Bloggers Wall, and Boston Legal

Truly the wrong time to hit the bloggers wall, but it’s the eighteenth mile, and my brain is cramped.  I sorta acted like a crazy lady at the bank because they were out of quarters.  My building has never changed over to pay for a card, slip it into the machine, civilized method.  It’s very sad when one of your biggest dreams in life is space for a washer dryer. 

But my six hundred square feet that is sadly worth more than most homes has no room for amenities such as a working kitchen.  I do have the giant bathroom which, okay I love having a bath and a half, and don’t understand why some people feel the need to tell me it’s decadent.  What’s decadent about living half well? I have just reached that stage in life where a real kitchen, a deck, and an ocean front view while I’m at it, appeals to me much more than Manhattan’s fabled night life.

I’m going to BB King’s on Friday night?  How many cities could I go to a BB King’s in?  My point exactly.  Manhattan is just like your city.  You probably have cuter neighborhoods with more affordable gourmet restaurants

I represent the last generation to be young in a much grittier edgier Manhattan.  I personally lived in the safest of all neighborhoods with not an edge of grit most of the time, but all cabs led downtown or occasionally to a jazz club in the late 90’s or early 100’s and Broadway, or the singles restaurants on the Upper West Side.

Bruce Willis was my bartender, you know.  Well Lucia and I used to go to the bar he worked at.  Can never remember the name but remember the bar was oval or roundish, the lighting blue, and the restaurant to the right of the bar but felt very far away was the perfect place to discuss a crisis.

And one of us was always in crisis mode.  Somehow we were able to take turns.  I have no idea how; we had no sense of scale.  Everything was equally horrible, in a wonderful way.  We knew we were blessed.   We just weren’t sure with what.

Don’t usually feel that drama  queen mode anymore.  But I can’t take this new Manhattan where the streets are cleaner but the people are meaner.  Usually I can hold back, but I just couldn’t today.  Have to get out of here, before I turn into a raving lunatic.  People bump you and demand an apology.  I give it.  Wouldn’t have today and that’s neither smart nor nice. 

Esoteric Wombat, too tired to link, manana, talked about the last minute of Boston Legal.  Yes it was amazing, and disturbing.  Alan Shore, the incomparable amazing James Spader, had represented a man accused of killing his wife who had Alzheimer’s.  Denny Crane, William Shatner in the continual performance of a lifetime, personalized it.  The trial was difficult; the man made a great witness.

Alan Shore caught the man looking at his wife’s nurse after the trial.  The look was unmistakable.  “We got away with it.”

James Spader was amazing. His face changed from one emotion to a fourth in a matter of seconds.  But maybe, just maybe, he had killed his wife because she wanted it.  Boston Legal doesn’t give easy answers.

There were two other great stories; the managing partner, always forget his name, had stopped speaking to his junkie daughter.  No longer a junkie, she has a three year old daughter he didn’t know about.  Watching them fight and reconcile was watching reality.  Both of their arguments had validity.

 Did his tough love cause her to straighten out?  Or did she do in spite of him and need him near her while she hit bottom and recovered?

The third story was silly; Shirley Schmitt’s, Candice Bergen so much better than in Murphy Brown, ex-husband wanted her to best man at his sixth wedding to a girl in every sense, who asked Shirley:

 “You’re not one of those people who hate the Religious Right….?”   The look on Candice Bergen’s face. Totally awesome. This is one cast that can act.  For the most personal of reasons I have a soft spot for people who remain friends much much longer than they were married.  Shiriey Schmitt and her ex looked at each other with real affection.  That made me very happy.

As long as I’m talking about acting; Viggio Mortenson gave the performance of a lifetime in A History of Violence. He’s my other favorite actor, anyway, but he was brilliant.  Heath Ledger was great, not that many of you would know.

But Viggio Mortenson rocked.

Think my bloggers wall might be over sooner than later. But I can’t do comments tonight, just can’t, and might not have the time tomorrow.