Finally saw JC's little home movies. The one where JC tosses his jacket on the bed and Lonnie calls himself a negro eskimo? Where the cameraman's complaining about the light levels? At one point he says "I can't make him lighter" or something like that, all talking about JC as "he" and "him," and I swear JC had this air about him like he was conscious of being referred to in the third person and didn't like it much. Or am I projecting? That could certainly be. But he does have an odd relation to the camera for just that moment or two, unlike how he is at any other point.
Happy Birthday to me! On my birthday next week I will be celebrating by going to the dentist: reached up to loosen what I thought was a popcorn kernal, only to come away with half my tooth. Now my tongue won't stop going there, trying to stuff itself into the hole. Stop it, naughty tongue! At least it doesn't hurt. But, waaah! It's the beginning of the end. Next thing you know, I'll be sipping Ensure out of a straw. Someone else'll have to hold it, though. I'll be too tremulous.
At least my faith in the universe's dark sense of humor is confirmed. That's always nice.