What's round at both ends but literate throughout?

The Mt. Washington Library, a branch of the Cincinnati Public Library, sits at the corner of Campus Lane and Beechmont Avenue, and at the foot of the Mt. Washington water tower. (The library is just to the right of the car in the picture at left.)

It was on my way home from Guardian Angels Elementary School, and on a hot or cold day, always a good place to get, either cool or warm, and, of course, where one went to research topics for school projects, etc, since, while the nice Collier's encyclopedia set at home was fine, nothing beats the stuff you'd find at the library. (There was also an "adult" section from which kids could not read or check out books, but, if my memory serves, it wasn't anything like the adult sections of any number of places now that just seem creepy.)

The one book that I remember enjoying immensely, and of which I would love to get a copy again, was Sir MacHinery by Tom McGowen -- the kind of book, ironically, that I roll my eyes at kids' readin' today, with wizards, etc... (Of course my reading it in the early 1970s was not heralded as the salvation of reading among American youth, as so many books seem to be considered today. And it wasn't a bloody series either; Mr McGowen clearly had more than a single set of characters that he wished to develop.)

All of this comes to mind because I was perusing the annual ranking of America's "Most Literate" Cities by the CCSU President Jack Miller and saw that, in the library category, Ohio had three cities in the top 10: Cleveland #1 (overall 13th), Cincinnati #3 (tied with Portland, OR overall for 10th), and Toledo tied at #5 with Seattle (overall 48th).

To quote Chrissie Hynde utterly out of context: "A-O, way to go, Ohio!"

Of Mice and Mannix

I'm not sure when public libraries became the purveyors of late-60s/early-70s detective shows, but yesterday I picked up a few discs from the first season (1967) of a childhood favorite CBS showMannix, starring Mike Connors. The two episodes we watched were full of driving cars (Mannix tends to pursue other cars not necessarily chase them), people getting beaten up, and good-looking women (in that late-60s/early-70s way), with the smart, tough, and not-too-cynical private detective Joe Mannix solving the crimes before the credits roll.

This was a bit before I was a regular viewer because Mannix was working for a big agency, and Peggy Fair, his secretary played by Gail Fisher (hubba hubba), wasn't yet in the cast. FYI: In 1970, for her Mannix role, she became the first African American woman to win an acting Emmy.

It is always interesting to watch to see how mores have changed (beside the most obvious ones as when Joe lets his female colleague out of his car when he has to pursue some drug smugglers. Compare Astrophysicist Carla Gugino's simply refusing to get out of Dwayne Johnson's car as he heads off to bring the cute alien kids to a secret governmental hideout in Race to Witch Mountain, just released this weekend). While, as a father of girls, I'm pleased to see the portrayal of that strength, it's still annoying that we even have to waste a brief scene to somehow reaffirm its existence.

PLOT SPOILER ALERT

But other things would be different now too.

In the drug smuggling episode, for example, a young Lynda Day, before her Mission Impossible gig (hubba hubba), hires Mannix to figure out why her father keeps checking into a Mexican health spa/alcoholism clinic when he doesn't have a drinking problem. There are hints throughout the show that the special health drinks may be changing behaviors, etc...but, no, the daughter is shocked to learn from Mannix that her father is a drug dealer!

In the heated final scene, Linda, of course, who somehow ends up with a gun in her hand, is in disbelief until her father finally confesses. I'm fairly certain that, today, she just might have blasted him with a few rounds for letting her down, but, in 1967/8, dad is indeed glad he has been caught so that his daughter, who means more to him than anything, can now depend less upon him and grow more independent.

My nine-year-old, who's currently playing a rat in the Newington Children's Theatre's touring production of Sleeping Beauty (after playing a mouse in Cinderella last year), said she'd "clunk" me on the head if she learned I was a drug smuggler.

Gosh, I miss the old days!