Wanda

Somehow I managed not to see A Fish Called Wanda when it came out in 1988, so when we watched our recording today, it was my first introduction to its wacky British humor.

The movie was definitely full of zany characters and wildly entertaining, even though none of the characters was at all endearing. Kevin Kline won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for his role as Otto--the guy you love to hate even while you're laughing at his antics. Despite the guns and knives and general gore and violence, no one is realistically hurt--except for the poor fish that Otto swallows (and I'm sure no dogs were actually harmed in the production). We were hardly tempted to quibble at the giant plot holes. Imdb describes it as a heist film, but the heist itself is only a bare preliminary to the double and triple cross action.

This morning as usual we joined our friends for breakfast at Mi Challitas. We talked about our plans for the End of the World Party at Jean's and for Christmas at Pat and Bob's. Judy told us that John and Sandy had left on their trip south, so they'll be here soon and join us for the parties. We'll be glad to see them again.

We biked around Tanglewood this morning, trying to keep ahead of the mosquitoes. Tonight we walked on the treadmills, also trying to evade the stinging critters, but we both got bites just in walking the couple of hundred feet to the exercise room and back. Have I mentioned that we hate mosquitoes? We'll be glad when at least some of them clear out!

Sadly, I'm missing my brother Joe. Tomorrow would have been his 65th birthday, and Friday will be the seventh anniversary of his death. He has left a big hole in our family, and the holidays always find me more aware of mourning for him and for my mom and my brother Terry--and all of the people I've loved and lost over the years. I try to embrace John Muir's vision of death as an integral part of the cycle of life:

On no subject are our ideas more warped and pitiable than on death...Let children walk with nature, let them see the beautiful blendings and communions of death and life, their joyous inseparable unity, as taught in woods and meadows, plains and mountains and streams of our blessed star, and they will learn that death is stingless indeed, and as beautiful as life, and that the grave has no victory, for it never fights. All is divine harmony.