Category Archives: humor

Out of Adjectives

Posted on May 2, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

It’s no use. For at least the next week this blog is either going to be All Harvey All The Time or post after post of me writing about the fact that I’m not writing (the irony is not lost on me).

I even had a great Mohawk Valley topic. Saturday night Tracy dragged us to Holland Patent to see the most wonderful folk concert. Jam Crackers was performing at a coffee house at the First Presbyterian Church on Park Street. The group consists of Dan Berggren, Peggy Lynn and Dan Duggan.

Oh are they ever good! I literally had tears in my eyes because the harmony was so beautiful, especially when they sung a cappella (my computer is telling me that is misspelled, but I looked in the dictionary). The instrumentals were incredible, too. Steven and I knew of Dan Duggan’s skill on the hammered dulcimer; we have not one but two Christmas CDs by him. Peggy played the concertina, or squeeze box, as I thought it was called. They also played guitar, as did Dan Berggren.

What a voice Peggy has! She can do folk, gospel, blues and look like she’s having a wonderful time doing it. Dan Berggren has a beautiful bass voice. I loved the lyrics on the songs he wrote.

I’m really out of adjectives to describe these folks, so I guess it’s just as well I’m not doing a blog post on the concert. I would probably also run out of adjectives to describe the yummy pies that were available at intermission (well maybe “yummy” is all I really need).

I see I’m over 200 words. Not a great blog post but respectable. And I guess it’s just as well to keep the non-great posts short. I have to go get ready for my Harvey rehearsal.

I thought of the title for this after I wrote it. Now I think I should write a better blog post to go with that title. Perhaps another day.

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The Play’s the Thing

Posted on April 30, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Ah what a weekend I had. And I feel utterly incapable of writing a blog post about it.

I mentioned going All Boilermaker All The Time after the play. I can’t help thinking that until the play I ought to go All Harvey All The Time.

That said, I’m not sure what to write about Harvey at this time. I’ve written about working on the set (I was no help). I’ve given a bare bones plot summary (not very definitive). I’ve given dates and times (May 4, 5, 6, 10, 11, 12; at 8 p.m. except Sunday May 6 at 2) and location (The Stables, Remington Avenue, Ilion, NY). For those details you can also go to the web site, http://www.ilionlittletheatre.org or Ilion Little Theatre Club’s Facebook page.

This being a personal blog, I suppose it would be legitimate for me to write about the difficulty I’ve had learning lines, my lack of self-confidence, my stress levels — in short all the angst or, dare I say, drama that comes from being in a play. But who wants to read about that? I don’t even want to write about it. I’m still pretending that it’s been a breeze to learn lines, that I exude self-confidence; stress, what’s that?

Rehearsals are going pretty well. The set looks better every day. I’m pretty impressed with the set. Ilion Little Theatre stage is not that big, and there is not a lot of space back stage. It’s not easy to do a play with two completely different sets. The last play that needed more than one setting, Old Ladies’ Guide to Survival, accomplished it by utilizing the space in front of the closed curtain. This time the problem has been solved by… but I’ll wait, and let the audience be surprised.

And that’s the problem with talking about these things ahead of time. When I am in the audience, I like to be surprised. I don’t want to sit there thinking, “Oh, this must be the part where X does Y.” So I find it difficult to say too much. But perhaps you have seen the movie numerous times and have attended other productions of the play. Perhaps you can recite some of the lines along with the cast. If that is the case, well, you don’t need me to say much about it. And I think you will enjoy our production. Come see us.

Only two more weeks till Harvey, just over two months till the Boilermaker, then I can be back to my Mohawk Valley Girl Ways.

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Was That a Training Run?

Posted on April 28, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I shall do my favorite Saturday thing of writing a post about this morning’s run. Perhaps I should warn my readers (if any) that after the play is over (Harvey at Ilion Little Theatre, etc.), my blog may be about All Boilermaker All The Time. I have to train! I’m getting nervous!

Actually, I say I am training for the Boilermaker, but it doesn’t really feel as if I’m training. For one thing, I have no real clear idea of how to train, other than the increase by 10 percent each week thing advised by the guys at the Sneaker Store. I just go running. I write down what I run in a little book. I try to do better as time goes on. Is that training? I suppose I ought to know these things, but heavens, I can’t know everything.

Be that as it may, I ran early, as I like to do. Actually, by 7:30 a.m. on a weekday I would have been at work, worked and had a break already. On a Saturday, I had coffee, read the paper and played solitaire. I set out before I got too hungry and ate, then would have to wait for my food to digest.

The thermometer in my house said 35 degrees, so I put on leggings and my long-sleeved ARMY t-shirt. Winter running socks, which have the advantage that they are long enough to cover the bottoms of the leggings. I hate that little strip of ankle that gets exposed when the two don’t meet. Headband to cover my ears. The sleeves of the t-shirt are long enough to pull down over my hands. I was set.

For the first few minutes I regretted that I had not worn a sweatshirt as well. For the entire run, I wished I had brought a handkerchief or tissue. I spent a good portion of the time pondering the wording of a Facebook post about how my nose ran more than my body. Never came up with anything good.

I ran up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. My body told me don’t do it, but as usual I did not listen. The only downside, really, was that the road is so shaded. I was really appreciating the sun this morning. I thought ahead to July and August, when I will be loving the shade. No matter. My body soon heated itself by effort. Only my nose was still cold.

When I got up to the college, I continued on up Reservoir Road. That meant I was still going uphill, so I could feel virtuous about that. I saw a little beach ball in a ditch. It looked like one of those promotional giveaways. I like a little beach ball. I stopped to pick it up, wondering how awkward it would be to carry a little beach ball for the rest of my run. It was too awkwardly placed to get without major effort, so I gave it up and kept running.

I saw two girls getting out of vehicles in the gymnasium parking lot. One of them made a noisy yawn, or maybe it was an oh-my-back groan. I reflected that it was an unconscionably early hour for many people. Not for us factory workers. I felt virtuous again.

HCCC is a beautiful campus. I like to run around it. I think how I would like to work there, but they never hired me or even called me for an interview. I daresay I lack the right qualifications. Well, I like the job I have now anyways. So there.

I ran down the front way, very steep. A truck came up, and the driver nicely slowed down and moved over partway into the other lane. I waved a thank you, and he waved back. Then two cars zinged by and I don’t think the drivers were paying the slightest bit of attention. Luckily it is a wide shoulder.

I ran by the high school, which I usually save for Sunday. There are often things going on at a high school on a Saturday. Today there were no cars out front. A couple drove into the lot and around the back, but I didn’t get in their way so that was OK.

I ran over the footbridge spanning the stream, which brought me to the parking lot slash road where I often find coins. Dropped by careless people or left by the angels to encourage me? Could be both. I saw a guy playing basketball. Would I feel silly stooping to pick up dropped coins with a basketball player as witness? It did not arise, as there were no coins. Did the angels think I need no encouragement? Maybe the basketball guy picked up any coins. Maybe he needed the encouragement. I ran on.

I did reach the “I can rock this” stage on my run, although my legs warned me they would not be able to rock this all day. At least I rocked it for 44 minutes, the length of time I ran last Sunday. Not quite halfway to my last year’s Boilermaker time (about 109 minutes, if I recall)(too lazy to walk downstairs and look at where Steven wrote it down). I’ll get there. And I’ll write a bunch of blog posts along the way. Stay tuned!

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I Should Write a Better Lame Post

Posted on April 28, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

For two Fridays in a row my Happy Friday Mood has eluded me. Two Fridays ago I did not feel completely cheated, though, because I spent all day Thursday enjoying a Happy Because Tomorrow Is Friday Mood. Then again, that raises the question (note: it RAISES the question, it does not beg the question; that means something entirely different): how many good moods per week is one allowed? Stand by for some half-baked philosophy.

For those of you just tuning in, I’ll just mention quickly that this is Lame Post Friday, my day of random observations and half-baked philosophy. For regular readers (hi, Aunt Mary!), sorry if I bore you by repeating it.

Some people seem to be in a good mood all the time. Others not so much. Some people seem to be in a really, really rotten mood all of the time, they are so ill-used. And here is a not so random observation: most people do not find others’ bad moods nearly as well justified as their own. “Look at him — he’s got nothing to complain about!” is the basis of many a satisfying conversation.

I can’t say whether my Happy Friday Mood has deserted me again this week, because I feel I am writing this too early in the morning. I must give my coffee a chance to kick in. I remember one Friday when I had gotten up early but come in to work at regular time exclaiming brightly to a boss, “I’ve had five cups of coffee! You gotta get some work outta me before I crash!” I don’t think I actually crashed that day. It was a good Friday (but not, you know, Good Friday).

The preceding was written in my notebook before starting work at five this morning. Um, and by notebook, I mean a spiral job with paper, not a fancy little computer. I would have to say, not a true Happy Friday Mood, but not a bad mood. I got a few good laughs out of the day. And here is some more half-baked philosophy for a Friday: as soon as you start to tell yourself you should be in a good mood, you are asking for trouble.

Ooh, here is material for a blog post all by itself: the evil word “should.” As soon as you tell yourself you “should” do something, what do you want to do? NOT THAT! ANYTHING BUT THAT! It works for everything! I should run. I’m too tired, it’s too cold, I don’t have to run if I don’t want to. I should do my blog post. I don’t have anything to say, this blog is stupid, my computer is too slow. I should write something better even on a Lame Post Friday. Oh, don’t go there; this whole thing will come to a grinding halt.

You know, I’m wondering now if I could use that to my advantage. For example, I should eat more ice cream. Hmmm… I guess it doesn’t work for everything.

So there is my Friday Lame Post. Heavy on the half-baked philosophy, light on the random observations. Happy Friday, everyone, and may you all be in a happy mood, regardless of whatever you should be doing.

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Return to the Unknown Park

Posted on April 27, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Wednesday I was determined to go running. We had no rehearsal, so I was not worried about getting too tired. In fact, it would be a good think if I tired myself out. I could definitely sleep when I went to bed early, as I intended to do.

My Sunday run was 44 minutes. I know I have previously avoided saying how long I run for fear of invoking scorn and laughter. Then again, how many people do I think read this blog? Specifically, how many marathon runners? Well, as I said earlier, point and laugh if you must. I’m sure people who see me actually running do.

Where was I? Ah yes, Wednesday. The temperature was not bad, but the wind was brisk. I could see it had rained earlier but hoped that was over. I got into my running gear and set out. I had a vague idea of running up to Herkimer County Community College (HCCC) the back way. Challenging but not too daunting. I didn’t know that I would go for 44 minutes. I thought even 20 or 30 minutes would suit my purposes. I would see how it went.

I managed to cross German Street without mishap, no mean feat in 4 p.m. Herkimer traffic. My body was not happy with me. For one thing, the brisk wind got colder. I put my headband over my ears, but there was nothing I could do for my hands. I was pretty sure already that I would not make it for forty minutes. I doubted my ability to make it up to the college. Perhaps the hill by Valley Health?

Then I remembered the Unknown Park. Some months ago I recall doing a post titled Run Through an Unknown Park. I still don’t know the name of the park, which is silly of me, because I read an article in the paper about it when HCCC students had a clean up day there (that’s not a run-on sentence; diagram it) (have you ever noticed that I us a lot of semi-colons? I love semi-colons. I think I’ll do a Friday Lame Post about semi-colons)(but I digress).

I knew the Unknown Park had some uphill stretches. It was someplace different to run. There might even be some sports games being played. It’s always nice to look at something active as you run by. I think other people’s energy travels through the air and helps me. A fanciful image, perhaps, but I’ll take anything that keeps me going. The entrance to the park is also on the same side of German Street that I was on. So I had my plan.

As I started across the entrance to be on the left side facing traffic, a car was approaching the gate to exit. I had not seen her due to the hill and curve and the fact that I don’t always pay enough attention when I’m running. I waved an “I’m sorry,” although I think I got across without obstructing her. She gave me the “That’s OK” wave, so that was OK.

I started up the hill. Not too steep but steep enough to bug me. Oh, I have not been getting enough sleep. It was fun to run on a gravelly dirt road for a change. No sports games were going on. There wasn’t even anyone letting their dog run in the big fields, as there sometimes is. I wondered if my dog would like to go there and run.

I saw a steep grassy bank on the other side of one field. Nothing I’d care to run up, even if I had gotten enough sleep. I saw some tire tracks dug into it. The tracks went partway up then stopped. I wondered what mishap had occurred and hoped that someone had been taping it for future inclusion in World’s Dumbest. World’s Dumbest Daredevils or Thrillseekers or even Motorheads. I watch them all.

As I continued running the wind picked up and got more bitter. The park is a lovely, woodsy setting, but it’s always cooler near the trees. I contemplated how welcome the coolness would be this summer but was not enjoying it on Wednesday. Was that a raindrop? Oh dear. As I headed toward home it did start raining but did not amount to much. It had stopped by the time Tabby and I took our cool down walk.

My run did have the desired effect of helping me sleep. I didn’t even make it through the evening’s episode of World’s Dumbest. It was World’s Dumbest Criminals 5, an episode I had already seen. I think it was a pretty good run or do I flatter myself? At least I don’t think I qualify for World’s Dumbest Runner. Maybe World’s Dumbest Blogger, but let’s not go there.

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Rummaging Around Ilion

Posted on April 26, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I headed to Ilion, NY to continue my Saturday adventure (I add NY for the benefit of my readers far and wide) (if any). I knew there was a rummage sale at the Episcopal Church, and I intended to hit as the Thrift Store and a consignment shop(pe) or two.

In case anybody missed Monday’s post (how often do I expect people to read, after all?), I was on a mission to find props and costumes for Harvey, the play I am in with Ilion Little Theatre. The play is to be presented in The Stables, Remington Avenue, Ilion, May 4, 5, 6, 10, 11 and 12. Curtain time is 8 p.m. except for Sunday May 6 at 2 (it seems like a good policy to give the information every time).

As I turned up Second Avenue (or is that one Street? I get confused; anyways, it’s perpendicular to Otsego Street), I noticed a sign for another Rummage and Bake Sale at another church and said, “Goody.” The sale at the Episcopal Church had a lot of stuff, and they seemed determined to get rid of it. To that end, it was four bags for a dollar. As you went in they collected your dollar, handed you four bags and turned you loose.

I found a fancy bottle such as Steven likes to use to decorate our buffet. A nice lady wrapped it in some paper for me. I indiscriminately grabbed several evening bags for my collection, although none would work for my character in the play. I ended up giving them back two of the bags, but I definitely found a dollar’s worth of stuff.

As I parked in the parking lot of the church where I thought I saw the other sale, I saw there was no sign out front. Darn! (Not nice to use a strong cuss word in a church parking lot.) They must have packed up early. What time was it? No matter.

Then as I drove the rest of the way down Second, I realized my silly mistake. I had the right time but the wrong church. Lots of churches in that little section of Ilion. One might get confused. I am a little embarrassed to admit, I can’t remember the name of either church. Steven and I even drove by the second one on the way home from rehearsal last night but could not make out the sign.

That sale was the most picked over. I overheard a lady saying you had to get to these things as soon as they open.

“But when you come late, if you do find something, it’s a great deal,” I said.

She agreed, but obviously felt her early bird ways were better. To each his own, as the old lady said when she kissed the cow.

I was out of rummage sales, so it was on to consignment shops and the Thrift Store, or Salvation Armani, as I’ve recently heard the latter called. Sounds like a good topic for another post (oh, I do love stretching my Saturday adventures to several posts). Stay tuned!

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Excuses, Excuses

Posted on April 25, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Now I’ve done it, now I have done it. This is another fine mess I’ve gotten myself into! Now look what I did! (Substitute “you” for “I” and the first two are quotes from movies and the third is just something I like to say.) (Oh, and “me” for “myself,” but you probably figured that out already.)

I went the whole day without writing my blog post, then I got home from work and did not go running so as to have something to write about. I had an idea earlier that I would just write off the cuff about why I haven’t written anything, but you know, it isn’t Lame Post Friday. Then again, I don’t think I posted lamely last Friday, so maybe it will be OK.

In my defense, I spent my breaks at work studying my lines for Harvey, which is to be presented by Ilion Little Theatre, The Stables, Ilion, NY. Production dates are May 4, 5, 6, 10, 11 and 12. Times are 8 p.m. except for Sunday, May 6, which is 2 p.m. So you see, it is close. What, me nervous? YES!

I haven’t had a big part in a play in a LONG time. And I didn’t have all that many big parts when I used to get big parts. Um, I think two. Two big parts. Back in the 1990s. Then one small part last year. What the hell was I thinking?

Picture me with my wrist to my forehead. Now stop playing that miniature violin and keep your sarcastic remarks to yourself. I love being in a play. I love having a big part. But I’m still working overtime, still training for the Boilermaker, still trying to write this silly blog every day, still trying to take care of my husband and dog, oh yeah and myself… something’s got to give. Today it is Mohawk Valley Girl.

So I have just written some 300 words on how I do not have time to write a blog post today. That’s kind of silly, but then I always say, go with your strengths. We’ll try this again tomorrow. As always, thank you for playing.

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Olive a Good Sammich

Posted on April 23, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Today I did something I rarely do: checked previous posts to see if I am repeating myself too egregiously (I know darn well I repeat myself; I only do so many things). I see that I did mention making egg and olive once. That time did not turn out so well. So I feel free to write about my experience of this afternoon.

It is Sunday. I spent most of the day Saturday running around having Mohawk Valley adventures of the shopping kind, but I don’t feel up to writing about that. Truth is, I don’t feel up to writing much. I felt tired to begin with, then I went on a long run and took an allergy pill afterwards. Allergy pills may put me to sleep or dope me up. Today they made me very tired and sapped out any vestige of ambition I may have had (and after my run I confess I did not have much). But I am so close to my goal of posting every day for a year, I really really want to write something.

I had put some eggs on to boil to make egg and olive for my sandwich tomorrow (I usually say “sammich” but I sometimes write “sandwich”), and went to the computer to Just Write Something. The eggs finished boiling while I was checking my email and facebook notifications. I was going to let them wait, but then I said, “Hey! I’ll make my egg and olive and blog about that!” That’s what you might call a win/win situation. Or is it multi-tasking? Killing two birds with one stone? Anyways, I thought it was a good idea.

I remembered I like to cook with wine, so I poured myself a small glass. First I put ice in the glass, to dilute it a little. I don’t want to get squiffy, I just want to cook with wine. It’s an odd phenomenon, but I find that sometimes a sip of wine counteracts the vagueness engendered by the sinus medication. Perhaps it’s placebo effect. Or I just don’t notice the allergy pill reaction any more. I’m inclined to think the former, though, because I usually take one sip, put the glass down and forget about it. That is what I did this time.

I peeled the eggs. I was about to throw out the shells when I remembered a conversation with a guy at work in which he said it was a good idea to put egg shells on the plants in your garden. I have not planted my garden yet, but I took the egg shells out and threw them onto the dirt where the garden is going to be. My dog Tabby followed me out. When I went back into the house, she went to stick her nose in the egg shells. She’s been sticking her nose in the garden dirt ever since the snow melted. I called her to come back in the house. Note to self: get fence to put around garden.

Back in the kitchen, I sliced the olives. I put them in a bowl with the eggs, mayonnaise and a little mustard. The mustard jar says it is Sweet Hot Dipping Mustard. I find it more sweet than hot, so I put a little horse radish in my egg and olive, to add a little zing. Then some Pampered Chef All Purpose Dill Mix, and some Lemon and Pepper seasoning. Mix, mix, trying to chop the egg whites with the fork. Ought I to have chopped them with a knife? Too late now.

A taste. Not bad. What to add? Then I remembered, chives! I have three patches of chives in my lawn which now come up every year with no effort on my part. I love chives! I ran out and got some. Chopped them small and threw them in. Another taste. I think it will do.

I put my mixture in the refrigerator for the flavors to blend. I’m sure this will be a delightful addition to my lunch tomorrow, in a whole wheat pita. In the meantime, I picked up the glass of wine I had forgotten about earlier, and I’m considering cooking dinner. I think I’m on a roll.

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Running When You Gotta Go

Posted on April 22, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

I heard it was supposed to get cold and rain on Saturday, so I set out early, well, early-ish to run. Since it was prior to 8 a.m., I thought I could get away with running a little ways up Route 28. I intended to drive that way later, in search of Mohawk Valley adventures, so I thought I could set my mileage thingy and see how far I had gone.

Right away I could tell it was still a good temperature for running. Aaah! Less than two blocks into the run, I had to go to the bathroom. “No way,” I told myself. “You just peed! This is habit bladder!” Then I pondered further and realized, I had forgotten to go. Let’s see, brushed teeth, decided to get dressed and then pee, got dressed, started running. Damn! How could I forget something that basic?

Now what? I hadn’t gone that far; I could turn around and go back. It might upset the dog. When she sees me after I leave to run, she expects to walk a cool down with me. Anyways, once I start running, I want to run, I don’t want to stop. Oh, I could wait. I intended to run 40 minutes. Could I wait 40 minutes? “Fight habit bladder, fight habit bladder,” I urged myself. After all, I obviously hadn’t really had to go before I left or I wouldn’t have forgotten. I just like to go before I leave the house. A habit my mother taught me.

I thought briefly of running in a different direction, like maybe to McDonald’s and using their bathroom. Then I thought, I’m running out Route 28. Isn’t that out of town? Doesn’t it get rural and woodsy? Maybe I could find a friendly tree. I don’t run out that way very often, so I couldn’t say for sure I would find such a tree, but I thought the odds seemed good. Then I thought, I could also run the other way on 28 and come to Hannaford. They opened at seven and have a perfectly nice bathroom. It would mess up my mileage checking plan, but still.

Friendly tree or respectable grocery store? Friendly tree or respectable grocery store? I pondered as I ran. Waiting a full 40 minutes seemed an increasingly less viable option. Then I considered, I’ll probably blog about this (as you see). I think it is not quite legal to pee behind a tree, however friendly, within village limits. Might not be the sort of thing to put out on the internet for all to see (um, I mean to read about; I did not intend to take a picture or anything).

Then I got to the H.A.R.C building at the end of German Street and I saw it! A porta potty, apparently for whoever was doing all the work on the building and grounds. They don’t lock those things, do they? I sprinted towards it and hoped for the best. Success! It was open and not too dirty. There was plenty of toilet paper (I even managed to blow my nose, which usually needs it). Oh, I was happy.

As I continued my run out Route 28, I was extremely grateful for the porta potty. There were trees, but they did not look very friendly and they certainly did not look discreet. There were more houses that way than I remembered. In short, there was no handy place for a tinkle.

I did not run very far out the highway, though, because traffic was heavier than I like. It wasn’t horrible, but enough cars were zooming by me that I was not comfortable. When I drove out that way later I found I had gone more than a mile but less than a mile and a half. I had still run for my forty minutes, though, by dint of following other streets.

I felt pretty happy about my run: beat the rain, beat the cold. It was important to me to get the run in, because I only ran once since Sunday. I had intended to run on Friday, but came home from work with the most debilitating headache. You know, the kind of headache where, when you realize your head has finally stopped hurting, you want to weep with gratitude. Maybe some people can run with such a headache. I cannot.

On the Boilermaker route, there are porta potties. There are usually lines for them. 14,000 runners, I guess there would be. I shall plan to get to the starting line early enough to wait in line for a pre-run tinkle. Just another thing to think about as I train.

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A Shriek on the Screen

Posted on April 21, 2012 by mohawkvalleygirl

Here is another post on a Horror Classic which turned out to be less cheesy than anticipated. To recapitulate for readers who just tuned in: 50 Horror Classics is a DVD set I gave my husband Steven, and we have been enjoying some pretty cheesy old movies. So naturally I’ve been blogging about them. Yesterday I did a post on one that was less cheesy than others. Likewise the one I’m going to talk about today.

A Shriek in the Night (1933) stars Ginger Rogers, who famously did everything Fred Astaire did only backwards and in high heels (just had to throw that in). This is apparently one of her first movies, and, alas, she does not dance.

The movie starts right out with a shriek. I was a little worried the movie was over already. I mean, hello, there’s the shriek, now what? But there are more shrieks as we go along. Not too many, though. After all, it’s not a ’70s slasher flick.

A man has jumped or been thrown from a penthouse balcony (hmmm… which do you suppose it is?). When we meet Ginger Rogers, she is being questioned by a cop, because she is secretary to the dead guy. Such an attractive live-in secretary raises some officers’ eyebrows, but she assures them there is a dumb, utterly respectable maid to chaperone. The maid, the cop decides, may be respectable but is certainly dumb. She was my favorite character. She added some comic relief and a few shrieks, but they came later. My other favorite character was a hapless cop who couldn’t seem to do anything right.

We soon discover that Ginger is really an intrepid girl reporter. I was glad to hear that. I love intrepid girl reporters, like Fay Wray in The Mystery of the Wax Museum (see post back in, I think January). Ginger is perhaps not as intrepid as Fay and she doesn’t crack as wise, but she helps unravel the mystery. Ginger butts heads with a brash boy reporter, who seems to want to both scoop and marry her. The plot thickens with another shriek and another murder.

It seems the victims all receive a card with a snake and the words, “You will hear it.” What they will hear is the hissing of the steam pipe. I bet the writers rubbed their palms together when they came up with that one. Imagine watching a scary movie where the steam pipe hisses before the murderer strikes, then going home and hearing your steam heat whistle. Do people still heat their houses with whistley steam pipes? I’ve never heard it, with or without a murder.

The movie is fairly scary and suspenseful. And the solution to the mystery holds up. At least, I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night saying, “Wait a minute!” Well, maybe one thing. I’m not clear on how Ginger Rogers escaped the deadly peril she inevitably found herself in. Oh, I saw the cops and boyfriend rush in, but the bad guy had already lit the incinerator. Where was she that she didn’t burn up or die of smoke inhalation?

Oh dear, now I’ve gone and revealed the climax. At least I didn’t say who the bad guy was or how Ginger ended up in the incinerator. And I’m sure nobody really thought the main girl would succumb to the deadly peril, so you can’t really ding me on revealing that she was rescued.

It was a fun watch. It held my interest, which some of the cheesier movies in the collection have not. I’ll let you know how I enjoy the next one. After all, the weekend’s coming.

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