Author Mike Monson offers a review of Broken Glass Waltzes over at his place. If the spirit should move you after reading his review, you can pick it up in e-reader form for a mere 99 cents as part of Snubnose’s birthday celebration, but don’t worry — dead tree copies may be had as well!
One of the interesting aspects of the film noir class I taught last term was that a couple of my students acknowledged that Robert Mitchum made their little hearts go pitty-pat. I have to admit that he’s one of my favorite actors as well, and I picked up Lee Server’s bio of the man the other day through interlibrary loan. I’ll probably get rolling on it this afternoon.
Mrs. M got some new wheels a couple of days ago — new to us, anyway. This means that the Spawn gets her previous ride (which conveniently enough, is the one in which she is learning to drive), while I fulfill the paternal role of standing pat with the green drum-hauler. However, Mrs. M and I have agreed that the next ride will be:
a) Mine, and
b) a convertible. Although most people think of ragtops as summer cars, that’s really not such a great idea here in Mondoville, where July often feels like one is trying to breathe at the bottom of an enormous bowl of chicken broth. However, to me, that just means that “convertible season” begins in late September and runs into May. I’ll be the one with the top down in the Christmas parade. One day…
Meanwhile, the trial is getting closer, to the point at which I’m no longer thinking of it in months, but in weeks or days. Consequently, I find myself growing increasingly tense and seeking distractions. With luck, the Berries’ album will be out in pretty short order, and I’ll have something new and fun to think and talk about, but I have to admit that the uncertainty of things is sometimes wearying.
Well, lest I devolve into full Larry King mode (“Strawberries… I like ’em. Why does a talented actor like Sidney Poitier always have to play black men? Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania…”), I’ll close for now. Talk to you soon!