they come home tomorrow so I may have the house to myself yet again. yesterday I watched The Help, which we'd read for book club the month before last. It was a funny story with lots of tragedy and so forth, a good romance, she does end up with the senator but that's not truly implied here. she goes to harper and row as an editor's assistant, she lives in an antebellum sort ofhouse and her mother has had ulcers for a while. the maids have a different life, theirs is inbetweeny and transient in the way of all flesh to be subservient to their master in heaven: we should endure this because it is what we know? I doubt it. It's a back and forth story because the scary parts happened in the late fifties early sixties and now is a time for reflection on it because I don't think people really care to mix races even now. This is why I like to study British film because they don't seem to have that problem so much. I figure to learn from this how it is they are more accepting and less racially biased but then, where i am we only have the indians and it's different. It truly is. they are a different race with different cultural values but there's the citizen thing and it makes us all velveeta in the smoothness of its absorption quality. we don't really have to blame anyone for it because we don't seem to mind it at all.
and then there is the havana angle, which I wanted to get into again but now I have to go get ready to go to the hospital and I think that means having a shower and getting dressed, which I'd better get busy with since I've eaten and written about the new baby. now i'm going back to see him again and I need to call the girls and tell them what a sweetie this child is, talk to my mother and tell her as well, talk to the boys and give them my version of things..
so again away and the havana characters will remain on the stage in their roles as thunder and lightening...for now
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