Walked three miles today, intending to climb the Monument ten times, but it was closed, because the electricity was out. Random. I'm supposed to be at the Brattle right now but I'm not, for a double bill of Pulp Fiction and Murder, My Sweet. I've been pretty useless today. I did come up with a new idea for an op-ed, and I will compose that in the morning. I screened Delmer Daves' 1956 Western, Jubal. Beautifully shot. Ernest Borgnine is really good in it, also Charles Bronson. He was a better actor than you think when you catch him in film and TV around this time. Glenn Ford as Jubal Troop was less good. Best was Rod Steiger as Pinky Pinkum, the villain of the piece. He did a lot of interesting things with his voice. Great voice--has this unique timbre--for this role. Actors act through a lot of different ways; in this picture, he mostly acts through his voice, and that works. Biggest problem with the film is the ending is quite rushed--one of those, "Whelp, time to wrap this up double-quick and send everyone home, it's been two hours" jobs.
I suppose the news of the day, such as it is, is today is 1095 days since I had a drink of alcohol. That's 365 x 3, aka, three years. I guess that's pretty good. Made my face rectangular.
Ever notice that the people who are talking on the phone the loudest, in the most conspicuous places, are the most boring, brainless people? Ever notice that the people who play their music the loudest in their cars such that the street shakes, are listening to the worst music? It's never Mozart's Requiem or the Who's Live at Leeds, is it?