No Apologies – What’s the one guilty pleasure you have that’s so good, you no longer feel guilty about it?
That’s what Gibbs says. And that’s what The Duke always said. It turns out, in reality, most of us do a great deal of apologizing for all kinds of stuff. But never because things we love are currently out of popular favor.
This brings me to guilty pleasures via the back door. In our household, that phrase has a very specific meaning. It means movies or television shows we love and watch no matter what anyone else thinks of them. Into this category fit all kinds of stuff — from movies we loved when we were teenagers to reruns of TV shows about vampire cops in Canada.
When I was young, it was “A Summer Place” the music of Percy Faith and hunky Troy Donahue. I was only 14, so what do you want to make of it?
To balance the ledger, much later in life, I was so addicted to “Law and Order” I couldn’t go a day without at least one viewing. Fortunately it is always playing somewhere. Cable is good that way.
For Garry, it’s old TV cowboy movies and TV shows replayed on the many oldie channels. One year, we got the entire run of “Have Gun, Will Travel” and sang along with the theme song. It was swell.
And now we come to the “guilty” and “apologies” section. We are too old to apologize. If you don’t like our choices, feel free to not partake, to do your own thing.
Do you have a “thing?”
I’ve been a little out of touch. A good old friend from Arizona is visiting for a couple of days. We haven’t seen each other in person for eight or nine years.
We’ve had a lot of laughter. A lot of catching up to do. And of course, I had to do the 10 cent tour.
Needed to do a bit of traipsing around the valley. A peak at the Blackstone River, visit a dam or two, see a bit of the canal.
Never enough time, too much to say.
Last month was full-bore autumn. Bright trees. Yellow, orange, scarlet, bronze. And yet … and yet …
For the past few days, the leaves have been coming off the trees in a storm.
The ground is covered with oak, maple, sassafras, birch. More than ankle-deep.
The macadam is slippery with leaves. It’s almost like ice. Before there is real ice, we have to clear the driveway and backyard. Winter is close.
Not here, not yet. It’s still warm inside and outside. So warm I turned the heat off. November it may be, but it’s short-sleeved and shorts weather.
Tomorrow, it’s supposed to drop down … into the fifties. Maybe low sixties.
For November in New England, this is not cold. Barely cool.
Maybe winter will just take a pass this year and not show up at the party. I could live with that.
Cardinal Guzman, the host of this challenge, has gorgeous galleries, so please go look!