When are the tents coming down?
The trouble is that I am dead flat exhausted and therefore nothing interesting is happening on this journal, because nothing interesting is happening in my brain. I am tired of work. I am finding the news difficult to deal with.
spatch came home from Davis Square with fancy ravioli from Dave's and a sherry mushroom sauce to cook them in. Valerie Taylor's The Girls in 3-B (1959) reminds me of a Dorothy Arzner movie except that in addition to the clear and critical examination of heteronormativity, the novel contains an explicitly lesbian couple who get a happy ending as a pleasant antidote to all the crushing boy-meets-girl maneuvering. It is not Tyrone Power's fault, but when I discover that he starred in a movie called Captain from Castile (1947), speaking as a person who has seen My Favorite Year (1982) more times than I can count, I'm afraid my first reaction is "Captain from crap!"

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It's a line that gets a lot of airplay in our house. That whole conversation is gold.
"Sy, that one, Defender of the Crown, is a classic!"
"Crap."
"And so is Captain from Tortuga!"
"Crap."
"And what about Swords of Glory?"
"Crap."
"Amarillo?"
"Crap."
"Sands of the Sudan?"
"Crap! Benjy, you want to see movies, get a job as an usher!"
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