Shouts & Murmurs: Udder Madness
One thing I’ve particularly relished is when the Pudnicks invite guests to stay over on weekends. What a joy for an intellectually underrated creature like myself to be in proximity to New York’s fabulous glitterati: to eavesdrop on actors, journalists, painters, and musicians, all exchanging ideas and witty anecdotes that may be a bit swift for the poultry, but nobody appreciates a good Anna Wintour story or a freshly minted Steve Sondheim song more than I do, especially when Steve’s playing it.
