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Crazycrone's Corner

Complaining, Crabbing,Caterwauling...

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Well. the rain brought no relief, in fact, the stultifying humidity has just made me feel even sicker. Antihistamines help, but not enough. I didn't exercise, as it was too wet, and didn't see R Next Door and the dogs. I hope Lula's coping.
I knew I wasn't going to be able to do anything. I was quite overcome by this gruesome pall of doom, the feeling that something absolutely dreadful was gonna happen...Once again, I sound just like my fucking mad mother, who would frequently say in a Dot Cotton voice 'Ohhhhhh, I have such a terrible feeling!'...
So, I went up to see FLORENCE FOSTER JENKINS. It was better than I expected, although I still prefer MARGUERITE. There was lovely thesping from la Streep, Hugh Grant, who is ageing very well, and Simon Helberg. It had great charm, very funny and touching. In fact the celebration of sublime self-delusion made me feel even more melancholy. I think I might have been something like that, if I'd had fabulous wealth to indulge my crazed fixations. It's actually not that uncommon.  One of the wealthy dames who followed the ballet companies, in my Coli days was this 'Madame Oya', a Japanese squllionairess, who used to rent giant billboards to advertise her operatic concerts, and put out LPs of her rather dire vocal feats. She would routinely shower costly gifts on the dancers, who, of course, laughed at her behind her back, but she always appeared very jolly in her delusions. Money can buy happiness.


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I saw bits of Florence Foster Jenkins on Graham Norton - looked well worth a go and Hugh Grant was surprisingly good (I associate him with romcom only). Good to celebrate eccentrics - mainstream is way overrated.

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