I drove up to Maine yesterday and when I got here and set up my laptop realized that I didn't have the power cord.  I'd planned to work on several things but realized that I wouldn't be able to, once the battery was depleted,  so had decided to go home two days early----then, luckily, I found the cord in an obscure pocket of my bag.  So all is well, except that I am appalled at how dependent I am upon the computer.

It is 7:30 AM and I have been up for two hours. Martin is still asleep, and so is Andy, my stepson who came with us for the weekend (and with whom I am going to see "Star Trek" this afternoon).  But Alfie wanted to go out at 5:30, and I went with him; I didn't want to let him run loose at that hour because he might bark and annoy the neighbors.  So I wandered around at the end of the leash while he peed and sniffed, and munched some grass and then barfed, in the mysterious way of dogs. Now he is sound asleep on the couch in the studio where I work, and I am wide awake.

At 6:20 AM I heard what sounded a gunshot in the distance.  I looked at my watch when I heard it because I envisioned being questioned by the police. If the local once-a-week paper says "Local resident killed by gun sometime Saturday morning" I will step forward and testify.

I was in Philadelphia earlier this week in order to meet with the theater director who will be directing "Gossamer" at the People's Light and Theater during their 2009-2010 season, and to speak to their subscribers at an event Tuesday night. Flew home in time to introduce M.T. Anderson when he was awarded the St. Botolph Foundation Distinguished Artist Award Thursday night and to hear him make a brilliant speech. At dinner, afterward, conversation turned to old movies, especially old "noir" films, and I mentioned having recently rented and watched "The Postman Always Rings Twice"---the old version, with Lana Turner and John Garfield---and Susan Cooper, sitting across the table from me, said, "Oh, I think my husband was in that!" (Susan was married to the late Hume Cronym) ---and it is true; he was; he appears late in the film, after the murder; he plays a lawyer.  But isn't that an odd coincidence, that I would have rented and watched a 1946 movie and then mentioned it while sitting across from the wife of...well.  Coincidence is what makes life interesting.

"Their Love was a Flame that Destroyed!" says the poster advertising the film. They just don't make them like this any more.