But past that? Some Americans will obviously argue for New York or Chicago as Sherlockian cities, and while they have their bona fides, once you get past London, what is it that makes any city a Sherlockian city?
Some have more Sherlockians on a given day than some others, but any city that a true-dressing-gown-blue fan of Sherlock Holmes wanders into can be a Sherlockian city. I've seen it wandering remote parts of Texas with Don Hobbs. I've seen it in Colorado mountain towns with John Holliday. Minnesota. Iowa. Missouri. The list goes on and on. Who would have called Santa Fe, New Mexico a Sherlockian city until John Bennett Shaw took up residence there?
So, after getting away for a few days in that over-stimulating city of Las Vegas, home to every sort of convention except . . . possibly . . . a Sherlock Holmes con.
Vegas was the last home of the author of The Encyclopaedia Sherlockiana, Jack Tracy, where I've found books of his Gaslight Publications in a second-hand bookshop. I always think of Jack, and is curious time on this Earth when I wind up in Las Vegas. But that's times past.
I could write of my considerations of Penn and Teller as a Holmes-and-Watson duo. ("Why, you are like a magician!" -- Beryl Coronet)
I could write of certain stirrings that rose up when perusing Bauman's Rare Books at the Palazzo. So many fine specimens -- no Sherlockian ones in plain sight, but I didn't stop to ask -- that one couldn't help but realize the price one might actually pay for just that one right book. I'm not even sure what that book might be, but for me, it would have Sherlock Holmes in it.
I could write of Bucket Show improv and compare the Scoop community to the Sherlockian world.
I could write of a few things with a Sherlockian bent, but it was a proper vacation, full of total distraction from normal life and recharging for a fresh return. Plenty of other ideas that will be hitting the blog soon.
Because vacation's over. Back to work.