A few weeks ago, possibly on the airplane, I mentioned to Daughter that I would like a drone for my birthday. It popped out of nowhere, like a drone your neighbor couldn’t control very wellI’ve always wanted a drone to shoot the Cool Videos you see, and so I said it would be a nice birthday present. Just something she could pass along to my wife, perhaps, but no: she got me one on her own account, and wisely did not break the bank, because who knows whether I’d use it.

Well, I do, and I’m happy to say it’s a nice starter drone, in the sense that you don’t feel bad banging an expensive piece of gadgetry into a fence or the side of the house or sending it into a tree where it chops up the leaves until it breaks a propeller blade on a branch.

Haven’t done that yet.

It’s taken a while to get the hang of it. The controller is like a console controller, and I am not good with those. The battery lasts about six minutes, so it’s hard to get a lot of practice time in -

Yes, six minutes. The first time it died I thought it was broken. Upon reading reviews I saw recommendations to get extra battery packs, and indeed the manual said they would send me two free batteries in exchange for a review on Amazon.

That assures a stream of four- and five-star notices, eh?

Let’s have a look at the manual, which has the usual translation issues; it refers to something called "gavity," which affects the drone's ability to go up and down. Or it's what your dentist says you have, if he suffers from a cold.

The interface for the controller: myyyyy gosh

On day two, this perfect summation of the joys and trials:

The resolution of the video makes my backyard lawn look horrible. When you see it from a sitting position in the gazebo it’s much better. We had a horrible grub infestation last year and it’s been dry and I should have seeded more but the ground is SOW-AH

UPDATE: I am here to tell you that it takes four days to absolutely master a drone so you can whip it around its paces with consummate skill. I say that as someone who crashed it into the top braces of a tree after three days.

This seems determinedly unSherlockian.

But the series always had a vibe of sorta-horror, given its Universal pedigree.

It begins with someone jumping out a window, and apparently there’s been a few:

He says “another pyjama suicide.” We go to someone on the floor:

Another! We see a body falling down a stairwell . . .

And then:

So if the guy going down the stairwell was the third, how could the first be called another pajama suicide? HMMMMM? Time to bring in Sherlock! Everyone’s wondering why he isn’t on the case. It’s because . . .

He’s fishing. But you know, Watson, he’s going to give up fighting crime. He’s having dizzy spells. Cerebral mumbojumbitis? says Watson, worried. (I’m paraphrasing.) Well, we’ll run some tests when we get back. Meanwhile, why don’t you go stand on that slippery rock.

It’s like Batman died:

Okay, you know and I know that he’s alive, because whenever he goes over a cliff into the water, it’s for a good reason. Seems strange they’re doing the Reichenbach Falls fall without Moriarty-grappling, but this movies do play fast and loose.

A postman shows up w ith a package for Sherlock Olmes, and, well, I mean, c’mon. He starts ragging on Holmes’ overblown rep.

He explains that he had to die to solve the Pyjama Murders, as he calls them - and he suspects a woman!

He meets her right away, and he's wearing an impenetrable disguise:

A man from the Mysterious East. India, of course. Anyway, I won't bore you with the plot; let's just say it ends up at a circus. Who's this?

The lettering's wrong for the era. Wait a minute, what era is this?

Ah, it's the 40s.

Shooting gallery fun.

Now, this fellow . . .

Quite the life.

Small in stature at only 2' 11", but big in demand onscreen, the diminutive Angelo Rossitto was one of Hollywood's busiest "small" actors and appeared in over 70 feature films between 1927 until 1987!

Born in Omaha, Nebraska in February 1908, Rossitto first appeared in silent films alongside stars such as Lon Chaney and John Barrymore. In subsequent years Rossitto also regularly popped up alongside Bela Lugosi in villainous roles, and was a stunt double for Shirley Temple.

He was in Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, and I'm certainly he's the only one connected with this movie who was.

Finally: you can tell the war's almost over, because there's no bucking-up speech at the end of this one.

Uh . . . okay.

I wish he'd stare nobly into the future and declare the victory of the English people, but you can't do that every time conversation lags.

That'll do - see you around.