This is probably too difficult to touch on (as opposed to tackle, or deal with) in a brief blog, but it might supply a catalyst for further thinking - mine. The novelist John Gardner (1933-1982) , prematurely dead in a motorcycle accident, just before his third marriage, wrote two books about writing that -forgive me - I think are going to outlive his novels. His best-known novel was Grendel, the Beowulf story told from the pov of the monster. He taught writing and his insights and exercises and assessments offer excellent stimuli to wannabe writers, but the book that sticks with me is a collection of essays and criticism titled Moral Fiction. He thought that writing should be moral, not in the religious sense but in the acknowledgement of universal truths. He thought hat you had to be a good person to be a good writer. If you weren't that good, then writing well might make you a little better. That's my over-simplification, I guess, but bear with me. In order to create whole, believable characters, a writer has to have insight, and tolerance, He has to get inside the heads of all the people she writes about. I think this is even truer for a playwright, but then, I'm biased. It shows, though. The writer's intimate knowledge of the character in attitudes, speech and behaviour produces a fully rounded, living, breathing human being, criminal or not. Such intimacy fosters love. Doesn't it? Some kind of love. Oh, if only!

It's late, I'm getting incoherent. I'll try again tomorrow.

I did, and I amended it, but it's still not what it should be. Anon, anon.

I think of lots of blog topics when I'm not in front of the computer but when I open it up, I go dry and can't remember a thing. Now I have a blog folder into which I stick cryptic notes and hope they mean something to me later. So here are some thoughts for memory lane, if you're old enough to join me. I wrote down some brand names of popular female products not from my time but from my mother's and older cousins,

Mother used Pond's cold cream. I think her cologne was named "Mimsy" (as in borogoves? I doubt it.) I used to buy her a bottle for her birthday and she was effusively thankful about it. We had a maid in the days before the war. Once in a while she took me with her on her day off (Thursday afternoon). I suppose my mother had an engagement. Anyway, Jean's "perfume" was called Ben Hur, and it came in a precious little cobalt blue bottle that I wish I had now because I collect blue bottles. There was another fragrance in a blue bottle called "Midnight in Paris". A little later, in my teen-time, but I didn't wear nail polish and still don't, there was an exotic brand called Chen Yu and it came in dark colours: green, black and blue, way ahead of its time. I see young women on the subway wearing those colours but now they have stars and squiggles and all sorts of motifs on top of the colours.

I can still remember the products that sponsored the Eddie Cantor show on radio: "Ipana for the smile of beauty and Sal Hepatica for the smile of health." Oh, and I can sing the jingle for Bryl Cream: "Bryl Cream, a little dab'll do ya/ Bryl Cream, you'll look so debonair. Bryl Cream, the gals will pursue ya/Simply dab a little in your hair."

It was years before I understood the pun in the Fisk tire ad. A little kid in his nightshirt, holding a candle, is being told "Time to re-tire." And then there was the Bon Ami slogan.I think Bon Ami was some kind of household cleaner for glass or something fragile, because the line went "hasn't scratched yet," with the picture of a cute little baby chick.

Well! This has drawn up a little heap of memories that probably don't mean anything to you youngsters. But if you're hockey fans I bet you can sing the Hockey Night Song even though it's long since off the air. Me, I remember the song the Happy Gang used to sing on noon-time radio. Keep smiling.