Sister is amused at times, and distraught at other times – she still hasn’t forgiven me for posting a picture of her somnolent form on the web – but she did catch a couple of points in the text I wrote – she caught the very points I was trying to get across. Unlike, say, my own dear Ma Wetzel who just grouses about the inaccuracy of text. “But you said that, Mom, I have three witnesses.”
“Bah. Those witnesses lie.”
So while Sister was laid up on the couch, she dog-eared a few of the pages, “Kramer, that book of your essays is fucking brilliant,” she said.
Had some damn fine fish and chips at the Tate Modern museum. Just sort of all fit into place to dine there, and the Brits do deserve accolades with the way they can cook with hot grease. From thence, it was a quick tour through the Globe and from thence to the Museum of London, then off to the theater for a little RSC.
It was a production of that old fave, Romeo y Juliet. Good, solid production. I’m sorry to say, I found the pacing, in the second half, to be a little off. Not a bad show, and well-worth the price of admission, but the pacing, seemed a little slow. Firs half? Really excellent.
