I was at the multiplex today, watching "Madeline". I don't think I've ever actually read any of the books, but the article in the latest Smithsonian magazine about author Ludwig Bemelmans intrigued me, so there I was. I found the (seemingly) on-location Parisian filming enchanting, but the girls' English accents a little odd, as were the occasional (un-subtitled) French outbursts by some of the other characters; but the real discontinuity was an appearance by the Uzbekistani ambassador (in the 1950s?! <1>) which was very odd - don't these kids making films nowadays check anything? It seems they just throw stuff in if it sounds good, or in this case, exotic. Than on the way out I lingered by other theaters' doors, finally pushing open the one marked "Saving Private Ryan". Zzhhhh - thought I'd come in somewhere in the middle, but there was Tom Hanks in the LCVP - the Normandy beach landing was about to happen, jeez. The ramp came down and I got to experience the 27 minutes the reviewers are raving about. It was intense, I was standing there twitching and trembling, but it was a little anti-climatic - the accursed reviews had already informed me of everything to expect. (This was my own fault, though - I could've avoided reading them, but I was figuring it was too extreme so I'd just skip the film.) A curious similarity with my own life in uniform was the blue-diamond "Rangers" patches the troops all wore on their shoulders - this was my patrol at the apex of my Scouting days. My militarily gung-ho chums acquired our own patches at the surplus store, and somehow talked our immediate authorities into allowing our use of this non-BSA insignia. (And I still have my own patch.) I'd like to know more, now, about what these Rangers were. After the scene eventually shifted away I left; I still rather favor "The Longest Day" for my D-Day kicks. Big lobby displays (but if they showed a preview, I missed it) for a Robin Williams film called "What Dreams May Come" which seemed to depict him in Heaven.

After a quick self-car-wash I went home and waxed the thing (not completely, just its horizontal surfaces), then had a long, pleasant phone chat with G & D. When I told D I was off to the mall to get some new threads she talked me into getting something green, in violation of one of Dress For Success' rules, which I generally obey even though David's sister advised me to do otherwise - she said light green matches my eyes. D suggested a mossy green; couldn't find anything like that in a shirt but I did get some olive chinos, since she said G just got some and they looked great. Well, what do I know; may as well listen to the women in these matters of taste. Opened a charge account at the department store to get the 10% discount, tried the renegade consumer act by fudging my SSN on the application. The clerk, on the phone, said that number was deceased, was this my real number? Well, yes, "That sounds right, I can't remember it" - their database retrieved it from a look-up of my name & address off my driver's license.

No contact from Z, she's allegedly been in town visiting someone she met on-line, but her scheduled departure date is tomorrow but she never called. Possibilities of what happened, in increasing probability, include:

• He cut her up into little pieces, which are now distributed throughout Silicon Valley
• She was so wrapped up in what D calls the "pink cloud" (of love) that she could spare no time for me
• Z can't stand me anymore. She's pushed for a deeper relationship than I want at times, then she bumps up against my rigid boundaries and feels rejection <2> so she's pulling back, way back. Yet we've been buddies for ten years now.

And in the biggest personal news, Uncle Crazy left a message on my machine, announcing that he'll be here Tuesday evening. When will he leave? How will I ditch him? He called again, just now, and says he's staying for the night - how could I say no? I planned to resist, but caved immediately. Argh! That's what they say about family - you can't turn them away when they show up. I'm trying to be congenial, recalling the theme L and I derived from his brother O's wedding: "No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." Also trying a motto similar to the Bible-Belt-popular WWJD, instead I'm thinking what would David do, the answer is obvious. But hospitality's difficult with a hermit like me. To add to the stress-to-come, an endontist appointment is scheduled for the following day, and I've a hunch they're going to do (actually re-do) a root canal on the spot.