William Powell and Myrna Loy and Ian Osmond and Lis Riba

We’re watching After the Thin Man on DVD.

Nick has just come to bed, absolutely exhausted. Nora wakes up and starts talking to him. She begins to hint that she wants him to make scrambled eggs for her. (Admittedly, this is partially in revenge for him having her thrown in jail for an hour or so earlier in the night -- they’ve got the BEST relationship.)

After a couple minutes of banter:

NORA: Nick, can you reach the water?
[NICK reaches over the water carafe and hands it out to her.]
NORA: No, I didn’t want the water -- I just wanted to make sure you could reach it.
[NICK gives up, and starts to get out of bed.]
NICK: I’ll go make you those eggs.

LIS: I’ll have to remember that one.
IAN: It worries me that you get your wife-ing lessons from Myrna Loy as Nora Charles.

On height, and lack thereof

I’m not sure why, but people often tend to not realize how short I am. Maybe it’s because men who are short are supposed to be touchy about it in American culture, and I’m not. Maybe it’s because my torso is pretty much normal sized and most of my lack-of-height is in my legs.

Or maybe it’s because I’m Jewish and live in New England, and MOST people I know are around my height and so I’m not unusual. I mean, I went to Brandeis.

But this thing about people not realizing how short I am was brought home very strongly a couple days ago. Lis was reading a biography of Harry Houdini, who WAS touchy about his lack-of-height.

“He was 5’4”,” Lis said. “He was shorter than YOU.”

“Not by much,” I said.

“You’re 5’8”,” she said.

“I’m 5’5”,” I said.

My own wife thinks I’m three inches taller than I am.

Of course, just this second, while typing this up, I said to Lis, “Houdini was YOUR height. You’re 5’4”, right?”

She looked at me. “I’m 5’2”.”