Not as much yesterday. I suddenly developed catatonic tiredness at about half three, and retired to my boudoir, with instructions to the gentleman in my life to wake me at half four. Five he said. Half five he woke me.
We watched Cabaret, which he has never seen before, to our shared amazement. We both thoroughly enjoyed. However many times I see it, the song "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" makes goose-pimples over my entire body. It's a deeply uncomfortable feeling, even though I know it was the intention of the film-makers. It has always troubled me - if I was young and impressionable in 1930s Germany, would I have been a Nazi sympathiser. Of course, growing up a socialist in 70s/80s Britain, I would like to think I would not be. But I can't be sure.
We also tried watching Oklahoma, but it was a big disapppointment. I had really liked it as a teenager, and sort of assumed that I still did. It must be ten years since I've seen it. Jimmy said it was old-fashioned, with all the songs much the same. I was not inclined to argue.
We then watched half of Blow-Up, before he retired, defeated to the bedroom. Not before he had identified Stockwell Road, by the row of Pride and Clark (??) all along one side.
He's gone to mow his father's grass and I'm listening to West Side Story.
