Telephone Book Club and the Death of Sherlock Holmes

The other day, my grandpa and I finished reading Favorite Sherlock Holmes Detective Stories.  It was a lot of fun.  I personally love the Sherlock Holmes stories, and he had been wanting to read some more mysteries.  It was a win-win for both of us.  Everything went fine for most of the book.  I'm pretty sure he dozed off during "Silver Blaze," although I didn't particularly mind, since that was never my favorite, and in general, good times were had by all.  But...then, we got to "The Final Problem".  You know the one.  Sherlock Holmes reveals that most of the biggest crimes in London were being orchestrated by one man, weaving his web in the shadows: Professor Moriarty.  And of course, Holmes is *this* close to capturing him and ending his reign of terror forever.

But, Moriarty is easily Holmes's equal in brainpower and deductive reasoning.  And he has figured out what Holmes is up to.  So, what soon follows is a game of cat and mouse that culminates at Reichenbach Falls.  Watson gets pulled away on a fool's errand only to return once the final fight has ended.  Holmes and Moriarty have gone over the falls.

It was an incredibly emotional story, and reading it out loud made me realize just how intense it really was.  Reading to someone is so much more than just reciting something.  It's a performance.  You need inflection, and sometimes voices.  You get really invested in the story.  I found myself reading slowly, with lots of feeling and emotion.  It was probably my best reading yet.  

And I closed the book, and announced, as I do after every short story, "...and that's the end of 'The Final Problem'."  He was quiet on the other end, and for a moment, I wondered if he had fallen asleep.  Finally, he said, "So...Sherlock Holmes and this Moriarty fella.  Did he die?"

Of course I knew that this was not the end.  I've read all the Sherlock Holmes stories, and I knew that Conan Doyle killed off the detective because he wanted the freedom to write something else.  So, I told him with a smile in my voice what really happened.  That this was supposed to be the end, but after a huge public outcry, he had to bring the detective back. 

"Well, then," he said, "There's one more story in the book.  Is that the one about how he comes back?"

It wasn't, and I told him so.  But, I told him that I could totally get it for him and read it in a few days.  He was surprised, but delighted.  And when we finally did read it, it was awesome.

Father's Day 2020

As always, I want to take a moment to wish a very Happy Father's Day to all the fathers out there.  And to a couple special men in particular.

First, to my own father, who has been an amazing role model and source of love for me my entire life.  My grandfathers (one living, one dead) whose love and support has been invaluable. To my godfather (we don't have much of a relationship, but I'm still thinking about you and praying for you).  And finally, to a special, special man who I always think about on Father's Day.  You were the patriarch of our little blogging group, and I miss you very much.  I hope that wherever you are, you know how much you are loved.  Thank you, O.F., for everything.

Gloves

We've started letting patrons back into the library, so I'm working with people again.  It's been kind of nice, but mostly frustrating.  I forgot how stressful people can be.

As a side note, I sometimes wear gloves when I'm handling things for patrons (touching computer keyboards, etc.).  There's something rather satisfying about pulling on rubber gloves.  I feel like a mad scientist or something.  It's a little something that makes me smile, but since no one can see my face (because of my mask), I'm the only one who knows.