I Love That Sangria Wine

Sundays are so crazy, and yesterday in particular, it’s a miracle I was able to get my walk in.  I didn’t get home from nursery duty and church until almost 1:15.  I got out the door, with Banks, and 1:40, with a departure time of 3:15 to catch a showing of “Bernie” at 3:40 at the Arbor with Lynn looming large.  And it was HOT.  I never walk at that hour if at all possible, and I don’t know what the temperature was, but the steam felt like it was rising off the sidewalks. After no more than seven or eight minutes, Banks started his “find a shady spot and roll in the grass” routine, and who could blame him?  Clearly he wasn’t even up for St. Ed’s today, so I took him on a big square around a few blocks, probably no more than ½ mile, dropped him off at the house and went to Stacy Park on my own.  I could only handle two hills, and then fled to the shade and flatness of the park’s interior, but not before achieving a bright red neck and chest to memorialize the first 30 minutes or so.  I got in the door at 3:10, had all of five minutes to jump in the shower and get dressed, then it was off to “Bernie.”

OMG.  Run, don’t walk, to see this movie.  I’ve been in the doldrums for the last week or so, and I laughed so much that I think they’re shaken off. It's a small film, a true story of a small town Texas mortician (Jack Black), loved throughout the community for his sunny disposition and service to others, who finally snaps when the wealthy, bitter widow who befriended drives him to the breaking point, and he shoots her in the back and places the body in the deep freeze.  So beloved was he, and so despised was she, that no one really missed her for nine months, and when the crime was uncovered, the town was outraged that Bernie would be prosecuted for what they thought was a perfectly understandable action.  Jack Black was wonderful, but Matthew McConaughey gets my vote for Best Supporting Actor as the straight-arrow district attorney.  A native Texan, he perfected the swaggering self-aggrandizement of the iconic Texas law enforcement figure.  The “citizens” who spoke directly to the camera in support of Bernie were all non-actors and native Texans, and I think mostly residents of Carthage, Texas, where the film takes place. They were HILARIOUS.  If you’re a Texan, you can’t help but feel an absurd pride in the eccentricities of our population.  You really can’t imagine this happening anywhere but here.

Then it was on to Robert and Julie’s house in Round Rock.  They were good friends from our UT days – Lynn was Julie’s roommate for a few years – and re-connecting with them a few years ago, and remaining in regular contact since then, has been one of the great pleasures of my life.  Here we all are eating fajitas and drinking sangria.  That’s Jack, their 10-year-old bulldog, at the head of the table.