Macapuno and a Duck

Plot received a story today from his Holiday Correspondent D. Conrad ("Con") Achy today. He will take it to tonight's TIAPOS meeting. It's called "We Didn't Want to Come East for Christmas." After the group does its thing he'll post D. Con Achy's story tomorrow. Maybe a hankie or two?

Yesterday the Duck had some minor oral surgery and expected to feel horrible last night, so as she and Plottie waited for Walgreens to fill the prescription for amoxycillin they decided she would need macapuno ice cream, and a half gallon would be about right. After dinner, topped by a nice mountain of macapuno, Plot and Duck settled on the sofa to finally watch "Midnight in Paris."

Nice, nice, nice, especially the part about how everybody's fantasy is populated by people whose own fantasy is of somewhere else. Owen Wilson dreams of Paris of the 1920s. He meets Picasso's mistress whose fantasy is of the Belle Epoque -- Paris in the 1890s. They go there and meet Latrec whose fantasy is of the Renaissance. Perfect, so perfect.

Plottie always laughs when he realizes every artist (and film maker) has the same nightmare -- in this case the woman with the wealthy parents who hate the daughter's worthless prospective husband. The would-be-wife always wants the artist to abandon his dream and go sell shoes.

There were times in Plottie's past when this movie probably would have propelled him into a funk about why he didn't get to live on 52nd Street in 1945. No longer. He knows, now, that it doesn't matter where you live, as long as you have macapuno and a Duck.

PS: She's feeling fine. This Macapuno Endorsement has been approved by the Plotniks.