Rear Window

I know. I know. This is my second recent post on old movies, but I can't help what catches my interest. You're gonna have to bear with me. Yesterday, while Officer B was cruising the web for kevlar vests for K-9's (that's a developing story that I promise to tell later - and yes, our dogs are fine.) I ran across Alfred Hitchcock's Rear Window on TCM.



The first time I saw this movie I was 17 (Can you believe that no one bothered to educate me sooner?). It was a Saturday and I was getting ready to go to my crummy job as a clerk at the local drug store. I hated that job, but I liked having pocket money. Anyway, I noticed that my mother was engrossed in something she was watching on TV. This was pretty rare because there was very little on the television, other than football, that mother considered worth her time. She generally referred to it as the Idiot Box and tried to discourage my sister and me from spending any time worshiping in front of it.

I was procrastinating so I sat down and got sucked in too. "What are we watching?" I interrupted. "Rear Window," she whispered, her eyes glued to the screen. I had to leave for work about the time that the little dog was digging in the flower garden. It was hard to walk away. What was buried in the flower bed? Did Mr. Thorwald kill his wife? What outfit would Grace Kelly wear next? Mother wouldn't tell, "You'll just have to watch it." I spent my entire shift thinking about it. I stopped at the video store after work and rented the movie (see, the advantage of having pocket money). My life has never been the same. This movie is solely responsible for my addiction to mysteries. When I think of all the money I have spent on mystery novels and movie tickets, I almost cringe - almost.