My buddy Pizz posted the second trailer for the upcoming James Bond movie, “No Time To Die,” on Facebook the other day.
Good tidings, indeed.
But he also said he probably won’t be going to a movie theater.
I don’t remember the last time I was in a theater, although it was obviously in the Before Times, and I’m guessing it was an NT Live screening at Coolidge Corner, which we now look at wistfully the weeks we get pizza from the place across the street.
Although it’s certainly not the theater experience, we’ve found plenty of entertaining streaming fare. (I found “One Man, Two Guvnors” with James Corden to be a madcap, hilarious romp, but then again, I’m not a culture writer or theater critic for The New York Times.)
Just yesterday, Suzi and I saw Andrew Scott perform “Three Kings” from an empty The Old Vic in London, and the other day, she sent me an email titled “Relevant to your interests” with a link to “First Date: The Musical” starring Samantha Barks. (It was relevant because I’m a big fan of Samantha Barks.)
However, I don’t think “No Time To Die” is going to be anywhere but a movie theater, so will my love of all things James Bond lure me in?
During … you know … doing anything new requires negotiations: with yourself (how much risk you’re willing to take, how you’ll protect yourself and others), the rules (strict enough or not?) and what you can’t control (because other people are going to … other people).
Let’s just say … I know which way I’m leaning — What are the seats most likely to not be near any other human beings? — but negotiations are ongoing, and ask me closer to Nov. 20.
WHAT I WROTE
Sometimes, the old solutions work best, especially when I don’t have to actually do anything for them to work.
If a college has to ban students from holding doors for each other, I question why students are even there.
WHAT I TALKED ABOUT
Walking … and other things I like doing early in the morning.
STUFF I READ
Pea Green sent her kids back to school, and Lindsay is back in the classroom. Both contained their fair share of adventure. (I only posted one here, but Lindsay wrote a weeklong series, and I recommend all of it.)
Rachel writes about the joy given and the joy taken away. As usual, it’s about baseball, but not just about baseball.
Tony tries to keep things in perspective.
Paul has thoughts … 50 of them. (Plus a few subthoughts.)
Renata ponders the little things that have changed during lockdown.
Alexia knows that progress doesn’t always go in a straight line.
A Dating Dad explains that sometimes it’s good when friends drop off your radar.
Claire worked on being positive in August.
Austin fights the urge to skip running.
Rosie reviews how she’s doing for her word of 2020.
Becky has started doing yoga.
Savannah has some new decorations for her new house.
I’m still uncertain about whether I should do a lot of things, and I don’t even have kids to worry about.
Well, it’s certainly not going to school in the kitchen.
I have no doubt Santa will be wearing a mask during his Christmas Eve rounds.
There’s plenty out there to remind me I’m not as good of a writer as I think I am. Take this, for example. And this. Also this. And always, always, this and this. (Plus about 10 other things I have bookmarked for this purpose, and a lot of what I post in this space every Sunday.)
TWEETS I LIKED
Sand in shoes … will return.
Hey … something good happened in 2020!
If we lose egg nog for any reason this year, there are going to be problems.
I’m more of a “What does anyone still see in Gary Sanchez?” type, but not necessarily at red lights.
“Schoolhouse Rock” should be mandatory … for adults, too.
It’s always the last place you look (says the guy who frantically searched for his cellphone while using it to talk to his parents).