The bride wore . . .

Well, in my opinion, brides should always have biceps. It just looks better. A little muscle tone isn't too much to ask... Weekend of wedding and birthday parties and some stealth virus that keeps giving people spiky fevers. Yesterday was a lie-on-the-floor-and-finally-watch-the-end-of-Harry-Potter day, so that's what we did. Not enough caffeine in the house and no energy to go out and get some. Scanned in some old postcards for some eventual project or other, and called it a day. Watched "Hell is for Heroes" on AMC, it was really still as good as I remembered, and enough years have gone by that I can see Fess Parker as someone other than Daniel Boone (I know, he was Davy Crockett first, but that was just barely before my time). Steve McQueen and James Coburn were great, and Bob Newhart was the comic relief. They actually had him doing one of his telephone routines, and it fit into the movie, which is amazing. Night before we had watched Caddyshack on DVD; it was somewhat above our intellectual capacity after having hosted a 6-year-old's birthday party at the pool, but we tried to follow the complications and plot twists. Hadn't seen it unedited (read: unruined) in years, so it was a treat. Even snuck in a paddle on the Hudson on Friday morning. Cool, quiet, gloomy . . . perfect paddling weather, and not a single asshole jetski around. Asshole Jetski would be a good name for a band.