forever young

Hello dearest. Back home after a very pleasant afternoon. Hightailed it to the Commonwealth, arrived early so ventured down a back road that went by Simon's Rock and hedge-fund-funded properties, threaded my way back to town, parked, and went to the cinema. Saw Chloe, an erotic psycho-sexual thriller starring Julianne Moore, Liam Neeson, and Amanda Seyfried. It held my interest all the way up to the improbable ending, but I didn't even care, the production values were wonderful - the costumes, Seyfried's beautiful hair, her unusual beauty generally, Liam Neeson who put me in mind of you, and Julianne Moore who put me in mind of me except why can't I look even a tiny bit like her, I wouldn't mind her sculpted cheekbones for example, rather than my thickened middle-age features? I had zero sympathy for her character while she went on about how Old she felt, not with her shapely legs and utterly photogenic silhouette. I mean, really. Seriously - not being falsely modest - if you still love me it can no longer be about looks, not 35 years later. Being philosophical here - perhaps it's best this all be in mind without biology, after all. Not that I'm so dreadful looking, but the disconnect between my internal image of myself and photographed images - I've gone down this thematic road with you before, but it really is discouraging.

Good lord. I didn't mean to go on about that. As I sat in the theatre watching Chloe, I remembered another perfume I once wore, of the same name, by Lagerfeld. I had completely forgotten about it, even with all that heavy-duty remembrance of fragrance past that I engaged in a couple of summers ago with you. Thinking of it at the movies I couldn't - still can't - remember at what time in my life I wore it. And I wore it for a while I think, but amorous associations aren't there. San Francisco perhaps...

I returned along a different route, via highways and back roads. So delightful. I never tire of taking in the beauty of the landscape here - anywhere really. In my youth I used to bike all over North Stamford, Darien, and New Canaan. I would make it as far north as Scott's Corners in Westchester some days, 15 miles from home, dusk approaching, the ride home fortunately downhill, even in the dark...

Birds of a feather, my love - gentle way-old mountains here, brand-spanking new mountains there...