Maudlin!

Barf barf barf barf barf.

Like, honestly. We all like Robert Frost and whatever, but tell me that this wasn't just an excuse to -- cleverly! -- sneak some of his lines into the reporting. The piece's tone is also one of unnecessary aggrandizement of the Yank (Bronx Bomber?) Poet. Everyone knows he was an awesome all-American who wrote really beautifully, capturing in meter the natural flow of speech.

But still. Exaggerating his value to make his house by extension somehow important is pretty dishonest and a cheap play at exigency. In real life, it hardly matters that some people had a party in Robert Frost's farm house, or that they ruined some of his stuff. He is dead. And his poetry, not his kitchenware, is what we really care about.

Imagined rejected things the author thought of while writing this article:

"The foundations of the house must have snarled and rattled. Later, the revelers stumbled out, out -- of the house."

"When they left the party I'm pretty sure they had miles to go before they slept. Miles to go before they slept."

"I wonder if it was a swinger party. Not of birches, mind you."

Everyone just needs to chill when these things happen, and please restrain themselves from writing "beautifully" about a worthless topic.