Midnight Musings

I saw the new Tom Hanks movie, The Terminal, the other night. I had decided to stop waiting for other people to do things with me because there are so many things I miss out on that way. I told someone I was going to take myself out to a movie and he said, "Oh, do you want me to go with you?" (My friends know me so well.) I laughed and said, "Did I not just say I was going to go by myself?" He responded, "I just thought you might like some company." The fact is I always like company, so we went together. It was just as well, because he was the same friend who went with me to see the awful The Ladykillers, also starring Tom Hanks. I thought the performance was goofier than it should have been for such a dark film. He's not as pigeonholed as, say, his friend Meg Ryan, who really doesn't do well in other than light romantic comedy or damsel-in-distress roles, but he has his weaknesses just like everyone else. He is much better in this one and I forgive him for the other role. I blame his agent. That's what he gets paid for, anyway.

'night.

It's a funny thing. I know, they're not called compartments; they're called chambers. (How old was I when I first learned that? Do I care?) Palaces have chambers. Judges have chambers, too. There is a judge here named Chambers but they call her chambers her "office" at her request. I suppose it's not very funny if you have to deal with it on a day to day basis. It's like the Cape May Courthouse courthouse or the North Branch branch of the Red Bank Bank - both of which, at this writing, actually exist.

But the emotional heart has compartments. Not everyone realizes that and not everyone who realizes it can take advantage of the fact. Why am I saying this? Because I have two very complicated friends. I don't know how complicated they, themselves, are, but their relationship is a whole blog unto itself. I met them as a couple and really only spent much time with one of them. Recently, I've spent more time with each, both separately and together. Occasionally they will talk about a conversation they had with each other and that's the funny thing. To see the one person through the eyes of the other and then be able to put it aside for your own view of that person is strangely fascinating. I can't possibly see all facets of another person or even all the facets someone else sees. It's unfair to make judgments based on something someone else sees. (Now *there's* a revelation. If I looked through your eyes at the color you call green, would I see the color I call pink?) So I continue to hold my view of the person based on what I alone have experienced with them, while musing over - or ignoring - what I've been told. It's the fairest plan of action and, since life isn't fair, it's my duty to do things right if I want to have a say.

My, but I'm high up in this ivory tower.

'night.

Tonight I was with some people who are deaf. It was not by accident - it was planned. These particular people are patient with my inexpert sign language and it's fun to try to communicate with them.

There was a musical practice in a room nearby and it was rather loud. Then my cell phone rang. While I walked towards the corridor at the far side of the room, I said, "Hang on, I can't hear," and then looked around to see if anyone happened to have been reading my lips at the time. It was a very bizarre moment.

'night.

I have no idea why evolution is an accepted theory.


Potty cat

'night.

What I want to know is, who is June and what was she singing in the first place? Is changing her tune an improvement? Maybe she was singing something we wanted to hear and changing it would be bad. Or maybe she was out of tune and she is changing to be in tune. I think the lyric needs some fine-tuning.

'night.