I arrived in Boston this evening for a conference on public intellectuals. As befitting intellectuals about public intellectuals, we have been put up in a nice hotel right next to Fenway. When I came back from dinner, the turn-down service not only had left cookies on my pillow and started soft music playing, but also laid out a little linen thing, about 2 feet by 2 1/2 feet, by the side of my bed.
Rather than pretend, I will just cop to not having enough cultural capital to know what this towel is for. Anyone?