Literally.
Work sent me to Coney Island and Sheepshead Bay to work on a few stories yesterday. I suppose it’s a bit strange that I grew up in New York but had never been to Coney Island until yesterday! What a colorfully fun place. Full of old-school New York gritty charm that is hard to find these days.
But as a result of that unanticipated trip and hours spent under the rarely-seen New York sun, I am so red right now. Burned, in a bit of pain at the bridge of the nose. Worth it, though.
Then went with some friends to see My Sister’s Keeper. It was a real tear-jerker, but not artfully told. The actors seemed to have integrity, but the movie could have been much shorter and packed more of a punch. What bothered me most, though, was the ease with which the family dealt with seemingly toxic outbursts. Dramatic conflicts seemed to magically fade, unresolved. Uncomfortable relationships disappeared when the plot needed them to for convenience’s sake.
Meanwhile, the newsroom is all Jackson, all the time.
Talk of the Town