Back in Bismarck, Dad’s body is slowly failing. Now we can add congestive heart failure and another liter-sized fluid draw from his lungs. I don’t feel like blogging about that here. I think that I said enough about that in this post. I have plans to make two consecutive trips there; one next week, by myself, and the other with the Mister. Though we know it’s just a matter of time, we don’t know what speed this particular clock is moving at so it’s hard to know what to do.
My answer to this to this question, for this week anyway, is to numb myself with Netflix. Namely, the sugary TV show “Glee”. It’s popular enough that I don’t have to share what it’s about but suffice to say, it’s hard to get too damn emotional when there is a saccharine duet about to break out any moment. On Monday I watched until 3 a.m. Last night was a repeat of the same. I only broke up this serial binging with a trip to Target to get healthy snacks so that I’d at least have something to eat while I chose to engage with the world via musical numbers performed by 30 year-olds playing teens and used my iPad as a security blanket and endlessly played Hay Day. Yes, it’s a farming game. And you can’t “win” it so you simply keep going and going and going with the knowledge that you are wasting time.
I’ve specifically avoided watching the final episode of season three of “Sherlock”. I’ve been saving this. I absolutely adore the recent portrayal of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes by Benedict Cumberbatch. Or as I call him “Cumberbunny”. I’d hate to watch it and not quite pay full attention to it. Each season of “Sherlock” is but four episodes long. Granted, they are longer episodes of 90 minutes but that still isn’t much to watch. “Glee”, while being less delightful is certainly far more prolific with something like 50 minutes treacle a show and 22 of those suckers a season. No, you cannot truly glut on “Sherlock”. You have to sip it. And if you made the mistake of gulping it, like I did with the first season, years ago, you would be rewarded with regret. I’d imagine it would be similar to spending hundreds of dollars on extraordinary champagne for a special occasion, only to wake up after a hard night of karaoke to find that you glugged that sucker down with a plate of Pizza Rolls.
“Sherlock” should not be squandered. Martin Freeman as Watson, Rupert Graves as Lestrade, Una Stubbs as Mrs. Hudson and Mark Gatiss as Mycroft are perfectly cast. And Cumberbunny is spot on. Now, the nickname isn’t because I think that he’s gorgeous. I just think he’s fantastic. It’s something akin to me thinking that Rex Harrison in My Fair Lady is dead sexy but not finding him handsome at all. It can be done.
The writing here is superb. And whole production seems like a love letter to London. After seeing it, how could you stop yourself from dreaming of rides in black cabs or seeing the changing of the guard? Even the fonts used in the titling looks like that of the Underground. Brilliant!
Sherlock Holmes is really my favorite fictional character. I do have some misgivings about this because he isn’t female and he’s not someone that I’d want to meet in person. Still, I can’t stop myself loving almost every incarnation of this misanthrope. Well, except for “Elementary”. I don’t know what kind of emotional turmoil I’d have to be in before I found myself queueing up that bit of poo. Probably best not to start imagining the details. I’ll leave that to my favorite highly-functioning sociopath – Sherlock.
[Editor’s note: Ah, sod it! I just re-watched that Graham Norton clip and forget what I said about Cumberbunny not being handsome. He’s sponge-worthy, folks!]
Trip Ahoy! 