Last night I watched two movies: first, "Everyday Lives" (Robert Altman), which I'd never made it through before but really enjoyed. Kathleen even turned the light off to desert her latest novel and watch the Spanish captions because she liked it so much.
Unfortunately I had a depressive dream later, haunted by that horrible red-headed singer who featured so prominently in Altman's movie, though she would have been equally at home with David Lynch. Perhaps she reminded me of my first wife, who knows? But depressive dreams are no fun and are always a warning of the storm to come, and it scares me because my meds are already pretty much maximized.
Anyway, the horrible husky-voiced cigarette-smoking narcissist supposed jazz singer is all I remember now from the depressive dream. When it woke me in the night I took half a Zyprexa and watched TV until I fell asleep, and Lo and behold!-- I watched another movie with Roy Scheider and Olympia Dukakis I had never seen, one that reminded me very much of "Mosquito Coast," a movie that came highly recommended from my sibs (long ago) in view of the family illness.
In the movie a long absent father returns and turns his wife and family of adult children into a survivalist cult until they see through him. Interesting if not outstanding, only because it's another study in a crazy but well-meaning father.
We're getting close to the point of simply bailing here and giving a friend power of attorney to recoup our stuff, it's just the dog that's the sticking point, don't want to leave without him... may have to... and I don't want to return... may have to... can't hold out much longer.
Kathleen and I had margaritas and ceviche and shrimp cocktails for lunch at one of our favorite restaurants here, curiously named "El Viking." Must be for the seafood, though there are plenty of flies, as well as two hairless dogs who live on the roof, the very kind the Aztecs used to eat. Why we order seafood there.
All the retirees here are simply extreme. Beware of people who can do what they want, like the idle rich. They may try to make CDs or bar-hop only to find you and bore you, or focus on conspiracy theories, or make everyone call them "Colonel," or claim to be ex-wives of Greek shipping magnates, to name but a few types.
All for today (in a light vein, I hope).
And don't forget your flu shots!
C. E. Chaffin