Well, it’s shaping up to be a wonderful day. After having a delicious breakfast at Pete’s Grill [ed: all that is Good in Baltimore embodied in a greasy spoon], my good friend and I wandered around the farmers’ market, buying baguettes from the French woman and delicious dried fruit rolls. Why is it that in America one has to find a French baker to get decent bread?
We then drove downtown a bit to the wonderful Charles Theater to watch a noon showing of The Wizard of Oz. It was great fun to finally see it on the big screen, in all its Technicolor™ glory, with the children laughing and crying (and switching back and forth with alarming rapidity), and a rather cute girl with a pixie laugh sitting in the next seat… But having seen the movie countless times before, I found myself from time to time paying too close attention to the technical details of the movie. When the Wicked Witch of the West leaves Munchkinland, the smoke machine and trap door are clearly visible. The wire holding up the Scarecrow: clearly visible. The wire controlling the Lion’s tail: clearly visible. The set paintings were clearly distinguishable from the foreground in a disconcerting lack of perspective continuity. And perhaps most disturbing were the words the “brainy” Scarecrow spews upon the conference of his diploma:
The sum of the square roots of any two sides of an isosceles triangle is equal to the square root of the remaining side. Oh, joy, rapture! I’ve got a brain! How can I ever thank you enough?
Need I point out the distinct lack of brains displayed in such an utterance? Oh, but strangely enough, I now find myself amazed that such a poorly made movie could hold such magic for me as this one has since I first saw it, and love it all the more for it.
Now, I take a break to sip a cup of Irish tea and read a bit before heading out to wander through Spring Fair, Hopkins’ annual gathering of food and knick-knack vendors in an attempt to distract the locals from the dreariness of life in Baltimore. I picked up a new book two days ago: a psychological analysis and biography of Nietzsche, written by a woman to whom he once proposed marriage—Lou Salomé. I’m giddy with anticipation.
NP: Billy Bragg, The Only One
