The Reader

The Girl begins her "one-or-two-weeks-a-month in-Canada" gig next week, so we thought we'd head up the hill to the cabin for a long weekend where instead of 102 it was 67. It was a perfect day at 6400 ft. We've got our routine down so that it takes us right at a half hour to move out of the truck and into the cabin. Moving the other way takes a bit longer, laundry, dishes, that sort of thing.

We lounged around, my putting some notes and emails together for the *^%#@ attorney and her out on the deck, reading, she won't say what "Oh, just some junk novel".

After meatloaf (the meal, not the artist) we watched The Reader. Loathe as I am to accept a contrived coincidence/hidden disability as a plot device, this is an excellent movie. The direction and screenplay are very good, and the cast has not one mis-step. Ms Winslet has not been on my best actress list, despite her apparent contract stipulation that she gets to take her clothes off in every film she's in, but she has the walk, the gestures, the furtive glances of her character down perfect.

Having said that, and I know it's "art" or "literature", but I detest any attempt, regardless of how roundabout, to elicit sympathy for anything or anyone involved with the nazi era in Germany.

Kitchen's Done

Only time will tell if that's really true. Gas oven explosions have decreased by several megatons, but discomfiting noises still issue therefrom.

Pizza Pooh & Magpie

is how Paul McCartney allegedly referred to Peter, Paul and Mary, now Peter, Paul and Memories.

When I was 14, back when dirt was new and saber toothed tigers ruled the earth, John S, Sherrie C and I formed a "tribute group" called Lyle, John & Sherrie for a school talent show. We enlisted my best friend at the time, Dennis, who was pretty proficient on the acoustic guitar, and we learned a ton of PP&M songs.

Our voices blended pretty well for the callow yoots we were, and our audition for the talent show was well received. In fact, we were the only 'act' that got to play twice in the show. When I complained to Mrs Bauer that we were put last in the order, she patiently explained that "We always save the best for last." That was a nice moment.

Our first offering was 500 Miles, and we closed the show with "The Cruel War" which brought down the house. (This was fairly early in America's troops' involvement in Viet Nam.) We weren't prepared for that reception and stood there, gobsmacked, but were hugely gratified.

Sherrie's brother was killed three years later in that goddam war.

This morning The Girl and I were both up shortly after 3 following another night's unsuccessful attempt to reset our internal clocks after our ten days in Greece. She told me of Mary Travers' passing and I downloaded 24 PP&M songs, played them all and am still reeling under the effects of a nostalgia deluge.

Now listen up.

The absolute minimum you must have in your library is: I Dig Rock And Roll Music; Early Morning Rain; 500 Miles; Puff, the Magic Dragon (I am NOT kidding); their definitive Where Have All The Flowers Gone; Don't Think Twice, It's Alright; and most importantly The Great Mandela, which of course will always have a special resonance for me.

If I find out you don't have these on your device, and in regular rotation, it will not go well for you when I'm in charge.