Therapeutic Sherlocking.

Driving down the interstate, listening to Sherlockians talk about making Jello . . . .

With the absolute shite that we're currently calling leadership in this country and the tragedies they are unable to address or deal with in any meaningful manner, driving down the interstate listening to Sherlockians talk about Jello is a outright oasis of joy, because you know what?

They goddamn care about that Jello. They're putting in the effort.

And this is what Sherlockiana has always, and will always be to me. A place where things don't have to be important. A place where we can make Jello about Sherlock Holmes and enjoy doing it, even if it's alcoholic jello in the shape of Sherlock's penis. (Making a big assumption there. Could be John's penis. Could be Mrs. Hudson's penis. Let's not assume.)

While all Sherlockiana spins off of those sixty stories with "by A. Conan Doyle" attached to them, so many of our most beloved tropes and rituals came almost randomly from Sherlockian interactions. The old BSI collectively saying "and there shall be no monthly meeting," when meeting schedules have nothing to do with Holmes. A scion society's annual summer picnic egg toss. A beloved restaurant where Sherlockians gather. And Jello shot penises.

A more traditional form of Sherlockian respite was saved for later in the day: Retail therapy.

Did I really need a volume of DeQuincey from Holmes and Watson's time? Or the 1924 Little and Brown edition of Doyle's Memories and Adventures? Or a spare copy of the novelization of Wilder's The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes? Probably not. But, oh, they felt so good coming into my possession. It had really been a while since any good Sherlockian bookfinds in an actual store, so it seemed like I was suddenly back in 1985. (Which ain't 1895, sure, but close!)

There are decades of difference between the worlds of ye olde bookshoppe wandering of the eighties and the latest Three Patch Sexpisode of today, but they both serve the same goals: Letting a Sherlock Holmes fan unwind. That part of Sherlock's purpose never changes.

I hope he's serving you well these days!