Surprised by Garlic and Smelling of Smoke

It's getting chilly out there. So that us girls in our cropped black pants are wearing boots instead of strappy sandals and looking like Captain Kirk instead of Doris Day. I'll sleep with the heat on tonight. And a wool blanket that's as old as I am. Yes, that's right -- it's ONE HUNDRED years old. Good guess.

Today was a bit on the dreary side. I worked and counseled and played my violin and changed my outfit a few times. And wondered what it's like to captain a dogsled. It looks like fun, but I don't think dogsledding is for me. My lips are prone to chapping.

AMC had some sort of George C. Scott-a-thon going on yesterday. I caught a bit of The Flim Flam Man. I recall my father telling me that he saw it and that it was one of the funniest movies he'd ever seen. See, that's my dad for you. Not The Mask. Not Kentucky Fried Movie. Not Doctor Doolittle 2. But The Flim Flam Man, starring George C. Scott, is one of the funniest movies he's seen. And I'd guess that Modern Times is on that list, too. Oh, sure. You might argue that it's not good taste. You might say it's just because he's an old dude who doesn't "get" the comedy of our time. But no one laughs harder at Seinfeld than my dad. Even though he sometimes calls it "Shine-feld." I say my dad's got fine taste. When I played Amélie for him, he laughed plenty. I think my mom laughed more, but that's because it was in French. Movies in English seem to put her to sleep. When I took her to see Titanic, she fell asleep before the film came out of sepiatone in the opening credits. Then, when I asked her how she liked it, she scowled and said, "It was so boring." She also hates Star Trek because the alien races are all grotesque and ugly to her. But both of my parents love Benny Hill. Although my mom thinks he's German. There's no logic to any of it, clearly.

I've got a lot to do tomorrow. I don't like the sound of that.