Last week I received an email from a NY Times subscriber newsletter called “The Amplifier“. It’s written by Lindsay Zoladz. Me and Lindsay have a kind-of stand-off-ish relationship. Sometimes she gives me something fun, most times it’s just ok, whatever, yeah, girl, I get you, but. The other day she nailed it, with a music compilation based on Sofia Coppola’s movies. Lindsay’s got a nice gig; she writes concise reviews and then puts the whole list on Spotify, so one could listen to the whole go. I’d like that job, but I don’t think I would be too popular. She has, um, a “cultivated” taste that’s well broader than my own. Anyway, you can listen to “Sofia Coppola’s Needle Drops” on Spotify if you don’t feel like breaking the NY Times paywall.

So, as I was struggling with this evening’s presentation, I remembered Lindsay’s article and picked out my own Sofia Coppola tribute, one that made me fall in love with Sofia many years ago, and seems to have been updated with better-quality sound and video. I’m still a Sofia fan, and I’m looking forward to the movie Priscilla. I’m sure it’s luscious and plush, full of painfully luxurious good taste. But wait, it’s Priscilla Presley. That will be interesting.

I didn’t see Marie Antoinette in the theatres, something I very much regret. I would have especially liked watching Kirsten Dunst, another of my top-five whatevers; re: Virgin Suicides. She’s like walking Valium.

Obviously I’m getting silly. Good night.