The Witching Well

Saw the new Indiana Jones film yesterday afternoon, and it is huge fun. Cheesy monsters and cheesier bad guys, with a nice big helping of preposterous defiance of physics on the side, all covered in gooey sweet special effects.

Harrison Ford is getting old, yes, but he’s still very much the man who originally made archeology sexy. And Karen Allen? Still has that staggeringly beautiful smile. And despite being out of Hollywood for a good while now, she slipped right back into Marian like a favorite pair of old jeans. John Hurt and Ray Winstone and Shia LeBeouf and Kate Blanchette were all terrific. Especially Shia, who gets big points in my book for holding his own on screen with so many amazing actors.

My husband pointed out to me on the way out of the theater that aside from Shia, the entire central cluster of heroes in this story is OVER FIFTY. With the requisite romantic tension fully in place, thank you very much. The only reason that happened, of course, is that we’re dealing with established, already beloved characters, but it’s still nice to see. I have a vague hope that Hollywood might see how well it worked and get a little less ageist because of it? (Hey, I’m an optimist.)

Mood: happy
Music: the birds in the neighbors' tree

Did you know that if you bash the back of your hand hard enough, say on the approaching edge of a rapidly sliding train station door, then wait a couple of days for the swelling to go down, you end up looking like you’re wearing a really ugly yellowish fingerless glove with purple-red trim around the bases of your fingers?

In other news, we had our first 99-degree day of the season yesterday. I’m officially tired of summer now.

Mood: hot