I don't remember now if I left in a remark about the Thin Man Series. Nope, the search doesn't show it. They were clever yet screw ball mysteries, and have always appeared to me to be an antidote to the Depression. Faux-noir, perhaps. (William Powell is a favorite of mine in My Man Godfrey and Mr. Roberts.)

I've been doing what amounts to "directed screenings" of movies with my kids for several years. (They're now 12 and 15). This is an interesting way to spend an evening, and they always know that it means we'll watch at least a couple, because in the same way it is when you're singing favorite songs, one always reminds you of another.