Wednesday, September 21, 2022
This fabulous shopfront down in Waterloo used to be a restaurant. Unfortunately, it's closed now. It may have been a casualty of the pandemic, or perhaps it just wasn't all that great. The Evening Standard didn't think much of it, describing it as "deafening," decorated with a "splodgy mural" and serving pork and duck "overcooked to a tightness and toughness that makes them more or less inedible." Ouch!
Why was I down in Waterloo to take in the gigantic scrawled sign and naked trompe l'oeil caryatids of this facade? Well, I treated myself to a little outing last night. Helen Hunt (from TV's "Mad About You" and the movie "As Good As It Gets") is appearing onstage at the Old Vic in a play called "Eureka Day," and I went to see it. (I asked Dave last week and he was not interested, so I bought myself a single ticket. Some people feel weird about going to the theater alone but I used to do it all the time in New York so it doesn't bother me in the least.)
It was an excellent play, about a privileged, progressive private school in California that's struck with an epidemic of mumps. That triggers a battle between parents, some of whom are suspicious of vaccinations. It's a fascinating look at the divisions in society and how well-meaning people deal with intractable problems. Funny, but with dramatic moments. (And of course it reminded me a lot of the school where I work, though we haven't faced an anti-vaxx crisis as far as I know. I don't even know what our vaccination requirements are.)
I had some time to kill before the play, so I had a soup and sandwich at Pret and then found a pub tucked into the arches beneath a railway bridge. I had a pint at an outdoor table where I read a profile in The New Yorker of scary U.S. Supreme Court justice Samuel Alito, who seems determined to turn the country into a theocracy. I was ready for some laughs after that.
I'm worried this morning because Olga is due to get her incisors removed today. I'm taking her to the vet at 8:30 a.m. There's a very small chance the x-rays will show that infection in her mouth has another source, and in that case perhaps they can save the teeth -- which would be ideal, except that we'd then have to deal with whatever is causing the infection. But I think it's virtually certain the teeth will have to go, and I worry about how that will affect her Kong-playing, not to mention her eating. No matter what, Olga is not going to be a very happy dog tonight. (She should be able to come home this evening, though, so at least she'll be here with us.)