It's hard to have patience when you're waiting on luck

[sovay]

In fact, this weekend starting tonight marks the first Readercon I have missed since first attending the convention in 2004. I am not so thrilled about this.

I am not so thrilled, either, about being on the third week of disruptively painful and debilitating symptoms of unknown etiology and limited options for care. On Monday I am finally seeing one of my own doctors. In the meantime, my July has disappeared.

Lately I have been watching a miscellany of the original Perry Mason (1957–66) and enjoying its plethora of actors of the week—I can't watch too much of it in a row without feeling that my brain is leaking out my ears, but I am honestly delighted that I can get Audrey Totter, Jeff Corey, Elisha Cook Jr., Bruce Bennett, and Ted de Corsia all together in an episode of anything.

Dr. Autolycus remains on my lap at all possible moments.

Comments

[sovay]

At least the feline doctors are good even if the human ones aren't.

I have been dealing with a lot of covering teams rather than my own doctors, but the constancy and attentiveness of cats is not to be debated.

I thought of you the other day because at the instigation of a friend, I saw an old movie, Giant, with Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, and James Dean. Have you seen it?

No! What did you think of it?

[asakiyume]

It was *very* interesting--maybe more so (or at least as much) as a document of its time than for its own self, but its own self was interesting too. There was the very huge disconnect of the heroine being committed to opposing the anti-Mexican prejudice of her husband (and every other Anglo in Texas) while thinking nothing of the fact that black servants wait on her own family hand and foot in Maryland.

It's very interesting to see the Texas landscape change from the mid 1920s (when the film begins) to pretty much the present day of the film's production (mid 1950s). The house Rock Hudson's family lives in is a huge monolith on a vast plain, very dark on the inside, early on, and by the end of the movie everything is looking more like the sets of Dallas. (Speaking of, James Dean plays a ne'er do well who inherits some land and ends up striking oil. His name is Jett Rink, and at one point he's opening up a hotel with his initials on it, JR, and I thought, Huh! So Dallas was nodding at this film then.)

It was impressive how they aged everyone up as the film progressed. They gave James Dean a receding hairline! And people had bags under their eyes. But then you look at Liz Taylor's ankles or anyone's hands, and they're as young as ever.

...And I see that with the exception of the racism theme, I've just fixated on minor details. Ah well! It's worth a watch sometime. It's very long, though.

[sovay]

It was impressive how they aged everyone up as the film progressed. They gave James Dean a receding hairline! And people had bags under their eyes. But then you look at Liz Taylor's ankles or anyone's hands, and they're as young as ever.

I love this observation. It's always interesting to me to see how actors aged differently from their makeup—or the people they never grew up into.

...And I see that with the exception of the racism theme, I've just fixated on minor details.

Doesn't mean the details weren't worth noting. I'll keep an eye out for the film if it ever comes around.