It is a sad fact but true that neither my husband or I can watch the Sherlock Holmes mystery series anymore. I just can't do it, much as I love Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman.  My mind no longer has the processing speed necessary to absorb scene changes, dialogue, and the texts which flash across the screen when Sherlock is fixated on his iPhone.

Sigh. Just to make sure you understand, here is a true scenario of Rick and I sitting side by side watching the new Series 4:

"Maybe we should turn on the subtitles, honey?" He peers at the screen. But despite much fiddling and swearing, no subtitles appear.

"What did he say? Whoah, what is she doing?" I say in a piercing whisper.

"Didn't catch it. That damn English accent."

"Why are there words flashing across the screen? Can you read them?"

"You know I can't multi-task--no." He sounds resigned.

After another ten minutes where I admire Sherlock's ass, his coat with the nifty high collar, and his ability to speak at warp speed, I turn to Rick;

"I think I am too old for this. I just don't understand enough to piece together a narrative."

"Yeah, I'm with you."

And off it goes, with a sigh of relief and one of regret. Five years ago I could just about "get it" or "do it." I understood most of the plot, loved the acting, thrilled to the danger, and absorbed most of the language. But five years later?

Who knows what is happening? Hearing loss? Maybe my brain is unfolding? Of course, having chemo brain doesn't help the snappy neurons any. They are mostly limp and snoozing as far as I can tell.

But here's the thing:  Maybe it's not important. Maybe this is one of those milestones of aging, like the turning points we observed in our babies growing up:

BABY MILESTONES                                                 AGING MILESTONES
--first smile                                                                  --can't eat pizza after 8:00 pm
--baby turns over on couch                                          --4 o'clock tea keeps me awake 'til 4 am
--baby pulls self up on crib                                          --my knees lock up as I go downstairs
--toddler takes first steps                                              --I abandon tennis, back is wrecked
--kid runs across room                                                 --I get stuck in hot tub, husband hauls me out

See? They're both milestones, just at different points in one's life. I have to get used to them and maybe celebrate them in some odd way. Anyone else out there who can't process Sherlock anymore? I'm with ya! Let's pour a glass of Chardonnay or Shiraz and go read Holmes on our Kindles. I can cope with that. I think.


  1. I'm with you! Gave up halfway through, even though I liked previous seasons. Is it getting ever more frenetic, do you think? (Husband stuck it out, though, and he's a wee bit older than I am.)

    1. Sorry I wasn't checking for comments, LaVonne. I think the series has always been high energy, but I used to be able to grasp the basics. I think they have made it more frenetic and confusing.

  2. This one was definitely more confusing than the earlier ones. I couldn't read any of that stuff on the screen, but I suspect most people couldn't. I stuck with it, of course, because BENNIE, but it wasn't easy. But even with the old ones, I needed to have captions on to understand the dialect and needed to watch them more than once. I can't give on my Sherlock!

  3. We never were sure of the plot or the dialogue, which made the viewing experience exhilarating. And exhausting...
    I think we simply need to go back to the Basil Rathbone offerings. The English was comprehensible.
    Or keep watching the Benedict Cumberbatch version, if only for the butt and the collar. I refuse to make this a milestone!

    1. Clearly, I need subtitles, but even with them, I am still deeply confused. My brain starts to smoke.....

  4. How about just READING the book? that's my new take...


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