Corrections, annotations and observations.

(Editor’s Note: The Fortnightly Dispatch is a new and regular feature sponsored by The Baker Street Journal, produced by Steve Doyle, BSI. New episodes are available every few weeks. You should watch the next one, which features Robert Katz. With Bob in the interviewee seat, chances are it will be much better than this one.)

A few weeks back, Steve Doyle mentioned during a Zoom happy hour that he was starting a new project to help keep us all entertained during these odd times. Not long afterwards, he dropped me a note and asked if I would be willing to be interviewed for the first of a new video blog series called “The Fortnightly Dispatch.” I considered it for about 12 seconds, responded in the affirmative, and not long afterwards found myself the subject of one of the more delightful video conferences in recent months.

All went really well until the video was posted. You have to understand that despite a HUGE ego, I really don’t like watching myself or listening to my own voice. (It’s an occupational hazard to which I have become accustomed, because I am the spokesman for a major urban university. But that doesn’t mean I like it.)

When it was posted I took a deep breath and hit the play button. Owing to Steve’s patient nature, much of the video is a delight, and I have to tell you that after a bit, I forgot Steve and I were separated by many miles of coaxial cables. We wound up chatting much as we do whenever we are together. I even was getting used to my annoying voice when, at just under 5 minutes in, I detected my first blunder. The longer it went on, the more reasons I had for groaning.

So, to set the record straight and attempt to make a little bit of sense out of these ramblings, I decided to post the video here and offer you “The Annotated Fortnightly Dispatch, No. 1.”

The numbers indicate roughly how far into the interview each item comes up.

4.40: I cite an old and “forgotten” publication called Reedy’s Weekly.
Evidently I forgot it too. It was Reedy’s Mirror, not Reedy’s Weekly.
I wish I could blame this memory fart on the beer, but it’s more old age than anything else.
The analogy to TV Guide is also a fail. Ready’s Mirror was more the Reader’s Digest of its time, but with original articles rather than reprints of stuff from other magazines. So now that I think about it, it’s really not like Reader’s Digest at all.
I’m going to stop while I’m behind.

6.40: The first rush to the shelves. There are several things of note here.
- First, I almost couldn’t find my copy of the December 1930 The Golden Book Magazine. You might hear me mumbling as I thumb through the shelf of bagged pulps. I eventually found it, but the flop sweat was starting.
- You notice I wheeled my chair around rather than getting up. I wanted to avoid making the audience see me in my Grand-Dad Jeans. I’ll forget about that later. Sorry.
- Notice that cardboard box on the bottom right of the screen next to the bookcase. It does not contain severed ears in salt, but is part of my expensive and highly sophisticated home standing desk, seen in use below. I’m thinking of taking out a patent.

The Betzner Box Standing Desk. Patent pending.

Here I look like I’m juggling invisible balls.

9.15: Inner monologue: Why am I waving my hands like this?
Will it look weird? YES YOU ARE A BOOB.
Stop waving. I CAN’T. HANDS WON’T GO DOWN.
What are you saying now? I DON’T KNOW.
I CAN ONLY THINK ABOUT MY HANDS!
SOMEONE MAKE ME STOP!
PLEASE STEVE, REACH THROUGH THE SCREEN AND DO SOMETHING!

“HE’S WAVING HIS HANDS A LOT. I MEAN, A LOT!”

9:45: Steve Doyle uses The Force to make me stop waving my hands. He also sends this telepathic message :
RAY: STOP TALKING. YOU NEED TO TAKE A BREATH.
ALSO, THESE AREN’T THE DROIDS YOU’RE LOOKING FOR.

I’ve finally stopped talking. Jedi Mind Trick was successful. Thank you Steve. Are we done?

Screen Shot 2020-05-29 at 8.54.01 PM.png — Three things!

12:10: Here’s an old PR trick. I start responding to Steve’s question about how hard it must have been for isolated fans of the Holmes stories to find each other, and then pivot to the story I want to tell: Vincent Starrett’s first, and only, trip to New York for the 1934 BSI dinner. Heh.
13.18: I pretty much make a hash of this story of Starrett at his first dinner: Left important stuff out, made up a few details. You can read Starrett’s account here.
15.50: I get really uncomfortable talking about Rachel Latimer’s emotional problems.
18:10: Watch my eyes. I had my Studies in Starrett site up on the screen and was reading the birth and death dates just to make sure I didn’t get them wrong.
20:30: I’m looking for a quote that I had bookmarked earlier. I never found it, so I ended up reading from a bookmark that had a portion of the quote printed on it. And it was printed incorrectly. So what I read was wrong.
22:10: Once again, I ignore Steve’s question and discuss what I want to discuss: the three most memorable contributions of Vincent Starrett to the Sherlockian world.

22:18. Grand-Dad Jeans Alert. You might want to cover your eyes.
22:30: I gloat. It’s not pretty.
24:30: Captain Obvious reminds us that people living through historic wars don’t know how they will end. You’re welcome.
26:12: Second view of the Grand-Dad Jeans. Also, not pretty.
27:21: I pull out the page of “221B” from the manuscript of Autolycus in Limbo, a book of Starrett’s poetry. To this day, I am still kind of stunned I own this bit of Sherlockian history.
29:57: Pause for an ad for The Baker Street Journal. You should subscribe. Now would be a good time.

33:35: I’m waving my hands again.
33:50: I insult my host. This is a lot funnier if you’re both in the same room and a little drunk. Fortunately, Steve is a really good egg and goes with it.
35:10: John Bennett Shaw. I owe him so much.
35:15: Batman and Sherlock Holmes. I was wrong about the current value. Saw one online yesterday for $2.50!
39:20: I say Mother Goose several times in a row for no discernible reason. Once would have been enough, thank you.
40:50: I kinda insult Steve again, but he kinda deserves this one. Here’s the back story.
I’ve been to Steve’s place three times. For years, I’ve been inviting him to my home, but something always comes up: His cat needs a ride to a friend’s baptism. An android convention is being held down the street from his house for one hour only. The Agtones are playing at the Hollywood Bowl. All plausible, I suppose. Maybe he’ll make it to see the collection. Maybe.
44:15. A rare moment of humility. It won’t last.
47:00: The backstory: My wife and I had gone to Chicago a few years back for the Hounds of the Baskerville (sic) dinner. Our guest was Jennifer Wright, a Starrett descendant who met me at the door and handed me a scrapbook of family photos. As I was unwrapping it, Steve happened to walk in and we looked at it together. Every time I turned a page, we both let out exclamations of joy. It was a moment of excitement that’s been unmatched since.

After 50 minutes, I had wound down. It was a delightful afternoon. Thanks so much to Steve Doyle for his kindness in letting me talk about Vincent Starrett. I can’t wait to see future episodes.

And did I mention you should subscribe to The Baker Street Journal?