It was surprisingly slippery out this morning. I watched one woman wipe out in front of me on the sidewalk, and saw another person lying under a blanket waiting for an ambulance, attended to by strangers with cellphones.

E & I saw The Royal Tenenbaums last night. We both liked it, although he suffered from heightened expectations ("It's no Rushmore," he lamented afterward) whereas I had managed to lower mine a little. I think Luke Wilson's stoner-spacy pace can be a drag, but he was just right for mellow, mournful Richie, and I got a kick out of Gwyneth Paltrow sulking and wearing too much eyeliner.

But what I like best about Wes Anderson is his attention to visual & material detail:
- the pink walls
- the kitschy book covers that introduce each character
- the eccentric clothes the characters wear like uniforms (Margot's sports dress & fur coat, Richie's headband and sunglasses, Eli's western wear, Chas' track suit, Pagoda's pink pants)
- the catalogues of things that represent the siblings' childhoods (miniature stage sets, safe deposit box, drum kit)