[Sometime last winter….]
So the color’s going on the television. Well, it’s gone, basically. I just tone it down and pretend it’s the fifties. Not a problem. I’ll get a new set one of these days. This morning I went looking for a hockey game. Nothing but golf. Not quite the same. I swept past TCM. A pair of guys clowning behind a camel, trying to sneak out of camp. I love these Road movies. Ruffians grab Bob and Bing by the feet and drag them from behind the camel to face Anthony Quinn. But it’s not Anthony Quinn. It’s Omar Sharif. I just mistook Lawrence of Arabia for Road to Morocco. Somewhere, on some other television, that sky, a bird’s egg blue, stretches north to Aqaba. On mine it’s just a soundstage at Paramount.