Movie night is a Friday night extravaganza.

Charlie and Sharon host.

We watch what Hollywood has cooked up to modify our behavior, influence our thinking process, stir up emotions, entertain, inflame, or put us to sleep.

Dessert tonight is strawberry shortcake that brings back memories of a strawberry farm inside the Los Angeles city limits and strawberries in my Dad’s garden. 

This evening we watch Spenser Tracy in ” Bad Day at Black Rock. ” The first movie we put on just wasn’t as good as Charlie remembered it to be.

It is an eerie feeling watching movies where everyone in it, and everyone who made it, are ghosts.

Seeing things that happened, but are no longer there, is almost the same as reading Scotttreks moments.

Is a remembered moment better than the real thing?


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