Last night, the Feast of St. Joseph, I had a small somewhat Italiano repast for dinner to pay him homage.  A truly divine bottle of Anthony’s Hill Pinot Noir, with gorgeous oak tannins; I stopped at Canseco’s and bought a lot of braided Italian bread; warmed and crisped it in the oven drizzled with olive oil, and Parmesan; basil pesto; dried tomato pesto and smoked mozzarella.  I’m not minding DST so much at all, and enjoyed the beautiful colors of the late spring afternoon as they deepened into evening; I unplugged the green St. Paddy’s Day lights from the back porch, left the white ones on and reconnected the purple lights; the flowers are beautiful there; the salmon colored geranium on the front porch is loaded with blooms and this I have in a blue pot.  Anyway, relaxing in the big blue chair as night fell, I watched the tape I’d made of what is perhaps my favorite film noir movie, up there with, “Out of the Past,” and one of my favorite movies period:  “Crossfire,” from 1948.  With the three Roberts:  Young; Mitchum and Ryan.  I have loved this movie from the first time I ever saw it, the story, the atmosphere, the shots, the acting.  Robert Young as Detective Finney reminds me so much of my father; the dance scene in the courtyard between Gloria Graham and the accused solider to that low down New Orleans jazz song is priceless…so, I always thought this movie was one of my guilty pleasures mainly because it suited me so perfectly all these years.  And then, God bless TCM, at this last showing they gave a history of it.  In 1948, it was nominated for five Oscars including:  Best Picture; Best Director; Best Supporting Actor (Robert Ryan); Best Supportive Actress (Gloria Grahame)and Best Adapted Screenplay.  Can I call them, or what?  Robert Ryan’s Montgomery is one of the most despicable characters ever.  The direction was great, and so was the cinematography, not to mention the sets.  It was film noir all the way, shadows and light, like metaphors for good against evil.  I’m glad I watched it again.