Sex And the City – Strike Three


The Movie?  One word: Disappointment.  For one who’s flattered when referred to as “Teri Bradshaw” (the hair, the writing, the love of NY), it was a sad day. I’ll spare the analysis, as my sentiments fall in line with the NY Times review.  

The primer was dinner at Black Bottle, a favorite spot, where I ordered a glass of MacMurray Ranch Sonoma Coast 2006 Pinot Noir.  It tasted like…a pinot, really (and, understand, I do LOVE pinot) – full of cherry and covering all the berries:  Rasp, Blue and Black with sturdy tannins, blah blah blah.   And though, it was far better then the film, in the end, it was… but another pinot.  Strike Two (but just kinda).

Turning to the conversation…. we were discussing the Father of the Bride toast, that my friend’s dad was going to deliver at her sister’s wedding in a few weeks.  It went something like – “Joanna is like a potato in a field.  And once you pick up one, there are many more intertwined together and we must support all those potatoes…” Any questions?  Strike Three.

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