I went into a Doubleday book store on the arcade level of the old Pennsylvania Station, sort of a dark, cavernous walkway that lead from a 7th Avenue street level entrance to the upper level trains--the ones that left the state. There were other stores there as well. This is approximately where you can go into Madison Square Garden, where the Gerry Cosby store is.
I must have gone in purposely wanting the book, because when they didn't have it, I ordered it, to be called (not e-mailed then) when it came in. I've never forgotten that when I picked the book up, it was July and I was on summer vacation. As such, I picked it up during the day, perhaps soon after they opened. I'll never forget that the salesman asked me if I worked nights, and that was why I was coming in during the early part of the day. I've never understood how a functioning adult could have looked at me then and thought I was coming in the from the graveyard shift. I just told him "no."
I still refer to the book, and occasionally read one of the short stories, particularly when they've used one for one of the many TV series that have come though the air and cable, and seem to thankfully show no signs of stopping. I've enjoyed all these presentations, even the one with Benedict Cumberbatch, who is great, but is paired with a thoroughly miscast looking Dr. Watson. TV. Whatever.
Years ago there was an annual race at Aqueduct racetrack that a Sherlock Holmes society of some kind descended on. They always named the race The Silver Blaze, after one of the stories about a missing horse. The society president, who showed up goofily dressed in a mackintosh, deerstalker cap and holding a meerschaum pipe, would present something to the winning connections of the race. His name was "Wolf" something, and I'm pretty sure he got heckled. It's been a long time since the society was back.
The current Holmes TV incarnation, 'Elementary' is one of the best. The most inventive, and pure genius to fill the role of Watson with the rarely smiling Lucy Liu as Dr. Watson. To cast Watson as a woman who has had to walk away from surgical medicine for some reason (malpractice insurance denied?) is an inspired stroke.
The setting of the show in New York City, with an employed Aidan Quinn as a police captain as Holmes's handler is another stroke of invention. Jonny Lee Miller plays a barely shaven, nearly unbearably right Holmes, who makes you like, if not love him, just the same. And you learn things, if you pay VERY close attention.
Because of the quick patter, and Mr. Miller's British accent, I sometimes can't tell what the hell he just said. The captioning feature gets a bit of a workout, and sometimes I leave it on for long stretches, just so I don't have to keep going back and forth.
I find the shows, even in repeat, with occasionally remembering who did what the first time I saw it, still enjoyable. And then there's the dialog. The learning. In a recently repeated episode Holmes tells Watson that her friends are "ani" for not understanding her. "Ani?" That's a word? They just couldn't say assholes, right? Wrong.
Ani is a bird, a black, warm American climate cuckoo. Makes perfect sense when Holmes says it.
Then there was the episode about computer code in 'The Leviathan' episode. The uncrackable safe. "Malbolge" is gibberish, right? Holmes is ani, There is no such computer language, right? Wrong. According to Wikipedia, malbolge is a public domain esoteric programming language invented by Ben Olmstead in 1998, named after the eighth circle of hell in Dante's Inferno, malebolge, evil ditches. It was designed to be completely useless, but apparently can be made to actually do things. The code in the episode is actual code, and spells out 'Hello World."
Then there's the revelation that "shyster" means one who defecates, in German.
Think of the uses of knowing that the next time you meet a lawyer.
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