Mystery solved!!

Since we are magazine whores and circulate (or at least pretend to) in that world, it goes without saying that both Kristen and I are HUGE fans of Susan Orlean (who, by the way, got her start here in Portland and will be back in town on April 24th as part of Portland's annual Wordstock Festival). In the same way we think we're great writers - that's why we're doing this blog, right? - we also like the idea of appreciating the fine journalism in The New Yorker (where, ahem, Susan Orlean is a staff writer).

BRIEF TANGENT: I actually don't know about Kristen, but I have a subscription to The New Yorker both because I like the idea of it and I actually do enjoy the articles - when I actually sit down and read them, that is. Most of the time, though, my weekly (who can keep up with a weekly mag, anyway) issues get pushed aside for my US Weekly (hmm, that's also weekly, and yet the pictures are so much easier to get through than pages of dense text). I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's true. So I have stacks of New Yorker's piling up next to my bed. At least I look smart.

Anyway, back to the point of this post. The New Yorker doesn't publish a masthead, never has and seemingly never will. Which, of course, makes us even more curious as to who the lucky ones are that get to say, "I work at The New Yorker." Our dear friend, Kerry, got to say that during the summer of our ASME internships together, and we all even had lunch in their offices (I was probably too hungover to really enjoy it at the time), but the mystery of the complete masthead still remained unsolved. Until now. It seems we're not the only ones curious about such things, and the New York Observer put someone on the job, following leads and piecing together clues to form the closest thing to a masthead this venerable publication has ever seen. To me, it's akin to the Holy Grail. And now I'm sharing it with all of you (how many people know about this so far - two?). The New Yorker masthead, or as close as we're gonna get. Enjoy!