Friday night I got to hang out with one of my best friends, Catheryn. We like to get together and craft and talk cats. In other words, things Husbands Don’t Do. Larry has been a prince, giving up nights while we do girlie things in the Craft Clubhouse. (It usually also includes re-watching “Poldark” and drinking tea.)
This night, I hung out at Catheryn’s in midtown. We walked a few blocks to Koreatown, shopped at an Asian hypermarket and found all sorts of foods we didn’t know existed. Actually, I did know about durian. My brother and his wife brought some durian candy back from a trip to China. The fruit’s smell is so pungent, they had to get the mildest version of the durian candy, and they had to put it in a special container in their luggage. I didn’t mind the candy at all, it kind of reminded me of sweet vidalia onion and pineapple. With a hint of turpentine. Well, maybe not turpentine. It had some oddball smell in it. but maybe that’s the reason the fruit is in an air-tight fridge here.
We caught a beautiful sunset. We’ve all seen astounding sunsets. We snap photos, and they never quite do justice to the real thing. But this is what we saw on Friday night.
We watched the movie Sing Street on Netflix. It’s from the creator of Once and Begin Again. Set in Dublin in 1985, a poor teenage kid, CONOR, forms a band in order to impress a local girl. His slacker older brother teaches him about bands and music. Conor mimics that band’s sound and sartorial style with each new song he writes. (watch him show up to school dressed like The Cure or Adam Ant!).
Eventually Conor finds his own voice and discovers that, even if he made the band to impress a girl, he’s actually musician. Brits may have a stiff upper lift, but they can get unabashedly sentimental in their movies. that can turn syrupy, but this movie pulled it off. If you liked Billy Elliott, I think you’ll love Sing Street. It’s adorable.
