Sundays with WRH
The final BBC/PBS Masterpiece Theater Jane Austen production airs tonight: Sense and Sensibility. It's a good one. Mama like. I'm a little apprehensive, I will admit, about getting hot and bothered in anticipation, though, because I can't imagine how it's going to top Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman...to whom we should all have itty bitty shrines in our coat closets, because he's so gooooood.
Still, it's better than this:
Which is what I have to read for a class I'm taking. I wish I could say that I flat out hate it, because I'd really like to because I'm, you know, a giant snob. But I can't. Tuesdays With Morrie has become a big fat cliché. In truth, it's worth a read. Fortunately, it will take you about thirty-eight seconds to process the entire book. I read half of it this afternoon at the car wash. And not while I was waiting to go in the car wash, I mean while I was sitting in the car fishing survivor Skittles out of the bottom of my purse and listening to those big rubbery brushes whoosh and thump the bejeezus out of my car.
Once you're finished reading it, of course, and you've pondered your own mortality, relationships, mental health, and feelings about the fact that you are squandering your life reading this not-a-blog, you can entertain yourself by re-writing the sub title. "An old man, a young man, and life's greatest lesson." "An aging detective, a sexy nun, and the night the lights went out in Georgia." "An incompetent city planner, a cheesesteak with, and a public display of affection that changed a nation."
Still, it's better than this:
Which is what I have to read for a class I'm taking. I wish I could say that I flat out hate it, because I'd really like to because I'm, you know, a giant snob. But I can't. Tuesdays With Morrie has become a big fat cliché. In truth, it's worth a read. Fortunately, it will take you about thirty-eight seconds to process the entire book. I read half of it this afternoon at the car wash. And not while I was waiting to go in the car wash, I mean while I was sitting in the car fishing survivor Skittles out of the bottom of my purse and listening to those big rubbery brushes whoosh and thump the bejeezus out of my car.
Once you're finished reading it, of course, and you've pondered your own mortality, relationships, mental health, and feelings about the fact that you are squandering your life reading this not-a-blog, you can entertain yourself by re-writing the sub title. "An old man, a young man, and life's greatest lesson." "An aging detective, a sexy nun, and the night the lights went out in Georgia." "An incompetent city planner, a cheesesteak with, and a public display of affection that changed a nation."
I've read Tuesdays.. and yes, it is a quick read which I don't necessarily like unless it's something I don't WANT to read. I like the whole process of having my nose stuck in a book for a few days.. rather than just an hour or a few.
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Dang it! MISSED Sense and Sensibility, due to the flu. I think it was some sort of passive aggressive thing on my part, due to the fact that I do not want to see anyone but the immortal Alan Rickman in that role.
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