~ stubble field in winter ~

Grandpa B's birthday today, if he was still with us.

Me — Stories of My Life was written by Katharine Hepburn. She wasn’t much of a writer; after reading the first few chapters I skimmed the book for names of interest and looked through the picture pages. The book went back to the library unfinished. But I did find this about Howard Hughes, who was once her lover:

“He was always a good friend. His doctor was my doctor too. He felt, as I do, that Howard’s deafness finally did him in. Howard had had a serious airplane accident, which caused him unbearable pain. For the pain he was given morphine — and Howard finally found this blank road more comfortable than the endless life struggle. One cannot blame him, but it was very sad. He was a remarkable man.”

While I’m giving reviews ...

movies

The Wedding Crashers - 4 out of 10. Owen Wilson was charming as usual, but it wasn’t enough to save this waste of time.

Cinderella Man- 8 out of 10. Russell Crowe made me fall for his character’s tender, decent maleness which is irresistably sexy. (If Crowe can be that sweet, I see why women are attracted.)

The plot, based on a true story, is predictable but the boxing matches had me up on my feet punching at the air and cheering on the humble New Jersey Irishman bound for pugilistic glory.

Paul (excuse my spelling if it’s wrong) Giamati, of Sideways fame, should get some kind of award for his part as the coach and manager.