friday feast: the president’s stuck in the bathtub by susan katz and robert neubecker


Recently I’ve become quite the Presidential buff.

As much as I would love to impress you with an exhaustive list of critically acclaimed history books I’ve memorized while polishing the White House silver, I may as well confess my newfound obsession is all about discovering the “penchants and peccadilloes of the presidents.”

Feed me odd, quirky, funny, charming or cringe-worthy “factini” for breakfast and I’m a happy camper. (The term,”factini,” was cleverly coined by Mary Lee after posting her review at A Year of Reading.)

My appetite for fascinating factini knows no bounds. I grew up thinking our Presidents were boring white men in breeches who never smiled. Now, thanks to Susan Katz’s brand new poetry collection, I’ve discovered the naked truth: one of them (John Quincy Adams) didn’t wear breeches (or anything else) while swimming in the Potomac, several of them gave such long or confusing blabby speeches they probably didn’t have time to smile (Clinton, Harrison, Harding), and it couldn’t possibly have been the least bit boring to get stuck in a bathtub (Taft).

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