And life was black-and-white; the Technicolor was just around the corner, but it wasn’t there yet in 1959. That’s why you have music. If you can’t say it, sing it. Listen to the songs of the period. Heavily pointed and romantic, and trying to say things that they couldn’t say in prose or even on paper. Weathers fine, 7:30 p.m., wind has died down, P.S. I love you.