007

I sat here all weekend piddling about and even (part Irish that I am) spent St. Patrick's alone, both son and husband out of town. I went up to rent Casino Royale with the lovely Daniel Craig. I like him for his intellect. No one will every replace Sean Connery whom I first saw in the sixth grade in Goldfinger at a local theater. (At the time, I forgot to eat my popcorn.) However, Craig is the next best alternative. The local Blockbuster was out of the movie, but knowing that my son, David, almost 20, liked the film, I went ahead and bought it. He and his girlfriend see all the movies at the theater; I wait until they emerge on video.

I watched it with a glass of wine or two and when he came home the next day gave it to him as a house warming gift (one of many I'm sure) for his new apartment. He graciously asked me if I wanted to watch it with him, but I declined having watched it the night before.

"Do call me on those pivotal scenes where 007 isn't wearing a shirt though," I said.

He gave me a pitying look and closed the door. Oh well.