I am sorry for this tardy review of a movie a year old, but what I saw has my brain locked in a fit of obsession. It is driving me crazy. I know of no way to break it without confession. I must save myself.
I am a midterm baby boomer, and as such I spend too much time thinking about health care, mostly about how much it costs. As a baby boomer I have grown and aged in a kind of charmed bubble, where nearly everyone was my age or close to it, and we were all thinking about the same things. It seemed that way, anyway. Shared topics followed the typical life progression, I think, starting somewhere around 1975 — sex, college, stereo, job, spouse, house, mortgage, children, school, college, debt, 401(k), keep ...
I have many personal failings I’d rather not discuss at the moment, but I will admit to something rather shocking. I like gluten. I eat gluten regularly and enjoy it. Not only that, I admire gluten for its role in the development of civilization, for its miraculous qualities that allow a paste of powdered grain and water to stretch like a rubber band, blow up like a balloon, to multiply in volume and feed the masses their daily bread.
They make notes in some cubbies of the English press, that Americans are oblivious and quite possibly stupid when presented the possibility of the end of Great Britain. When Britons note some of the economic and political ramifications that surely will be felt on this side of the Atlantic should Scotland choose independence, Americans say “Golly. Wow” and then return head to sand. We don’t believe Scottish fantasies come true.