I had been planning on watching Kiss of Death today. Not the original, with its terrible Victor Mature performance, but the remake. I haven’t seen it in decades. Used to be a big David Caruso fan. Pre-“CSI.” John Kelly, “Michael Hayes.” There’s still a line in “Michael Hayes” I can recall and it’ll bring tears to my eyes. David Caruso made a great white savior. I sort of thought I’d be ready to watch it today, ready to detach my brain from the rest of the world. Tune out the empathy, tune the dial to solipsism. But I don’t think so. I’m seeing other people get back on track; I even read an interview a friend did with a Troma guy, tracked down one of the movies discussed, added it to the never-ending watch list. But I don’t think I’m ready to do Kiss of Death. So I thought, what about Seems Like Old Times; that one might actually make me laugh. But I’m not ready to laugh yet either. I did last night—we watched “Frasier.” The one with Patrick Stewart. It was really funny. And then I realized the United States is more hateful thirteen years later. So not ready for a movie yet. Maybe tomorrow.