Where's Waldo?

So I'm finally fed up with heading each post with "well this guy just died and he did some neat things so I think it's a good idea you know about it". I thought that while I prepare for another obsession I'd deal with some folks who are already dead and spare everyone the grief.

So . . . . . lets spend a moment getting to know Alexander Humphreys Woollcott. Writer and critic for the New Yorker magazine and general sharp tonged wit who had a knack for for getting laughs and pissing people off. He was a member of the Algonquin Round Table, a group of New York writers who met to have lunch at the Algonquin Hotel. They just hung out and traded lines and story ideas. The result was a weird think tank for high functioning, slightly snooty artsy critics.

Born in 1887, Aleck, as he liked to be called, started life in a former commune. His first home was something called the North American Phalanx, a huge rambling 80+ room house that had been the centre of the Phalanx movement. It dissolved in the 1850's and his grandparents took over the home.

His family loved books and from an early age he knew writing was going to earn his living. Not having alot of money when he was in his youth was a problem, but with the help of the family doctor he was able to attend university and start his career as a critic.

By the 1920's he was drama critic for the New York times. His reviews seemed to be either gushing or crushing. Some theatres banned him outright from reviewing their productions.

He moved into radio in 1928 with ease and found a ready audience. Listeners perhaps, who were a little tired of reading his wordy articles. He hosted shows like The Early Bookworm and the Town Crier.

He is most remembered for his quotes "Seven suburbs in search of a city" in describing Los Angeles or "There is absolutely nothing wrong with Oscar Levant that a miracle can't fix." Or his famous review of a play that was simply one word "Ouch".

Dorothy Parker had a name for his apartment on east 52nd Street. She called it the Wits End.