A Voice That Is Dark Like Tinted Glass

Ah, British TV. Back when I was a kid it had all the good stuff. We watched whatever we could get. We watched Monty Python in black and white on PBS. Glued to the TV every week to see which queen was getting shortened a bit in The Six Wives of Henry the VIII, still unsurpassed for the Tudor topic. Who didn’t love the Carnaby Street psychedelia of The Prisoner? No one I know. Memorized Fawlty Towers, of course.

Much too young to see Honor Blackman in the leather jumpsuit, however. But somehow, we never felt we had missed out on anything. We wanted a girl with a mind like a diamond. We got one.