The first time Sally Field played opposite Tom Hanks, she played his girlfriend (“Punchline”). Six years later, in “Forrest Gump,” she played his mother.
Life isn’t fair, but Hollywood really isn’t fair.
Of course, Mrs. Robinson was one of the sexiest fortysomething babes to ever be captured on film. Probably because she was only 36.
Want to read a good revisionist take on “The Graduate”? Check out Roger Ebert’s.
Why am I writing short paragraphs, like Lance?
One of those things.
On the organizational continuum of 1 to 10, I’d put myself at about a 5.7 — I make lists, but I don’t usually get through all of them. Today the list was:
Finish painting kitchen.
Clean kitchen from top to bottom.
Go grocery shopping.
Buy a lovely bouquet of flowers for the kitchen bay window, to celebrate the new look.
Make ice cream.
Fix a nice dinner.
What I accomplished on the list: Nothing. But it was still a good day.
I started with good intentions (painting), and took a break to check my e-mail. Good thing I did, and good thing the person I was having lunch with today sent a “see you there” e-mail that I received just in time to take a speed shower, scrub the Lavender Ice from my cuticles and sprint to Ann Arbor to have a two-hour business lunch that I would have otherwise totally forgotten. I would have remembered it, had my calendar not been buried under a pile of crap in the family room, due to the kitchen-painting project.
Ah, so what? Everything gets done eventually.
Tomorrow: Pictures. (I hope.)
Ann Arbor was lovely. No parking, but lovely. That is my town, I must say, the only place I’ve ever lived where I felt more or less at home. I pick up Kate at school this year among a herd of blondes wearing diamond rings of one carat or more. I picked up Kate at school in Ann Arbor among graying late-starters like me, lesbians and even the occasional blonde, who might be picking up her little towheaded clone but also a Chinese, Guatemalan or other differently colored child. Things about Ann Arbor drove me nuts, but mostly I loved it, five-month winter and all.
I don’t think I’d love it so much if Alan were commuting 90 minutes a day, though. Best to leave it a rosy memory I can visit inside of an hour.
Tomorrow’s ice cream flavor: Banana with chocolate chunks. Chunky Monkey, without the walnuts. I’ll let you know how it turns out.