Original subtitles

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"WGBH has created an educational program

that genuinely inspires."

This is today's paper?

"Julia Child is a pleasant and encouraging instructor,

despite teaching recipes that are hardly quick and easy.

However, if you'll only stick with her, you'll...

"...find the reward is delicious."

Good grief.

You memorized it?

"WGBH now looks capable

of producing shows that won't put you to sleep."

Hmm. A bit harsh.

Insulting.

Now, this station has a higher mandate,

to elevate and educate the public.

Maybe Julia's what we've been missing.

Well, Julia wouldn't have a show if she weren't my guest first.

I made that woman.

Harry Belafonte. Are you sure you need this?

Oh, it'll give me a lift for "Jump In The Line."

Alright, don't -- don't hurt your shaker.

I need you at my show tonight.

Child residence.

Uh, yes, uh, just a moment.

It's, uh, for you.

Oh.

Hello?

Oh, that's lovely.

No.

No, it's not supposed to be sweet.

What brand of cognac did you use?

Oh, next time just grab the brandy.

No need for it to be French.

No, well, you're very welcome.

Bye-bye.

Was that Gladys?

Well, I have no idea who that was.

Some woman who watched the "Coq au Vin" episode

put Grand Marnier in her stock.

Fourth call this week.

I suppose people really do have televisions.

Should we unlist our number?

Well, how else will they get in touch?

We've gotten dozens of letters from viewers,

and we just got a stellar write-up in "The Boston Globe,"

after three episodes.

I really think Philadelphia needs "The French Chef."

Did I just hear you say "The French Chef"?

I -- I said, uh, my friend Seth.

He's on the phone. You don't know him.

Hang up.

Let me call you back.

Page 5.

Above the fold.

Where did you say?

"Something's Cooking at WGBH."

Ahh.

This is...bad.

While attempting to create television

that transforms minds,

I'd forgotten that the world doesn't value substance.

It values flash,

whizz, bang.

Whatever happened with Nabokov?

He's still across the pond.

Cummings?

He just died.

Kerouac?

On the road, again.

Good morning!

- Morning, Julia! - Morning, Julia!

Petit fours for growing boys.

Hello, Marty.

Those little ones still keeping you awake?

Oh, boy. Look at that.

Oh, man, these look amazing.

- Did you try these? - They look delicious.

Wow. This is good.

How'd you like seeing your name in the paper today?

Oh, I haven't seen the paper.

I've been busy all morning.

There you go.

How wonderful for all of us.

Nice mention of you in there, too, Russ.

Oh, come on. Come on.

What is this, a tea party?

We have an episode to tech.

Julia? I'd like to go back to that shot

of you whisking the egg whites.

Oh, yes, I said a little prayer for that shot

just this morning.

Me too.

I think I've figured out something

where we can actually get inside the bowl.

Oh, well, that would be heavenly.

Yeah.

Oh, boy. That's new.

Used. My friend's a nature photographer.

Are we still making a cooking show?

Well, this should give us enough room where you don't have to

worry about bumping into my camera

while we're trying to get the shot.

Gosh. Ingenious.

If it works, it's really gonna come in handy for us.

Hit it, Julia.

I'm sorry. Julia, you think maybe you could, uh,

try not to move so much?

Well, it's meant to be vigorous, boys.

How else does one achieve stiff peaks?

Good morning!

Good morning, Julia.

Oh, good morning, Hunter.

We're right in the middle of something, Hunter.

Can you just --

Nice article in the "Globe" today.

Oh, isn't it wonderful?

Yes. Just one thing.

Next time, make sure to highlight WGBH as a whole.

Try and remember the hand that feeds you, hmm?

Oh, no, no, no. Nobody spoke to me.

I didn't even know about the article until a moment ago.

Sure, of course, but next time,

you'll have to remember you're part of a team.

Implying our other shows are boring --

it's insulting, Julia.

Yes, of course, Hunter, but...

there can't be a "next time" if there wasn't a first time.

You didn't even think to mention Albert at all?

To be fair, you did start out on his show.

But how could I have --

Hunter.

I didn't leave Albert out of the article.

I didn't even know about the article.

Yes, yes, of course.

An apology will go over well

and get him off my back.

Thank you, Julia. You're a doll.

Julia? Let's try this again.

I'm so excited to cook a new Julia recipe.

I'll tell the mailroom to keep an eye out for the manuscript.

Oh, good, good.

I mailed it this morning.

Well, you're my best guinea pig with these things.

And don't hold back.

Oh, it will be a treat.

I'm up to my ears in Updike at the moment.

Oh, yeah. Busy, busy.

I know the feeling.

In fact, I could really use your help with something.

What is it?

You wouldn't happen to have an author

who'd be willing to guest on "I've Been Reading"

with Albert Duhamel, would you?

Why? Are you working with him now?

No, no, no.

No. It's just...

the "Boston Globe" wrote a lovely piece today

about my silly little program,

and only my silly little program, so...

You need a "distract a jealous manchild

with a shiny object" favor.

Ha! Oh, Judith, you are wicked.

But, by George, I think you've got it.

I just thought it wouldn't hurt

to direct a bit of shine their way.

I'll see what I can do to help.

Oh, I've got to dash. It's Paul's pre-opening.

I can't promise anything.

Dian!

I'm afraid my art is less compelling

than the charcuterie board.

Paul.

That mood doesn't suit you.

Oh, I'm -- I'm being neurotic for fun.

No. It's good they're eating.

It's easier to shop when you're full and happy.

And see how long they're looking?

That man over there's been at Julia's photo

for quite a while now.

I counted seven Mississippis.

You know, I'd only been on a few months,

and Ernest Hemingway somehow gets word of the show

and tells his wife, you know, "Next time I'm in Boston,

I want to be a guest on 'I've Been Reading.'"

Oh! Incroyable.

Did you meet Papa?

No.

Unfortunately, as we were starting to get into it,

he -- he took his own life.

Yes, timing is everything.

Good evening, everyone.

Uh, Julia, darling, please join me.

Sweetheart.

Um...

well, I want to, uh, welcome

and thank each of you, uh, for attending tonight.

I'm Paul Child, and as you may know,

I am not an artist by trade.

I'm actually a diplomat.

Or a retired diplomat.

But I have been painting and drawing all my life

and taking photographs for many years now.

And few people in my life understood that it --

it wasn't just a hobby.

Perhaps me least of all.

And tonight, you're here,

with me, to see and to celebrate.

And for that, I am deeply grateful.

Thank you, Antoine,

for having my work in your beautiful gallery.

Thank you, Julia, my muse,

not least of all for the goodies.

And to so many others who are -- who are here tonight,

Avis, my sensei.

The radiant Sylvia Plath.

Honored.

Oh, and Thornton Wilder.

What a joy to have you in our town.

It is truly my pleasure to be with

each and every one of you tonight.

Thank you.

To Paul.

To Paul!

And Paul...

...has sold his first painting.

Oh, wonderful.

Well...

Oh, my gosh.

Harmony?

Tonight was fun.

Oh. It was.

It was.

I felt like a debutante at her coming-out party.

And I rather loved it.

So many wonderful people.

It was who's who, really.

And Albert stuffing his pockets with food

like an out-of-work actor.

Well, so much for my apology.

And it's not just Albert.

Hunter gave me a talking-to.

Yes, I think they all need a bit of a break from me.

Is that why you changed your mind about the reunion?

It is.

But it does mean I'm missing your opening.

Oh, nonsense. I think it's wonderful.

I'm so glad you changed your mind.

I've wanted you to go ever since they invited you.

Oh.

And tuck in a rhyming dictionary for the charlatan,

I mean, poet that you'll be sitting beside on that panel.

Are we sure I'm not the charlatan?

Oh, double nonsense.

You're a featured speaker.

Your fame is spreading beyond Cambridge

and "The Boston Globe" all the way to the Pioneer Valley.

No more the lowly undergraduate.

They're showing you some well-deserved veneration.

Russ, we're ready.

Thank you.

Where's Julia?

What am I, chopped liver?

When is she coming back?

Tomorrow at noon.

I-I got Mrs. DeVoto at the proper height.

She can stand in for her.

Fine. Let's see if this contraption works.

Alright. Go ahead, Avis. Hit it.

Start?

Okay.

Bring the bowl up higher.

No. Too high.

Split the difference.

A little lower.

Just relax.

A little to your left.

Or my left.

Can you feel the lens?

Look at the camera. See that?

- Geez, it's close. - Okay.

We want to see you whisking the eggs in the bowl.

Can you tilt the bowl towards the camera?

Oh, wait a minute. What's the line?

Isn't there a line? She says something.

She's always talking.

I mean -- Oh, my God, I'm sweating.

Oh.

Her head's covering it.

I'm sorry. Am I in the way?

Can you move around?

It's just the lights that are --

Jesus!

- Careful. - Can we stop for a minute?

- Sure. - Please. Thank you.

I don't know how we get this, Russ.

Heads aren't see-through.

Alright.

Benny, grab me a hand mirror from the work bench.

Oh, Russ, your hair looks just fine.

I have an idea.

"...where birdsong swells

through a fiery breast,

dewy and warm like a baby's breath."

Thank you.

Oh, my.

Thank you, Colleen.

And now, last but certainly not least,

Julia Child, née McWilliams.

Julia's bestselling cookbook,

"Mastering the Art of French Cooking,"

was published by Knopf in 1961.

And while she is here today as an author,

I would be remiss if I failed to mention her television show,

"The French Chef," airing on WGBH in Boston.

Welcome, Julia.

Well, thank you for having me.

I, um -- I can't very well read you a recipe, can I?

I'm just tickled pink to be here with you ladies.

Oh, aren't you the girl who almost set the dorms on fire

every time she made toast?

Thank you, Hazel.

It takes some of us years of practice

to perfect a grilled cheese sandwich.

Does anyone have any questions for Mrs. Child?

It was Willa Cather, if you can believe it.

Willa? Really?

When she left Houghton Mifflin for our little upstart,

changed everything.

Mm. Brave women.

When you find one, keep her close.

They're like unicorns.

That was Dorothy Parker's secret.

Sure, she was funny, for a gentile.

Well, I'd put her in the "Ish" category.

What set her apart -- she was brave.

Brave?

She was goddamn fearless.

Sorry to interrupt.

Judith, Updike is here.

Oh, well, I'll let you prepare for the maestro.

I'm a little peckish myself.

Oh, why don't you take Julia's new chapter

and cook something amazing for you and Alfred?

I won't have time to look at it until next week.

Oh.

Oh, and I can't get anyone for "I've Been Reading."

Let's start calling people we gave encouraging "no's" to.

Oh, it's nothing.

Yeah, just a little favor for a pal.

Good afternoon.

Hello, Blanche.

So good to see you.

Mm. Sharp as ever.

I was just leaving.

Amazing woman.

Not that I'm not terrified of her.

Join the club.

Although, after reading through these notes,

I'm a bit terrified of you, too.

Why, thank you, John.

Hello. My name is Alice Naman,

and I am with WGBH in Boston.

Julia is so charming, and housewives are telling us

she makes them feel genuinely excited about cooking.

"The French Chef."

"The...French --"

Her fan base is bigger than what you would think.

In fact, some people are watching it

just for the entertainment factor.

She's a gas.

The idea is you watch her cook.

With the Kennedys in the White House,

French food has never been so fashionable,

which makes D.C... Lincoln...

Philadelphia... Chicago...

Houston the perfect market for Julia.

No. No, she's not French.

And we can make a deal that makes sense for yo--

No. I-I understand.

Albert's looking for you.

He's not happy.

That makes two of us.

Won't it be confusing to jump around like that?

That's the point, isn't it?

Now, it's been a while since I've participated

in a drug-fueled orgy.

No, but seriously, I imagine it can't be totally...

coherent.

Let us feel that.

Sure, sure.

Then when Angela's back in the picture,

we can really feel that dynamic shift for Piet in the prose.

He's raging, passionate, destructive,

until sex is the only thing left, you know?

It's -- It's heavy.

Right.

Right.

You're like Michelangelo with the block of granite.

You know what's not an elephant.

It's easy when there is an elephant.

You think there's an elephant?

I think there's a helluvan elephant.

I'll take another crack.

I just need a couple of days to...

let it all steep.

Sure.

Any chance you're up for letting it steep in Boston?

What's in Boston?

Ahh.

Oh, no, girls!

It's happened again!

Well, I can't do too much damage.

I'm watching my grandkids tomorrow afternoon.

Oh, that's sweet.

Do you want to see pictures?

Not really.

I'm only kidding.

They're so cute, right?

I mean, come on.

Oh, nice. Yes. Aww.

Here you go.

- Aww. - Ooh, those cheeks!

- Oh, Alma, they're adorable. - Thank you.

Looks like a sweet little chipmunk!

They're terrors.

Well, it must be lovely having the company

of little ones again.

To tell you the truth, I'm far more interested

in what you've been up to.

Ohh. Me?

Poppycock.

You're a TV star!

Hear, hear. You were wonderful today.

I wish I could see your show.

You'll have to find a way to get it to air in New Jersey.

I don't even know how I got it to air in Boston.

Good evening, ladies.

Julia.

Iris.

Iris Wallace.

Yes! Iris, of course!

Join us.

Have a glass of wine.

- Brava! - Encore! Encore!

- Molto bene! - Beautiful, beautiful!

- Encore!

Were we really ever that young?

Well, I know I was never that short.

I can hardly remember it anymore.

Well, then, at the same time, it feels like it was yesterday.

Everything seemed possible.

Sounds stupid now, but I was gonna go

to New York and conquer Broadway.

I mean, we all knew how exceptional we were.

And then we just grew up and became our parents.

Except for Julia, that is.

Oh, no, not this again.

To Julia...

for living the kind of life we used to dream about.

- To Julia! - Julia!

Hello?

Hey, sweetheart.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm late.

Yeah.

It was pretty good.

Ah, just got distracted on set.

Spanakopita?

I'll grab a dozen in case the craving lasts.

Of course, honey.

I love you, too.

Okay. Bye-bye.

I love how contemplative it feels in here tonight.

That's one way to put it.

How would you put it?

The way things went yesterday, I just thought...

I don't know what I thought.

You're coming off a high.

It's going very well.

You sold three pieces in two days.

My sensei bought the painting.

And the other two were photos of Julia.

I feel like an old fool.

Oh.

No one thinks you're old.

This is what you wanted.

The work is great.

Just enjoy the ride.

You know...

the only painting Van Gogh ever sold...

was to his brother when he was 30.

See?

Van Gogh never gave up.

Well...

he did, actually.

I don't remember a walk through campus

winding me like this.

That hill back there was treacherous.

Well, I must have gained 20 pounds

since I last walked the green.

Ah.

Please.

Oh, Julia.

It's so good to see you.

When your cookbook came out, it never occurred to me

that Julia Child was Julia McWilliams.

Well, I would never have guessed it, either.

Oh.

But then, one day, I was in my kitchen,

and I heard your voice in my living room.

It all came back to me. My heart started pounding.

I was beside myself. I ran into the living room.

And there you were, on my television.

Enough about me.

Tell me about you.

You haven't changed your name.

Are you married?

Oh.

I have someone.

Oh, well, that's wonderful.

What does he do?

Mm...

not he.

She. Carol.

Ahh.

And if it weren't for you,

I don't know if I would have found her.

It changed me, being around you.

Iris, I'm sorry.

I'm so confused.

What are we talking about?

Spring Break...

our senior year.

You must remember.

We went to the house in Maine with Charlotte

and some of the other basketball girls.

We were drinking by the lake,

and that group of Yale boys met us?

Yes, yes. That's right.

We hung back, and the girls went off.

And we finished the Beefeater

and dared each other to skinny-dip in the lake.

Oh, my God!

We -- it was freezing.

We kept kicking each other under the water.

I-I just couldn't believe how free and natural it all felt.

Oh, well, yes, I remember the skinny-dipping

and the water being cold.

And running into the house and...

falling asleep on the couch under that big blanket,

the -- uh, with the tartan print.

Red and -- and green, I think.

Reminded me of Christmas.

Memory can be so fickle.

Shall we?

Hello?

My Paul.

How are you? How was the opening?

Eh... you -- you didn't miss much.

The pre-opening was -- was better.

You're just saying that to make me feel better for missing it.

Someone bought a photo of you.

Said they plan to hang it in their kitchen.

Oh, gosh.

I don't know if I want to be hanging in someone else's house.

You're like the patron saint of omelettes.

Oh, dear.

I really can't wait to see you tomorrow.

Just you. I miss you so much.

After 12 hours?

I know, it's silly.

Just not used to spending the night away from you,

I guess.

I miss you too, kitten.

Good morning!

Hey, good morning!

You're early.

Yes, no traffic on Route 9 this morning.

How was your trip?

Thank you for asking, Benny.

Julia, uh, we're not quite ready for you,

but don't go far.

Ah.

I want to show her the mirror shot.

The mirror shot.

Sounds so Hollywood.

I've never known you to be the first to leave a good party.

Well, a -- a trip down memory lane

is often better off a stroll than a full-blown hike.

Julia, we'd like to show you something.

Avis, hit it.

Come on.

Oh, my goodness.

You're kidding me.

Well, you old dog.

This looks like a riff on something you picked up

in the honeymoon suite at Niagara Falls.

Oh, well done, the two of you.

I hope I'm not interrupting anything.

Uh, Julia, these letters are for you.

Oh, my goodness.

You went from 27 to what, 200?

More keep flooding in every week.

Really? Oh, let's see.

"Dear Mrs. Child, you don't know me,

but you were with me at my engagement party last week

through your Queen of Sheba cake."

Oh.

I almost feel like you're part of the family now.

Next time, I'll leave a slice at your doorstep.

Love, Arlene."

Well, isn't that charming?

Well, it is a delicious cake,

but perhaps I might start locking my door at night.

Thank you, Jen.

I'll -- I'll pick them up from the front on the way out.

I'm ready, Russ.

Great.

I am, too.

I'm sorry, dear.

I know you see potential here, but I --

I just don't know how many chicken recipes

the American housewife needs,

or wants, or will pay for.

This is her first pass.

I'll just let her know we need more new ideas for Part 2.

It's not just that.

I-It's only selling in Boston, and --

and who really cares about Boston?

I know you love this woman.

But I just can't see how

a second volume works for us at this time.

I'm sorry. I really am.

At least now you'll have time for your more serious titles.

I should get that.

Oh.

This is Judith.

Judith, it's John.

I'm here at WGBH, and I must tell you --

I'm not gonna be the butt of some joke here, am I?

John! Not at all!

I shouldn't have assumed this place would reflect

you personally, but it's much heavier

on the "public" than the "television."

Look, it's a small audience, but a smart one.

Literate. Intellectual. Academic.

I have to be honest, Judith. I'm having second thoughts.

Your notes were great, but no notes are that great.

Excuse me. I don't mean to interrupt.

I just wanted to say how delightful it is to see you

at our little station.

A literary giant,

gracing our airwaves.

Professor Duhamel is the Elvis of eggheads,

and you will surely be the jewel in his crown.

All the Crimson kids are going to worship you

even more than they already do.

"He runs.

runs.

Runs."

It's genius.

You owe me one.

Are the pillows better now?

Ahh. They do look better.

You should really consider the benefits

of fluffing them weekly!

I'm on it. I'm on it.

Do the ferns smell fake to you?

What does a fake fern smell like?

Wrong answer.

Get Marcia to spritz them with some of that hair spray

she uses that smells so good.

That stuff's flammable.

Well, I'm doused in it!

Oh, never mind the hair spray.

It's not that I haven't read and taught "Rabbit, Run,"

but I deserve some runway to prepare for this.

I had to act fast.

And this seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up.

I'm sorry. It won't happen again.

No, no, no. It's alright.

But just remember you doubted someone of Updike's caliber

was within our grasp.

And I hope you've learned your lesson.

Is this the right place?

Oh. Hello, John.

May I call you John?

It's my name.

You may call me Albert.

You may also call me Duke.

It isn't my name.

Oh, Julia! Darling!

Hello, Albert!

Please meet my distinguished guest.

Oh, uh, we've --

Julia, this is John Updike.

And this is Julia Child,

towering scribe of "Mastering the French Chef."

Hello, John. Welcome to WGBH.

Charmed. Ladies, I am very sorry.

I'm sure you'd love to stay and chitchat,

but it's really not a good time for us.

We're about to start, and we need to focus.

Yes, of course. We'll get out of the way.

John, it's been a pleasure.

"Mastering the French Chef."

What a buffoon.

And how did he ever land John Updike?

I have no idea.

The way he presented him to us,

not that he even registered I was there.

He was like a sugared-up child at show-and-tell.

I practically wanted to spit in my hand

and wipe the chocolate off his face.

I thought it was sweet.

It was many things, but sweet it was not.

Oh, I knew he'd be thrilled with Updike.

You're kidding.

You sent him Updike?

Well, not as far as he knows.

What happened to "no idea"?

Mm!

You want to know how I did it?

No. I want to know why you did it.

When he's happy, Hunter's happy.

I get it.

I spent the last week doing the same thing for Paul.

Boosting his ego and massaging his pride

so that you could get your work done in peace.

Men just need a little boost sometimes.

I find it terribly moving.

Can't be easy having a woman steal your shine.

Ah!

What shine did you ever steal?

That's your shine.

Oh, Avis, come now.

This tale goes back to the Garden of Eden.

It makes life spicy.

I say, vive la difference.

And besides, if he wants the spotlight so badly,

let him have it.

I don't know.

I just think about how many more hours in the day we'd have

if we didn't have to spend so much of it

apologizing to men for your success.

I'm not apologizing.

Who said anything about apologizing?

Don't be so black-and-white, Avis.

It's unbecoming.

Hello, and welcome to

"I've Been Reading."

Class is now in session.

Well, I want to start with a question about "Rabbit."

I've read this book three times now

and find myself more struck and challenged

and enthralled by it each time.

Tell me what a writer -- in this case you,

John Updike --

feels when he flabbergasts his readers time after time

with what he thought had been clear in the epigraph,

which comes from Pascal's "Pensées," I believe.

Yes, "The motions of Grace, the hardness of heart;

external circumstances."

Was there a question in there?

Oh, my God.

Wh-Why do men jog?

I mean, should we start there?

Why do men jog?

Huh.

It's simple,

but I guess I'd never really

thought of it that way before.

You know, come to think of it,

I started jogging the first time I struck out with a girl,

and I still don't really know where I'm headed.

I-I see a connection. I-I-I do.

Well, between your novel and Cheever's "The Swimmer,"

I think one conclusion is that men

are aerobically compelled to get away from their wives.

Yes.

Yes. Yes.

Alice.

Phone call for you.

This is a live set. I'll call them back.

But it's long distance from San Francisco.

Excuse me.

Whoa.

- Oh! My. - Oh!

- Whoa! Heads up! - Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

Hey, watch it!

Where's the fire?

- Sorry. - Oh, geez!

Oh, Alice, Julia forgot her --

I --

This is Alice Naman from "The French Chef."

You're kidding. I mean, that's wonderful!

You did what?

Wait. So we make the episodes,

and they pay us for them?

And which one of you fellas came up with that idea?

You sold "The French Chef" to KQED

without mentioning it to me -- or to anyone!

You really shouldn't have done that, Alice.

Really. That was wrong of you.

And -- And what's more, how did you do it?

How?!

Who did you say you were?

Do -- Do -- Do they know?

Do they even know who's running this place?

There's a hierarchy here.

An associate producer should never,

and I mean never,

go behind everyone's back like this.

I just can't get my head around it.

And I'm angry!

Truly, I am. But also...

I mean, you're gonna have to walk me through this,

man to man.

Selling "The French Chef" to other stations...

The possibilities.

This could be a game-changer for us.

Alice.

Mm-hmm?

Do you think this could happen again?

WGBH in San Francisco!

Ooh! Whoo!

Someone called the house this morning

saying they loved my photographs.

- That's nice. - Mm.

Do they want to buy one?

No. They want me to shoot their son's bar mitzvah.

Oh.

I learned something this weekend.

Something valuable.

What's that?

I'm a hobbyist.

Oh, Paul.

A skilled craftsman.

And I'll keep doing this so long as I enjoy it, but...

I'm not the true artist in this family.

And for the record, I couldn't be more invested

in your rising star.

I'm scared, Paul.

It really isn't just the jealousy --

Albert and the like.

It's...

The adoration can be hard, too.

Listen to me.

"Adoration."

Mm. I think it's apt.

It's the strangest thing,

people thinking I belong to them somehow.

They bake my cake and send me a note about it.

And it's lovely until I really think about it,

and then it's less lovely.

They hear my voice on TV,

and we end up spending an entire evening

talking about what I mean to them.

You're teaching Americans how to taste life,

and they're listening.

That's goddamn huge.

Well, it may be too huge.

For me, at least.

And I love doing my little show, but the rest is --

Ohh, it's not your little show anymore, kitten.

Now it's Boston's little show.

And that's what we wanted, wasn't it?

It's so beautiful, Paul.