Rerun

Since I'm about to tell you a thing you've heard from me before, I may as well tell you two:

I got my hair cut yesterday. Phew! First time in a new town, it was a nervy undertaking. It's important to choose a cutter carefully as it can be a traumatic experience for them, for me, and my hair. It has often taken my hair months to recover, whereas I, with a few cups of tea get back on my feet in a week or two. How the scissor-wielding fiend manages, I've never investigated, but I assume they get back in the saddle right quick and carry on.

I'm quite new to small town living (army bases are also small, but totally different) and have never been to a typical small town salon. It was great fun from an outsider/anthropological perspective: women popped in to chat; all the clientele knew each other and traded neighbourly gossip (they talked about real people, not reality tv or celebrities); each had their own 'the usual' which the stylists were familiar with - obviously long-time, loyal customers; several women sat in various stages of their beauty process, quite happy to wait their turn, enjoying this time out to be with other women.

The cut seems to be ok, so far. The real test is when I wash and wear it for myself. Will I be able to make it behave for me, or will it be bossy and unmanageable? The final exam will come in a month's time when it's grown out a little. We'll see.

Anyway, the second thing you've heard from me before is that I am practicing procrastination. I've gotten quite adept at it - a result of the diligence with which I practice it. Once again, I have an assignment due... ummm, today in fact. It's a grey, rainy day today so I can't be tempted by sun and bird song to escape this desk and the interview I have to transform into a 1,000 word personality profile, so instead, I am shamelessly using you, my dear Reader, as the reason why I can't work on my work right this minute. I'm sorry for it, particularly as I really have nothing worthwhile to say. I have devolved into someone who blathers on and on about the inconsequential.

I will say, however, that I just finished reading the screenplay for Good Will Hunting, which is one of my favourite movies. Movies are (or can be) a very powerful medium for telling a story. They can provide a lush landscape, actualize a sumptuous location, bring tantalizing characters to life through the talents of fine actors, accentuate the emotional journey with a sensitively chosen soundtrack... but it still is built on the words set down on a bare page by a writer (or five or six). A good script denuded of all the trappings of a moving picture still contains the essence of the story. Much has been made of the fact that Matt Damon and Ben Affleck were mere babies when they wrote this script (and while they have since gone on to movie stardom as actors, have not yet produced another such screenplay) which is only right. There is such depth and honesty in this story of Will Hunting, the arc of his character development rings true, the importance placed on forgiveness and receiving a father's blessing provides an emotional climax, not to mention the vast array of knowledge Will exhibits which they had to work realistically into the script. It's a masterpiece, and certainly worthy of the Oscar it won more than a decade ago.