Oliver and I watched To Catch a Thief last night. We're visiting my aunt in Los Altos. She has a closet full of videocassetes -- hundreds of them -- and we all had a difficult time figuring out how to work the VCR. I was worried that Oliver would be bored by the movie, but he was mesmerized. And later, when we were out in the garage getting the blow-up bed, I mused on how good-looking that Cary Grant was. I might have called him dreamy, and Oliver just nodded his head and said, yeah, those old-time people were almost too perfect the way they looked. It almost hurt my eyes.