Black Spot

Thanks for all your thoughtful replies to yesterday's post about local news. I'm glad to see that so many of you value it and keep track of it in one way or another. Even those of you who choose not to have given me food for thought, whether local news feels irrelevant to your daily life or you have concerns about the ownership or quality of your local media outlets.

However, one thing that occurred to me while reading your responses is that we here in blogland are not a representative slice of the population. I'm sure you'll agree that we tend to skew older, at the very least, and we probably all tend to be readers. I wonder if younger people are paying more or less attention to local news, and in what form?

Anyway, enough of that. Obviously, since it's my industry, I could talk about it all day long, but we'll let it rest for now.

When Dave and I went to L.A. a couple of weeks ago, I borrowed some related reading material from the library for the trip. One of the books is a collection of writing by Raymond Chandler, a well-known mid-century detective novelist who I had never read. I'm reading Chandler's "The Long Goodbye" right now, and I am loving it. His protagonist, Philip Marlowe, is the epitome of the hard-bitten, trenchcoat-wearing, wisecracking detective, and Chandler's writing is really good. I can see how it's inspired so many parodies and imitators, but I'm impressed at his turn of phrase -- his word use surprises and delights at every turn.

In the book, Marlowe mentioned being handed a $5,000 bill bearing James Madison's portrait. I thought, "Does such a thing exist?" (Obviously I have never seen one!)

It turns out they used to exist -- along with $500, $1,000 and $10,000 notes, as well as a $100,000 "gold certificate" used only for transactions within the federal reserve. All those bills were discontinued in 1969, but you can see pictures of them at the link above. They're still legal tender and could theoretically still be circulated, but the ones that survive nowadays are probably all in the hands of collectors.

Also, at one point Chandler offered a detailed description of a woman's hands, including her painted fingernails. This reminded me that I forgot to mention another experience on our L.A. trip. We flew Virgin Atlantic from London to L.A., and we had three male flight attendants serving us in our cabin. All three of them had expertly painted fingernails -- bright red, to match their Virgin uniforms. Dave and I agreed that having one male attendant with painted nails would be unusual enough, but having three was quite remarkable. We wondered if they all went out for a manicure together before the flight! (For the record, I wholeheartedly approved.)

Here's my own fingernail mystery. This is my left thumb. Last week, in the library, I had to make a sign using a Sharpie marker, and not long afterward I noticed this black spot near my thumbnail. I figured I accidentally got ink on my finger and didn't think any more about it. But the spot stayed and stayed, though countless hand-washings and dish-washings and showers, and I thought, "Hmmmm. It must not be ink."

To be honest, I can't see it very well -- it's tiny and my eyes, even with glasses on, aren't entirely cooperative. So I went to the school nurse yesterday and said, "What IS this?"

He thinks I injured my finger somehow and it's basically an internal bruise. He said it should disappear over time. It's possible I did it while working in the garden, perhaps cutting blackberry vines, and maybe I just didn't immediately notice it. It doesn't hurt at all. I'll be keeping an eye on it, though!

(Top photo: A nighttime street scene in Vauxhall, on Sunday.)