I was obsessed with the black and white movie section of our corner video store when I was a kid (#31 in that Facebook fad of yesteryear).
Katherine Hepburn was my hero (heroine sounds decidedly less cool). She was snarky, independent, wore trousers, and had the weirdest accent I'd ever heard. In a word: RAD.
The best thing about movies from the 1930s and 40s was the effortless glamour and sharp conversation skills. Witty banter gets me every time-- one of those qualities I admire from afar.
WARNING: Turbulent transition.
I wandered into the Jackson Hole bookstore recently and picked up this book on the owner's recommendation:
It's a confection set in Laos that positively reeks of all the qualities I found so enthralling in those VHS tapes I watched on our behemoth (we're not talking screen size) TV set. MGM could have put this mystery on the big screen no problem. It's too bad they never did series back then because the second book is just as worthy:
It's not that I think movie sequels represent a cultural step forward or anything. It's just that I can't get enough of Dr. Siri, the protagonist in these books. He sees dead people and they help him solve crimes (in a glamorous and witty sort of way).
So much to love. What more can I say?
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