move on

It has been said that during the Black Death whenever there was a large gap between letters of frequent correspondents, the worst was assumed.

Should any of you have been so bold as to assume last Friday's essay was the last of Mexpatriate, fret (or hope) no more. I have not yet been demoted to the ranks of Dead-White-Male.

My absence from the keyboard did involve my health, but not what you are thinking -- or what I briefly thought myself. According to my doctor, it was a bout of "food poisoning" -- meaning that I had picked up a virus, bacteria, or parasite that had taken up residence in something I ate.

But almost everything is back in working order now. And I am glad for it. Yesterday the Mexican federal government performed one of those policy u-turns that strain necks more than credulity. Everyone has been asked to home-shelter for the next 30 days.

Because my stomach affliction kept me in bed over the weekend, I felt as if I had been in rehearsal for what I will continue doing -- staying mostly at home.

That means I am now back to finding something worthwhile to do. My new-found addiction to watching SNL "Weekend Update" re-runs on YouTube does not come close to meeting the "worthwhile" criterion.

My former work colleague Carl Wilson posted a list of "Five movies I never tire of (at least the five I have likely watched most often)." He then invited the rest of us to post ours.

I did not submit one for the same reason that I do not find the on-line tests to pick a presidential candidate very satisfying. By the time, I am half-way through the process, I start changing my mind about my earlier answers.

I suppose that is nothing more than a variant that all taste is subjective -- except that argument disintegrates with only a few questions, as Roger Scruton has proven. Instead, I tend to find what is beatutiful in each movie I watch.

That is all prelude to my next Project of Distraction. I plan on watching each of the movies in my collection that was awarded an Oscar for Best Picture. There are 29 of them -- from 1938 to 2019. That should keep me away from the Devil's Playground for the next 30 days.

1938 -- Gone With the Wind

1942 -- Casablanca

1950 -- All About Eve

1959 -- Ben-Hur

1961 -- West Side Story

1962 -- Lawrence of Arabia

1964 -- My Fair Lady

1965 -- The Sound of Music

1966 -- A Man for All Seasons

1970 -- Patton

1972 -- The Godfather

1974 -- The Godfather II

1976 -- Annie Hall

1982 -- Gandhi

1984 -- Amadeus

1987 -- The Last Emperor

1991 -- The Silence of the Lambs

1993 -- Schindler's List

1994 -- Forrest Gump

1995 -- Braveheart

1997 -- Titanic

1998 -- Shakespeare in Love

2002 -- Chicago

2003 -- Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

2004 -- Gladiator

2010 -- The King's Speech

2011 -- The Artist

2014 -- Birdman

2019 -- Parasite

In truth, I have already begun the Festival of So-called Best Pictures. Before I fell to my intestinal infection, I watched Gone With the Wind and Casablanca. I have never been a fan of the Margaret Mitchell work. It is simply filled with enough cringe moments that I doubt I will watch it again. Casablanca has aged far better.   

There are some movies on the list that I would rank among my top 100. There are others that I do my best to find some redeeming social value. Interestingly, the movies I most enjoy are not on that list -- with the possible exceptions of All About Eve and Shakespeare in Love.

If nothing else, I will re-acquaint myself with some artists who are master craftsmen.

And I can think of nothing simpler to keep the correspondence flowing during this "plague."


Note: No discussion of Casablanca would be complete without a clip of my favorite scene.