State of my knee: I washed my hair at my parents' house tonight because they have a shower with grab bars and no tub rim to step over. I may have turned out to be contact-allergic to the neoprene in my compression brace. I sound to myself like Robert Ryan in Act of Violence (1948) as I walk around the house.
selkie provided a significant silver lining to yesterday in the form of a used copy of Bryher's The Days of Mars: A Memoir 1940–1946 (1981), which arrived in the evening's mail after a fraught set of conversations. The receipt came with an adorable note on the book's condition: "Very Good with light wear to covers and no marks to text. Unfortunate square cut out above publisher's slug on front cover to excise previous owner's embossed ownership stamp. (Scene of a double crime . . .)"
In memoriam Murray Melvin, I watched an interview recorded in 2016 for the Criterion Blu-Ray/DVD of A Taste of Honey (1961). I don't think I had ever seen him as himself before, a spellbinding raconteur with a priceless memory for the details of productions and roles and people. He got the part of Geof in a direct promotion from theater dogsbody and tea boy after disparaging the character at the end of the first readthrough: "I always say, I was the start of gay pride. I was Gay Pride of 1958. It's all down to me, honey. It was on my shoulders. And I'm very proud of it."
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In memoriam Murray Melvin, I watched an interview recorded in 2016 for the Criterion Blu-Ray/DVD of A Taste of Honey (1961). I don't think I had ever seen him as himself before, a spellbinding raconteur with a priceless memory for the details of productions and roles and people. He got the part of Geof in a direct promotion from theater dogsbody and tea boy after disparaging the character at the end of the first readthrough: "I always say, I was the start of gay pride. I was Gay Pride of 1958. It's all down to me, honey. It was on my shoulders. And I'm very proud of it."