"There is No Such Thing in Anyone's Life as an Unimportant Day"

A member of The Algonquin Round Table, Aleck Woollcott, hailed from Phalanx, New Jersey. From childhood he was an avid reader, with a particular love of Charles Dickens. After working his way through Hamilton College in update New York, Woollcott crashed around through a few different jobs, but settled in as one of the New Yorker’s most acclaimed theater critics. At one point he was even banned from reviewing certain Broadway shows. As a result he sued the Shubert theater organization for violation of the New York Civil Rights Act, but lost in the state's highest court in 1916 on the grounds that only discrimination on the basis of race, creed or color was unlawful.

His lawsuit was a perfect example of the moxie of Aleck Woollcott-an owlish character whose caustic wit either joyously attracted or vehemently repelled the artistic communities of 1920s Manhattan. His judgments were frequently eccentric. Dorothy Parker once said: "I remember hearing Woollcott say reading Proust is like lying in someone else's dirty bath water. And then he'd go into ecstasy about something called, 'Valiant Is the Word for Carrie', and I knew I had enough of the Round Table."

I’m with Dorothy on that one.

He was known to greet friends with, "Hello, Repulsive." Famously, he published the shortest theatrical review in history by submitting to his editor simply: "Ouch."

After being kicked out of the apartment he shared with The New Yorker founders Harold Ross and his wife Jane Grant, Woollcott moved to an apartment at the far end of East 52nd Street. The members of the Algonquin Round Table had a debate as to what to call his new home. Franklin P. Adams suggested that he name it after the Indian word "Ocowoica", meaning "The-Little-Apartment-On-The-East-River-That-It-Is-Difficult-To-Find-A-Taxicab-Near". But Dorothy Parker came up with the definitive name: Wit's End.

He was one of the most-quoted men of his generation. Among Woollcott's classics is his description of the Los Angeles area as "Seven suburbs in search of a city" — a quip often attributed to his friend Dorothy Parker. Describing The New Yorker editor Harold Ross, he said: "He looks like a dishonest Abe Lincoln."

You either loved him, or you hated him. As I didn’t have the chance to meet him personally (he collapsed of a heart attack during a panel discussion of the war in Europe on CBS radio and passed away a few hours later at the age of 56) I think he’s absolutely caustically magnificent.

A character among characters, it is said that he was the inspiration for the character of Sheridan Whiteside in George S. Kauffman’s “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner”, that the character of Nero Wolfe was modeled upon him (though the author denies it) and that the Brandy Alexander was delicious alcoholic concoction named after him (supposedly it was created at the occasion of the wedding between Princess Mary and Lord Lascelles in London in 1922).

Here’s the recipe. Drink up!

Ingredients for the Brandy Alexander:
1 1/2 oz Brandy
1 oz Dark Creme de Cacao
1 oz Half-and-half or Heavy cream
1/4 tsp grated Nutmeg

In a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, combine the brandy, creme de cacao, and half-and-half. Shake well. Strain into a cocktail glass and garnish with the nutmeg.

If you’ve actually taken a minute to go mix up one of these tasty little ditties, then welcome back. I’ll end this by saying that he’d have gotten a kick (though an outraged one) out of his own final ending. Woollcott was buried in Clinton, New York, at his alma mater, Hamilton College, but not without some confusion. By mistake, his ashes were sent to Colgate University in Hamilton, New York. When the error was corrected and the ashes were forwarded to Hamilton College, they arrived with 67¢ postage due.

God bless ya Aleck. Here’s to you.