a ticket for Jon Stewart's movie?

A request and a report: First, the request. I do not ask much of my friends and readers (except of course their undying devotion). I am now. The Toronto International Film Festival, TIFF, is a bewildering maze, too much like work - I have never tried to figure it out. But now there's something I'd like to see. If any of you knows how I can get a ticket to the TIFF presentation of Jon Stewart's new movie Rosewater, please let me know. It's on Tuesday September 9th at 12.30. I know this because my friend Richard told me all about it, and also that he can't get me a ticket. There's a splendid gala sometime before, which will probably be attended by the beloved and very short director and is limited I'm sure to rich and important people. But I would love to see his film at the other showing, though I know it'll be released to the public before long. If you have a spare ticket, I'll ... I'll edit for you. I'll dedicate copies of my books. I will be grateful.

Okay, enough grovelling. It's worth a try.

I saw a documentary the other night on George Martin, the fifth Beatle, the brilliant producer of their music and the Goons and many other musicians. Boy, some people in the world are simply blessed, and George Martin is one of them. He's tall, slender, sharp and handsome, even now at nearly ninety. He was the right man in the right place at the right time, at the centre of that joyful explosion of music. He's been happily married for decades to his second wife and works now with his son. It all looks pretty damn good. A clever and hardworking man with a great sense of humour. A lucky man.

On another note, I just saw a bit of Suzuki's The Nature of Things about the Black Plague, which showed a guy in Oregon who caught something bad from his cat and nearly died. He caught ... the Bubonic Plague. His fingers and toes turned black and had to amputated. This was not hundreds of years ago, this was RECENTLY. Ye Gods.

An unlucky man. Except that he's alive. Who needs fingers?