Kay and Skip and I just returned from seeing, The Young Victoria. I can't find the underline so I can't underline the movie title. We had to choose a movie that all three of us could agree upon. It was pleasant. Great dresses. A lovely love story. Always restorative.
I would like to see The Last Station, Helen Mirren and Christopher Plummer, about the last years of Tolstoy's life, Crazy Heart with Jeff Bridges, plays a down and out musician. I want to hear T-Bone's music. I'd like to see It's Complicated and Up in the Air, A Serious Man, An Education, The Cohen brother's movie whatever the name is of it, Sherlock Holmes, then, maybe, Avatar. Alice in Wonderland with Johnny Depp might be O.K. as long as it isn't as idiotic as the Pirates of The Carribean movies.
Of course I don't need to see any of them. I've missed so many others I wanted to see. I'm told Burn After Reading is hysterical and I should see The Princess Bride, I think. I never saw the movie with Laundromat in the title years ago. I can't bring myself to go rent a movie/DVD, I'd rather read a book than veg out in front of a TV screen. The movies are always better on the Big Screen. Don't you think? As long as you avoid the terrible food in the lobby. Why can't a movie theater sell good food instead of the foul-smelling pop corn and sodas that are jumbo-sized? Why do movie goers not pick up after themselves?
Why do the dug-outs of baseball teams look like dumps after a game. Why don't the baseball players pick up after themselves and set a good example for the kids of the world. Is it because they are men? All men are not slobs. Why don't the ball players pick up after themselves or are baseball players taught to be litterbugs/slobs as part of the indoctrination to playing ball? What is with that?
When I was a student nurse, back in the early 60's, we, student nurses, got to attend Celtics games for free if we collected money for the Cancer Association or the Heart Association or some Association between quarters or at half-time or whatever it was. If I remember correctly we got to sit right down on the floor, great seats, also. It was a good deal. Of course we had to wear our student nurse outfit which wasn't exactly attractive, unless you liked white starched skirts and bibs and collars and cuffs, white nylons and white shoes and, thank goodness, a fairly comfortable blue cotton dress with white stripes under all the starched over-skirts and bibs, etc. I don't remember the basketball players throwing stuff all over the basketball floor.
Do football players throw all their trash all over the football field? Or soccer players? Golfers don't throw their trash on the course, do they? So, why do baseball players throw all their trash on the floor of the dugout? Seems odd to me.
My AOL account is faulty and now my gmail has some conductivity problem. Who knows what's going on with the e-mail? Could it be the dial-up? This blog could be my only source of keeping in contact with friends. Scary. Maybe I'll go back to snail mail. Certainly will cause me to be less wordy.
Last practice tomorrow a.m. before the Tournament starts on Thursday. Now the chance of rain has increased to 50% for Thursday, Friday, I think. We'll see what happens. The courts are playable an hour or so after it rains, so maybe we'll get all the games in before Saturday afternoon.
Did I mention Dr. Tucker, the professor emeritus from Long Island University who reviewed the book, Netherland, mumbled a great deal. He spoke without really opening his mouth and he didn't speak into the microphone until I raised my hand to tell him we couldn't hear him. Then somebody else asked him to move the mike. He did, but then had the habit of turning his head away from the mike while speaking. It was very difficult to hear him read his analysis of the novel. If I had known it was a work of fiction I might not have made the trek into the Library in downtown Sarasota to listen to him. Kay and Skip enjoyed it, so that was good.
There were some accounts of the people who lived in the Chelsea Hotel, Leonard Cohen was not mentioned. I did find out the name of a book I had heard of, but had forgotten about that I would like to read. Legends of the Chelsea Hotel written by the fellow who managed the place for 50 years before he was pushed out so the new owner could gentrify the place. What a travesty! Ethan Hawke may be the only person of any note living there currently, if Dr. Tucker is current.
The novel is set in 2001 after 911, hardly the height of Bohemia at the Chelsea. Back in the days of Burroughs and Arthur Miller, before and after Marilyn Monroe, Sid and Nancy Vicious, Dylan Thomas, Bob Dylan, Kerouac, Mark Twain, O'Henry avoiding the law, etc. Bet the Legends book is what I'd like to read. I do have a great book of photographs taken of residents of the Chelsea, but stories of the place would be great also.
Another watercolor class today, my second. A very talented woman who teaches watercolor, does portraits, sells her watercolors, taught the class today. She was a court artist at a Mafia trial in Boston among other things. She was very helpful. I got to play around, use bright colors, do an abstract watercolor based on the picture everyone else was trying to replicate. There is a lot to learn about mixing colors. Patience is needed to allow paint to dry or not. It is fun, but my finished effort isn't exactly pleasing to me and I wonder if anyone would find it pleasing. It doesn't seem balanced. Also too busy. I tried to use up all the paint she had squirted into little blobs onto my paint set. The colors and shapes aren't what I wanted, but this first effort does make me want to explore with the paint to see if I could slap some bright colors on the page that are pleasing to me. Katherine was very encouraging. That's always good.
Gotta go. FAN
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