PillowfightHAO stopped here Friday night; we watched "Marvin's Room" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark." The former was a first for both of us and, despite the aesthetic appeal of Leonardo DiCaprio, dull. I was amused, however, to note that once again Diane Keaton played a woman without a sex life ("Annie Hall," "The Good Mother," "Baby Boom"). HAO decided that had she grown up with "Raiders," it wouldn't've seemed quite so cheesy. After swimming from Sallah's friend's ship to the German submarine, how did Indy survive? I called him Indiana "Gills" Jones, but I don't think that answered HAO's questions. The origin of such lisa phrases as "Asps. Very dangerous. You go first" and "Ya eat 'em" she now understands, however.
Mission: Buy stuffSaturday morning we tried to watch "Roman Holiday," or did for about two minutes before realizing I'd plucked the tape from the DVS section. The service includes describing the Paramount summit. However, in this movie, it doesn't become the South American peak Indy readily plunders, so while the whole "Clouds circling a snow-covered peak" thing was hysterical, it wasn't funny enough to endure throughout a whole flick. With DVS, all the description impedes my primary role as Tom Servo. So after tackling the Nation's Acrostic (which HAO said was harder than Games'; I should hope so) and my Great Women Paper Dolls Coloring Book (which led me to wonder in which Ramona book did Our Heroine draw herself one) for a bit, out we went to spend money.
We dumped the recycling, where I didn't lose anything; returned the movies to Blockbuster (they credited me for "Roman Holiday"), where I did leave my ID; landed at Twist and Shout, at whose counter I realized I didn't have my wallet. It was only in the car though. I bought Dick's Picks Volume III for RDC and Shaking the Tree and Tigerlily for me. Also Des'ree's I Ain't Movin', purely on the strength of one song, "You Gotta Be," which I remember loving when I heard it in the months of its popularity two years ago, mostly on Ramona's radio at C&A. I have every song on Shaking the Tree except "Shaking the Tree" and "Zaar," but what I really want is "Don't Break this Rhythm." I've wanted Tigerlily since hearing "Carnival," also two years ago. I didn't get another three CDs that I could replace my dying cassettes with because I plan to join BMG. Yeah--for three years or more. Leaving Twist and Shout, I managed to remember all my paraphernalia, and so we persevered to Fahrenheit books.
Of all the used bookstores on that stretch of Broadway, Fahrenheit reminds me the most of Avenue Victor Hugo. Except that it has no cat. Also it's smaller. But books cover every inch and conversation about who knows what begs to be overheard from every corner. Today's finds were The Autobiography of Henry VIII, Borderliners, The Joy Luck Club, and The Secret History. The Autobiography starts out promisingly, with a large family tree. And I love Peter Høeg. I've only read Borderliners and Smilla's Sense of Snow, but The History of Danish Dreams awaits me as does another title Ulla's told me about. The Secret History I need to think about more. And The Joy Luck Club follows the reverse chronology of how I've read Amy Tan up to now.
HAO found a nicer edition of Steinbeck's Mallory and another self-help book for her collection, a 1930s Hollywood chapbook on maintaining one's figure by someone called Sylvia. We could tell this book is a winner: it recommends no exercise for those wanting to "reduce" because muscle adds so much bulk. Sigh.
In Colorado Seed and Pet, there was also no cat. The proprietor usually keeps a cat or two around, just to humiliate the species, I think. HAO and I met some charming lovebirds and sun conures, declined an offer to hold a spotted gecko, could not accept the offer to hold a pygmy hedgehog (what was the hedgehog's name in Olga da Polga, and why does the second e belong?) because they were extremely prickly. I know pet stores should sell only pet supplies and not live animals, but something has to happen right here because all the birds are so friendly. I don't know why the store sells small mammals. Maybe the way goats are sold as companions for horses. We bought Blakey his seed and vitamins and I, as usual, ignored the fact that the store sells a mixture of seeds it wouldn't feed its own birds ("If you bought your bird here, don't feed it this!").
And so we came tamely home, first stopping at Blockbuster to retrieve my id.
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