Of Aliens and Bosoms

I took a walk early yesterday morning, before it got hot, up through Cricklewood and back again. I was surprised to find this huge plastic (fiberglass?) pachyderm standing outside the Crown hotel. Why, I have no idea. Made a good picture, though.

I also came across this flat on Fortune Green Road. Is this World Cup enthusiasm, or an attempt to keep the sun out of his/her windows? Could be both, I suppose. An interesting mix of countries, there.

I was really glad to get the walking out of the way early, when the temperatures were comfortable, and in fact I hope to do the same this morning. It felt good to catch up on my podcasts and get some exercise.

Ultimately the temperatures got to about 94º F (or 34º C) in our immediate neighborhood, I think. It got hotter elsewhere. That was supposed to be the worst of our "heat dome" experience -- today is expected to be slightly less extreme, if not exactly cool.

Thinking we'd beat the heat, Dave and I went to the cinema. (That's him contemplating Helena Bonham Carter's décolletage, above.) We walked to Hampstead and popped into the Everyman Cinema to see "Disclosure Day." We stepped into the blessedly cool lobby and were certain we'd made a wise decision -- until we learned that the air conditioner in the main cinema wasn't working! While the rest of the building was cool, the air conditioner for screen one -- a big room with a balcony -- was overwhelmed, the manager said. She'd even called an engineer, who said although the machine was functioning, the unit on the roof, in the sun, was registering a temperature of 143º F (or 61º C) and the refrigerant was unable to flow at that temperature -- or something like that.

Anyway, Dave and I debated what to do. The manager told us that the balcony, weirdly, might be slightly cooler than the seats on the floor. Another couple who came in with us decided to leave and get a refund, but we stuck it out and indeed we were fine. It was warm by air-conditioned standards, but certainly cooler than our house at home, and a couple of Aperol spritzes made the whole situation seem like an adventure.

And the movie was good! I really enjoyed it. The performances were terrific and the story, about the revelation that the U.S. government knew of past alien visitation to Earth, was engrossing. Steven Spielberg strikes again.

Here's a detail of the pattern on the Thai batik "tablecloth" I showed you yesterday. It is indeed from Pataya, as YP correctly guessed, though it's spelled "Phataya" on the cloth. Tomato, tomahto.

I see that author and fashion journalist Shirley Lord has died. Spy magazine, in the 1980s, insisted on repeatedly calling her "bosomy dirty book writer Shirley Lord," which I always found hilarious. (At the time she was married to Abe Rosenthal, the executive editor of The New York Times, so it was yet another way for Spy to give the finger to the establishment.) Spy is also responsible for tagging Donald Trump as a "short-fingered vulgarian," a nickname that became a similarly long-running joke. I was surprised the Times didn't mention the Spy joke in Lord's obituary, actually, given how famous it was (and the fact that a lot of people, like me, know her primarily because of that joke). But I suppose the editors thought it would be too mean.