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Sometimes the choices we have aren’t life-altering. They’re just options, like “regular”or “decaf”. Tonight I just can’t force myself to watch another baseball game, even if it is my beloved Yankees playing the wild card play-in game. So I’m watching a Russian language World War II movie. I studied Russian in high school fifty years ago. I can still, sorta, kinda read the Cyrillic alphabet. There are no subtitles and the acting and the visual images have to get the story across. But I’ve watched dumber stuff with keener  interest, e.g. porn. 

Russia is a fascinating place.  The art, architecture, the music, the Russian Orthodox practice of Christianity, I would love to go there.  

#2 Son texted about a deep fat fryer to make donuts the next time we get together. I am all in for that. Maybe I can talk him into beignets.  I don’t have a deep fat fryer, but I would buy one if it means I get to see my son. 

 Back at the movie, It’s 22 June 1941 and, unbeknownst to the characters, the Germans are about to attack. As Gomer Pyle used to say, “Surprise! Surprise!”

This particular film centers around women soldiers serving as antiaircraft gunners, a job many female troops had in the Red Army.  It is a visually interesting film, particularly with the nude scene in the Russian bath, and the accompanying striking with the birch branches. If this movie is to be believed, there were NO ugly women in the Red Army. Who knew? 

Meanwhile, I now own a Kindle©. The challenge is to get it registered since it was a gift and I need my Amazon password to register it, a password I have, of course, forgotten. So Jeff Beezos’s minions are getting back to me on that.

Whilst writing this entry, #2 son called. He further elaborated on his food plans. They are as amorphous over the phone as they were in the text. He has this idea to fix deep-fried sushi, the preferred sushi of Sumo wrestlers? Somebody out there makes it. ” Here in America, we call that fish sticks, Son.” I felt like saying.