I was as the Port Townsend Writers Conference a couple of years ago, and because there wasn’t a hot tub, and because I was eating meals with people I didn’t know, I started asking asinine questions at dinner, making conversation, etc, and somehow the question, “Who’s the coolest person in the world?” came up, as it so frequently does. Being literary types, we kicked this around a little, established some parameters–Could it be anyone from all time? we wondered. Yes, we decided. What did we mean by cool? We weren’t going to answer that question. It was uncool even to ask it. And then we started throwing names around. Lou Reed came up. Dylan. Someone mentioned the Dalai Lama, but I said, while I thought he was great and everything, I wasn’t sure he was “cool,” necessarily, even if cool people tended to attach themselves to him.  The conversation continued the next night at dinner, with a slightly different configuration of people. Again, there was no hot tub. Stephen Malkmus  was mentioned. Dennis Cooper. De Niro. Someone wondered if Jesus was cool. I wondered about a new bracelet campaign: What Would Jesus Do, if He Were Cool? Denis Johnson was mentioned. So was Beckett. I realized we had no women on the cool list. I pointed this out and then asked if, all things being equal, men were cooler than women. It was a disastrous question, of course, and had the same effect farting at the table would have had. Look, I said, I’m not saying men are cooler than women, but when considering the coolest person in the world, we’re only naming men. Then somebody said, Patti Smith.

Right. Yes. Possibly the coolest person in the world.

Ms. Smith has a memoir out called Just Kids, reviewed in this week’s NYTBR. While the review isn’t very interesting, the book looks like it probably is. And coming from the coolest person in the world, I’m guessing it will probably be, well, cool.