Dipping my toe in nostalgia

Watching TV is something I have really drawn back from---probably because of the violence, and definitely because books, which have no remote controls, are much easier to enjoy.

That changes when Dave is away, as he is right now, barrelling through Canada in a truck on his way to Calgary with my brother Doug.  I still don't watch much, but I do watch late at night, and yes, Dave, that's all about you.

Last night, I happened upon Jesus Christ, Superstar.  

When I was a young person, it never occurred to me that I couldn't do something in the arts field, so I agreed to direct a student production of that musical.  I loved the concept---the humanization of the biblical characters, the songs, the what-I-thought-was-bold rendering of a story I knew so well.  It was OK, and the kids who worked on it had a great experience pre and post-production.  Choreography for people in long robes and beards was a chore though.

The first time I saw the movie, I was so moved, so excited and so into it that I actually hoped Jesus would be saved from the crucifixion.  This time, it seemed out-of-key, overdone and very preachy, but I still was won by the time it was over.    Also, somehow, I'd forgotten about Ted Neeley.

And I wonder why my grandkids don't think Shirley Temple is even remotely cute.