December 14, 2020:

She loved the Perry Mason television series. To this day, so do I.

I have vivid memories from both apartments. Black and white, the powerfully hipster theme song, watching intently for the clue to the inevitable reveal. She loved guessing whodunnit. I loved the courtroom mechanics, which I internalized to such great extent that when much later in life I eventually experienced real courtrooms I was flummoxed to learn the lawyers are not allowed to approach the witness box. Which in hindsight makes much better sense.

Lost on my childhood were the Swinging Fifties overtones. Perry and Paul are hep to the scene, daddy-o. With their convertibles and posh nightclubs, the urban sophisticates out for a swingin' time once the case is concluded. Also the implication that Perry and Della are a thing, toned very very down for TV.

Today I love it especially for the images of Los Angeles in that era. Similarly why I watch Californication and Lucifer. Living vicariously, though imagery of where I'd so much rather be.