Certified Sherlockian

Look out, world, I'm certified.

After years of being told that I was genuinely certifiable, somebody finally went and did it. On the evening of January 6, 1989, deep in the heart of the nation's mightiest metropolis, the roll of newly certified Baker Street Irregulars was read by that most official afficionado of Sherlockdom, Mr. Thomas L. Stix, Jr. And, lo and behold, the name of Brad Keefauver was there for all to hear.

Yes, I am certified-a certified Baker Street Irregular. What does this mean?

According to my certificate (the most important part of being certified, you know), I am now "authorized in the purlieus of the Sherlockian world to 'go everywhere, see everything, overhear everyone'." Sounds good to me. The very next evening I resolved to put my newly bestowed certification to the test.

"Go everywhere," it said. Being in New York City, I wasn't exactly sure which part of the city would best test "everywhere." My dilemma was quickly solved, however, as a double bill of Sher lockian one-act plays was playing at an off-off-off Broadway theater, and a friend had gotten tickets. Rumor had it that the theater was not in a very good neighborhood, and was reportedly only a few doors down from the local Hell's Angels headquarters. I felt that that would serve for my first attempt at going every where, so off I went. The trip was even my first ride on a New York City subway.

So far, so good. On to "see everything."

Does the novice Irregular really need to see everything? Perhaps there should be a limit at first, some guidelines to keep the newly certified from tragically over-seeing in their early days. You can see too much, as I now know. I found out the hard way.

To test my new license to see everything Sherlockian, I decided to see the aforementioned pair of one-act plays: "Tea-time at Baker Street" and "A Case of Identity." the first of the two plays was charming, even if it did come to a rather silly conclusion. The story revolved around Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Wiggins (BSI Wiggin's mom), Mary Morstan, and Irene Adler Norton, all taking tea downstairs at 221 Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson was splendidly done, evoking my favorite Mrs. H. of all time, the Firesign Theatre version. Mary Morstan was properly blonde and frail looking, and Irene Adler was robustly American and a fairly good attempt at such a lofty goal as "the woman." The play concluded with the four women beating the tar out of Professor by Moriarty, which did seem out of place, but all in all a good time was had by everyone, especially the certified Irregulars in the audience (being all male, of course, we certifieds were bound to enjoy anything featuring Mary Morstan and Irene Adler).

Then came my tragic downfall. I just had to see everything, and seeing everything meant staying for "A Case of Identity." From the start, I'll say this -- I never did like that story. But the rendition put on in the Prometheus Theater that night was destined to give me a totally new dislike for the tale. On the good side, the play had the previous play's Mrs. Hudson back for a few lines. And on the bad side ... let me just say that if Holmes and Watson weren't still alive, they'd have spun in their graves with enough velocity to bore a trans-Atlantic tunnel that night. The Holmes portrayed was one of those balding, snippy Holmeses that one has to suffer through on occasion. The Watson, however, was unique. Picture a cross between Dudley Do-right, with his chin always thrust in the air, and one of those classic bobble-headed dog statues with the head that bobs up and down with every vibration -- that was the Watson we saw. I had definitely seen too much.

As to "overhear everyone," I didn't really need to after that little production. On the sidewalk in front of the theater, the opinions voiced ran about as one would expect them to run. Satisfied that I'd given my certification a thorough test, I was soon back in my hotel and in bed, exhausted from my first attempt to exercise my Irregularity. Soon, I think I'm going to look over the "Buy Laws" of the Baker Street Irregulars and see what other duties and powers my new certification involves. I hope they have nothing to do with bobble-head Watsons.

(Printed in Plugs & Dottles, February 1989)