It must have started in the 90's when the re-runs began airing on AMC.
I remember being glued to the t.v. (I couldn't have been older than 15) cross-legged on the floor soaking in the genius of a detective that existed only in stories.
I remember the blue carbuncle and the hounds and the lady who almost captured the detective's heart. The dancing men, and the red-headed league.
Moriarty and Watson.
It's almost impossible to pick a favorite mystery and how?
It's also next to impossible to read the adventures and not picture Jeremy Brett running through the streets of London cane waving wildly in the air.
He was the definitive. Always will be.
(Not that Robert Downey Jr. didn't do the best he could!)
And if you start digging you find he shared a lot with the detective.
A tortured genius not quite right in body and soul.
I'm leaving tomorrow to visit my Dad and this time we're meeting halfway in Sherlock's city.
(Hopefully the cold and riots will stay away)
Only a handful of days, but one of them will involve a visit to 221B Baker Street.
My only regret?
I'm pretty sure the good detective isn't at home. ;)