TV Detective Dad Joke

 Bob and Marie sat on the sofa watching their weekly marathon of detective shows.

“Oh he’s the killer.” Bob said.

“Why do you say that?” Marie asked.

“I just know these things.”

“No you don’t. You always think you know who the killer is, but you are always wrong.”

Bob sulked through the rest of the show. When the real killer was revealed, and it wasn’t his pick, he complained about the poor writing.

Bob picked the wrong killer on three more detective shows. He claimed that all three shows have bad writers. Marie began to question her relationship and TV viewing decisions.

The next day at a real crime scene. Bob pointed and yelled, “He’s the killer.” Before Marie could chastise him, the killer pulled out a gun a shot Bob. Bob’s dying words to Marie were, “I told you those shows had bad writers.”

When History Lies

 Well, maybe not history itself, but Wikipedia’s version of history is not always to be trusted. The annoying thing here is that the person who wrote the Wiki in question tried to do the right thing. They included a footnote pointing to their source. However, the source listed no source for their information, and most of what they said is wrong.

In question are a couple of facts about the turn of the 20th century actress and race car driver Eva Mudge. There are three facts that I question:

1. She was the first woman to drive an automobile

2. She was the first woman race car driver

3. In 1903 she was the first woman to get a NY driver’s license

The first “fact” is SO wrong. Women had been driving cars for decades before Eva got behind the wheel of her 1899 Waverly Electric. In fact, Bertha Benz, Karl’s wife, was the first person, man or woman, to drive an automobile more than just a few miles.

I can neither prove nor disprove the second claim. The records of early races are sparse past who the winners were. There are also many stories of women disguised as men entering races. So, we’ll let that one slide.

The third claim is at least confused or at most a lie. New York State didn’t start issuing driver’s licenses till 1910. They did, however, issue chauffeur’s badges starting in 1903, or maybe 1902. However, these were only intended for people who were paid to drive others. Eva may have obtained one, but it was not a driver’s license.

Where does this false info originate? The source referenced in the Wikipedia article is the 1939 edition of the Kane Book of Famous First Facts. They got it from who knows where. As I said, there are no footnotes there. I did find a couple articles, also un-footnoted, that suggested Eva’s publicist produced these facts to generate interest in Ms. Mudge’s acting career.

The Kane Book is not the only instance of the claims. I found them repeated in several books published throughout the decades following the supposed events.

So why do I care? I’m studying the history of the automobile and I keep coming across mistakes, misinterpretations and outright lies. My instinct is to go to Wikipedia and correct the issue. Unfortunately, the old car pages are mostly maintained by people who believe their version of history is carved in stone. Their stone. I have never been able to get a change approved. So I gave up.

Now I just vent my frustration by complaining.

Face The Crowd

 

My animated stand-in fulfills my desire/fear

acorn

The Martyrdom Of Saint Gravely

 

The best place in Walmart to cry is the cereal aisle. You will be mostly ignored and occasionally joined in your endeavor. On this day though, my cry was interrupted by the sound of odd footsteps behind me. I turned to see a person in a Goofy costume running towards me. Before my fight-or-flight decision could be made, a small woman, obviously a librarian, ran past me and proceeded to beat Goofy about the head and chest with an aluminum softball bat.

The police were not impressed with my reporting of the crime. I was delighted by my description of the vibrating clang of the aluminum bat bouncing off Goofy’s skull versus the sickening thud of the fleshier strikes. Apparently the phrase “She was obviously a librarian” does not help the police identify the subject, even though it eliminates the billions of people who aren’t obviously librarians.

Hair color, eye color, height, and weight are the things the cops are looking for. My state of shock prevented those details from entering my perception. She was smaller than Goofy, but since Goofy was nearly seven feet tall, that didn’t help. How did I know it was a softball bat? Don’t know, but it turns out I was right.

The man in the Goofy costume died from the attack. We didn’t really know if he was dead or alive till the cop removed the costume head. Sort of like Schrödinger’s Mascot. The bloody pulp beneath left no room for interpretation. Upon seeing the real man’s face, I felt pangs of guilt, having done nothing to save his life. Not that I know CPR, or the Heimlich or whatever you do to help a man bludgeoned by a librarian.

The newspaper identified the victim as a man named Gravely, and apparently he was a saint. He was involved with every kid-centric charity in the county. He gave generously of his time and money. He had no children of his own. The obit said he was married but failed to name his wife. Could she be a librarian thought I.

I am ashamed to say that I was entirely wrong about the killer. She was not a librarian. She was the owner of a bookstore in the next county. The trial was such a mess that the newspaper stopped reporting on it after day two. Rumors flew but proved tame and lame compared to the reality that played out in the courtroom.

When it was all done, the killer got just two years, the sheriff got fired, a local pastor got “reassigned,” and eight families with little children moved away, putting the local pogo stick factory out of business. It is said that St. Gravely should have gotten life in prison, but being dead already put a damper on his indictment.

Out of curiosity I visited the killer’s bookstore. It was just a bookstore, with no indication of its owner's crimes. It did, however, have a used mystery paperback rack with lots of Nero Wolfe books and a cute clerk about my age who now sells me a new used book every other week or so.

There's One In Every Crowd

Is there a way out?

Small Screens

A new short video, as in, short on plot. Where does the tuth lie?