Pleasantest Isn't A Word

[Pleasantest part of a pleasant weekend: a picnic lunch yesterday in my namesake Huntington Park with that guy I live with. Lots of pasty San Franciscan bodies getting their first UV, ham and cheese on rye, marinated mushrooms, and giggles with t.g.I.l.w.]

[Huntington Park, for you who can't enough of my San Francisco tidbits, is that square of green atop Nob Hill, placed strategically between luxurious spirit (Grace Cathedral) and filthy lucre (the Pacific Union Club). Fans of Tales of the City (check out Maupin's new site) will recognize the area from the second book and miniseries as the "mountain of the Flood, at the meeting of the lines" where they uncovered the Cathedral Cannibal Cult.]

[Natural segue into last night first episode of the new Tales miniseries. I can see why the reviews were only lukewarm: there's a bit of a going-thru-the-motions feel to the production. Of course I'm watching and taping every second, but I can tell I'm not going to be bowled over.]

[I'm loving some of Laura Linney's proto-yuppie suits and hairdos, though. Very reminiscent of Catherine Hicks in the horrendous 1981 remake of The Valley of the Dolls, which John and I caught some of this weekend. You can't really go wrong with such Hollywood detritus as Lisa Hartman (after Tabitha, before Clint Black), Bert Convy, and poor Jean Simmons.]

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