Going on near 60 years now.

Livin the lyric

And I’m sitting here, once again, drifting down avenues of thought and losing the thread of the story, thinking about Gibson’s lived experiences and wondering about the patina impressed upon lives and how it shapes our own stories.

I love what his writing does to me even after all these years

Talk about being grandfathered in…

The play of emotions on Ilsa’s face in that scene is amazing. The fear, to admiration, to love gives so much depth to her character and the conflict she experiences throughout the whole movie.

I thought of a friend who passed on a few years ago this morning and it made me smile. Then I remembered he was gone and it made me sad, but then I remembered how many times he made so many people happy and it made me smile again.

I wasn’t really ready for that rapid sequence. 50-year old feelings

These time zones are getting really crazy.

It got up around 60° today. I’m betting our fruit trees will start blooming before the frost ends.

When I hear those people I just hear Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich Malkovich

I had a pillar of hard drive magnets stacked on a cubical partition corner that went from the floor to the top of the wall. Every time my manager came in he kept one hand on his wallet to remind him not to get too near.

Let the right deer write!

No, wait, that could be taken wrong.

The the correct deer write!

No.

The appropriate deer?

Apt?

Never mind, I’ll work on it tomorrow when I’m less stuck.

Sunday Netflix recommended “Charlie Verrick” to me. A 1973 Walter Matthau movie. I was glad I watched it, but I’d have better spent the time watching Hopscotch, a better reimagining of basically the same Matthau story.