Somebody brought a laptop on vacation, and the condo has free long-distance calling, so we didn’t even have to figure out a local way to connect to the internet.

Couple notes: “The Wrong Man” is Hitchcock’s attempt at telling an “innocent man accused of crime” story, back before the Miranda warning, before everyone learned not to talk without a lawyer, before all the TV shows showed everyone what the inside of a jail looked like, and when a wife having a nervous breakdown still counted as suspenseful. In other words, *very boring.* On the other hand, we forgot that we hadn’t showed our parents “My Big Fat Greek Wedding” before; so we did. My mother was laughing hysterically at several points. My father pointed out several of his mannerisms that we girls can use when we make our movies. My brother is looking for a bottle of windex to use on our sunburns.

And for those of you who think George W. invented the government tapping American phones, The Doorbell Rang is a Nero Wolfe mystery where the client hires him to stop J. Edgar Hoover from trailing her because she gave away 1,000 copies of a “tell-all” book about the FBI. Paranoia about the government is an old American pastime. (Now I need to get a book about Hoover and see how much of it is true; also I need to get two books about the JFK assassination, from two different conspiracy schools, so I can find out what happened there.)

. . . We all just ran out on the deck to watch a school of dolphins playing in the surf. . .