Happy Birthday August Derleth

It seems kind of counter-intuitive to name someone born in February "August" but that's how they did things back in 1909

when My favorite thing about the novelist (more than 100) , short story writer (more than 150) and anthologist is that he plowed the money he got for his Guggenheim Fellowship into his comic book collection. Yes, he was a geek before it was cool. Check out what the Wikipedia has to say about him. If you're a fan of Sherlock Holmes, you must read atleast one of Derleth's "Solar Pons" stories, which are admiring pastiche of Arthur Conan Doyle's iconic detective.

Seriously Sherlick?

I enjoy Elementary, the modern-day CBS Sherlock Holmes show. I have always liked Lucy Liu and since seeing Jonny Lee Miller in the Danny Boyle-directed stage play Frankenstein, I am a big fan. (He alternated the role of the doctor and the creature with fellow Sherlock Holmes Benedict Cumberbatch, and although I am a fan of BC also, I have to say, JLM owned both parts.) I also covet that brownstone. I know it's just a set, but I want to move in. that's a cook's kitchen they have and the study, with its fire and comfy chairs is the study of my dreams.
But there are two things that drive me crazy about Elementary.  One is that the writers don't seem to know the difference between "I" and "me" and constantly give Sherlock dialogue using the wrong one. As a word snoot, I expect Sherlock to know better and it always takes me out of the episode.
The other thing that will take me out of the moment is that whenever the doorbell at the brownstone rings, either Sherlock or Watson will open it without bothering to look through the peephole to see who's on the other side.
Usually it's someone like their colleague Marcus Bell or some random guy Joan's dating. (One of whom tracked her down to see if she was "okay" after their encounter, which was kind of disconcerting to me). But they live in New York. It's like those movies and television shows (Friends, I'm looking at you) where no one bothers to lock thier doors. In New York. Seriously?
Does that bother anyone else?