Last night my friend John and I celebrated his birthday the way do -- dinner and a movie, both chosen by the celebrant.The movie he chose was Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work, the well-received documentary that makes Joan the woman more interesting than Joan the comedienne. I never thought I'd say this, but I think if I knew her I'd like her, and both John and I certainly felt great compassion toward the old girl.
Then we went to dinner at Wilde's, an Irish pub devoted to the memory of Oscar. I had a huge dish of macaroni and cheese, which was delicious then but not so great now (see below). We ended the evening with a nightcap at a tiny dive bar John knows.
At one point in the movie, Rivers bemoans having to fire her long-time manager. They have been together so long, he's the only one she can turn to and ask, "Remember when ....?" and know he does. After 30 years of friendship, we're like that. And while we can frustrate one another to distraction, we can't fire each another.
I wish I lived somewhere that showed interesting, diverse films. Sounds like an all-around good evening. Except for the tummy troubles.
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