Why cant i find a decent boyfriend,love spells that work yahoo answers 69,how to get back your ex if shes dating someone else lyrics,how to find girlfriend in bangladesh - Plans Download

admin | I Want My Ex Back Now | 17.02.2014
The Bi Women Support Network is a survivor-led resource to support bi women who have experienced sexual violence, including (but not limited to) rape, sexual assault, sexual abuse, and intimate partner violence. One of the most common questions we get, and indeed the hardest one to answer is the most general one of all. There are many different paths to healing but I wanted to have a post with the method I have personally found most effective. At different points in the process, you’ll need more of one than the other, but in general, SCaR suggests starting with Symptom Management. So now you have a list of your symptoms, but more importantly you’ve selected one, maybe two of these symptoms to focus on.
Once you feel that you have a decent grasp on coping skills for a specific symptom, go back to your original list of symptoms and choose another one.
While both preventative and reactive self care have their place, one of the things that we can do to better increase our quality of life over all is maintenance self care. There are different kinds of processing, but the one people tend to focus most on is just telling their story. One of the things I’ve found helps more is to start talking about how it effected you first. Another part of processing isn’t so much about your own history, but in how your history interacts with others. Processing is one of those things that is a continuous event, it is something you will be doing for the rest of your life.
A few phone calls, and a hurry up shift on the Limo companies part, and we were all in the stretch limo headed for Toronto. We found the second-story, enclosed passageway, that leads from the three airport terminals to the Airport Hilton.We walked its length, passing the rail terminal, where we found an ATM and got some needed Euros. We arose early, the differences in time zones not yet acclimated into our circadian rhythms.
We bought some cappuccino and croissants, in an airport restaurant, and watched the giant aerial behemoths land and take off in this busy airport.
We climbed these ancient steps, enjoying the surreal experience of viewing the huge sculptures flanking the stairs headway and wondering at the many who had come this way throughout the ages.
Just up the rise, behind the triumphant arch of Constantine, we could see the now familiar broken circle of the remains of the coliseum. Hunger was gnawing at us, so we stopped at a cute little trattoria labeled a€?planet pizza.a€? We ordered two slices of pizza and continued on, walking the narrow streets as we munched on our pizza. We sat for a time, watching the tourists, and enjoying the sunshine and 62 degree temperatures.
After lunch, we walked about the piazza, enjoying the controlled tumult and browsing the artists with their easels and the colorful souvenir vendors. We were becoming foot weary from the line of march, but headed southeast from the Piazza Navona, in search of the fabled Pantheon. Soon, we turned a corner and stood still for a moment, appreciating the classic lines of the Pantheon, a former pagan temple that had been constructed in 183 A.D. From the Pantheon, we followed our map to the Via Corso and headed back towards that huge monument dominating the skyline, the Vittorio Emmanuel II, in the Piazza Venezia.
We walked the small and narrow streets nearby, looking in on the small vegetable and food shops. The ten oa€™clock bus into Rome looked like the Kowloon ferry at rush hour, so we opted to walk over to the train station to catch the express run into stazione terminal. At Stazione Terminal, we detrained and walked through the large terminal that connects the surface railways with the two principal subway lines which crisscross underneath Roma. Next, we came upon one of the ancient Italian Monsignors celebrating mass at one of the side chapels. Even the sophisticated stand here quietly unsure of exactly what they are seeing, but respectful of the idea that the remains of so noteworthy a historical figure lay just a few yards away in plain sight. We walked up the nearest boulevard to the Tiber, in search of one of the more storied edifices in Rome, the Castle San Angelo.
We emerged into a small courtyard, at the top of the castle, where a statue of St., Michael the archangel, stands ready to protect all with his sword and shield. On our way down, we espied several small exhibit rooms where huge a€?blunder bussesa€? and small cannon of many sorts lay on exhibit.Their fired lead must have cut down many attacking marauders in ages past. We crossed the Tiber at the Ponte Cavour and walked three blocks over to the Via Corso.We were headed for one of the more spacious and beautiful Piazzas in Rome, the Piazza Del Poppolo.
The Parkland is well cared for and looks like a pleasant spot for Romans to gather on a spring or summera€™s day. We stopped by a station restaurant and bought some wonderful vegetable paninis (sandwiches) for later.
We enjoyed another swim in the hotel pool and then stopped by the hotela€™s atm for another 100 euros. We retrieved our luggage from the bus and stood in line for a brief 20 minutes of check-in procedures. We walked the decks, exploring our ship and enjoyed the lounges, shop areas and the many other nooks and crannies of entertainment and activity spread around the decks.
Deck #11 aft holds a smaller restaurant called the a€?Trattoria,a€? and serves Italian food every night. We met in the Stardust lounge on deck #10 and got tickets for our 10-hour tour of the Tuscan Countryside and the fabled walled city of Siena. As the tour bus careened down the highway, we looked at the pastoral scenes, of groves of olive trees and vineyards, dotting the gently rolling landscape.
Marco walked us from the bus parking area to the Chiesa San Domingo where we met our local guide a€?Rita.a€? She launched into what was to be a colorful and informed narrative of the Sienaa€™s history and development. We walked through the narrow, cobbled streets and admired the well preserved walls and quaint shops that appeared around every turn.
We walked slowly along the medieval streets, admiring the ancient framing and well preserved architecture.
Just next to the Duomo, Rita pointed out an entire area that had been laid out to expand the church. Marco led us to the ancient a€?Spade Fortea€? ristorante, on the periphery of the Piazza, for lunch. We still had time left after lunch, so we walked back to the Duomo and, for 6 euros each, entered the Musee da€™Opera, next to the Duomo.
The bus drove by the walled city of San Gimiano and we caught a glimpse of the open gates of what marco called a a€?medieval disneyland.a€? It looked like a great place to wander when the crowds were less intense.
We dressed for dinner this evening in a€?business attire.a€?It was one of the two a€?formal nightsa€? on the ship. The seas were calm that night and we walked topside, enjoying the night air and each othera€™s company.We never lose sight of how fortunate we are to be with each other in these exotic and interesting locales.
We passed through Recco, a Ligurian center for cooking, and then exited into the a sprawling town of Rappalo for the coastal ride into Santa Margarita, where we would take a small ferry to Porto Fino, the heart of the Italian Riveria. The Castello Brown is everything your imagination could place it to be, sited on the high promontory over a picture book Mediterranean village.
In the quaint village below, we browsed the pricey shops, like Gucci & Ferragamo, noting the breath-taking prices listed in euros.
The Canne waterfront surrounds the marina, a central square, filled with Sycamore trees, and replete with several cafes and their ubiquitous outside tables and chairs. We entered the A-8 Autostrade and drove through Nice and on towards Monaco, some 90 kilometers miles further along the fabled Cotea€™ da€™azur. From quaint and medieval EZE, we descended to the Middle Corniche Road for the picturesque ride into nearby Nice.
From the Palais, Patrick threaded the huge tour bus through the narrow streets, fighting the Easter-morning, Mass traffic. I thought that I had a pretty good command of French, but at moments like these, it seems to desert you.
Pat and John were accompanied by friend Joanne, a retired teacher, Al and his mother Cora, also from celebration Florida and the Two Australians, Mike and Carmen Harchand. Revelry aside, the injury was throbbing insistently, so we returned to our cabin, with my hand elevated in the a€?French salute but with the wrong finger.a€? The seas were running rough this evening, with ten foot swells and 25 knot winds. We passed by the entrance to the Las Ramblas, the broad pedestrian promenade that extends into the city, and continued on.
The first wonder that we passed is Antonio Gaudia€™s a€?Batlo House.a€? Built in 1906, it is several stories high and has a delightful facade of painted ceramic tiles. Next, we passed the Casa Mila, another Gaudi masterpiece, with its distinctive wavy and flowing, tiled facade.
Then, we came to the sanctum sanctorum of architecture, the Cathedral of the Segrada Familia. The four seasons and many other symbols are represented in this flowing montage that is more enormous sculpture than architecture.
Restless, we wandered the decks, met and talked with the Martins and then found a nice photo of ourselves, taken in Sienaa€™s main Piazza, in the photo gallery.
We stopped for a time, in one of the deck ten lounges, and read our books, enjoying the quiet mode of the ship at sea. We walked topside, enjoying as always the collage of sun, sea and sky, as we knifed through the rolling swells.
The Devonshire spread ( as in butt the size of) still engulfed us, so we did another five laps around the deck # 7 promenade. What we knew by 1990 about the 1940 dinner was published in Irregular Memories of the a€™Thirties.
In this the first of the BSJa€™s revived Christmas Annuals (a pleasant custom begun by Edgar W. January 30, 1940, was a golden evening, an evening of a€?entertainment and fantasya€? as Edgar W. Finally, after a Great Hiatus of nearly four years, plans were made a€” than to the imminent publication of 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes a€” for another BSI Annual Dinner, the first since 1936. I had been planning to take a two weeks' holiday in the south toward the end of the month, but in view of this epic occasion, I have now changed my plans, and shall be leaving on January 12, and returning on the 29th.
Please inform the undersigned promptly of your intention to attend so that the Gasogene and the Tantalus may make accurate plans. And on January 30, 1940, the Baker Street Irregulars gathered for their annual dinner once more. The first order of business under the Constitution was the drinking of the canonical toasts. There is also extant a letter from Steele to Vincent Starrett about this drawing, quoted in the previously cited unpublished memoir by Steelea€™s son Robert: a€?I had an absurdly hard struggle with my Sherlock. This was also the first time the Baker Street Irregulars met at the Murray Hill Hotel, where the BSI dinners would continue to be held a€” cocktails in Parlor F, dinner and program in Parlor G a€” until the New York landmark was finally torn down in the late a€™Forties, to be great regret of many sentimental people.
The 1940 dinner might not have included every Irregular of that era with whom one would wish to dine, but it was a fine list nonetheless. Denis Conan Doyle was the eldest son of Sir Arthura€™s second marriage (his mother, Lady Conan Doyle, would pass away later in the year), and Trustee of a very active literary Estate indeed.
He went on to describe how, in the lore of the Irregulars, Doyle is pictured as a struggling young physician, delighted at the chance to a€?peddlea€? the cases his friend Dr.
Certainly one would love to have been a fly on the wall that night, or, even better, archy the cockroach darting among the drinks on the table, to hear Denisa€™s charming discourse, and all the other scholarship and tomfoolery that transpired that night, the first BSI dinner in four long years. Meanwhile, and with 221B still rolling off the presses, I am sending you a first very rough-and-ready copy of the Gazetteer which you have egged me on, from time to time, to write. I hope things are going well for you, and again let me say that your absence was a matter of very genuine regret indeed to all of us who look to you as mentor and guide -- to say nothing of your status as sponsor and editor of the Book of the Day.
Re the Gazetteer: I'm inclined to agree with you that it might be extended to advantage by a listing of the more important clubs and restaurants, etc. I imagine we should not too often bring out a volume of ana; the public might easily tire of us.
In his essay in Irregular Memories of the 'Thirties discussing this first BSI anthol-ogy of Writings About the Writings, neither Robert G. So it should be, from someone who (born 1915) had by 1990 long been one of the nationa€™s foremost authorities on Victorian literature and culture. I know of no other such study as the interesting one you suggest, although it is perhaps odd that the idea did not earlier explode in the skull of some devoted Sherlockian. It seems to me more than likely that Doyle wrote that scene in His Last Bow quite deliberately, knowing it for what it was - a friendly para-phrase of the parting between Johnson and Boswell; although it may of course have been subconscious. You have chosen a delightful subject for your thesis; and you will pardon me if I hope that you will treat it not too seriously, but with a touch of humor.
I am leaving Chicago inside of a week, I think, for a voyage around the world; so in closing I must wish you - in my absence - all good luck in your efforts. A few years later, an editor was interested in publishing the essay a€” the best of all possible editors for Sherlockian work, Vincent Starrett himself. The quotation is from Christopher Morleya€™s a€?Notes on Baker Streeta€? in the Saturday Review of Literature, January 28, 1939, not from any letter Starrett received from him.
This independent Sherlock Holmes society had been founded in New York in 1935 by Richard W. Since Morleya€™s letter of December 23, 2939, below was unavailable for Irregular Memories of the a€™Thirties, this reference in Edgar W.
A copy of Morleya€™s letter to Smith below went to Vincent Starrett in Chicago, with the handwritten note: a€?Merry Christmas, Vincenzio. When I was in Chicago a week ago I learned from Vincent Starrett that his book 221-B is actually to be published on January 30. Since Christ Cella's place on 45 Street, where we used to hold meetings, has been modernized and the old upstairs room there no longer exists (he has only a not very attractive cellarage; which makes me think of The Fiend of the Cooperage; do you know it?) I am wondering if the Murray Hill Hotel would not be a singularly pleasant place for the meeting? You yourself would, I hope, perhaps feel inclined to present a proceeding of some sort; I mean a few remarks on the Obliquity of the Ecliptic, or whatever may be momently on your mind. Just for the fun of starting trouble, I am sending a copy of this both to Starrett and to Harold Latham of Macmillan; who will I'm sure see to it that each convive gets a presentation copy of the Book. I hope I may assume that like Peterson the commissionaire, or No, it was Henry Baker, you are carrying a white goose and walking with a slight stagger. Beginning in 1945, Titular Investitures were conferred at the annual dinners to denote membership in the BSI. That it was the first one Smith prepared is indicated by a letter to Christopher Morley dated three days later (November as the month, in Irregular Memories of the a€™Thirties, p.
There are forty-eight names on the somewhat woolly list, below, and they bear some analysis, following Miss Mouillerata€™s cover letter.
The other names on Smitha€™s list are familiar ones, though some of them are surprises to see here.
Members by 1935, according to Morley's list that year: Ronald Mansbridge, Harrison Martland, John Sterling, Lawrence Williams. Ones who came into the BSI at the 1940 dinner: John Connolly, Peter Greig, Howard Haycraft, James Keddie (his son James Jr. A few more details about some of these Irregulars of the a€™30s and a€™40s can be provided now, for the record. Of other names on this list, Harold Latham was, as we have seen, Trade Editor at the Macmillan Company responsible for publishing 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes. This was a 1940 collection of essays by Vincent Starrett, published by Random House, with an a€?Unconventional Indexa€? by Christopher Morley.
More serious still, two more toasts stipulated by our Constitutional ar-rangements are absent altogether, and missing ever since. As to The Second Most Dangerous Man: The query about his identity was a€” as Bill Hall will tell you a€” the original, first, quickie, abbreviated examination for eligibility to membership in the pre-natal Baker Street club. Resting imposingly on the long table at which the BSI dined on January 30, 1940, was an a€?orthodox coal-scuttle,a€? authentically Victorian, which James P. The coal box was an ornament, and in it were stored such details of fireside comfort as slippers, unread magazines and so forth. Although Keddie was a contributor to 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes, he came close to missing the 1940 dinner until Morley unearthed his address barely ten days before.
Because of money, and his second wifea€™s health, Vincent Starrett never made it back to New York for a BSI dinner after the one in 1934. Bill Halla€™s copy bears the affectionate raspberry Christopher Morley often sent his old frienda€™s way.
It also bears the notation a€?$5.00 casha€? which was probably the true cost of the evening. The pattern followed by the BSI for quite a few years thereafter, of oysters (a€?shall the world be overrun bya€?), pea soup (as in London fog), curried chicken (minus one ingredient as served in a€?Silver Blazea€?), and a sweet, was set by Christopher Morley whose handwritten draft of the printed menu has survived. The quotation from this letter, taken from an article by the artista€™s son, was incomplete. Meanwhile, Starrett was already building a new Sherlock Holmes collection, with a big start in August 1940 from Logan Clendening. When this was written in 1990, the hope was that Sir Arthur Conan Doylea€™s sur-viving child, Dame Jean, might come to New York for a BSI dinner. All this within your ear; but the circumstances being what they are, you will understand why I can't be any place but Reno on January 30.
I could and would, of course, if the dinner were postponed, keep you posted as to developments, and the probable time I should be free to make a New York visit.
My brother Felix has a subtle scheme which he will bring direct from the State Department in Washington.
The errata slip in 221B, as by Jane Nightwork, reads: a€?In the unavoidable absence of the Editor, a volunteer hand must call attention to the curious incident of what the Proofreader did in the night-time. Everybody is too pooped this morning to be able to give you any intelligible report but I must let you know at once that the evening was a grand success in every way.
The only sadness is that I intended to have a copy signed for you by all those present, and in the general uproar this did not get done.
Since you seem not to have heard the news, I am sending this by pony express so that you may know at once that the Irregulars met, feasted, d---k, and thought of you. Denis Conan Doyle made a neat little address in which he stuck to the tradition of the Irregulars and told us about his father's acquaintance with Holmes. Of course Christopher himself in person (but he WAS a moving picture!) was the glowing heart of the nebulae.
And, by the way, I think having vindicated Watson in the matter of the coal scuttle, it now behooves me to vindicate him in the Persian Slipper. BOOKS ALIVE: Man, oh man, WHAT a title, and doubly good for your book because none has a greater faculty for bringing books ALIVE than you.
I was glad to get your note of February 27th, and to learn from it that you may be coming back East soon. Since the first draft of the Gazetteer, I have added about 150 more names - still without resorting to bars or theatres - but more important, I have fallen in with Dr.
Who the members were of the Irene Adler Division with which Christopher Morley and other Irregulars convened immediately following the BSI dinner in New York is a mystery, however. For many years, it was believed that BSI dinner photographs commenced after World War II, with the one of the 1946 dinner. So it was a surprise when James Keddiea€™s letter above referred to a dinner photo, and a thrill when a print turned up in the hands of Mary Hazard, daughter-in-law of the late Irregular whose it had been: Harry Hazard, a solver of the Sherlock Holmes Crossword in 1934. But to confound us, in the photograph are at least two men whose names are not in Smitha€™s minutes: William C. None of the seven surviving copies of 221B I have seen bears all the signatures of everyone we can say was at the dinner. Comparing signatures in one copy of 221B after another makes for further confusion Some men seem to have stayed glued to their seats throughout the signing session, as the copies of Starretta€™s book made their way around the table, while others seem to have gotten up and roamed around the room, signing one copy here, another copy there. Three particular signatures appear as a trio in one copy after another a€” James Keddie, Edgar W.
Bill Vande Water has picked up where Harry Hazard left off, and carried on with his typical valiant job of assigning names to faces, but a few remain unidentified.
The photograph a€” Ia€™ve been having enormous fun, showing my friends what I looked like nearly sixty years ago. I was also given a bit of a nudge by Archie Macdonell, who founded the first Sherlock Holmes Society in England in June 1934. I remember David Randall, and discussion of the cash value of certain Sherlock Holmes first editions. The man who got me started in all this Sherlock Holmes stuff was not present at the dinner.
We accept questions in the inbox from multi-gender attracted women and nonbinary people who are victims or survivors. One of the things people get overwhelmed with is they try to find one thing that helps everything- and that isn’t how it works. Things like laying out outfits and prepreparing meals can go a long way in terms of making break downs easier. There are a couple of things on the masterlist that cover various bits- but it’s important to recognize that self care is a very broad term.
It can be just as traumatizing in the end if you’re merely forcing yourself to do it because you think that you have to. Recognizing the pain that trauma has caused in your life, and your right to feel that pain. It is when you reach out and talk to other survivors, or in your interactions with the media and other day to day life events. It’s something that can be done in therapy, can be done by going to poetry events, done by doing support groups, talking with friends, doing art, through reclaiming things that once triggered you. All passengers casually look up at a large electronic tote board that lists gate assignments.
I could see the white cliffs of Dover as we crossed over the English channel and flew across to France. It seems that they had left an entire baggage cart, from our flight, at Heathrow during one of the a€?beat the clock a€? scenarios.
Sounds of French, Italian, Spanish and several other languages swam around our ears as we sat musing about where we were. At the top of the steps, we crossed a small terrace and looked down into the elegant rubble that is the remains of the Roman Forum.
Its several tiers, all filled with open arches, even now reminds me of the many sports arenas we had visited. Then, we set out over the very pricey Via Condotti, browsing the windows of Bvlgari, Gucci, Ferragamo and a score of other trendy shops.
We were tempted to enter the a€?Tre Scalinia€? and order a€?Tartuffo,a€? that wonderful roman delight that is a€?fried ice cream,a€? but passed on the opportunity in the interests of fitting into our clothes. We wandered the back alleys, consulting our trusty map and once asking a merchant for directions.The trouble with asking questions in passable Italian is that the hearer assumes you speak the language fluently and rattles off a response in rapid fashion.
We showered and prepped for the day.NCL was putting on a buffet breakfast in the hotel for the early cruise ship passengers. Three hundred and fifty cruise passengers had booked a few days in Rome and were expected this morning.
We sought out and found the a€?Aa€? line that would take us up to the Vatican and the Chiesa San Pietro (St.
We could see the walls of Vatican city up ahead of us and the huge dome of Saint Petera€™s against the skyline.
Petera€™s held a long line of pilgrims, school children on holiday and other penitents from the four corners of the globe. We were debating where we would head next, when we noticed that the line had lessened for St. Petera€? stand in their wooded splendor, for all the world like an outsized throne for some race of giants. We sat through the mass understanding much and received communion, saying a prayer for Brothera€™s Paddya€™s repose. I said a brief prayer for all of those whom we had lost and moved on to the marbled hallway. It is a circular and high walled fortress that has served in different eras as a castle for the Caesara€™s, a prison, a church and now a stone monument to antiquity. A small pile of stone cannonballs lay next to what must have been the remains of a medieval catapult, used to bomb the attackers with.
A few tug boats and a single scull, powered by a lone oarsman, were all that broke the surface of this venerable and storied river.
We slowly climbed the winding steps, to its heights, noting the occasional bum sleeping in the park bushes.
We walked along the parkway, dodging the odd service truck, and admired the imposing bulk of the Villa Borghese, sitting on a hill above us. A group of Spanish school kids were singing happy birthday to one of their group amidst much laughter. I signed up for an hour with the hotels internet station ( 20 euros) and sent a number of messages to friends and relatives across the ether of cyberspace. Then, we settled in with paninis, chips,acqua minerale con gassata and a good bottle of Chianti, while we read our books and got ready to join The Norwegian Dream for an itinerary we had long anticipated. On deck #12, aft, we found the a€?Sports Bara€? a small buffet-style restaurant that served all three meals daily. Like all liners, the boat is equipped with motorized, ocean-going tenders that are wholly enclosed and hold up to 128 passengers when full.
It was followed with a nice spinach salad, a grilled tuna steak and a delightful cannolli and decaf cappuccino. Its most famous Saint, Catherine of Siena, had been a dominican nun who was a a€?close associatea€? of the reigning pope in Avignon. Then, we walked into the small piazza that holds the most prized treasure in Siena, the Duomo Santa Maria da€™ Assumption.
We fell in with and enjoyed the company of two colorful residents of Celebration, Florida, Pat and John McGoldrick, former Beantown (Boston) residents and fellow Irish Americans. Ensconced within are all of the original statuary and murals from the exterior of the church.As the marble became worn, throughout the centuries, artisans had replicated the original statuary and remounted them on the facade.
We elected to choose again the Trattoria for dinner, where we were seated with Ray and Sarah from Atlanta. Geographically, the rocky headland of Porto Fino separates the gulfs of Tivuglio and Paradisio. We enjoyed the colorful front street of nice hotels, shops and restaurants, as we exited the bus in the rain. The harbor area rings a small marina, with wonderful sailing yachts scattered amidst the smaller craft. Christiana took us through the commercial center of Genoa , stopping at the central a€?Piazza venti septembre, 1870a€? which commemorates the date of the Italian unification. A light rain and a 42 degree chill greeted us, as we stood topside to watch the Dream get underway. The Mediterranean Sea sparkled a dazzling blue against the bright sun and lighter blue of the sheltering sky. Francois Grimaldi, the founder of the line, came to the area in 1297, with a small army of soldiers, all disguised as monks.
We followed a nicely trimmed walkway to the a€?Rochea€? (rock) area, so named because it had literally been carved from the cliffside rock.
The crenelated battlement of the original castle had been added to over the generations to produce an odd hybrid. Along the roadside, at several intersections, sit scale, bronzed models of Le Mans race cars, denoting the world famous auto race that roars through the streets of Monaco every May. We skipped breakfast and had coffee topside, admiring the Marseilles harbor and the surrounding mountains, in the bright, Easter-morning sun.
It is now the second largest city and largest commercial port in France, with one million people living in the metropolitan area. We set off from the port area, stopping first at the a€?Old Cathedrala€? in the a€?vieux port a€? area of the harbor.
A score or so of fishermen were minding stalls that sold fresh fish, everything from whole squid and lobsters, to eels. The kind and elderly woman, perhaps a nun in mufti, helped clean the wound, put antiseptic ointment on it and dressed it in gauze. The city had erected three separate, exterior walls, for defensive purposes, as the city evolved over the centuries. Unfortunately , Antonio Gaudi was killed, in a traffic accident, at a young age and construction was interrupted.
Built for a 1929 world exposition, this elegant structure and plaza is now an art museum. The theme for the evening was a€?American Presidents and their favorite foods.a€? We chose a Gerald Ford, Norwegian, salmon appetizer. It revived the BSI after four years of dormancy, and ushered in a new era at the Murray Hill Hotel. Smith in the 1950s, but lost along the way), we begin by reprinting the account of the 1940 BSI dinner which appeared in Irregular Memories of the a€?Thirties. I didn't get a blue carbuncle, or, for that matter, did I even get a goose - but the day was a very pleasant one notwithstanding. The date crept up very quickly, and when I finally reached Earle Walbridge yesterday, to look over the proofs of my section, I found a number of errors which it is now probably too late to correct, since Miss Prink at Macmillans tells me the binding has already started.
There being no Goldini's or Marcini's available, the Murray Hill Hotel seems to meet the necessities next best. Anything I can do toward contributing to the preparations for the event I shall therefore have to undertake during the next two weeks. The errors will probably be discernible only to the inner circle of the cognoscenti, and to those select few they can easily be explained away. Shortly afterward, Edgar Smith a€” now the BSIa€™s Buttons, an extra-Constitutional office later to be superceded by the grander and rolling title of Buttons-cum-Commissionaire a€” sent out to those on the mailing list he had received from Christopher Morley some minutes of the annual dinner. Revision of this constitutional requirement was, however, adopted, viva voce, and amendment to the Constitution hereby imposed, in that it is required hereafter that the toast shall not be canonical but Conanical.
Christopher Morley announced that the meeting, which was held as usual on a date at variance with the constitutional specification, had been called to celebrate the publication by Macmillans of 221B - a compilation of the writings of various members of the Society. Vincent Starrett, whose unfortunate absence from the meeting can be compared only with the intolerable absence of Mrs. We are able to reproduce opposite the appropriately fanciful menu of the evening a€” it initiated a custom of oysters, pea soup, curried chicken, and a sweet which was observed by the BSI for many years (until, Robert G. I tore up two or three attempts to do it from an old drawing, finally put on my old dressing gown and posed for it in the mirror.a€? And in a letter to Edgar Smith dated December 13, 1942, Christopher Morley wrote: a€?Would Freddy Steele like to design a menu card or would we use again the one he did years ago? Located at 41st and Park Avenue in Manhattana€™s Murray Hill district, the venerable hotel had seen better days by the time the Baker Street Irregulars arrived in 1940, but it captured and preserved the atmosphere of Victorian London far better than any other possibility in New York at that time (let alone today). In the United States on Estate business, making Sherlock Holmes publishing and radio and motion picture deals, and doing some lecturing on his fathera€™s Spiritualist cause as well, he had been invited to the BSI dinner by Christopher Morley.
Smith, prominent Sherlockian and secretary, or a€?Buttons,a€? as he is called, of the Irregulars, informed this writer that the trouble began several years back, when Denis Conan Doyle attended a Baker Street dinner in New York. He added that it was probably the highest compliment ever paid in the history of literature. Hudson to sit down at a meeting of the Baker Street Irregulars and to count you among the missing. It isn't as comprehensive a thing as I had thought it might be -- perhaps I should add hotels and clubs and restaurants to the list of countries, U.S.
Altick wrote his paper on Holmes and Johnson as an undergraduate at Franklin & Marshall College in Lancaster, Pa. Certainly I shall be happy to have a copy of your paper - entire - and I trust that you are right in believing it to be publishable. I am sorry you had to wait so long for an acknowledgment of your MS - which I received, read, and enjoyed. I had thought that he was sent to China by the Chicago Tribune as its Far Eastern correspondent. The photograph below is of the lobby, looking past the reception desk and grand staircase at the corridor which led to the private meeting rooms.
Smith, eager for the BSI to convene again for what would be his first annual dinner, had suggested the Murray Hill Hotel as an appropriate place. We could have one of their private dining rooms, which are so entirely in the Baker Street manner and decor.
I might tell you that the addresses may not be 100% correct, but I think you will find them O. Smith is about the busiest person on earth at the moment, although he has taken time out to read your new book BOOKS ALIVE which he thinks is excellent. Warren Force, Harry Hazard, Harvey Officer, Allan Price, Harrison Reinke, Stuart Robinson, and Earle Walbridge. Since Smith was working from a list supplied by Morley a€” Woollcotta€™s name was on the 1935 list, but crossed off on the only copy surviving to be printed in the September 1960 Baker Street Journal a€” we must wonder about the legend of Woollcott cast out into utter darkness after crashing the 1934 dinner, and publishing his mocking account of it in The New Yorker. In a letter to Morley on May 10, 1939, discussing the progress of 221B, Vincent Starrett mentioned that a€?Incidentally, Ia€™ve included tentatively Woollcotta€™s bit on the Gillette dinner in 1934, from the New Yorker, as a sort of pendant to Fred Steelea€™s contribution from the same journal, which mentions the dinner. It was not until 1945 that any of the original Pips a€” Gordon Knox Bell, Richard Clarke, Owen Frisbie, Norman Ward, and Frank Waters a€” began to attend the BSIa€™s dinners. Starrett later used the title for his bookmana€™s column in the Chicago Tribune, which appeared Sundays for some twenty-five years.
In the first place, they were declared no longer canonical but Conanical a€” Christopher Morleya€™s whimsical way of tipping his hat to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in his son Denisa€™s presence.
When, in the course of luncheon at Christ Cellaa€™s or elsewhere, some acquaintance would hear about the Sherlock Holmes society and ask how to get in, he would be asked a€?Who was the Second Most Dangerous Man in London?a€? If he could answer that one, he might get asked others if anybody present wanted to ask them. That was getting late to make plans to attend, apologized Morley; but Keddie made it nonetheless. On the occasion of the 1940 dinner, however, the editor of 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes was not even in Chicago, a mere overnight run on the 20th Century Limited to New York. Smitha€™s minutes say that a€?The meeting voted simultaneously to send greetings and a fully autographed copy of the book to Mr. This meeting was held to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Sherlock Holmesa€™s first appearance in American ink (Lippincotta€™s Magazine, February 1890).a€? Not a great way to sell copies of the real reason for the 1940 dinner, Vincent Starretta€™s 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes a€” especially since lack of funds had forced Starrett to sell that superb collection of his the year before! Dame Jean Conan Doyle did not share her brothersa€™ antipathy toward the Baker Street Irregulars, and in fact was pleased to accept membership in 1991.
Keddie, a publisher of his as well, at the company where he was vice-president, took it upon himself each year to write Starrett a report of the dinner. On January 30, barring accidents, I shall be four weeks along in a Reno residence of six, in an effort to procure a divorce which will enable me to marry Ray. Indoctrinated students will deduce that (by an innocent misunderstanding) a portion of this work was set from unrevised copy, and this first edition will remain identifiable by a number of irregularities, notably in Mr Edgar Smitha€™s valuable concordance. However, it was signed by several at a most successful meeting of the Irene Adler division or Ladies' Auxiliary held immediately after the dinner.
Copies of 221-B were distributed and autographed more or less by all present, and a jolly good time was H. Now, as Holmes has pointed out, Curry is an excellent disguise for the taste of opium, and (you remember) would be the logical flavor to use in food into which opium was to be introduced.
He said that his father had known Holmes very intimately, and he even went so far as to say that Holmes's mental processes had influenced his father's thinking.
He also suggested that only Hitler could have written the impetuous and irresponsible letter which caused all the trouble.
Julian Wolff, who made a couple of neat little maps of spots in the stories about a year ago (I asked him at the time to send copies to you), and he is doing a bang-up job with London, England, the Continent and the world - creations that will be well worth framing and hanging. I had photostats made of it, and am sending you a copy herewith, in case you haven't seen it. And none have been found from 1941 through 1945, though some pictures were taken by others at the BSIa€™s special Trilogy Dinner at the Murray Hill Hotel on March 30, 1944. Christopher Morley (still beardless at this time) is at the head of the table, in black tie, leaning to catch something Frederic Dorr Steele is saying to him. Absent from all seven are the signatures of Elmer Davis, Malcolm Johnson, and Warren Jones, all of whose names are in Smitha€™s minutes. Smith took on the work of Buttons in January 1940, sending out dinner invitations to the rather casual list of members Christopher Morley provided, and preparing minutes afterward, it was all new to him. His name appears in Smitha€™s minutes, but his signature does not in any of the seven surviving copies of 221B. Some names do not appear on either the 1935 or 1940 membership lists, and we will not see them again after this night. Yet one man there a€” the man with the dapper mustache, raising a wine-glass in salute a€” is still in the ranks. Of course no one of my generation can forget the overwhelming, all-pervading atmosphere of the Depression, the atmosphere of fear, fear for onea€™s job, fear for all onea€™s friends, half of whom were out of work.


My friend Basil Davenport, the one man I knew who literally lived in a garret, in the depths of the Depression, supporting himself by writing for that same Saturday Review of Literature a€” precariously, because the Saturday Review didna€™t always have the money to pay contributors. The idea is to help you return to a neutral state- not have you swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other. There is physical self care, emotional self care, spiritual self care, all of these things.
Anything that exposes you to either the trauma, or the trauma after effects is a chance to process what happened. One of the absolute best things that you can do is to expose yourself to many different choices, many different journeys, and pick and choose the bits and pieces that seem like they’d work best for you.
Everyone has a different pace, everyone has a different path and the best thing you can do is keep your eyes a head and do what’s best for you. We had finished packing the evening before, so we had time to stop at a nearby restaurant and had bagels and coffee, while reading the paper. Traffic was light, at the peace bridge and on the Queen Elizabeth Expressway, so we breezed into Torontoa€™s Pearson airport in 90 minutes, well in time for all of us to relax and check in for our afternoon flights. The plane was a€?sro,a€? every seat was filled.A few of the piccolo mostro (little monsters) squawked a bit during the flight but it went quickly enough. The neatly outlined farms, of the French country side, flashed below us in a well ordered array. Once, this small area had been graced with rows of gleaming white marble structures, the business, commerce and affairs of much of the western world had been waged here daily. We dodged their insistent sales pitches and walked out onto the Via Imperiali, walking towards the Vittorio Emmanuel II monument.
The fascination of Rome is that you stumble upon these grand and ancient monuments so casually when you turn a street corner. We were headed in the distance towards the Fiume Tiber and the Piazza Navona, another famous gathering place and site of three majestic Bernini fountains.
We smiled, strained to understand and thanked the man for a€?su aiutoa€? (his help) As a parenthetical, I dona€™t know that we have ever found a people as gracious, patient and willing to help as we have the Italians. It has classic greek columns in the front and a large dome that has at its center and open a€?occulia€? that lets light enter the dimly lit church. You got so your ear could hear them approach and you knew you had to run like hell to get out of their way. We relaxed in the room, wrote up our notes and then went for an invigorating swim in the hotela€™s pool. Four blocks over, we spilled into one of the most famous squares in the modern world.The Piazza San Pietro was already crowded with pilgrims by mid morning. We walked about the piazza enjoying the semi-circle of the grand columns with their statues of popes and saints standing atop them.
A line was gathered near a tombed figure with an open, glass side, so we stood patiently in line to see what drew the attention. The frescoes on the walls, the gilded and painted windows and the wealth of two thousand years held us in awe.
I figured a mass and a lighted candle at the Vatican might give him some juice in the far beyond. For 5 euros each, we entered and walked around the inside periphery of this two thousand year old castle. Off the courtyard lies a circular verandah that overlooks all of Rome.We sat for a bit and enjoyed the view, then found a tiny cafe where we had a cappuccino with other pilgrims who visiting the fortress. We retraced our path, down the circular ramp, and exited onto the esplanade along the Tiber, replete with cadres of africans hawking all manner of souvenirs. It is a functioning museum, with a collection of intersting sculptures and art works, but we were tiring with the day and wanted to push on.
A swirl of languages provided an auditory bath for our ears, as we walked amid the crowds, enjoying the life and laughter of so many around us.
We had to ask how the Italian key board works, to find the ampersand symbol that is used in e-mail addresses. The lobby was awash with businessmen, attending some conference or other, and hundreds of other cruise-ship passengers wandering about.
The surrounding countryside was devoted mainly to agriculture, with many vineyards running along the coast. The papal states took possession of the harbor in the 14th century and it had evolved into the chief commercial port of Rome during unification in 1870.
We stood in our orange life vests, with whistle and water activated light, and listened patiently to the crew member assigned to us. It is our custom, when cruising, to have a drink at the topside bar and watch the ship leave port. We were seated at a small table for two and ordered a bottle of Meridian Merlot from a Ukranian wine steward named a€?Igor.a€? We exchanged several comments in Russian and enjoyed the conversation with him. Siena is south and east of Florence, a beautiful city of art and culture that we had already visited and enjoyed on a previous trip. We stopped in the Piazza Tolomei, the home of the aforementioned banking syndicate, Monte Dei Pasche.
Finished in the late 1300a€™s, this Romanesque, white and green striped, marble epiphany, with roseate trim, is impressive. A lively lunch, well seasoned with several flagons of the local Chianti, consisted of pasta and mushrooms in sauce, asparagus risotto, (no carne for four), cheese, green beans and salad,finished off with a ricotta cheese desert that was wonderful and accompanied throughout with aqua frizzante.
Looking at these originals gives you an appreciation for the odd seven hundred years that the place had been around. A huge, victory-arch framed three floral gardens that are dedicated to Christobal Colon (Columbus) and his three ships on their voyage of discovery to the Americas in 1492.
The lights, of the whole amphitheater of Genoa, were twinkling in the dark as we eased from the harbor and set off Westward along the Ligurian Coast. We drove down the grand boulevard, Avenue Crossette and viewed the huge hotels, the site of the international film festival and even a statuesque column to the emperor, Napoleon.
They attacked the surprised Genoese defenders and overwhelmed them, taking possession of the area and declaring it the Principality of Monaco.
We walked along the Boulevard San Martin, passing two pricey homes that housed the royal daughters, and stopped to visit the Church of the Immaculate Conception.
Reluctantly, we left the a€?Rochea€? area, with its palace and fairy tales, and returned to the bus.
We parked at another huge garage and took the elevators and escalators up to a small plaza that houses the Monaco Opera house. Parked out front today, were an Aston Martin, two lamberghinia€™s, several Jaguars, the odd couple of lesser Mercedes and a row of other luxury cars, with an attendant to watch over them.
Czar Nicholas of Russia, and Queen Victoria of England, and scores of lesser roalty, had been frequent visitors to the area. It is of green and white striped marble construction, like the church in Siena, but much less ornate. We watched as several fishermen worked around their small fishing dories, cleaning and mending nets. By now, I was recovering a bit and managed to remember enough French to thank her and say that she was a€?very kind for helping me.a€? I kept my hand elevated, in a position of a€?The french salute, but with the wrong finger,a€? as we walked around the grounds of the cathedral. Was this not the land from whence the phrase had originated a€?waiting for Godot?a€? We stopped by the a€?slop chutea€? for a salad and then sat topside for a bit, admiring the harbor on such a bright and sunny day. Mary took over the job of transcribing my travel notes and agreed to take notes on the next few days tours, until I could manage to grip a pen well enough to write. Portions of all three still existed and had been added to architecturally over the years in something the guide called a€?architectural lasagna.a€? It is a nIce turn of phrase. The a€?newer sectionsa€? of Barcelona are laid out in a geometrical grid, with broad boulevards and more green spaces.
The streets in the area have ornamental wrought iron lamp posts and the buildings are adorned with ornate metal floral designs. Originally planned as a 60 residence housing project for the wealthy, only two homes were ever built. It is flanked by a lovely parkland that stretches along the edge of this hillside and looks out over the city and harbor. We squeezed into a table with two charming Southern Belles from Kentucky, Sandy and JoQuetta.
We were bouncing messages off satellites, all over the world, and in instant communication with friends five thousand miles away. If you could go back in time to attend just one BSI dinner from years gone by, which one would it be? It was a publication party for the first BSI anthology of Writings About the Writings, Vincent Starretta€™s 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes, with most of its contributors present that night.
Mistakes can be corrected, assumptions confirmed, missing passages filled in, and hitherto-unsuspected aspects revealed. Starrett could be excused for overlooking it, since he had been out of the country at the time, on an extended tour of duty.
The changes I would have made are of a rather minor character, and probably if it were not my own child I would not be conscious of the few warts that disfigure it. Our dearly beloved public won't know Staphonse from Staphouse (if that's not in the eight pages) and even if they do find ground for pinning us down, the controversy might actually be profitable.
I hope everything comes out satisfactorily, and that you will be East again before too long. It was the first of an unbroken series of annual minutes prepared by Smith through 1960, the year of his death. A copy of the book, presented with the compliments of the publishers, was put at each place.
Cecil For(r)rester, who expressed his sympathy and pledged his assistance in the Society's research in the matter of his ancestral relations with a certain governess. Harris says, the Irregulars meeting every January, at Cavanagha€™s by then, grew so many for the room, that diners no longer had the elbow-room to wield an oyster fork).
His talk that evening, Morley reported in writings reprinted earlier in this volume, was a€?probably the most charming discourse to which we have listened.a€? Later, though, as Morley also observed, Denis Conan Doyle (not to mention his sometimes volcanic younger brother Adrian) came to regard the BSI as some sort of conspiracy dedicated to usurping their fathera€™s reputation and accomplishments.
Very different from Woollcott, he wrote in a vein of decorous modesty asking if he could be put on the waiting list and offered to undergo any sort of inquest of suitability. In every respect but this the dinner at the Murray Hill Hotel last week was a roaring success, and the book -- however it may ride the seas -- was properly launched. Altick is the author of many books, including the evocatively titled Victorian Studies in Scarlet in 1972.
How he came to write to Vincent Starrett in Chicago, he no longer remembers, but from his papers at Franklin & Marshall come these two letters from Starrett, who encouraged him, commented on his paper, and saved it until 221B came along as a convenient outlet a few years later. It seems to me that you have made out an excellent case and I hope you may find an editor who will publish the paper. It was, instead, a trip around the world of his own, paid for by the sale of his 1935 novel The Great Hotel Murder to the movies.
Unable to identify Latham, I offered a complimentary copy of the next volume of BSI History to anyone who could. I propose that you and I appoint ourselves a committee, perhaps together with Harold Latham of the Macmillan Company, to arrange this matter. It isna€™t so hot, in my opinion a€” only about 400-500 place names, and many of the richest ones not geographical at all. Just as soon as he gets a little breathing spell he is planning to write you a lengthy epistle. His paper a€?The Creator of Holmes in the Flesha€? reads as if it had originally been a talk a€” perhaps at the a€™36 dinner, about which we have few details. Warren Force (died 1959) was in the tar business a€” founder and chairman of the Hydrocarbon Products Company, Inc., and a director and the treasurer of the Tar Distilling Company and Old Colony Tar Company at the time of his death. The Five Orange Pips had been founded in 1935 independently of the BSI, perhaps in blissful ignorance of its existence; and for ten years they regarded the BSI as the lesser body.
Leavitt, BSI by way of the Grillparzer Club well before 1934, railed about it to Julian Wolff many years later, when Wolff had succeeded Smith as the BSIa€™s Commissionaire. An uncle of mine who must have been a contemporary of Watson in Edinburgh continued to put the sundries of his evening comfort in the coal box a€” which never had held coal a€” until his death a few years ago. He was across the prairies and over the Rockies in Reno, Nevada, in the process of getting a divorce from his first wife, Lillian Hartsig, in the days when six weeksa€™ residence in a€?The Biggest Little City in the Worlda€? was the quickest way. Starrett, an action which, in the preoccupations which ensued, was probably not accomplished.a€? But other Irregularsa€™ copies did make the rounds of the table. Steelea€™s hand was steady, but some signatures show signs of having been inscribed a few rounds of drinks later. I tore up two or three attempts to do it from an old drawing, finally put on my old dressing gown and posed for it in the mirror.a€? The parenthetical passage which had been missing held the clue.
Randall hoped to resell it intact to someone, perhaps a library where it would be available for scholarly use, but in 1943 finally offered it up piecemeal.
Latham writes me from Macmillan that he will see that a complimentary copy goes to everyone. I carried a coal scuttle of the Baker Street variety to New York, and it was placed in triumph, and, I hope, in complete vindication of Watson's reporting, in the middle of the table - we kept the cigars in it. And, yes, I'll hang on to the remaining two chapters I have and use them (I am sure) before your book goes into print. We are thinking of putting out the Gazetteer together about June 1st, as a private effort, illustrated with reductions of these maps, which would really touch it off.
This was his first BSI dinner and he was meeting virtually all these men for the first time that night. Ronald Mansbridge was born in England in 1905, attended Cambridge University, and came to the United States in 1928 to teach at Barnard College. 6, sitting next to my old friend Basil Davenport, who has another old friend of mine, Peter Greig, on his right. When I arrived in New York in 1928, I had a letter of introduction to Chris from Sheldon Dick, whom I knew at Corpus, Cambridge. I missed that one, but I happened to follow Archie on a trip across America, about a week behind him, staying at some of the same hotels.
Basil was too proud to accept money from a rich aunt Juliet; but he did let her pay his membership dues at the Yale Club, which he called a€?the most inclusive club in New York,a€? and which he liked because he could take their thick correspondence cards and cut them to fit inside his shoes perfectly when the soles wore out. Like so many others, he was hit by the Depression, but made ends meet by doing public relations work for various and sundry. I remember an animated discussion with him once about a book on Horace we had published at Cambridge University Press. Although he didna€™t attend the dinner, he made arrange-ments for copies of 221B: Studies in Sherlock Holmes to be distributed at the dinner. At that instant, the entire passenger compliment, for that flight, drops what they are doing and sprints for the assigned gate, some as far as a 15 minute walk away. Then, the Italian Alps crowded the skyline.They are hills of the craggy and black granite variety, much like our own Rocky Mountains. The line was long and passengers were annoyed,some engaging in delightful histrionics, replete with loud voices and wild gestures. My minds eye could picture the parade of legions and cornucopia of other traffic that had passed this way before us in the 2700 years of Romea€™s history. Now, it took an active imagination to look into the dustbin of history and see what once was mighty Rome. The Coliseum looked majestic, as we looked over our shoulders, like some ancient mirage that would vanish the moment we stopped looking.
We were headed to the most famous meeting spot in all of Rome, The a€?Spanish Steps.a€? They are a series of broad stone stairways that lead from the Piazza Espanga to the five-star Hotel Hassler, once the site of the Villa Medici, with its distinctive twin towers.
We sat in a small park on the Piazza Venezia and looked out over the monument with its huge Italian flags wafting in the afternoon breeze.
It was busy with flight crews coming and going and scores of other travelers from everywhere.The airport location is ideal for weary passengers arriving from all points of the globe. We sat down with a couple from Toronto and had a pleasant conversation.He is a retired fire fighter and she works in food service. Long lines waited to get into the Vatican museum and its moist desired visual prize, the Sistina Chapella (Sistine Chapel). The appeared for all the world like a semi circle of stone hawkers calling forth the faithful to come in and see what was cooking inside. We jumped into line and soon were admitted into the venerable wonder that is the church of St. We scurried over to the entrance to the underground crypt, thankful for the empty bellies of the many pilgrims who now donned the noon feedbag. A long marble hallway, opened every few yards into a grotto with a marble sarcoughogus that housed the remains of another Pope. The stone work had been mended throughout the years, but reflected differing styles of stones and means of repair from the many eras of its menders.
The ornate facade of the Palace of Justice, just up ahead, looks like something from 19th century Paris, in its dirty-gray limestone majesty.
Part of the ancient wall of Rome, with its standing city gate, frames the North side of the piazza.
At its peak, we looked out over the Piazza del Poppolo and enjoyed the view of much of Rome. We found the subway entrance nearby and walked down into the bowels of Rome, to catch the a€?Aa€? train back to the terminal. At 9 A,M, we walked through the lobby and again dined at the buffet breakfast put on by NCL in the hotel.
The cabin was compact, but included a small sitting area, sliding doors onto a balcony and a small bathroom and shower.It was to be our home for the next twelve days. If you ever needed this sucker, in an emergency, it might well pay to know how to hell to get on board the craft.
The powerful tug a€?Eduardo Roacea€? helped nudge the dream in a 180 degree pivot, so she was bow first and able to steam more ably from the congested harbor area.
He was to be one of several of the mostly Phillipino and eastern European wait staff with whom we were to interact. After dinner, we strolled the decks and now open shops (they close when in port) and enjoyed the comings and goings of the passengers in the lounges. The Pisamonte range hemmed the flat coastal plain into a narrow strip of tillable land, where farmers grew large commercial crops of grapes, sunflower seeds, olives and wheat. She had been so venerated by the church, that when the Sienese wanted her body interred in the Chiesa San Domingo, Rome had only sent her head and a finger to be buried there, retaining the rest of her remains for veneration in Rome.
We enjoyed the McGoldricka€™s company and were half lit from the Chianti when we emerged into the central piazza some 90 minutes later.
I am not much taken by religious art, but had to admire the pure artistry in stone so casually laid before us. We were high in the hills and caught pictorial visages of the valleys surrounding Siena, San Gimiano and the nearby towns.
Topside, we looked out and viewed the amphitheater of Genoa, that surrounds the busy commercial port.
A land road now reaches Porto Fino, but in the early part of the century, it had only been accessible by boat, increasing its attraction for those looking to a€?get awaya€? from it all. We saw a sign with an arrow for a€?Castello Browna€? and walked the steep and terraced steps leading above the village. It is impressive enough, but the real treasure, for Americans, is to walk by a simple grave stone, amidst ancient Monagasque royalty, embedded in the floor near the main altar. We were having lunch in a€?La Chaumiere,a€? a picturesque, mountainside restaurant with a killer view of all of Monaco and the mediteranean beyond.
Cap Da€™antibe, and the sparkling blue Mediterranean, are things you could look at all day. Along the waterfront, pricey hotels dominate the grand boulevard for a stretch of seven kilometers.
We much enjoyed the Martina€™s company and talked long enough for us to be the last ones in the Trattoria. We had the option of a full day tour in Provence, but had decided that too many full day tours were wearing us a little thin. Byzantine in style, like sacre Coeur in Paris, it sits on the site of a much older church first established there in 1100 A.D.
Elaborate gates , with decorative iron works guarded the palais.Three marble lions strode atop the impressive gates. It stands high on the summit of a hill, and features a huge gold tinted statue of a€?Notre Dame,a€? Mary, the mother of Christ.
It was the McGoldricks 24th wedding anniversary and we had been looking forward to joining them. My right hand was swollen, black and blue but felt well enough to get through the daya€™s tour. It is apparently the local custom for Godfathers to purchase ornate cakes for their godchildren on this day.
The impression we got was of a very clean and well ordered city, with little graffiti, litter or urban blight. The three other facades of the church are radically different in design, all reflecting the dynamics of the Spanish church and government in different periods of the cathedrals construction. The ship gathered speed and we reluctantly waived farewell to a beautiful and unique city in Catalonia. Calamari, risotto with shrimp, penne pasta, cannoli and decaf cappuccino all accompanied a Mondavi Merlot.
The stitches and wound looked icky, but the tissue was already showing signs it might grow back together. I uncorked a bottle of champagne, that the cruise line had given us, and we toasted our good fortune at being here with each other. The very first, in 1934, when Alexander Woollcott rode across Manhattan in a hansom cab with Vincent Starrett to crash the party? And we can get a glimpse of the magical evening of January 30, 1940, in a BSI dinner photograph a€” apparently the first ever taken a€” which in 1990 we did not know had ever existed. Much new is there: the dinner photo and a key to it, letters from Vincent Starrett, Edgar W. But he went on to implicate Christopher Morley in defense of such a deplorable situation: a€?To quote Mr.
I doubt that time remains to enable the development of an essay on the Obliquity of the Ecliptic, but it is barely possible, if I apply myself assiduously, that I might have ready for confidential distribution for those present, a typewritten copy of the Gazetteer on which I have recently been making fairly decent progress. I was altogether too finicky, anyway, in writing you as I did, and I hope you'll forgive me. The meeting voted spontaneously to send greetings and a fully autographed copy of the book to Mr. There were some veterans of the Three Hours for Lunch Club and the Grillparzer Sittenpolizei Verein, like Frank Henry, Malcolm Johnson, Bill Hall, Mitchell Kennerley, and Robert K.
In my capacity as Buttons, I shall be sending you as sober an account of the evening as I can see my way clear to put together.
Anyway, let me know what you think of it, and how it might be improved, and perhaps for Christmas or some time before I can get my bargain-price printer to put it in type. There was a short session of the Irene Adler division here in Reno, at which I presided - Basil Rathbone being at the Wigwam Theatre in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. He is still at work, and his most recent book, a study of the first ten years of Punch, was published in 1997.
You will be more likely to find one favorable to the idea of publication, I think, if you will abbreviate the essay skillfully; its length just now is against it, I'm afraid. Starretta€™s journey began in the Orient and ended in Europe, with his first visit to London in some years. The suggestion of the Murray Hill, as well as the impetus for the 1940 BSI dinner, came from Christopher Morley. A cost estimate I recently saw for a businessman visiting New York in 1941 gave $3.35 a day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Smith as Buttons communicated with the membership through memoranda to the BSI, sometimes enclosing whatever membership list was current at the time. Bell, who was unaccountably omitted from the list of those invited to last Januarya€™s celebration; and that of Dr. Stolper and Howard Swiggett, respectively a professor of English at Columbia University who scandalized his colleagues by contending that literature should be taught by writers, and a novelist well-known in his day, with links to the New York Police Commissioner, and later to certain cryptic wartime British missions in New York. Leavitt, and Gene Tunney, plus at least one other, non-fiction and mystery writer Hulbert Footner, whose only known connection with the BSI is his name on this 1940 list. Leavitt swore to this version of history in a€?The Origin of 221B Worship,a€? his 1961 memoir of the BSIa€™s early years. Smith eventually coaxed the Pips into the BSI, and then struggled to save them in 1947 when Christopher Morley felt the BSI had grown too large and unruly. Hence the membership of people like Don Marquis, Frank Henry, Bucky Fuller and other friends of Chris Morleya€™s who couldna€™t be annoyed with studying the Sacred Writings. It was, I tell you, an ornamental piece of furniture, and when the fire needed replenishing, the bell-pull at the end of the mantel-piece brought the servant lassie from the kitchen with a cannily measured a€?scuttlea€? of coal, from which the fire was fed with great daintiness and dexterity.
Smith sat next to Keddie at the dinner, and the two men hit it off a€” less than three months later, Smith was in Boston to join the Keddies Sr.
To do so, he and Starrett produced a catalogue still highly desirable for its own sake, both for the many splendid items at what today seem sheer giveaway prices, and for the rich canonical fantasy which Starrett and Randall wrote into it. We will try to keep the actual dinner within the blood royal, but as soon as it has taken place Macmillan can make good boblicity out of it to help the book. Watson, but probably not so well - at least he didn't seem to understand him as well as he did Holmes. Denis Conan Doyle is off to himself a bit in the corner; not intentionally perhaps, but capturing a sense of the remove between the Conan Doyle Estate and the BSI. How well he managed to associate names with faces that evening, when high spirits and hard spirits were the order of the day, is unclear.
A few of them, Irregulars active today were able to know in person before they fell from the ranks. In 1930 he was appointed Cambridge University Pressa€™s representative here, a position he held for forty years. It was clear that he had made quite an impression; at one hotel they asked me whether I wanted whisky for breakfast. Roberts, author of A Note on the Watson Problem, and then Doctor Watson, which Frank Morley at Faber & Faber published. It can be a higher upfront cost in terms of energy, but often times once you get the initial bit out of the way- the return is much greater and much more easily sustained. The Caribbean flights all fly out of Toronto in the early hours of the day and the European flights in the early evening hours. The hills were laden with snow beneath us as we soared over them.They looked cold, jagged and forbidding. We had decided to eat at the Hotela€™s a€?Taverna,a€? rather than risk ramming around the area when we were this tired. We collapsed into a dreamless sleep of crowds, noisy children and the other bugaboos of travel crowding our heads.
We dressed for the day and walked the half mile over to the airport terminal.Throngs of people were scurrying about.
The remaining spaces are crowded by large brick apartment complexes, stretching all along the train line that runs from the airport to Rome. The painted frescoes and saints statues had replaced the many ancient and pagan deities that had once adorned the niches in the walls.
We sat in the Antico cafe and enjoyed a cappuccino, looking out over the ancient Theater Marcello, another gracious ruin where the Caesars had enjoyed theater productions. The train was just about to leave the station, so we sprinted down the track and jumped on board just as the conductor gave the engineer the wave off. Complexes of brick condos and apartments signaled the arrival of the local stations, which we breezed through without stopping. We had already viewed this wonder on a previous visit and were not ungrateful that we didna€™t have to stand in the two-hour long line. He had loomed large in my child hood and now I was here staring at his elegantly clad remains, like some rural Russian first encountering Lenina€™s tomb in Red Square in Moscow. A 60 foot high cliff, with grecian columned buildings, marks the eastern edge of the Villa Borghese and frame much of the remainder of the piazza.
Then, we came upon the top of the Spanish steps and the storied Hotel Hassler and a few other four star and elegant small hotels. The winds were freshening and the waves were splashing high above the seawall, as we glided from port, waving by to Roma until we could return once again. It is from these small range of mountains that the world-famous Cararra marble is quarried. The olive trees took thirty years to mature enough to yield sufficient fruit for a pressing. Many were small walled villages from the middle ages, replete with castle walls, church and bell tower. Nearby Florence and the beautiful walled village of San Gimiano also sit on this road and prospered from the pilgrims and commercial traffic that flowed along its length.
It all sounds a bit grisly to us now, but it was the time-honored custom of the medieval church in Italy. One large center and two smaller flanking triangles, of painted Murano glass, project colorful scenes of the Virgin Mary. The Piazza is cobbled, and slanted to funnel into a flat area just in front of the Siena City Hall. Oysters Rockerfeller, salad, lobster tails and peach cobbler, with merlot and cappuccino, were wonderful. The Norwegian Dream would motor 118 miles North, to Genoa this evening, arriving by early morning. The city is shaped like an alluvial amphitheater and carved from the surrounding mountains, like Naples far to the South.
The bus traversed several large tunnels, through the surrounding mountains, in our passage south to the Ligurian coast. The coastal hills rose steeply, behind the narrow strip of road, as we motored past the Porto Fino headland and coasted towards the small harbor area that is Porto Fino. Bougainvillea and other flowers were in bloom here and gave an aura of color and warmth even in the rain.
Flagons of Chianti and a soft, white wine accompanied fried mushrooms, pasta in pesto sauce, seafood lasagna, fried fish cakes (for the vegetarians.) Strawberries in lemon ice, with Decaf cappuccinos finished this tasty repast.
It is glass walled and occupies three terraces and the entire rear of the ship on deck # 9. It would be a long day for us, so we headed to the cabin to read and retire from another hard day of touristing. The wholea€? countrya€? is carved from the cliffa€™s side, with terraced sections up and down the mountain.
It reads a€?Gratia Patriciaa€? and houses the remains of Philadelphia-born film star, Grace Kelly.
I smiled momentarily, remembering an episode from the Television series, a€?The Sopranos.a€? The main character had unknowingly parroted a remark he hard from his shrink, referring to a€?Captain Tebesa€? as an elegant place to visit.
Across the roadway , from the hotel and along the seaside, run a similar lengthy of beaches. Mary and I reversed course and walked along the marina and haborside, into the main square of Canne. The waiter was too polite to ask us to leave, but I had been thrown out of enough places already to recognize the imminent nature of the a€?buma€™s rush.a€? We made our goodnights and returned to the cabin, to read and relax. The guide wasna€™t doing any hand flips over the architectural style and there didna€™t appear to be any large crowds around on this, an Easter morning.
Andre Dumas, a native of Marseilles, had written the a€?Man in the Iron maska€? using these prisons as his locale. Strollers, tourists and shoppers were already out and about the small a€?old harbor.a€? The restaurants were open, and the chairs put out, for the coffee drinkers. My hand was throbbing to beat the band, but hey, no one likes a whiner, so we went and were glad we did.
A former Roman outpost, from the first century, Barcelona is now the heart of the Catalonia region of Spain. Gaudi offers a unique marriage of art and architecture that is elegant in composition and a delight to the eyes. The front facade rises in four towering and conical spires of dark brown sandstone, that narrow into tapered and brown-stone, laced pillars.
I could write several chapters on this elegant sandstone epiphany, but suffice it to say that it is a conceptual marriage of architect Antonio Gaudi, and painter Salvatore Dali. A large fountain, floral gardens and a well-ordered square complete and compliment this lovely square. I managed, in my best high school German, to tell the Germans that a set of my mothera€™s grand parents had come from Munich and that Buffalo has a sister-city relationship with Dortmund, a mid sized city near Dusseldorf.
Or the 1941 dinner, when Rex Stout came for the first time, and electrified Irregulars with a€?Watson Was a Womana€?? That a photo had been taken that night came to light later in a letter from James Keddie of Boston to Vincent Starrett. Smith, James Keddie, and Christopher Morley, Starretta€™s telegram to the BSI dinner, Morleya€™s handwritten menu, autographs of the Irregular diners that night, the picture of Sherlock Holmes that Frederic Dorr Steele drew that night, the first BSI membership list Edgar W.
Incidentally, I think you did us all a service by naming Mycroft Holmes as the detective who solved his problems without ever visiting the scene of the crime or seeing the evidence. Later that year, he wrote the few words about it that follow, in a letter to Allen Robertson of Baltimore (then unknown to the BSI, but later founder i??of The Six Napoleons of Baltimore, and a€?The Reigate Squires,a€? BSI). After the Woollcott condescension most of us were content to go on without any Stated Meetings . It includes the membersa€™ chosen noms de canon, a practice of the Pips which may have inspired the Titular Investitures adopted by the BSI later under Smitha€™s leadership. But it bespoke his confidence in Smith, who had yet to attend a BSI dinner, when he turned first to him for help organizing the 1940 affair.
Julian Wolff, whose notable Sherlockian maps qualify him, I think, beyond any suspicion of a doubt for membership. This list has been compiled in a piecemeal fashion from many sources but as time goes on we hope to show improvement! Christopher Morley cited Swiggett in an Irregular way once, in his March 4, 1939, a€?Trade Windsa€? column. Stone of Waltham, Mass., had been in Sherlockian circles since the late a€™Thirties, was a contributor to 221B, and had at-tended the 1940 dinner a€” as he would the a€™41 dinner a month after this list. As a matter of fact, by God, I doubt like hell if Bill Hall could ever have passed a really probing quiz in those early days. Keddie, who had come from Scotland as a child, had a particular interest in this Baker Street relic in which Sherlock Holmes kept his cigars. I have in my possession a coal box which to my knowledge is nearly fifty years old, but which, until it fell into the hands of the philistines in this country had never held so much as a spoonful of coal.
Across the table from him, a nonchalant David Randall tilts his chair back, his hand stuck in his pocket. Of all his twenty years of writing up BSI dinner minutes, it seems safe to say that this is the one most likely to contain some errors in the list of attendees. On the basis of the signatures plus the dinner photograph, thirty-seven, if that is Elmer Davis at no. He arrived in New York with a letter of introduction to Christopher Morley in his pocket; and, with no less a Holmesian than S. Cambridge University Press had published Shakespearea€™s Imagery and What It Tells Us by Caroline Spurgeon, and I wanted to get publicity for it. He was the BSIa€™s food-and-drink expert, and worked with me on the annual Oxford and Cambridge dinners in New York too.
It was here that we encountered the curious version of what we were to call a€?beat the clock.a€? Terminal # 1 is the jump site for many of the shorter European flights from London.
How the heck the luggage guys can figure this out and bring the right baggage to the quickly assigned gate appeared to be problematic, as we were to find out. We waited resignedly for our turn and then filled out the appropriate forms, with the besieged agent at the desk. We recognized the bleary look in some of their eyes and knew that they had just flown in from far away. Throngs of tourists, from all over the globe, swirled around us in a multi-cultural sea that was dizzying to the ear.
The Romans had staged sea battles, gladiator contests and all manner of spectator sports in these halls.


It was one of those magical moments when you are very glad to be alive and with a loved one. After our swim, we read our books and soon fell into the arms of Morpheus, where we slept like dead alligators in a swamp, for a blissful eight hours.
We crossed over the Tiber River and smaller streams, noting the unique triangular, truss-supports on some of the more rural bridges. We hung on to over head straps and looked out into the gloomy subway, eyes unseeing like the most veteran romans. We had purchased rosaries on a previous trip and wondered again at the whole a€?blessed at the vaticana€? scam.
I looked on amused and amazed at what i was seeing, as the temporal veil of two thousand years of recent history raced through my mind. Inside, we followed the circular walkway that rose gradually up the 90 some feet into the air, to the castles battlements high above us.The ramp was designed to carry popes and caesars in coaches ,high above us, where they could be walled in from besieging marauders. Twin churches on antiquity, now banks, guard the entrance to the Via Corso to the South, and the rest of Rome. Further down the parkway we knew lay the hotel Hassler at the top of the imposing Spanish Steps. We thought about stopping at the Hotel Hassler for coffee or a drink, but were convinced that they would recognize me for a scoundrel and give us the heave ho. We found a spot where we could hang from over head straps and enjoyed the ride back to the Airport. Nazaire France from 1991-1993 for $240 million dollars and originally named the MS Dreamward. After dinner, the stewards would take whatever portion of the bottle of wine that you consumed and save it for you in a central repository where you could call for it from any of the several restaurants on board.
Michaelangelo had been a frequent visitor in the quarries, to select blocks of marble for his sculptings. This treasured fruit would yield 19 kilograms of oil from every 100 kilograms of olives pressed. I dona€™t think we, as Americansa€™ have much of an appreciation for this a€?quiltwork of principalitiesa€? that made up a region, each warring with the other over the ages. The Monte Dei Pasche, a commercial banking syndicate of Siena, had also become the bankers for the papal states and collected both interest on their loans and outstanding debts for the popes for centuries. Around its periphery are a series of hotels, trendy shops and restaurants with awnings and chairs for tourists and Sienans to enjoy the Tuscan sun. A series of large ravines, carved by glacial or ancient river action, were speckled with housing complexes and spanned by lengthy bridges, now loaded with morning traffic. We could see Castello Brown high above the village.It looks like a medieval fortress, but later proved to be but fhe fancy digs of a former 19th century British ambassador. Afterwards, we walked along the narrow harbor path, looking in the various shops and taverns facing the sea. Meridian Merlot accompanied a three-berry compote, a lemon fruit soup, salmon and risotto, with chocolate cake and decaf cappuccino. Several eighty and hundred-foot power yachts lay at anchor in the upscale marina, attesting to the citya€™s glamourous reputation.
The police were cordoning off a route from the Palace to the Church, for the royal family, and clearing traffic from the streets.
Several flagons, of a decent , house, red wine, accompanied salad, pasta, cheesecake and cappuccino. We passed on the privilege and watched for a time the ebb and flow of tourists walking in and out.
Above the beaches runs an elevated promenade upon which throngs of natives and tourists were walking. It had been a long and enjoyable day, in a fairy-tale setting, that evaporated from our consciousness with the setting sun. Some places were elaborately laid out, with formal tableware, perhaps in anticipation of Easter Brunches later in the morning.
The site had been built to commemorate the arrival of water, in underground pipes, to Marseilles. The sight lines, from the elevated promontory, were gorgeous, but our attention was a bit distracted.
The doctor was away from the ship, so she further cleaned and disinfected the wound and wrapped it in sterile gauge.
He didna€™t think much of the tissue would survive, but put five stitches along the underside of my ring finger, disinfected the wound, wrapped it in sterile gauze. The entire front facade, beneath them, is engraved with images of the life of the Holy Family, the birth of Christ, the adoration of the Magi, the crucifiixtion and death of Christ and the last judgment. After dinner, we walked the decks for a while enjoying the comings and goings of so diverse a population of passengers. Her English was better than my German, so we talked for a bit about the usual pleasantries.
The 1946 dinner, when the premiere issue of The Baker Street Journal arrived arrived at the last moment to be handed out?
It was the only one ever attended by a Conan Doyle, Sir Arthura€™s son Denis a€” and the decades-long feud between the BSI and the Conan Doyle Estate dates to that night. Only a few dozen men had been present that night, and it seemed unlikely that a copy would ever surface now, after all these years.
According to Smith, Denis listened with bewilderment to the various toasts offered to Holmes and his entourage, and to the scholarly reports on various aspects of the investigatora€™s career.
Keddie sent me a jolly letter about it, which, with yours, goes into the permanent records. The difficulty is that it is rather too scholarly for any of the really popular journals - and they are the only ones that pay worthwhile rewards. I hope in my menial capacity as Boots [sic], I have not, in doing this, incurred the wrath of my Gasogene and Tantalus.a€? Presumably the Morley list from which Smith worked was the 1935 one printed in Irregular Memories of the a€?Thirties (pp. But beyond that, their Irregular con-nections in 1940 are a mystery, and their names do not appear again in surviving Irregular records. His inscription in the copy of Appointment in Baker Street that he sent Woollcott in 1939 read a€?To Alexander Woollcott in appreciation for loyal work as a Baker Street Irregular,a€? and in 1944, the year following Woollcotta€™s death, he referred to him in Profile by Gaslight (to Leavitta€™s lasting annoyance) as a founder of the BSI. What do you think?a€? I have not seen Morleya€™s reply, but Woollcotta€™s New Yorker article about the 1934 dinner did not appear in 221B. Other veteran BSIs-to-be not on it, but at the a€™41 dinner and many more to come, were Philip Duschnes the bookseller, Charles Honce the A.P.
Watson,a€™ a€?The Game Is Afoot!a€™ and a€?The Second Most Dangerous Man in London.a€™a€? These were suggestions, if you will, at the original meeting, but they were approved, and the Davis Document makes them Constitutional.
His defense, when threatened with inquiry, was to roar (and I use the word deliberately a€” ROAR), a€?Dona€™t put me to the question!a€? As him and dare him, for me, to deny it.
In that instance, the coal box, which stood by the fireplace chair, had been used by my mother and by my grandmother before her for the odds and ends of sewing and knitting utensils that a Scotswoman picks up in the afternoon that even her time of rest may not be entirely wasted!
Eliot), FVM had returned to New York in 1938 to be trade editor at the Harcourt, Brace company.
Suit will be filed as soon as possible after my residence (six weeks) is established; and if there is no opposition there will be no delay. But, simply to put the reader on the alert, a few obvious corrections may be noteda€? a€” and Miss Nightwork, perennial Ph.D. Elmer Davis was perhaps the best known national celebrity in the BSI at the time, from his work as a CBS radio newsman. In those days the very best place to get a book mentioned was Morleya€™s a€?Trade Windsa€? column in the Saturday Review of Literature.
We played a game to see who would be the first to telephone the other each year on December 16th, with the words a€?O Sapienta,a€? which we always found on that day in our Cambridge Pocket Diaries. I dona€™t remember his attendance at any of the BSI dinners; but I recall vividly that when we would meet him at dinner at the St. The Apennines extend down the spine of Italy, appearing like some great skeleton on an exhibit, in a natural history museum. We had some decent Chianti, very tasty caesar salads and bread, with cappuccinos afterwards. We watched amused at the scores of a€?smart carsa€? and compacts scurried in and out of the congestion, jockeying for position in the moving metal stream.
I could picture the Romans arriving late, complaining of the heavy chariot traffic, as the sat in their assigned seats, waving at acquaintances and craning their necks to see what dignitaries now sat on the elevated dais. The Spanish Ambassador to Italy had once lived in a villa, just off these steps, giving them their name. We admired the smooth marble and artistic workmanship and pondered for a time the march of civilizations that had come here to worship throughout the centuries, each praying to a a€?goda€? that they held dear.
Then, we were standing in from of a glassed-in sepulcher that reputedly holds the remains of the founder of the catholic church, the rock upon which Christ had built his earthly church, Peter, the fisherman. A tunnel even supposedly exited underground.It ran from the vatican, some blocks over, to the fortress where popes could retreat in times of attack.
We sat by the fountain, listening to a musical group playing nearby, and enjoying the whole panoply of activities that swirled around us in this huge meeting place in Rome. We walked about, enjoying the many artists who were painting alfresco portraits of the tourists, much like the Place du Tetre, behind Sacre Cour, in Paris. The first pressing is the most valued and usually labeled a€?extra virgin oil.a€? A killing frost had destroyed much of the local trees in the 1980a€™s. It gives rise to our fascination with castles, moats and the whole medieval mythology that surrounds such areas.
The syndicate was so successful that in later years the Siena City council had mandated that 50% of their annual profits were to be turned over to the city for a€?public improvements.a€? The annual rebate now runs to $150 million a year and funds much of the restoration of the medieval town. Each year, on July 12 and August 16th, a colorful horse race is run around the periphery of this wide Piazza, with ten especially trained horses and jockeys representing parts of the city. We laughed a lot, enjoyed the food and each othera€™a€™s company and made a nice day from a soggy one.
An interesting collection of brick-faced apartments, all shaped in the form of tan pyramids, caught our eye towards the shoreline.
Directly in front of the casino, and rising upwards to a level of the city some 50 feet above, are a series of terraced fountains and floral gardens all bedecked in colorful flags and pendants. We noticed that many of the stately older villas,along the roadway, were in some state of decline. The beaches sported colorful names like a€?Miami,a€? and a€?Opera.a€? In the Summers, this place must really rock and roll! It was too chilly to sit in the outdoor cafes, so we walked the length of the area, drinking in the sights and sounds of a place that we would never perhaps return to.
A detachment of the French foreign legion had been stationed at this imposing stone edifice. He told me to a€? take two aspirins and garglea€? and come back in a few days to see how it progressed. The statue was supposedly pointing towards the West and the new world, but somehow, the statues orientation had been turned so he was pointing South. They do things like that in Europe where centuries are relatively much shorter spans of time than in America. The homes, more Spanish style, Hansel and Gretel-type cottages, also feature elegantly tiled exteriors that are in the Dr. We sat for a time in the star dust lounge, but the entertainment was just as lame as our previous encounter. The 1948 a€?committee in cameraa€? dinner, when the BSI's future hung by a thread upon Christopher Morleya€™s discontent? There were Crossword Puzzle winners like Basil Davenport, Harry Hazard, Harvey Officer, and Earle Walbridge. Bell was there at the time, and when Bell died in 1947, Starrett recalled in his a€?Books Alivea€? column in the Tribune walking up and down Baker Street with Bell, arguing about which house had been Sherlock Holmesa€™s.
Jackson of Barre, Vermont, a Crossword solver, and Morleya€™s friend and Grillparzer crony Buckminster Fuller. Williams (died 1940), who brought his son Peter to the 1940 BSI dinner, was art director at the American Book Company, a well-known book and print collector, and an author of childrena€™s travel books. Would Smith have added Alexander Woollcott to the BSIa€™s membership list without consulting Christopher Morley? If we are met with hostility, the case will have to be argued, and I've no way of knowing how long it might take. Smith is down the table on the opposite side, not yet at its head where he soon will be for the rest of his life.
So are the signatures of two more men not named in Smitha€™s minutes, who may be among the unidentified faces in the picture: Ernest S. Following the dinner, Harry Hazard prepared a partial key to the photograph.Elmer Davis is not on it, and the face at no.
Roberts as a mentor back home, found himself a Baker Street Irregular on Morleya€™s 1935 membership list.
I met him when I was an undergraduate at Cambridge, attending his lectures on Samuel Johnson, but it was in publishing that he made his reputation.
Spurgeon showed the kind of man Shakespeare must have been by tabulating all the metaphors and similes he used, showing him to be familiar with the countryside, gardens, and domestic animals. We thought it began one of the Collects in the Prayer Book; but we were puzzled at its having a special day. Regis Hotel with that most generous host, Howard Goodhart, Rosenbach always had a full bottle of whisky at his place at the table, while the rest of us drank wine. We had had the foresight to pack some essential in our carry-ons and werena€™t too disturbed at the loss of our luggage. The bus let us off on the Piazza Campodoglio, just behind the Vittorio Emmanuel II monument, that enormous a€?wedding cakea€? that seems to dominate all of the Roman skyline. We wondered again at the many parades of conquering armies that had this way trod, dazed captives, strange animals and other trophies of victory shepherded before them, to the delight of the cheering throngs.
The Romans had even engineered a means of stretching a huge canvass across the top of the structure, when the high sun of summer was beating down on the arena. They set out their chairs, under awnings, and wait for the tourists to come and sit in the Roman sun, dining and watching each other.
I wonder if any of then considered the similarities of their exercise rather that the dissimilarities? The street was awash with people going to work and throngs more, even at this early hour, headed to the Vatican.
We had been here twice before, but stood silently in awe of Michaelangeloa€™s white-marble epiphany. As in most situations, when you find yourself overwhelmed by what you see, it soon becomes normal. We always do a double blink when we find ourselves in places like this, to remind us that we are really here and not meandering in some day dream in a place far away. It was getting late in the afternoon and we were thinking about making our way back across the city to the stazione terminal and the train back to the airport Hilton. The newer trees were only now approaching the proper maturity to deliver ripe olives for oil pressing.
On one hilltop, we espied the village of Monteregione, with its village wall and twelve turrets rising above the skyline.It is an outline much known in Italy and used on their former currency. A column stood in this piazza, atop which is the form of a she wolf, with two infants suckling her. That was to be the last time we agreed to a€?share a tablea€? with strangers when asked by the various maitre-da€™s.
Along the many coastal areas, we noticed the old fishermena€™s homes, that are painted in various bright Mediterranean pastels. We boarded and I stopped by the deck # 9 internet cafe to send a few message into cyber space. We were now on the a€?middle corniche (cliff) road.a€? Most of the coast, in this area, is a very steep hillside that slopes precipitously towards the Mediterranean. The population of the Monaco is comprised of 10,000 French, 10,000 Italians, 5,000 Monagasque (natives) and a sprinkling of other nationalities. The sun was shining brightly overhead, the Mediterranean sparkled blue in the distance and a fairy tale changing of the guard was in progress for a fairy tale prince. We walked about the beautiful parkland, enjoying the flowers, the bright colors and the activity in and around the casino.
We wandered its narrow alleys, dodging other tourist who had been game enough for the walk. It was getting late and cooling off, so we walked back to the dock and stood patiently in the long line for the tender ride back to the ship. Looking out towards the fortress, on the very edge of the harbor, is a large stone arch built to commemorate French soldiers killed in the Orient. Across the small plaza, from the Cathedral, sits a more modern building with a huge painting by Picasso, on its facade.
Reliefs of fruits and vegetables, animals and other symbols of nature display a pantheistic overview of God and creation.
It is these chance encounters, with people from everywhere, that really make a cruise enjoyable.
Or perhaps the dinner a€” the date still uncertain a€” when Jim Montgomery sang a€?Aunt Claraa€? for the first time.
Recently (within a year) I had the same problem on my hands - and found no American editor whatever for a Sherlockian essay which has since found place in an English Symposium or anthology issued as a book.
As a charter member, I call for a prompt and continued honoring of the wise provisions of The Founding Fathers. Weber declared himself a€?Judge Lynch,a€? his pen-name as chief mystery book reviewer in the Saturday Review of Literature.
James Keddie sits next to him, and on the table nearby is the orthodox coal-scuttle he has brought from Boston. Colling, a former New York Evening Post colleague of Morleya€™s (its movie critic, who helped turn Morleya€™s 1922 novel Where the Blue Begins into a play in 1925), and H. He attended the annual dinner for the first time in 1936, and is the only living person to have attended BSI dinners at both the Murray Hill Hotel and, before that, Christ Cellaa€™s speakeasy. He was Secretary to the Syndics of Cambridge University Press from 1922 to 1948, and more than any other one man he had brought the University Press out of the academic backwaters into the mainstream of publishing. My wife and I spent three long evenings reading four of Morleya€™s books and doing the same to him.
It is one of the pitfalls of travel.The airlines are usually pretty good about getting your lost bags to you in the next 24 hours. Now, throngs of people from everywhere come by daily and sit on the stairs, admiring the view and enjoying the throngs that come to sit by them.
We sat for a time near the a€?Four Riversa€? fountain and admired the artistry of the Master Bernini. Sadly, I informed them that it existed now but in their memories from that classic chariot race scene in a€?Ben Hur.a€? What was left was now a large rectangular park area, overlooked by the ancient palaces on the Capitoline Hill. We walked the length of the funeral chamber to its end where thoughtful officials had provided restrooms for the throngs. It is always unnerving to sleep the first night at sea when there are high waves, until you got used to the rhythms of the ship. We stopped at a road side rest station called a€?AGIPa€? where passengers used the facilities and sipped cappuccino for 3 euros each.
The entire effect of the cathedral is to catch your breath, at the artistic array of creations inside.Each had been created to show glory to god.
Custom had dictated this as a means for the fisherman to espy their dwellings as they approached safe harbor and home.
By now, we were puffing with the exertion and wondering how the various workmen got up and down these paths every day. It is traversed, from East to West, by three roughly parallel roads called appropriately, the a€?Lower cornichea€? (closer to the sea) the middle corniche ( which we now traversed) and the a€?upper cornichea€?, higher above us. This was a Hans Christian Anderson day-dream flashing before us in the brilliant noon day sun.
We found and entered an elegant hostelry called a€?Chateau de la Chevre da€™Or,a€? roughly, the a€?house of the golden goat.
Across the river, on the rise of a hill, stands an old stone palace used by the French Royalty at differing times. A smaller green-bronzed statue, of a maiden with her arms raised was erected, in front of the arch, to commemorate the French soldiers killed in North Africa. The bus driver and a colleague did a credible imitation of the three monkeys, pointing to the church above and saying a€?medicine.a€? We staunched the blood flow with tissues and a few antiseptic hand wipes.
My best guess if that the construction crew screwed up, at the installation, and it had been too costly to correct the error. Gaudi intended his creation to have 18 spires, 12 for the apostles, 4 for the evangelists, one each for Mary and Jesus. This hombre had one fertile imagination, that he was able to sculpt into brick and mortar in structures. Edgar Smitha€™s affectionate zeal, not less than his Sherlockian scholarship, his gusto in pamphleteering, his delight in keeping orderly records, and his access to mimeographic and parchment-engrossing and secretarial resources, all these were irresistible. Henry Morton Robinson was a popular writer whose 1943 Saturday Review article about the BSI, a€?Baker Street Irregularities,a€? was reprinted in Irregular Memories of the a€™Thirties. Weber, had been at the 1936 dinner, and the 1940 too, despite the silence of Smitha€™s minutes on that score. Bell at the Victoria Hotel, to found the BSIa€™s first scion society, The Speckled Band of Boston. Price, the American Bank Note Company executive who had solved the Sherlock Holmes Crossword in 1934. Davis and Hazard had been at the 1936 dinner together a€” their signatures are both on a surviving copy of that nighta€™s menu. His a€?Profile of a New York Irregular,a€? about Basil Davenport, appeared in Irregular Proceedings of the Mid a€™Forties. We had momentarily mistaken the Capitoline steps for the a€?Spanish Steps,a€? until corrected by a friendly tourist.
We walked out into the Piazza San Pietro and immediately noted the colorful costumes of the Swiss Guard, with their razor sharp pikes, standing before the entrance to Vatican city.
Supposedly Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome who had been suckled by a she wolf, had fled Rome and sought sanctuary in Siena. It sure did keep your attention, as Rita commented quietly on the many artistic and cultural aspects of the works that we were observing. Residents pay no income taxes, thanks to casino revenues, and are generally well heeled, even by Monagasque standards.
I had the presence of mind to think of the huge swelling of tissue to come, and managed to slip the large college ring, from my finger. Unfortunately for us, both the Dali and the Picasso art museums were closed on that Easter Monday. I dona€™t suppose that any society of Amateur Mendicants has ever had a more agreeable or competent fugleman. Simeon Strunsky at the New York Times, a€?dean of grammarians,a€? as Morley liked to call him, had been on the 1935 membership list as well, though he (like Rosenbach) never attended a BSI dinner.
Standing against the wall are two of Morleya€™s closest friends, Bill Hall in deerstalker, and Robert K.
He was the author of A Note on the Watson Problem, 100 copies, privately printed at the Cambridge U.P. Now, it lay like an ancient and broken sign post pointing faintly to a grandeur that once was Rome.
Throngs of other tourists from everywhere stood around us, as we too pitched coins backwards over our shoulders in hope of returning to Rome yet again.We had done this twice before and returned each time, so maybe the magic works. These hardy warriors are all trained infantrymen from the Swiss Army, who stand ready to rock and roll, with whatever comes their way, to protect the pope and Vatican City. They no longer asked for tips in the loo, they had sliding doors that only opened to admit one, if you inserted .60 euros in a slot . From this port, you can access Florence, Pisa and a bit further out, the medieval, walled city of Siena. No one had really ever substantiated the claim, but it made for great symbolism and interest both to the natives and the tourists. Christopher Columbus had been born and raised in these environs before he sailed to the new worlds for Espagna. It was an elegantly manicured parkland from which to stare out over the sapphire blue Mediterranean. We repaired to our cabin to write up our notes, shower and prep for dinner with the Martins. Perhaps this was because the allies had bombed the port area back to the middle ages during WW II? I had visions of sitting in an emergency room, at some French hospital, with the boat sailing away for Barcelona without me. Barcelona had been an interesting melange of Moor, Jew and Spaniard until 1492, that pivotal discovery year. John Winterich was a prominent critic who had also been a colleague of Morleya€™s at the Saturday Review of Literature.
Mans-bridge lives in Connecticut, and it is an honor to publish the following reminiscence here. Maxwell will be deciding upon and after this illness passed we will take a look at producing these scripts into feature films or television productions.
We watched and enjoyed the tourists, from many countries, snapping pictures of the fountain and each other. In past ages, their duty had not been ceremonial in the many times that both Rome and the Vatican had been under siege, from some particularly surly invader bent on plunder and mayhem. Andrea Doria, a middle ages naval admiral, and figure of note in Italian history, had also lived here.
The ship had several of the motorized tenders shuttling passengers back and forth from the shore. As we sipped pricey cappuccino (18 euros),we gazed out over the sapphire blue of the Mediterranean far below. The doctor offered me pain pills, but i advised that I would probably be drinking several glasses of wine for dinner. Internal religious strife had generated the expulsion of the Moors and the jews from Spain that year. We had an opportunity to stay and visit the Las Ramblas esplanade, but were tiring from today's and the many previous tours we had taken. The buildings all around the piazza are replete with papal insignia and looked impossibly old to us, pilgrims from a land where three hundred years is a long time.
We were seated by deferential waiters and ordered, in our best Italian, Minestrone zuppa, pizza, with aqua minerale and cappuccino. The guide mentioned something about him negotiating a treaty with Charles V of Spain, but it was getting a little too deep in Italian history for me to follow. We entered our boat and waited until the craft filled with passengers, then slowly motored into shore, where our bus was waiting.
Someone with our surname (Martin) must have either been on the ground floor founding this place or donated half of the land for its creation. Mary espied Phillip, our guide, and insisted that I needed some medical attention immediately.
We lunched at the four seasons, on deck #9 ,and then repaired to our cabin, for a well earned conversation with Mr. Leavitt, Harvey Officer, James Keddie, Earle Walbridge, and other legendary figures from the BSIa€™s early days. He could be serious, but never solemn; the lighter side of letters and life appealed to him, and he became prominent in the affairs of both Sherlock Holmes Societies (pre-war and post-war) in England.
Maxwell is spending this time taking care of his wife, and not in production, he has plenty of time to read scripts. We ate slowly and enjoyed our surroundings and each other, never forgetting who we are and how far we had come to be sitting here under the Roman sun.The tab was a reasonable 40 euros. He walked me into the offices of the cathedral, turned me over to an elderly woman and skittled away, the weasel. Stone and Howard Haycraft, sitting against the wall further down, preserve a serious demeanor. He ended up with two-thirds of a column in Whoa€™s Who, and many honors: Master of Pembroke College, Cambridge, Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge University, and finally Sir Sydney. Thus, this is a wonderful time to have him take a look at your script.i»?A This page is set aside to give us an opportunity to keep our visitor abreast of what is going on with Maxima Vision Films and our film school.
Fortunately, we had a very brief time to spend and had to leave before we put the money back into the machines. Far below in the village, a small shed houses two donkeys who used to ferry people and luggage to this pricey Inn, in the mountains above Monaco. I guess it becomes more understandable, of their recent posture towards conflict, in the middle east. Across the table, Charlie Goodman and his brother Jack beam at the camera, while Mitchell Kennerley the bookman, who will take his own life ten years hence, studies the back of his hand somberly.
At the same time we encourage our visitor to write us anything they feel may be of interest in film and television to our community. Further down, Harvey Officer, soon to be the BSIa€™s first songster with his Irregular anthem a€?The Road to Baker Street,a€? smiles shyly at the camera.
C.,a€? bluff, friendly but business-like, at ease in any company and in any country a€” even riding a camel in Egypt, winning a race against another one ridden by an Oxford man.
Many of these articles are written by our own CEO who is serious about keeping our whole community up to date with any breaking news and events we may be involved with.
It is here, in the village below, that we met and talked to Peter and Julia Martin for the first time. The owlish bespectacled man at the bottom of the picture may or may not be Elmer Davis; across from him, Earle Walbridge makes another appearance in what will long stand as the record for unbroken attendance at the annual dinners. In the event you write to us a story we find the community may want to know about we will post here on this page. Basil Davenport turns toward Peter Greig, as Ronald Mansbridge raises a wine-glass in salute. These stories may be of any kind pertaining to the film and television industry, from casting calls our community may want to know about, to events in the area, to a new story ideas you come up with you think might make for a good film or television production. We had noticed them on a few tours and decided to ask them to join us for dinner this evening. They agreed, perhaps wondering at the forwardness of yankees in soliciting social engagements. Manners got the better of them though and they agreed to meet us later in the evening for dinner. Randall Maxwell of Maxima Vision Films takes some of the backdrop of that particular White House, fictionalizes the story, orchestrates some look-a-likes and dramatizes a womana€™s lust for power who is willing to do whatever it takes to become the first lady president of the United States, including assassination, sex, love or war. When three unlikely but well-intentioned groups of mighty people join forces to battle the demon, they face challenges within and without.
Their variegated backgrounds, including slavery, military, and commoners, must be overlooked if they are to stop Man Burnera€™s evil quest. The powerful and precious Atma stones must be kept secret if the world is to be saved.Will Man Burner be able to succeed on his quest to find the Atma stones? This delay is expected to last a couple of months, postponing production of every film by a couple of months.The reason for this suspension is due largely to the fact of us not yet having our film school, which is attached to our production company at the point where our investment group had wanted it by summer of 2013.
Another large factor is not finding a large enough pool of talent here locally who have enough professional film experience or training to allow us to completely cast four feature films per year, let alone finding enough professionally experienced crew.Thus, one of the things we are now awaiting is hiring a casting director in Hollywood to cast any remaining major speaking roles for each film we have been unable to cast thus far.
This is an all out effort to raise the bar in this region of professionally trained actors as well as crew. At this summer feature filmA  consortium; Whether you are an aspiring producer, director, script writer, editor, animator, actor, cinematographer, or just want to learn the ins and outs of the film making industry, you may begin as early as the summer of 2013 building your working resume by participation in our Summer Feature Film Consortium! Well, we have serious investors who share our same passions who are willing to put their money where their mouths are. Let us commit ourselves then together to perfecting our craft of film making and television production by committing to professional training and stop spending money with so-called agencies who are simply in business to sell schools and photos, but have no real connections to even consider making even a feature film. It is a very sad thing that so many have been lured into such scams and have been taken advantage of, but now it is time for change and a part of this change is a must, raising the bar of excellence.
It is now time for us to show our investors that we are willing to invest in our future so that very soon they will allow us the opportunity that all of us can make a very good living doing what each of us love doing and that we are extremely passionate about.A This film school has always been and will continue to be always a very specialA  part of our production company and our plans for the future as a means of keeping well trained professionals continuing to come on board with our production offices, from professionally trained actors to crew.
This keeps fresh ideas coming through the doors, but more importantly it allows us to always know we have the most highly skilled actors and crew that money can buy.
Our investment group has always made the film school a stipulation on their investing in our feature films and will continue to do so. A One of the biggest concerns of our investment group is to keep from happening here what happened in Louisiana, where their film makers were at least diligent in getting their law makers to raise the incentives to entice major film production companies like Maxima to come into their state to produce films in their state.
They were able to do this by quoting statistics which prove, when major film production companies come into your state and begin producing motion pictures, they bring with them literally millions of dollars into the local economy. In Louisiana, they experienced tremendous success in enticing these companies into their state.A Unfortunately, these companies came by the droves, however, once there they found there was not enough professionally trained talent already there to produce the number of films they wanted to produce, causing them to have to hire the bulk of their needed talent out of state. Because these incentives are based on hiring local talent, these companies when they were forced to hire outside of state talent, they lost their incentives. Louisiana has since worked diligently trying to get professional instructors in their public schools and universities to train up a workforce of professionally trained film and television professionals to salvage what they can of the professional production companies who have remained and tried working with them.A At Maxima Vision Films, we have experienced the same thing in this region as far as finding sufficient professionally trained talent to do here what we had planned to do in this region. When I speak of this region, I am speaking of the region of Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma and Louisiana.
We have two investment groups, one of which has already committed to funding four feature films or television productions per year over the next five years here in this region with Maxima. We want to shoot films that matter, films which can help to shape our culture positively as opposed to negatively.
These films will be marketed directly to the Christian community, which when one considers 70% of the USA population are professed Christian, this is an enormous market.
We are certain if we can keep our production cost down under a million dollars the odds are in our favor of at least breaking even if not making a few dollars, especially considering telling stories that matter. If we can keep our films under $500,000 the odds go up even further, and we know one film in 6-7 will make a substantial return.
Our main goal though is telling stories that matter, that might help shape our culture positively, and we can all make a decent living while doing what we are all passionate about doing. A To accomplish all of this though, we are going to have to raise the bar here in this Texas region as far as talent goes.
We are diligently seeking those individuals who have a real passion for film making and television productions, who are driven by this passion to do whatever it takes to one day be able to make a living in a industry that chances are very bleak in anyone getting to a point of making a living. However, one thing is for certain, to have any chance at all, the more one is willing to do in the industry, whether it be sweeping the floors, taking coffee to the director, or being the lead role, or simply investment of time, energy, and money to keep perfecting their craft, all tends to lead to work, which gives us more exposure, that in turn leads to more work, etc, etc, etca€¦ A The point is this; we have investors, which is something, if not the one and only thing which keeps most from doing what they truly want to do in this industry!
These investors are seeking individuals like yourself who are like minded, those who have a real passion for film making and television productions, but who are also just as passionate about telling stores that matter. However, the real key is finding these like minded individuals who take this business very serious, as serious as our investors take it, those who are willing to invest into their own future, so as to help them to perfect their individual craft so that they are the very best they can become, so that as a collaborative art form we are able as a group of individuals creating a quality product. After he began his own recovery, he helped set up centers to help other addicts."I abandoned my old life to serve the Lord Jesus Christ," he said.
One twin struggles with an addition to prescription drugs, while the other battles doctors whose prescription anti-psychotics are driving her sister to madness and death.a€?One is what I call a€?preachya€™ and more for the church community and affirming faith,a€? Maxwell said. With the first type of film we will focus on films which are considered preachy and on the nose which will be marketed directly to the Christian community. The second types of films we will focus on are those designed to reach the un-churched with a message of hope for a hurting world, a film with at least a redemptive message. This investment group is especially interested in getting involved with projects where the project owner has some sort of invested interest in the project themselves or have some avenue to put together a split funded project somehow, thus splitting the risk as well.A A Thus, this investment group funded many trips around the country for Dr. Maxwell to travel and meet with other investment individuals, companies and groups who had expressed interest in partnerships with the films we were already in pre-production stage which were our films a€?Rachela€™s Gracea€? and a€?Sister Surrendereda€?, both of which had an estimated production budget of around $300,000.
We had felt with partnering with others who could double the production budget we could add at least some actors with much experience as well as other talents. Unfortunately, at this point, though we met many such investment groups who had expressed interest in split funding our film projects, most simply had projects themselves who they wanted our investment group to invest in their film projects and did not show us even any interest what so ever in split funding our film projects after our investment group paid travel and lodging expenses for Dr Maxwell to meet with these people.
A With this being said, this has been a very expensive summer for our investment group in trying to put together split funded film projects.



How to know if a man is cheating on you yahoo
Help struggling relationship


Comments »

  1. Agamirze — 17.02.2014 at 19:49:38 The back of his thoughts that he never bought.
  2. KAYF_life_KLAN — 17.02.2014 at 22:47:17 The place your lady shows deep respect.
  3. ALENDALON — 17.02.2014 at 16:18:57 Clearer picture of what your previous relationship has felt she did surprise, initially, that humanity.
  4. GameOver — 17.02.2014 at 18:38:45 Together, it will be a new relationship interval, she mentioned she love that.
  5. Brat_007 — 17.02.2014 at 17:49:24 IPhone, IPad, Kindle felt we was dashing right into there is no such thing as a cause why.