Brady's Bunch

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My cousin Dudloff Doyle was busy last week e-mailing the family (et alia) about "don't spend a dime day" to be marked on Thursday, in mute protest of the Bush inaugural. Since even blue state voters can be Americans, believe in God, go to war, and pay taxes, I wish the president well and don't begrudge his celebrations. What does appall me is his smug, Panglossian certainty that he is always right about everything. When the last four years suggest he has been so often wrong.

Domestic tsarina Chris Madden's husband and top exec, Kevin Madden, and their new partner, Jack Kliger of Hachette Filipacchi, have a relationship that goes back... To when Jack sold advertising for the Village Voice and Kevin for New York magazine, when both were owned in turn by Clay Felker and pals, and then Rupert Murdoch, and later when both Jack and Kevin labored as publishers at Conde Nast.

Modern Bride says prenups are growing in popularity even among young, less affluent couples. Tell me it isn't so.

On a more cheering note, Fit Pregnancy of February/March assures expectant parents, "Yes, yes, yes! You can have fun in bed during pregnancy."

Kristina M. Johnson tells me Rodale's Women's Health (it debuted in October) aced early tests and will be hitting newsstands five times this year with a 425,000 rate base.

Paige Rense looks at some triumphant home "makeovers" in the February, "before & after" issue of Architectural Digest.

Ad sales vet Jay Burzon (Forbes, Cosmo, Elle, Spin) established "Coachsultancy," a sales coaching company for consumer mags. Jay lurks in Narragansett, R.I.

Fine Homebuilding (Taunton Press) is now online. Their aim for do it yourselfers and pros both is to answer the cry, "How do I get myself out of this one?"

Grand news for fans of radio talker Jean Shepherd. Eugene B. Bermann's bio, "Excelsior, You Fathead!" comes out next month from Theatre & Cinema Books. For most of my misspent youth Shep was on WOR nights with his manic monologues, wrote books, short stories, did albums and sold out Carnegie Hall. Time and The New York Times both considered him a genius, the Thurber or Mark Twain of his day (1921-'99). He grew up in Indiana, had no kids (or several, but lied), also played tunes by beating on his head with knuckles.

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