www.andover.edu/intouch
Jed Donahue ’95 married Lisa Chapman in Dallas last May, with several PA alumni in attendance. From left are Brigid Donahue ’96, Fiorella Valdesolo ’96, Jake Levin ’95, Chuck Arensberg ’95, the bride and groom, Scott Trull ’95, Jay Mok ’95, and Justin Kim ’95.
Anyway, we’re going to close this edition of the notes with a truly remarkable first—the first-ever submission from Jed Donahue. Yes, after 19 years, he’s surfaced to tell us what he’s been up to. Did he talk about his career? No. His travels? Not a one. Instead, he broke two decades of silence to tell us about his wedding...and his excitement about our reunion. Really doesn’t get much better than that— I mean, talk about devotion, no? Jed was married in Dallas on May 24 to a glorious Texan named Lisa Chapman, is now living in Reading, Mass., and (not sure how you got roped into this, Lisa, but we love you already) says they’re looking forward to hosting friends for next year’s reunion. This, clearly, is Jed alerting us to the fact that he wants all of us to start pestering him for invitations. Clearly. Good of you, Jed—and much appreciated. And there you have it. Please take a moment to get in touch for the next go-round. As Jed and Mike reminded us, our reunion is rapidly approaching—and it would be great to hear from even more of you as we get closer to heading back to the bell tower. And remember: When it comes to updates, anytime is fine—you don’t have to wait for Lon’s witty and colorful reminder e-mails. Just drop us a line whenever the inspiration strikes! Onward and upward, friends. Hope to hear from you soon.
1996 John Swansburg 396 15th St. Brooklyn NY 11215 john.swansburg@aya.yale.edu
In 2012, Adam Gopnik posited what he called “the Golden 40-Year Rule.” The New Yorker writer was attempting to identify a pattern in American
culture’s persistent nostalgia streak: Why do certain historical moments fascinate us at certain times? Gopnik’s rule held that “the prime site of nostalgia is always whatever happened, or is thought to have happened, in the decade between 40 and 50 years past.” The 1960s, he observed, were obsessed with the 1920s (see, for example, the Beatles’ fondness for period-style ditties like “When I’m 64”). The 1970s, in turn, were fascinated by the 1930s (see, for example, The Sting and Paper Moon). As to why the magic number is 40, Gopnik theorized that though culture tends to be produced by young people, the cultural gatekeepers—the A&R executives and producers and editors who green-light records, movies, and books—tend to be in their 40s. The propensity to look back four decades is their hang-up. Wrote Gopnik: “Forty years past is the potently fascinating time just as we arrived, when our parents were youthful and in love, the Edenic period preceding the fallen state recorded in our actual memories.” Gopnik allowed that there are exceptions to his rule. The dominant 40-year cycle contains within it a shorter, 20-year cycle, wherein the same 40-something arbiters pine for the glories of their own youth. Recently, I’ve noticed a particularly pronounced 20-year cycle at play. The culture feels positively awash in nostalgia for the earlyto mid-1990s—that is, for the period when we roamed the lawns of Phillips Academy. Even if you’re not the type to look back wistfully on your halcyon high school days, you might this summer have found yourself transported to a more acidwashed era. Consider: The video for Iggy Azalea’s “Fancy,” indisputably the song of the season, was a carefully choreographed pastiche of 1995’s Clueless. The upstart Hub network aired reruns, each weeknight, of Blossom (an underappreciated coming-of-age serial, in my opinionation, with better writing, more experimentation, and less treacle than The Wonder Years). Nas’s 1994 masterwork, Illmatic, was
the subject of a hagiographic documentary shown at the Tribeca Film Festival. Nike brought back the Air Huarache, the sneaker made famous by Michigan’s (vacated) Final Four runs in the early ’90s. David Lynch revealed never-before-seen footage from Fire Walk with Me, which sadly shed little light on the fate of Dale Cooper. Lifetime aired a madefor-TV movie about Saved by the Bell, which sadly shed ample light on the fate of Dustin Diamond. Bill and Hillary Clinton traveled to Iowa for Tom Harkin’s steak fry. Donna Tartt won a Pulitzer. See what I mean? Everywhere you looked, the first half of the ’90s was there. The takeaway: We’re getting old. But also: If Gopnik’s rule holds, our moment of cultural hegemony is nigh. We should start thinking about how we’ll wield our power. Who will we cast in our remake of Three Days of the Condor, which our parents probably saw on a date? I nominate Matt Damon and Charlotte Newhouse, whose recent Comedy Central Web series, costarring 22 Jump Street show-stealer Jillian Bell, is a must-see. It’s called Idiotsitter—find it. Sarah Pakstis writes with word of her impending marriage to Bryan Murphy ’97. The couple is getting married in Cambridge, Mass., where they live. Sarah notes that one benefit of marrying within the Andover family is that Bryan doesn’t misconstrue mentions of her upper year in high school as semesters lost to heavy amphetamine use. Julia Lloyd Johannsen checks in with a great Andover-related item: “This summer I took over as advisory board chair at PA’s outreach program, the Institute for Recruitment of Teachers. I’ve been on the IRT board for five years and have loved working with its founder, Kelly Wise, and the rest of the board, which consists primarily of PA grads. Although I never took Novel and Drama, I can attest to the fact that Kelly is as much a force of nature as he always was.” (For those of us who did take English 513, that’s at once welcome and Andover | Winter 2015
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