Blondes

This is why every household needs a Haulin’ Colin trailer:

Last night, the whole fam-damnily—me, Jen, and the kid—plus Mimi’s friend, along with our housemate, Beth, all rode bikes to the outdoor movie in Cal Anderson park; thanks to the trailer, we did so in style, arriving with a full cooler of soda, beer, and already-mixed margueritas, a stack of blankets for spreading out upon, a couple of lawn chairs for those who like to sit up, and a big box of picnic food, plates, glasses, and utensils, surrounded by all manner of coats, sweaters, and sundry wraps for when it got chilly after sunset; all this was easily carried and I could have even piled on more; had we not had such cargo capacity we’d have had to divvy up the load in much less a practical manner; we couldn’t have brought the cooler, and in the end, we might even have had to (shudder) drive.

As it was, we all got a pleasant little bike ride on a lovely summer night and were able to enjoy—without worrying about the legal status of our sobriety on the ride home—the full experience of watching the hilarious “Gentleman Prefer Blondes,” a movie I’d somehow mostly overlooked in my years of film-watching; I had no idea it was so witty, racy, and filled with delights for just about everyone, no matter what your orientation towards cinematic beauty; in addition to the obvious charms of watching Jane Russell and Marilyn Monroe, you also had to love the dance bit featuring Speedo-clad male swimmers and contortionists as well as the unabashed naughtiness of the signature number “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend,” especially when Ms. Russell performs it her way in the French courtroom.

After the film, we just piled all our junk back on the trailer and rode home, merrily humming the evening’s tunes; diamonds may be a girl’s best friend; me, I’ll take a trailer.