In the morning, ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch and I were awoken by the mellifluous window-rattling of the construction which has now begun on our street, ominously chalking the asphalt like a crime scene and cordoning off all parking on our side through the rest of the month. In the afternoon, we joined in the Seder at my parents' house with my niece and brother—rushthatspeaks was down for the count with a bug—and opened the door for the stranger, the most important thing. And in the evening, we met skygiants and genarti at the Somerville Theatre for Johnny Eager (1942) on 35 mm, my first movie in theaters in four years. Rob in his capacity as bartender favored me with a G&T, although we did not try to match shots with Van Heflin because that way lies blackout by the fourth reel. I love this movie so much, chiefly because he steals it as absently as someone else's unfinished drink; I love knowing that at least as of 1947 in The Saturday Evening Post, Jeff Hartnett was his favorite role. "I was glad that Jeff, being indifferent to his appearance, had few costume changes, for, being a bad dresser myself, I hate to fuss around with decisions about what suit, shirt and tie to wear . . . A crowning pleasure was the enthusiastic audience letters showing that Jeff had come close to the people, been understood, and that they identified me with him." Eight decades on and counting. Chag sameach!
spatch and I were awoken by the mellifluous window-rattling of the construction which has now begun on our street, ominously chalking the asphalt like a crime scene and cordoning off all parking on our side through the rest of the month. In the afternoon, we joined in the Seder at my parents' house with my niece and brother—rushthatspeaks was down for the count with a bug—and opened the door for the stranger, the most important thing. And in the evening, we met skygiants and genarti at the Somerville Theatre for Johnny Eager (1942) on 35 mm, my first movie in theaters in four years. Rob in his capacity as bartender favored me with a G&T, although we did not try to match shots with Van Heflin because that way lies blackout by the fourth reel. I love this movie so much, chiefly because he steals it as absently as someone else's unfinished drink; I love knowing that at least as of 1947 in The Saturday Evening Post, Jeff Hartnett was his favorite role. "I was glad that Jeff, being indifferent to his appearance, had few costume changes, for, being a bad dresser myself, I hate to fuss around with decisions about what suit, shirt and tie to wear . . . A crowning pleasure was the enthusiastic audience letters showing that Jeff had come close to the people, been understood, and that they identified me with him." Eight decades on and counting. Chag sameach!
