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Memorial Musings

In years gone by, our Memorial Day weekend was usually spent at our place in Provincetown, a gray, cold, drizzly invitation to summer.

So here I am in London, on a gray, cold, drizzly afternoon wishing we were somewhere warm and inviting, welcoming in the summer.

It's been a lovely long weekend, despite the lack of fun in the sun. Eurovision at a suburban sleepover on Saturday was a riot. Last night we had our third (and best ever) visit with Liza. She's lost 44 pounds on Jenny Craig and put on a much better show than the last two times we've seen her. Funny, touching, sparkling (bedazzled headbands are back!) and she can still hit (most of) her notes.

Today we went to the multiplex to see Indiana Jones and the Death of a Franchise. Really, Mssrs Speilburg and Lucas — that was the best you could do? I don't think there needs to be another one, but if you decided to do it, maybe you should put Liza in it.

So, it was a weekend of camp gaiety in less than ideal weather. Lesson learned — a bank holiday in London isnt' that much different from Memorial Day on Cape Cod. The selling point is we're not sitting in the car heading back to Manhattan on an overly congested I-95 through the never-ending state of Connecticut.

Of course, with gas over 4 bucks a gallon, I wonder how crowded I-95 really was this weekend?