Mother Goose was desperately in need of some Motrin after our emotional time at La Creperie and the consumption of perhaps a little too much Seven Hills Pinot Gris, a lovely Oregonian wine. The official wine-maker notes say this:
“This single-vineyard Pinot Gris is light straw-gold in color with aromas of ripe citrus, spearmint, pear and fresh hazelnut. There’s an enticing streak of vanillin from the oak. The wine is dry, but has a bright, sweet citrus palate made more interesting by a hint of spearmint by mouth. The finish is clean, brisk and fruitful. Made with 100% Pinot Gris.
Pinot Gris is a delightful match with seafood and a variety of lighter dishes. It also makes a great pre-dinner glass of white wine.”
I would completely and whole-heartedly agree with the wine-maker and her notes! Unfortunately, Mother Goose was suffering from a slight headache at the completion of her delightful match up with Seven Hills…
After we had appropriately medicated Mother Goose, it was off to the Landmark Century theater to see “Blue Jasmine”, the latest movie from the wonderfully entertaining mind of Woody Allen.
I thoroughly enjoyed the first fifteen minutes of this chick flick — Ms Blanchett was acting brilliantly! She was genius in motion, and Alec Baldwin was superbly slimy.
And then the eyes of Mother Goose suddenly slammed shut.
Again, let’s put the blame on the Seven Hills…
I awoke just in time to enjoy the last fifteen minutes of the film — confused about what may have happened during the middle sixty minutes of the movie but certainly happy with how it all ended…
Making our way out of the theater through a maze of ramps and escalators all going up instead of the necessary down, we attempted to discuss the merits and drawbacks of the film. Husband Goose had some very astute observations concerning the parallels between this story and “A Streetcar Named Desire” by Tennesee Williams. He was in the glorious midst of poignantly comparing “Jasmine” with the ever-beautiful yet ever-fading Blanche duBois.
Mother Goose had some difficulty with this conversation as she was pondering the merits and drawbacks of a theater from which there was no easy escape…and not a single unlocked ladies’ room.
Finally deciding to ignore the urgent pleas of her bladder, Mother Goose conceded that perhaps she could wait until they got home which really shouldn’t take too long as they were parked so very close to the theater. Walking briskly along and admiring the night lights of the city, Mother Goose and Husband Goose reached the car.
At this point, I felt it was appropriate to interrupt Husband Goose who was still verbally dissecting the movie which for the most part had remained unviewed by one Mother Goose:
“Your car has been booted.”
You won’t want to miss the INCREDIBLE conclusion to this strange date night. The tired old phrase “gone awry” just barely describes the evening…