Simplify, simplify!

"Although Gene was white there was something of the wise and tired old Negro in him, and something very much like Elmer Hassel, the New York dope addict, in him, but a railroad Hassel, a traveling epic Hassel, crossing and recrossing the country every year, south in the winter and north in the summer, and only because he had no place he could stay in without getting tired of it and because there was nowhere to go but everywhere, keep rolling under the stars, generally the Western stars"--On the Road

Hayley Mills (smoking on a train): "I'm not a child, lady, I'm a midget with a bad habit"--The Trouble With Angels.

These days I'm trying to have a shakeout of things like Meetups I never go to and activists who send me emails but I can't sign their petitions because I don't have a U.S. zipcode.  And I've stopped playing the online game Island Experiment.  And just the other day I reached the maximum number of Tweeters you can follow (5000), so now I'm going through the list and removing the ones I know I'm not interested in.

Yesterday afternoon I saw Ida Lupino's The Trouble With Angels (for the third time, but the first time since I was a kid), with Dawna and Debi.  That's the one with Hayley Mills as a mischievous girl in a Catholic school run by nuns. (She reminded me of Claire in Six Feet Under.) Of course, it gets soft in the last half hour and she ends up entering the order. For me it's something of a guilty pleasure. 

On the Road is a pretty fun read, if not so profound as yet.

The cool autumn weather has arrived.  It's time to dig up the potatoes.