DartreDame and I (Pramila became "DartreDame" during our early-in-relationship visit to Paris) thrust ourselves out into yesterday's sunny Seattle afternoon as if we'd die if we didn't get our Vitamin D dose. We, like all Seattleites, have been longing and complaining and yearning and mourning for our fair share of Sun and Warmth. So, when the Sun showed she still showers us on occasion--and this time on a Friday afternoon on the eve of a predicted totally Sunny weekend--we couldn't believe our good fortune!
Out we dashed to the waterfront for a bite and a bathe into our old pal the Sun.
Later, still glowing inside and out, we sallied off to see Woody Allen's newest, Midnight in Paris. Remember all those times in the past twenty years when you go to his "latest" with great anticipation (or maybe successively diminished anticipation) only to be let down. Maybe it was clever. Maybe it had yet another great beauty, but not much to it. They have seemed to leave me unfulfilled for many a year now. Not to mention the anger and disappointment at his reported personal failings.
Midnight in Paris is the one for which I've been yearning. Glittering shots of Paris, a familiar but sweet plot line, an uncannily Woody Allenesque Owen Wilson, and yes, amazingly beautiful women. But, best of all for me, it was just funny and funny and funny. I suspended disbelief over and over despite the avalanche of absurdity.
Ah, Woody Allen swept Dartre and me away on the perfect Friday evening in our domestic Paris: Seattle.
But wait, there's more! Thanks to randonneuring and the Paris Brest Paris, we are Paris bound in just two months. We will walk those very lanes, stroll the Seine, and maybe it will even rain on us some warm Paris evening (see the film to appreciate this). If it does, I will cherish that rain as much as I am loving this Seattle Sun right this very moment.
|Midnight in Paris promotional photo.|