Walking in Memphis

Relatively uneventful day today. Had our annual office holiday luncheon, my table featuring more stories about nuns and Civil War re-enactments than I typically hear in an afternoon. (Different stories, those; no, nothing about General Sherman storming Atlanta by rapping the rebs on the knuckles with rulers.) Took Eleanor to Wegmans for some grocery shopping and some coworker reunions (wherein she discovered, the hard way, that walking about the store with her hands at her sides was rather hazardous to her hand-held health). Had a delightful variant, which Eleanor created, on a long-standing dinner staple of ours that we refer to as "two cans and a plastic bag," a relatively quickie combo of sausage, canned tomatoes and black-eyed peas; tonight's version featured a pesto-and-feta variety of sausage that Wegmans gave out free-sample coupons to its employees to try. Om nom nom.

Ending the day, though, was a showing of a film I'd Netflixed weeks ago and promptly forgot about: Mystery Train, a three-story montage all centered on late 1980s Memphis, featuring a range of actors from the Clash's Joe Strummer to the Sopranos' Steve Buscemi. Even though much of the dialogue was in Japanese or Italian (and little of it was translated through subtitles or closed-captioning), the performances and facial expressions of the actors were enough to make you understand them, appreciate them, and for the most part adore them. Highly recommended, arigato.

Thanks, as well, to my sister, already phoned in and posted elsewhere, for the fruit basket that arrived here this afternoon. More om more nom more nom.

And that's all I have to say about all that.