I was watching Capturing the Friedmans recently on DVD (which, by the way, I highly recommend, even if you saw the film, because of all the interesting extra footage on the DVD) when I realized I have seen, over the past year, a string of films that take place on Long Island, NY. Together they seem to make Long Island out as the Orange County of the East Coast, that is strange things abound (but without all the sex).
It all started with the chauffeur's daughter who runs off to Paris and returns to watch two men duke it out for her. Luckily she never bumped into Speedo while driving around, or her Rolls Royce certainly would have been damaged. And watch that you don't get caught between crazed citizens dueling with day laborers, you wouldn't want to set off the waiting time bomb.
I knew New York City was unruly, but figured Long Island for a quiet, peaceful sort of place. I guess next time I fly into JFK I'll pay more attention instead of sleeping on the LIRR.
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