Roger Ebert was my favorite movie critic. I always (most of the time) trusted his taste. I loved reading his reviews because he could have an acid pen. This is one of my favorite reviews he wrote. It's for The Village, which was absolutely as dumb as he says.
"To call it an anticlimax would be an insult not only to climaxes but to prefixes. It's a crummy secret, about one step up the ladder of narrative originality from It Was All a Dream. It's so witless, in fact, that when we do discover the secret, we want to rewind the film so we don't know the secret anymore. And then keep on rewinding, and rewinding, until we're back at the beginning, and can get up from our seats and walk backward out of the theater and go down the up escalator and watch the money spring from the cash register into our pockets."If I had been working, I might have taken a grief day off for Roger. I've already let everyone know that I'll be taking a week off when Bob Dylan passes. I plan to play every CD of his that I own, starting with the earlier ones and ending with the latest.
I've been exchanging cards and pictures and occasionally a package with my two great-nieces in Ohio. They know Gus from his pictures. My brother was down visiting last week and Darby, the younger one, said she saw Gus's doppelganger as they were driving...a buff labradoodle. I wonder if that was on her vocabulary list at school.
I had a great week with more energy than I have had in quite a while. I'm sure I bragged about my achievements here so I won't repeat it. I had my tenth taxol treatment yesterday morning but I slept well last night. Every week is a little different but I'm thankful for the good ones.
I have only two treatments left. I feel a sense of relief in one way to be almost done but there is also some fear and some sadness. I feel very cared for when I'm there. I know all the nurses by now and I am attached to them. I'm nervous about leaving my "treatments" behind. I'll see my oncologist every three months for the next two years so that should help with my withdrawal.
Next week, I meet with the radiologist and I think I get a tattoo. Not the way I wanted to get my first tattoo but what the hell.
We have a cardinal pair in the feeder again. We get the whole family in the winter and just mom and dad most of the summer. Sometimes we get a glimpse of the young ones but not often. The grackles and starlings and red-winged blackbirds are back, too. The juvenile delinquents of the bird world. Grackles have beady eyes, starlings poop like geese, and red-winged blackbirds have a screech like an old cell phone. But we take the good with the bad when it comes to birds.
I don't plan to do much today. Ella and Alex are coming over this evening to make spaghetti monsters with PopPop again. I'll take a bath, a nap, and a walk...probably in just that order.