Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically. The cataclysm has happened, we are among the ruins, we start to build up new little habitats, to have new little hopes. It is rather hard work: there is now no smooth road into the future: but we go round, or scramble over the obstacles. We’ve got to live, no matter how many skies have fallen.
Lady Chatterley’s Lover, D.H. Lawrence
The Friendly Greek celebrates his birthday today. I played the good wife and made him breakfast and posted a sexy pic of his speedo days on Facebook but cropped it just so because I’m not that mean.
Then, because only fools go to Wagner operas for five hours on their birthday, I whipped up a little Raspberry Fool* for ♥ Day tomorrow, when the bleary-eyed fans stumble into daylight hours later.
Yes, the good wife points will run out. I’m a fairweather opera fan and ditched him, offering up my almost twenty-year-old-kid as a replacement date for tonight’s Die Walkure. They’re a perfect match. She was born a curious cat; lives on discovering art. Her dad is a charming date. Who will fall asleep first in their finery?
For my adult life, Valentine’s Dad has been tied into Peter’s birthday so whether he likes it or not, he’s been the recipient of a bunch of heart-themed parties, otherwise an excuse to experiment with chocolate and other caloric aphrodisiacs.
For those without dates for this madeup holiday, I leave you with the final scene from one of my all time favourite films, Cinema Paradiso. In this scene, acclaimed film director Salvatore di Vita returns to his hometown to attend the funeral of a man he adored, the old projectionist Alfredo, who left him a gift: a mysterious film reel he later discovers is a series of scenes once censored, now edited together as a parting gift for his friend.