What does Notre Dame have to do with Scarlett Johansson and June Squibb? Nothing, although I assume June was also spitting expletives for at least 75 percent of last night’s playoff game before rolling around on the couch and moaning, “It won’t be us, IT’S NEVER US ANYMORE, WHY IS IT NEVER US,” right before our kicker nailed the winning field goal. (It’s a good thing I’m not dramatic.) Truly, there is — correctly — very little happening in L.A. celeb-wise that isn’t tragic (I know this is parasocial, but I watched Mandy Moore’s house go up on Instagram over a long period of time, and today she posted pictures of much of it in rubble), and it feels REALLY strange to be happy about football when the city I live in burns around me. But I decided to take the joy while it was in front of me. I don’t think we’ll win the championship game, but that’s okay. I needed them today and they delivered. I ALSO needed to see ScarJo and JuSqui looking delighted to be standing next to each other. Maybe Scarjo & Squibb could be a detective show on Peacock. But low-stakes detection. They don’t need to solve murders. Not because I don’t think they COULD, but because I don’t have another murder show in me. Just hunt down that sock that’s gone missing, or interview the children about whether they hid their mother’s Nintendo Switch as a prank, or solve The Case of the Mysterious Smell.
