Longtime visitors know the drill. I use flickchart.com to generate three lists: my favorites, users favorites, and previously unseen. I then add magic sauce and come up with a list of 31 movies to watch, one per day, over the course of the month. I tinker each year with what gets included. And so we begin the month.

1. Night Watch. 2004. The first of my unseen movies. Russian. A fantasy-thriller set in present-day Moscow where the respective forces that control daytime and nighttime do battle. Interesting idea. Sequel called Day Watch. Some interesting ideas techniques used but the story telling just doesn’t work. I never cared and that’s often a key. Not bad as a diversion but won’t be on the list again. 3.1 out of 10 but could edge higher.
2. Ugetsu. 1953. Japanese. From the users list. Probably doesn’t belong here. Utilizes the Japanese concept of ghosts but not really scary or atmospheric in any way. A tale of ambition, family, love, and war set in the midst of the Japanese Civil Wars of the sixteenth century. A good tale, well told. But not for my October. 5.2/10.
3. Midsommar. 2019. A couple travels to Sweden to visit a rural hometown’s fabled mid-summer festival. What begins as an idyllic retreat quickly devolves into an increasingly violent and bizarre competition at the hands of a pagan cult. You’ve seen it before half a dozen times, but this time it’s prettier. And Swedish. Makes the list as previously unseen. I’d recommend a look. 7.5
4. Repulson. 1965. UK. Roman Polanski’s first English language film. A sex-repulsed woman who disapproves of her sister’s boyfriend sinks into depression and has horrific visions of rape and violence. This keeps making the users list and I keep watching it and finding new things. Catherine Deneuve’s beauty is unearthly. Yvonne Furneaux holds her own (and gets a lead turn in The Mummy!) 8.8/10
5. World War Z. 2013. Former United Nations employee traverses the world in a race against time to stop the Zombie pandemic that is toppling armies and governments, and threatening to destroy humanity itself. Been there. Seen it. Got the shirt. This comes to us from the previously unseen list which I was quite generous this year. Won’t be seen again. Waste of time. 1.4/10

I have a pretty basic shaving routine. Nine times out of ten I use a mug and brush and some nice soap, lather it up and slather it on. It carries virtually no scent but gets the job done, along with my Harry’s razor (NOT an endorsement, but I like it!)

Once or twice a month including the first of the month when I change my blade, I use Harry’s shaving gel. It has a scent I like, it leads to a nice smooth shave, pairs well with their skin balm product and most of the women in my life over the last five years whose opinion matters like it. Too Metrosexual?  Is that even still a thing?

Last September my father’s physical decline began in earnest. Mom could no longer fully care for him on her own. My sister was doing the bulk of the work but personal hygiene fell to me. So every couple of days I would go out, assist (!?) him in the shower, and shave him. His skin tone was fading and an electric razor (which he’d used most of his life) snagged and was painful. So I grabbed a fresh blade-head and my gel and balm. After his shower while his skin was moisturized and somewhat supple, and while the bathroom was still hot and steamy, I shaved my father. He sat stoically still. We bantered as we had for decades but this was not a decades old relationship. This was a new one. A reversal. My father was now near helpless. But I carefully groomed him. His cheeks. His throat. Under his (considerable) nose. I combed his hair, dressed him and helped him back into the family circle.

The LAST time I shaved him he made a joke. I damned near fell off the tub laughing. The family heard me in from three rooms away. And an hour later I couldn’t remember what he said. It was blocked from my recall for some reason. That was a year ago last week. He died “peacefully” in his sleep a few days later. At home. Surrounded by ALL of us. His wife.  His children.  His six grandchildren.  And yesterday, on the anniversary, I made a mistake. I used the gel, instead of waiting until tomorrow, the first. And the memory of those last weeks came crashing back. And I cried more than I have since it happened.

And I STILL can’t recall his last quip. And THAT makes me the most angry.