Z

Movie day.  After a brisk morning walk and lunch, we went to World War Z in Oxnard, which I loved and Ellen liked.  True, it was larded with violence, terror, and mayhem, but it wasn't human against human, more like human against ex-human.  And wonder of wonders, it didn't deliver a sanctimonious "message," along with the action.  True, a "help each other" from the star was tossed in at the end, but I can stomach that.  I just grit my teeth at the smarmy "inspirational" stuff you see on Facebook, especially the most infuriating type: "If you want this three-year-old to survive cancer...," "help my daddy quit smoking...," "show your love by hitting 'like'...," and so nauseatingly on. 
After communing with Brad Pitt (who else was in it? Dunno, but who cares?), we went to The Avenue and tried on a few clothes.  I decided against them, but bought two pairs of earrings, one gold, one silver (read "gold" and "silver").  Stopped at the supermarket for supplies and, as ever, I was bemused by the prominent displays of wine, beer, and other alcoholic beverages.  To this Jerseyan, it seems the tiniest bit naughty to sell booze along with the soap and linguine.
Called niece Carolyn and we made a tentative date to meet her and other relatives of that generation at Universal Studios in L.A. tomorrow.