The Good and Evil Twins. Also, Rotisserie.

Now my brother is furious with me.

Ages ago he gave us a massive rotisserie thing for roasting chickens. We had nowhere to put it in the kitchen so it sat in the hall for ages. However, the local D&D shop is also a warm hub, providing meals for folk who can't afford food, so we donated it there. I thought this would please him.

Apparently not. He asked me what had happened to it last night, and like a fool, I told him. He is furious and thinks we should have given it back to him, he said he thought it was a fine gift. It was indeed a fine gift but we had nowhere to put it and I told him this at the time. He laughed.

After all, we do have an oven so why would we need a rotisserie?

Ugh. Stop.

OK, so the twins must have their moment. Here comes the Good Twin:

I couldn't use it, it was sitting in the hallway. You love D&D, you want to help poor people. Doesn't this fit both? It wasn't a rejection of the present, it was a way of using it with love, as opposed to keeping it unused. I didn't mean to hurt you, I meant to honour you, honestly. Or I could just have dumped it in the garage. I'm genuinely sorry, I thought you would love this.

Now comes the Evil Twin;

Right, now listen to me. I have cancer, I have just gone through a choking accident which was serious enough and repeated enough that the paramedics want me to check with my GP for potential cancer of the thyroid. My husband has just been in a car accident which could have killed him, these latter two incidents happened in the last week, we are both in shock, I am long term ill, long term stressed, even the medication that's killing the cancer has rotten side effects, I am in pain /discomfort including brain fog a lot of the time, so please do not come banging on to me about a gift you haven't thought of in years. It's like you are looking for something to be angry at. I cannot carry your fury at the world translated into fury at me, I didn't do a damn thing wrong, in fact I was trying to do something you would like, but nothing works when you want to be angry. Fine, be angry. Whatever. But do not come into my life with your unreasoning umbrage and endless offence at things I can never guess in advance. I never have a clue, all I have is good intention. You have what you want, which is to be angry at me again for nothing again. Right, off you fcking go. You can't help what's happening to me, but don't make it worse. Poor Donkey Body is carrying a lot, she can't carry you too. She cannot do it. I cannot do it.

I am such an idiot, I should just have said the bloody thing broke.

Donald and Desire

Donald Sutherland introduced me to desire.

He was not my first crush, but watching him in Klute was the first time I really got that sense of hunger. I like my men hungry but not needy-creepy. I remember him looking like this:

https://www.reddit.com/r/Moviesinthemaking/comments/1dkhfv7/donald_sutherland_sits_for_his_portrait_on/#lightbox

He was no beauty, but he had presence. Those hands! He used them tenderly in the film. I didn't really notice any other evident feature of his body though now it seems impossible to miss. I was a girl-woman when I first saw this film, I knew nothing about sex except local boys and men trying it on and being too gross to allow anywhere near me. Heart throbs like Donny Osmond and David Cassidy were the dream princes of my time; they didn't attract me at all. My first crush was on a hanging mobile of that famous Che Guevara graphic, completely dashed by seeing a proper photo of him and reading his utterly dull diaries. I had a thing for Mr Spock, but we were always going to have adventures together and maybe we could kiss, my thoughts never went further because I was pretty vague on what happened next. When I saw Donald Sutherland in Klute, I knew exactly what I wanted to happen next.

The next time I saw him was in Don't Look Now. By then I had been subjected to the lucifer-like beauty of Al Pacino as Michael Corleone, and Sutherlands's charismatic ugly man appeal had lost some of that magnetic power. Also, his hair and moustache were just unfeasible. The whole did they didn't they moment with Julie Christie was beside the point; yes, they are sexy and beautiful together. But that weird animal thing for the man was gone. I was curious but not caught. Besides, I was too wrapped up in the story; this was Venice and it would haunt me, the ending would terrify me for years. I was annoyed with poor John Baxter who was getting such obvious warnings. Nothing turns me off like stupid; why not just leave Venice quickly? Who would stay and why? I was captivated, but the story had overtaken the man. And after that, throughout so many films, I would note him, enjoy his performance, though never again did he reach out and grab me through the screen. Just as well really.

RIP Donald Sutherland, superlative actor. Thank you for your great gifts, and for bringing so much.