Billy Hurt
It’s past midnight, but I’ve just watched a film that turned out to be extraordinarily interesting. It’s not the best-made movie ever, even though it stars two pluperfect luminaries, Susan Sarandon and Sam Neill, and has even more firepower thanks to Emily Blunt, whom we finally get to see without the ridiculous eye shadow that was forced upon her face in The Devil Wears Prada. My lord, she’s lovely! And equal to sicko roles, too. I think she learned the local posh dialect for this movie. Born in London and raised in Roehampton (which is still London), Ms Blunt softens certain syllables in a way that made me wonder. Mind you, when Nicole and I run off together we are going to talk totally Yankee prep.
You laugh. Kathleen just discovered that William Hurt, a/k/ka Billy Hurt, was a camper at Timanous, the brother camp of Kathleen’s Wohelo. I always feel sorry for those guys, because they were stuck on Panther Pond, while the girls had Lake Sebago. On second thought, it was probably best that the boys had Panther Pond – a manageable lake – to themselves. Sebago is big. Lots of camps on Sebago, if you get my drift.
Truly fascinating. Billy Hurt, so to speak, is two years younger than I am and three years older than Kathleen. And what does Kathleen say? She tells me that I’m lucky she didn’t meet him back in the day. Her fervor for the star of Broadcast News is such that I once protested that when I came back again in another life, I’ll be William Hurt. Good! she pronounced.
I suppose that that means that she still wants me. Even if I look better.