Spent the morning revising the resume of a friend of a friend who lives in NYC, then e-mailed it to her. I then got inspired again to "clear out." Came across a box from my mother with the condolence cards, letters, and notes she received when my father was killed on June 2, 1950. They were so touching and I read all of them with a combination of smiles and tears. One was from Sister (Somebody), my second grade teacher, who wrote that it was hard to believe "the twins had left St. James," meaning that we had graduated from grammar school. (My father was killed within a week of our graduation from eighth grade, our brother, Larry's, from high school, and brother, Jim's, from college.)
Went down to the clubhouse at 1:30 and saw Mamon, a French opera. Boy, what a contrast to the classic Anna Bolena! This incorporated a fair amount of ballet--which I liked--plus some spoken, rather than sung, lines. It was also surprisingly racy in parts. In the scene of a wild party, there's actually a female dancer nude from the waist up and when the two main characters are frolicking around, he does a good imitation of fondling her in--uh, certain areas.
Anyway, it was interesting to see.
Didn't get home until 5:00 and, having overindulged at the clubhouse, had only pickins' for dinner.
Was hoping son Mike would Skype me from Paris, where they're vacationing, but it didn't happen. I think something's wrong with his cam, as I enjoyed a "visit" from daughter Ellen last evening.
Now I must turn my attention to publicity for Moon--aagh!
WIDER: And elsewhere, far, far from the benign world of opera, the drones hover, controlled by savages:
http://original.antiwar.com/engelhardt/2011/10/16/mapping-americas-shadowy-drone-wars/
How in the HELL did we ever come to this?