Yesterday, for Spooky's birthday, we saw The Wizard of Oz (1939) at the Alabama Theater. Spooky had never seen it on a big screen, and I love the Alabama more than just about any theater. The Fox in Atlanta might be grander, but I've been going to the Alabama since about 1968 or 1969, when my mother took me there to see One Million Years B.C.. Afterwards, we drove about for a bit, in cool green places, and there was leftover chili for dinner, and then birthday carrot cake.
Last night, we finished Season Two of Goliath. I'm seeing a lot of animosity and whining from people who didn't like that the "good guys" didn't triumph over evil and people who thought that it was too morbid and horrific, but I say it was great.
Today, I mean to make a serious fucking dent in these boxes, unpacking the last of my books.