The blog got pushed to the wayside over the past week — but here’s a bit of what’s been going on the past few days:
– We went to see Sherlock Holmes. Madi is something of a Sherlockian — as well as a major Robert Downey Jr. fan — so this one was a no-brainer for our family movie outing (none of us — not even the more science fiction-inclined Barb — can get up for Avatar, which seems to be all form, no substance). We absolutely loved it. I’m not enough of a hardcore Sherlockian (I consider myself a lapsed amateur) to either appreciate some of the small details or get annoyed at liberties with the legend, but it definitely worked for us — and it’s not giving anything away to say it ended on a delightfully predictable cliffhanger.
While we’re on the subject, here’s a neat article in the latest issue of Smithsonian magazine about Arthur Conan Doyle’s — and Sherlock Holmes’ — London. Or at least what’s left of it.
– While at the mall this weekend, we came across one of the few remaining Waldenbooks in the area — and this one, in fact, was going out of business. That meant everything in the store was on sale, some of it as much as 70 or 80 percent off. No dummies, Barb and I dove in.
The shelves were mostly picked over — any new releases were long gone — and there was little sense of organization, but we scoured the shelves nevertheless. I managed to snag a recent bestselling but terribly trashy bio of Michael Jackson and one of Kevin Smith’s books, while Barb filled up thrillers, an atlas, and a really interesting guide to the burial places of famous people. Ah, clearance sales — the meth of book nerds.
– And finally, I would be remiss if I failed to mention that last Friday, January 8, would have been Elvis Presley’s 75th birthday. Play us off, Elvis.