A Christmas Story

Enjoy!

My Xmas Story

by Mark Evanier
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED 7/9/99
Comics Buyer's Guide

I want to tell you a story…

The scene is Farmers Market — the famed tourist mecca of Los Angeles. It's located but yards from the facility they call, "CBS Television City in Hollywood"…which, of course, is not in Hollywood but at least is very close.

Farmers Market is a quaint collection of bungalow stores, produce stalls and little stands where one can buy darn near anything edible one wishes to devour. You buy your pizza slice or sandwich or Chinese food or whatever at one of umpteen counters, then carry it on a tray to an open-air table for consumption.

During the Summer or on weekends, the place is full of families and tourists and Japanese tour groups. But this was a winter weekday, not long before Christmas, and the crowd was mostly older folks, dawdling over coffee and danish. For most of them, it's a good place to get a donut or a taco, to sit and read the paper.

For me, it's a good place to get out of the house and grab something to eat. I arrived, headed for my favorite barbecue stand and, en route, noticed that Mel Tormé was seated at one of the tables.

Mel Tormé. My favorite singer. Just sitting there, sipping a cup of coffee, munching on an English Muffin, reading The New York Times. Mel Tormé.

I had never met Mel Tormé. Alas, I still haven't and now I never will. He looked like he was engrossed in the paper that day so I didn't stop and say, "Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you how much I've enjoyed all your records." I wish I had.

Instead, I continued over to the BBQ place, got myself a chicken sandwich and settled down at a table to consume it. I was about halfway through when four Christmas carolers strolled by, singing "Let It Snow," a cappella.

They were young adults with strong, fine voices and they were all clad in splendid Victorian garb. The Market had hired them (I assume) to stroll about and sing for the diners — a little touch of the holidays.

"Let It Snow" concluded not far from me to polite applause from all within earshot. I waved the leader of the chorale over and directed his attention to Mr. Tormé, seated about twenty yards from me.

"That's Mel Tormé down there. Do you know who he is?"

The singer was about 25 so it didn't horrify me that he said, "No."

I asked, "Do you know 'The Christmas Song?'"

Again, a "No."

I said, "That's the one that starts, 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…'"

"Oh, yes," the caroler chirped. "Is that what it's called? 'The Christmas Song?'"

"That's the name," I explained. "And that man wrote it." The singer thanked me, returned to his group for a brief huddle…and then they strolled down towards Mel Tormé. I ditched the rest of my sandwich and followed, a few steps behind. As they reached their quarry, they began singing, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" directly to him.

A big smile formed on Mel Tormé's face — and it wasn't the only one around. Most of those sitting at nearby tables knew who he was and many seemed aware of the significance of singing that song to him. For those who didn't, there was a sudden flurry of whispers: "That's Mel Tormé…he wrote that…"

As the choir reached the last chorus or two of the song, Mel got to his feet and made a little gesture that meant, "Let me sing one chorus solo." The carolers — all still apparently unaware they were in the presence of one of the world's great singers — looked a bit uncomfortable. I'd bet at least a couple were thinking, "Oh, no…the little fat guy wants to sing."

But they stopped and the little fat guy started to sing…and, of course, out came this beautiful, melodic, perfectly-on-pitch voice. The look on the face of the singer I'd briefed was amazed at first…then properly impressed.

On Mr. Tormé's signal, they all joined in on the final lines: "Although it's been said, many times, many ways…Merry Christmas to you…" Big smiles all around.

And not just from them. I looked and at all the tables surrounding the impromptu performance, I saw huge grins of delight…which segued, as the song ended, into a huge burst of applause. The whole tune only lasted about two minutes but I doubt anyone who was there will ever forget it.

I have witnessed a number of thrilling "show business" moments — those incidents, far and few between, where all the little hairs on your epidermis snap to attention and tingle with joy. Usually, these occur on a screen or stage. I hadn't expected to experience one next to a falafel stand — but I did.

Tormé thanked the harmonizers for the serenade and one of the women said, "You really wrote that?"

He nodded. "A wonderful songwriter named Bob Wells and I wrote that…and, get this — we did it on the hottest day of the year in July. It was a way to cool down."

Then the gent I'd briefed said, "You know, you're not a bad singer." He actually said that to Mel Tormé.

Mel chuckled. He realized that these four young folks hadn't the velvet-foggiest notion who he was, above and beyond the fact that he'd worked on that classic carol. "Well," he said. "I've actually made a few records in my day…"

"Really?" the other man asked. "How many?"

Tormé smiled and said, "Ninety."

I probably own about half of them on vinyl and/or CD. For some reason, they sound better on vinyl. (My favorite was the album he made with Buddy Rich. Go ahead. Find me a better parlay of singer and drummer. I'll wait.)

Today, as I'm reading obits, I'm reminded of that moment. And I'm impressed to remember that Mel Tormé was also an accomplished author and actor. Mostly though, I'm recalling that pre-Christmas afternoon.

I love people who do something so well that you can't conceive of it being done better. Doesn't even have to be something important: Singing, dancing, plate-spinning, mooning your neighbor's cat, whatever. There is a certain beauty to doing almost anything to perfection.

No recording exists of that chorus that Mel Tormé sang for the other diners at Farmers Market but if you never believe another word I write, trust me on this. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

(Source credit: Mark Evanier

Jeopardy! moments

Just a couple of little moments from this week...

First, earlier Rob said he'd never been able to see Book of Mormon because they always wanted $1,000 for a ticket. I don't know what he's talking about. I saw it on Broadway - on Broadway, Rob! - for about 1/3 of that.

And then, tonight. Well, I mean ... the clue for Final was "The first line for the title character in this classic (1970s movie) was 'Why did you go to the police? Why didn't you come to me?'" That had been the New York Times's clue for the day, and I hadn't known it. But when Alex read it, he imitated Marlon Brando's delivery. Which kinda gave it away. Grrrrr. At least they all got it, so no harm no foul. I guess. Grrrrr.

Before the Computer...

Someone posted this on Facebook - Luke Skywalker on Ahch-To ... or rather, Mark Hamill on Skellig Michael, Ireland. All those puffins? They couldn't be displaced, so they were turned into porgs.

Shaving in increments

Alex Trebek this week, shaving the beard despite its overwhelming fan support - his wife disliked it.

Monday he had the full beard. Tuesday it was a goatee. Wednesday, just the mustache. Thursday, clean shaven.

Kathie wondered if he'd come out Friday wearing a bald cap. Unfortunately, he didn't.

Monday

Tuesday

Wednesday

Thursday

Friday

Noun-noun modification: as always in English, Word Order Counts

So,Jeopardy! had a category where the answer was three rhyming words. One of the clues was "Mother in a cute movie about a guy and a girl". The contestant answered "What is a mom rom com?"

They gave it to her.

Nope.

In English the head noun - the one that is what you're talking about - is the last one. The preceding nouns modify that one. What kind of modification, precisely, is unpredictable, but "sports journalist, woman journalist, magazine journalist," and "crime jornalist" are all journalists. A "race horse" is not a "horse race" and a "dog house" is a different thing than a "house dog."

And a "mom rom com" is a movie. A "rom com mom" is a mother.

Please check for the answer you already knew KTHXBAI

Ah, customer relations is hard. I complained to Regal that they had stopped showing the TCM Big Screen Classics series at the local theater. They sent an email saying "Thank you for taking the time to contact our office. Please go to our website, regmovies.com, and go to the Turner Classic Movies page and you will find movies and times."

So, I did, thinking maybe I'd screwed up. But what I find is "Hmm... we couldn't find any showtimes for this date and location."

Once again, someone responds without paying any real attention. I am well aware that they show them IN SOME PLACES. That does not address my issue, which is that I am not driving to Chattanooga to see a movie.

This was SO good

There's only a few more weeks. But see it if you can. It's brilliant. SO GOOD.

Soþlic spell

(True story) (Nine hundred years of Time and Space and I never met anyone who is not important. - The Doctor)

A Christmas Story

Enjoy!

My Xmas Story

by Mark Evanier
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED 7/9/99
Comics Buyer's Guide

I want to tell you a story…

The scene is Farmers Market — the famed tourist mecca of Los Angeles. It's located but yards from the facility they call, "CBS Television City in Hollywood"…which, of course, is not in Hollywood but at least is very close.

Farmers Market is a quaint collection of bungalow stores, produce stalls and little stands where one can buy darn near anything edible one wishes to devour. You buy your pizza slice or sandwich or Chinese food or whatever at one of umpteen counters, then carry it on a tray to an open-air table for consumption.

During the Summer or on weekends, the place is full of families and tourists and Japanese tour groups. But this was a winter weekday, not long before Christmas, and the crowd was mostly older folks, dawdling over coffee and danish. For most of them, it's a good place to get a donut or a taco, to sit and read the paper.

For me, it's a good place to get out of the house and grab something to eat. I arrived, headed for my favorite barbecue stand and, en route, noticed that Mel Tormé was seated at one of the tables.

Mel Tormé. My favorite singer. Just sitting there, sipping a cup of coffee, munching on an English Muffin, reading The New York Times. Mel Tormé.

I had never met Mel Tormé. Alas, I still haven't and now I never will. He looked like he was engrossed in the paper that day so I didn't stop and say, "Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you how much I've enjoyed all your records." I wish I had.

Instead, I continued over to the BBQ place, got myself a chicken sandwich and settled down at a table to consume it. I was about halfway through when four Christmas carolers strolled by, singing "Let It Snow," a cappella.

They were young adults with strong, fine voices and they were all clad in splendid Victorian garb. The Market had hired them (I assume) to stroll about and sing for the diners — a little touch of the holidays.

"Let It Snow" concluded not far from me to polite applause from all within earshot. I waved the leader of the chorale over and directed his attention to Mr. Tormé, seated about twenty yards from me.

"That's Mel Tormé down there. Do you know who he is?"

The singer was about 25 so it didn't horrify me that he said, "No."

I asked, "Do you know 'The Christmas Song?'"

Again, a "No."

I said, "That's the one that starts, 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…'"

"Oh, yes," the caroler chirped. "Is that what it's called? 'The Christmas Song?'"

"That's the name," I explained. "And that man wrote it." The singer thanked me, returned to his group for a brief huddle…and then they strolled down towards Mel Tormé. I ditched the rest of my sandwich and followed, a few steps behind. As they reached their quarry, they began singing, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" directly to him.

A big smile formed on Mel Tormé's face — and it wasn't the only one around. Most of those sitting at nearby tables knew who he was and many seemed aware of the significance of singing that song to him. For those who didn't, there was a sudden flurry of whispers: "That's Mel Tormé…he wrote that…"

As the choir reached the last chorus or two of the song, Mel got to his feet and made a little gesture that meant, "Let me sing one chorus solo." The carolers — all still apparently unaware they were in the presence of one of the world's great singers — looked a bit uncomfortable. I'd bet at least a couple were thinking, "Oh, no…the little fat guy wants to sing."

But they stopped and the little fat guy started to sing…and, of course, out came this beautiful, melodic, perfectly-on-pitch voice. The look on the face of the singer I'd briefed was amazed at first…then properly impressed.

On Mr. Tormé's signal, they all joined in on the final lines: "Although it's been said, many times, many ways…Merry Christmas to you…" Big smiles all around.

And not just from them. I looked and at all the tables surrounding the impromptu performance, I saw huge grins of delight…which segued, as the song ended, into a huge burst of applause. The whole tune only lasted about two minutes but I doubt anyone who was there will ever forget it.

I have witnessed a number of thrilling "show business" moments — those incidents, far and few between, where all the little hairs on your epidermis snap to attention and tingle with joy. Usually, these occur on a screen or stage. I hadn't expected to experience one next to a falafel stand — but I did.

Tormé thanked the harmonizers for the serenade and one of the women said, "You really wrote that?"

He nodded. "A wonderful songwriter named Bob Wells and I wrote that…and, get this — we did it on the hottest day of the year in July. It was a way to cool down."

Then the gent I'd briefed said, "You know, you're not a bad singer." He actually said that to Mel Tormé.

Mel chuckled. He realized that these four young folks hadn't the velvet-foggiest notion who he was, above and beyond the fact that he'd worked on that classic carol. "Well," he said. "I've actually made a few records in my day…"

"Really?" the other man asked. "How many?"

Tormé smiled and said, "Ninety."

I probably own about half of them on vinyl and/or CD. For some reason, they sound better on vinyl. (My favorite was the album he made with Buddy Rich. Go ahead. Find me a better parlay of singer and drummer. I'll wait.)

Today, as I'm reading obits, I'm reminded of that moment. And I'm impressed to remember that Mel Tormé was also an accomplished author and actor. Mostly though, I'm recalling that pre-Christmas afternoon.

I love people who do something so well that you can't conceive of it being done better. Doesn't even have to be something important: Singing, dancing, plate-spinning, mooning your neighbor's cat, whatever. There is a certain beauty to doing almost anything to perfection.

No recording exists of that chorus that Mel Tormé sang for the other diners at Farmers Market but if you never believe another word I write, trust me on this. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

(Source credit: Mark Evanier

putting that degree to good use, eh?

Ignore the wolf(?) chasing the chipmunk. Look at Mark's blithe statement that a guy with "a film degree" (MFA, probably) is the right guy to "test new video equipment".

Of course, given that Johnny is currently monitoring a ferret reintroduction program in the Midwest, maybe his degree isn't an MFA, and testing video equipment for a wildlife magazine will be a tempting proposition.

Triumphant return of Entertainment

yes!

Live: The Busy Body at the Clarence Brown - well acted and very funny. Rent at the Tennessee ... they did a good job (except for some of the singers not being able to get over the band) but ... I'd never seen it before and I was definitely underwhelmed.

Film: All About Eve in the TCM Classic series. Such a good movie. The Great Wall, which was entertaining and eye-filling, well cast, a bit predictable and a bit not. Good movie. And Logan which is a great movie. I love it so much.

TV: Superstore and Powerless are still funny,Superstore more so.

Read: Tenth of December: Stories by George Saunders began well and continued so. Love his writing - went on to CivilWarLan in Bad Decline, Pastoralia, and Fox 8 and loved them all. Writngs from Ancient Egypt translated by Toby Wilkinson, a fascinating collection. The three "Ernest Lamb" mysteries by Patricia Wentworth, although the third is hardly worthy of the name, as Lamb barely appears. Ernest Bramah's complete Max Carrados mysteries, entertaining still, though he stole his own escape scene from "The Missing Witness" and stuck it into "The Bravo of London" without alteration! R. Austin Freeman's "Romney Pringle" stories are not nearly so good; the title character is a colorless thief, a man who never has a stroke of bad luck or puts a foot wrong, and a jackass who thinks nothing of setting two countries on the brink of war by forging dispatches just so he can make a few thousand pounds (which, yes, was a lot of money back then). I don't care for them. "Cordially Invited to Meet Death" is a Nero Wolfe novella I don't think I've ever read before! Woohoo! New Wolfe! Magic for Nothing, the latest of Seanan McGuire's Incryptid series, and a very entertaining entry. Looking forward to the next one very much.

The far too long in Entertainment

Live: Il Barbiere di Seviglia at the Met. Great fun. Several band concerts and a chamber music concert. A play called "Outside Mulingar" at the Clarence Brown Theater in Knoxville, which I enjoyed a lot.

Film: Hidden Figures, a splendid movie that enrages as it entertains. TCM Classics Singing in the Rain and An Affair to Remember. Lion, I enjoyed it but it's not really Oscar material. La La Land, which also isn't (though it was fine). Moonlight, which IS. ISISISISIS. Wow. Raees, Shah Rukh Khan's latest. I quite enjoyed it, though it was a bit timid and lost some steam near the end. The Lego Batman Movie, which was a hoot.

TV: Sherlock season four which ... ugh. There were a few moments in the second ep, The Lying Detective, but the other two were very horrible and off-putting. If there's a series five I hope the implicit promise of that ending is kept: back to solving cases, boys of Baker Street, and leave the spies, mercenaries, twisted politics and psycho-thrillers alone. The Good Place ended with a real bang and twist and I can't wait for the next season. Also am still liking Superstore.

Read: The Dry, an excellent mystery set in Australia. The Bear and the Nightingale, a Russian-based fantasy that was splendid. Plaid and Plagiarism, a cozy that is the first of a series I won't be reading, since I didn't care for any of the characters. Wakulla Springs, a Hugo winner for reasons that escape me. Not that it's not good, because it really is, but it's not science fiction OR fantasy. Still, very good. All the Birds in the Sky, an odd, eccentric, excellent novel. Crossroads of Canopy, first in a trilogy that I'm looking forward to the rest of very much. Nnedi Okorafor's sequel to her prize winning novella, Binti: Home. Excellent. Dusk or Dark or Dawn or Day, Seanan McGuire's newest, and entertaining. Two by Kamila Shamsie, a Pakistani writer: Kartography and Broken Verses. They're explorations of family, very good and moving. Battle Hill Bolero, the very satisfying wrap-up to "Bone Street Rumba". Several of Paul McAuley's Jackaroo works (City of the Dead, Into Everywhere, Something Coming Through, Something Happened Here, But We're Not Quite Sure What); his world-building is superb. A lot of Charlie Jane Anders' short stuff; I love her!  Have started Tenth of December: Stories by George Saunders. Very good so far.

The Week in Entertainment

Film: Fences, which was excellent. Highly recommended. Denzel Washington and Viola Davis are brilliant. Rogue One again. Yesssss. Doctor Who: The Return of Dr Mysterio

TV:

Read: Finished The People of the Book, which I recommend. Lumberjanes vols 4 & 5 - I do love this comic.

The Week in Entertainment

Film: Manchester by the Sea, completely brilliant. Very melancholy, though. SING, which was entertaining.

TV: For some inexplicable reason I looked at Fuller House. Uh, no.

DVD: Some Christmas movies - How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Scrooge, Christmas in Connecticut, Mr Magoo's Christmas Carol.

Read: Almost finished The People of the Book, which I'm enjoying a lot.

A Christmas Story

Enjoy!

My Xmas Story

by Mark Evanier
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED 7/9/99
Comics Buyer's Guide

I want to tell you a story…

The scene is Farmers Market — the famed tourist mecca of Los Angeles. It's located but yards from the facility they call, "CBS Television City in Hollywood"…which, of course, is not in Hollywood but at least is very close.

Farmers Market is a quaint collection of bungalow stores, produce stalls and little stands where one can buy darn near anything edible one wishes to devour. You buy your pizza slice or sandwich or Chinese food or whatever at one of umpteen counters, then carry it on a tray to an open-air table for consumption.

During the Summer or on weekends, the place is full of families and tourists and Japanese tour groups. But this was a winter weekday, not long before Christmas, and the crowd was mostly older folks, dawdling over coffee and danish. For most of them, it's a good place to get a donut or a taco, to sit and read the paper.

For me, it's a good place to get out of the house and grab something to eat. I arrived, headed for my favorite barbecue stand and, en route, noticed that Mel Tormé was seated at one of the tables.

Mel Tormé. My favorite singer. Just sitting there, sipping a cup of coffee, munching on an English Muffin, reading The New York Times. Mel Tormé.

I had never met Mel Tormé. Alas, I still haven't and now I never will. He looked like he was engrossed in the paper that day so I didn't stop and say, "Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you how much I've enjoyed all your records." I wish I had.

Instead, I continued over to the BBQ place, got myself a chicken sandwich and settled down at a table to consume it. I was about halfway through when four Christmas carolers strolled by, singing "Let It Snow," a cappella.

They were young adults with strong, fine voices and they were all clad in splendid Victorian garb. The Market had hired them (I assume) to stroll about and sing for the diners — a little touch of the holidays.

"Let It Snow" concluded not far from me to polite applause from all within earshot. I waved the leader of the chorale over and directed his attention to Mr. Tormé, seated about twenty yards from me.

"That's Mel Tormé down there. Do you know who he is?"

The singer was about 25 so it didn't horrify me that he said, "No."

I asked, "Do you know 'The Christmas Song?'"

Again, a "No."

I said, "That's the one that starts, 'Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…'"

"Oh, yes," the caroler chirped. "Is that what it's called? 'The Christmas Song?'"

"That's the name," I explained. "And that man wrote it." The singer thanked me, returned to his group for a brief huddle…and then they strolled down towards Mel Tormé. I ditched the rest of my sandwich and followed, a few steps behind. As they reached their quarry, they began singing, "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…" directly to him.

A big smile formed on Mel Tormé's face — and it wasn't the only one around. Most of those sitting at nearby tables knew who he was and many seemed aware of the significance of singing that song to him. For those who didn't, there was a sudden flurry of whispers: "That's Mel Tormé…he wrote that…"

As the choir reached the last chorus or two of the song, Mel got to his feet and made a little gesture that meant, "Let me sing one chorus solo." The carolers — all still apparently unaware they were in the presence of one of the world's great singers — looked a bit uncomfortable. I'd bet at least a couple were thinking, "Oh, no…the little fat guy wants to sing."

But they stopped and the little fat guy started to sing…and, of course, out came this beautiful, melodic, perfectly-on-pitch voice. The look on the face of the singer I'd briefed was amazed at first…then properly impressed.

On Mr. Tormé's signal, they all joined in on the final lines: "Although it's been said, many times, many ways…Merry Christmas to you…" Big smiles all around.

And not just from them. I looked and at all the tables surrounding the impromptu performance, I saw huge grins of delight…which segued, as the song ended, into a huge burst of applause. The whole tune only lasted about two minutes but I doubt anyone who was there will ever forget it.

I have witnessed a number of thrilling "show business" moments — those incidents, far and few between, where all the little hairs on your epidermis snap to attention and tingle with joy. Usually, these occur on a screen or stage. I hadn't expected to experience one next to a falafel stand — but I did.

Tormé thanked the harmonizers for the serenade and one of the women said, "You really wrote that?"

He nodded. "A wonderful songwriter named Bob Wells and I wrote that…and, get this — we did it on the hottest day of the year in July. It was a way to cool down."

Then the gent I'd briefed said, "You know, you're not a bad singer." He actually said that to Mel Tormé.

Mel chuckled. He realized that these four young folks hadn't the velvet-foggiest notion who he was, above and beyond the fact that he'd worked on that classic carol. "Well," he said. "I've actually made a few records in my day…"

"Really?" the other man asked. "How many?"

Tormé smiled and said, "Ninety."

I probably own about half of them on vinyl and/or CD. For some reason, they sound better on vinyl. (My favorite was the album he made with Buddy Rich. Go ahead. Find me a better parlay of singer and drummer. I'll wait.)

Today, as I'm reading obits, I'm reminded of that moment. And I'm impressed to remember that Mel Tormé was also an accomplished author and actor. Mostly though, I'm recalling that pre-Christmas afternoon.

I love people who do something so well that you can't conceive of it being done better. Doesn't even have to be something important: Singing, dancing, plate-spinning, mooning your neighbor's cat, whatever. There is a certain beauty to doing almost anything to perfection.

No recording exists of that chorus that Mel Tormé sang for the other diners at Farmers Market but if you never believe another word I write, trust me on this. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

(Source credit: Mark Evanier

The Week in Entertainment

Film: Rogue One, which I loved and will see again. I'm not sure, but this may be the movie with the smallest amount of stuff in the trailers that I've ever seen. And White Christmas on the big screen at the Tennessee Theater. What a great way to start Christmas  week!

TV: I watched the first two seasons of Superstore. It's pretty funny. I did think it odd that the first episode of season two happened before the dramatic finale of season one, though. I also watched the little mini-series (Property) Brothers Take New Orleans.

Read: Finished Tea with the Black Dragon, which wasn't quite as good as I had remembered it being (without remembering hardly anything about it), and then read the sequel, Twisting the Rope, which wasn't quite as good. Am now reading People of the Book, which has a really good beginning, anyway.

The Week in Entertainment

Dang. I thought I had set this to autopublish, but no.

Live: The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway. Wonderful cast! Great production.

Film: Spirited Away in its Fathom Events tour. I love this movie sooooo much,, and it's spectacular on the big screen. Loving, such a good movie, so well acted.

TV: Started watching Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency. It's weird but I'm going to keep at it.

Read: Finished Moonglow, which was excellent all the way through. The Great American Whatever, a fine YA, very moving, and Five, Six, Seven, Nate, a worthy sequel to the first one. Started rereading Tea with the Black Dragon, which was mentioned in the Tor newsletter and which I had read when it first came out back ... woof, 33 years ago now, and which I therefore barely remember.

The Week in Entertainment

Live: A brilliantly done Christmas Carol at Clarence Brown, and an entertaining 1940s Radio Show at the Oak Ridge Playhouse.

DVD: More of Stargate SG-1. The 1954 Sherlock Holmes series with Ronald Howard and H. Marion Crawford, which was quite entertaining.

TV: The Librarians, a good episode.

Read: Began White Rage, which is not going to be a quick read, it's so enraging (no pun intended). Michael Chabon's newest, Moonglow, truly excellent.

The Week in Entertainment

Film: The animated restoration of Patrick Troughton's first Doctor Who: The Power of the Daleks. I enjoyed it - the animation was a bit middling, but that's pretty much fitting for 1960s Who. The (British) National Theater's encore broadcast of Hamlet with Benedict Cumberbatch in the title role. The staging was ... a bit odd, let's say, and I wasn't especially fond of the Horatio, but the other roles were solid, especially Guildenstern. And Claudius! I was thinking during the intermission how very good he was, matching Cumberbatch head on. And then the credits rolled. Ciarán Hinds. No wonder. A Man Called Ove - a wonderful, emotional film, with excellent performances; faithful to the book though they had to leave a lot of the details out. Read and watch them both! Also Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which was very enjoyable. And Arrival, which was very good even though they made a number of changes to the story (Ted Chiang's "The Story of Your Life"), some incomprehensible and some probable needed by the changed medium.

DVD: Started rewatching Stargate SG-1.

TV: The Librarians at last. I do wonder how the Australian guy knows "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" so well, though. Some Leverage, but now they're into the Tara episodes, bleagh. Stargate which sent me to the DVDs.

Read: A Man Called Ove - what a brilliant book. I've already picked up Fredrik  Backman's other books (the translator is Henning Koch) and read My Grandmother Asked Me to Tell You She’s Sorry, and Britt-Marie Was Here, both very good.

The Week in Entertainment

Live: Guillaume Tell at the Met - splendid singing, bizarre, even risible, staging. Kristen Chenoweth's My Love Letter to Broadway. I love her, and this was wonderful.

Read: The Silent Sister and Pretending to Dance by Diane Chamberlain, both of which I enjoyed very much. Witches of Lychford and The Lost Child of Lychford by Paul Cornell, ditto. Genrenauts, the complete Season One, which I think I had started earlier but can find no notes of (it was published episodically). Anyway, I did enjoy it a lot.