UNDER THE SAME MOON-God Bless Us One And All
Today was one of those surreal Washington evenings. I walked down Pennsylvania Avenue past Scagarella, the bent old woman tending to the garden of Saint Stephens who fancies herself the church basement housewife of the much younger Monsignor with special garden tools. One might think this charitably endearing-- except that she's an old evil- eyed bitch whom I imagine injects her younger rivals with cancer inducing drugs as a night nurse at GW hospital.
I was treated to a movie in Georgetown which I highly recommend people seeing- UNDER THE SAME MOON. If you didn't get why it was a serious policy consideration that illegals in LA should get drivers' licenses, just watch the young attractive illegal Mexican mother take three buses to get to her cleaning job from East LA to Westwood. Then you will forgive Hillary. The movie depicted beautifully the struggle of a young boy, nine years of age to find his mother from a small Mexican village to East LA via Arizona. It was beautifully written. It was beautifully real. It's really about the love bond between a mother and son. It has comic turns, and touching turns. Everyone should see it. I cried a few times. So did that big softie John Hanshaw (founder of The Guerilla Film Festival in DC).
After the film, a reception underwritten by the producer and Washingon Life magazine
with fabulously faux empenadas, fried gummy balled things and the obligatory cheese platters took place next door. The scene there was a combination of the brilliantly significant but obscure mingling with people who looked like they wanted to audition for Vanna White's replacement when the Price is Right is next shot in Bethesda.
The place read like a Who's Who of up- and- comers and wannabees looking for up- and- comers to cozy up to. John Hanshaw, who is a bona fide up-and- came-already, and often referenced as Washington's most eligible bachelor (yes, John, you are pictured on page 73 of Washington Life but they spelled your name wrong) was as usual surrounded by a bevy of Latin and Iranian beauties batting coy eyelashes and angling to get closer. He was my first husband (I jest of course)
Carter's National Security Advisor Zbignew's son was inconspicuously there talking about how his family has known "Madeleine" (as in Albright) for decades- an International lawyer at a DC Firm, with his date who works press for John Kerry- looking Fab. in her Parisian flee market
drop dead georgeous drop black onyz earings. I thumbed through Washington Life while sipping the house Red. Speaking of Kerry, I just noticed that the Holy Face picture of Jesus (look to the side) looks a little like Kerry in Drag, and I will go to confession for that tomorrow.
Washington Life Page. 102 has the chic spring wedding fashion. What? I can't look!
I couldn't help but notice that there we were, Zbignew's son, the ever youthful incredibly brilliant John Hanshaw, the Washington Life editors, the producers of Under the Same Moon- all there under the same moon.
And Scagarella was hopefully safely tucked in her own house somewhere in East Butt-Bump Jibip suburban Virginia fantasizing alone about the Monsignor until the next "pilgrimmage."
I tell myself I don't want that georgeous white gold and diamond bracelet on page. 103 that says "Oui". Yes, I do. No, I don't. Yes, I do.....
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