Me and Kitty

went to the movies the other nite for the first time in a while. She wanted to see "Million Dollar Baby" and since Clint Eastwood is my main man, it was a match made in heaven.

What a movie. Hillary Swank gave a marvelous performance as the neophyte woman boxer. I was inspired by her dedication, which made me "want to get my ship together."

Morgan Freeman was excellent, as usual. And so was my main man, Clint "Dirty Harry" Eastwood. Who directed the film as well. What a talented guy, eh?

And wouldn't it be nice if he reprised his role as the S.F. cop who rids the streets of scumbags and vermin. But with advancing age the dialogue would certainly be something like "I can't remember if I ate 5 prunes or six. A prune is the most powerful laxative in the world. Blow a man's insides clean out. Are you feeling lucky punk? Well are you?"

But, alas, it will probably never be.

Me and Kitty enjoyed the movie. Well, sort of. Seems the ending is quite the tearjerker. And Kitty cried and cried and cried. Claiming she never wanted to see a sad movie again. But we always enjoy the refreshments. We bought 2 $4.00 cokes ( diet and regular ) and shared a big tub of buttered popcorn, which was refillable the day of the show.

And we waded through the obligatory previews. And we always ask each other thumbs up or down for the upcoming flick.

We drove home, Kitty's head resting on my shoulder as I tried to navigate old Betsy home.

We are going to another show tomorrow and Kitty has decided on a romantic comedy with Drew Barrymore and Jimmy fallon. No more sad movies for Kitty.

"Million Dollar Baby" was inspiring but very sad. The 50's endings where "they live happily ever after" are not in vogue in 2005. Oh well-it's all show biz.

Farewell and adieu, v.c.