LBD

The Little Black Dress
Is best served with red wine
To accompany the red soles
Of the pumps below it
As she moves through the bistro.

The Little Black Dress
Rarely does not flatter the wearer
Giving its all
To show off the legs
Encased in black tights in the cold
Or bare in the thick humidity
Of the summer.

The Little Black Dress
Can be served
As part of a healthy breakfast
Or as lunch, but especially as dinner.

But if served as dessert,
Champagne must accompany
The Little Black Dress
Glasses clinking
As it hits the floor.

© 2012 Edward J. Branley (note-previously published here, just getting it into the new site)

The Complaints is Ian Rankin's first novel featuring Detective Inspector Malcolm Fox as the protagonist. DI Fox works for the "Complaints and Conduct Department" of Lothian and Borders Police, the cops for Edinburgh (now part of Police Scotland). "The Complaints" are Scotland's version of the Internal Affairs department/bureau you'd find in most American police departments. DI Fox and his team are the IAB cops, part of the "rat squad."

(potential spoilers below)

The novel starts out fairly straightforward, an investigation of an allegedly dirty cop. The story takes a personal turn, as the cop being investigated is in turn assigned to look into the death of the abusive boyfriend of Fox's sister. The internal politics and behind-the-scenes machinations from there are the sorts of things one would expect from Rankin.

The story is solid and believable, although a bit worn. Rankin had his franchise character, DI John Rebus, butting heads with corrupt senior cops so many times, I let out a sigh when it came to Fox turning his attention to high-and-mightys as well. Unlike Rebus, though, it's Fox's job to follow the trail of corruption, so I let it go, and wasn't disappointed.

Fox is a teetotaler, which is a distinct difference in behavior and tone from Rebus. He's believable, but the stark contrast between the two men makes me wonder if Rankin believes that a middle ground can actually exist. His younger detectives drink, as do other characters. Is it possible to rise to the level of DI and not be an alcoholic?

Overall, this was a most enjoyable crime story. Recommended.

The Mom Uniform
Is at once
A convenience and a disguise.
Easy to put on
Amidst the chaos of the
Morning rush to school,
Allowing the wearer
To blend in during the day,
In the car line
The homeroom
Or the coffee shop.

The Mom UniformHas many variations.
Capris, a polo, and flips,
Or perhaps
Shorts, T-shirt, and trainers.
It's permissibleTo alternate between
The various combinations,
So long as
The components are consistent.

Questions often arise
When a woman deviates from
The Mom Uniform.
As other moms' imaginations
Go wild with possibilities.
No rational explanation will do
When those in need of that explanation
Have already jumped to dramatic conclusions.

The discerning lover,
Learns to accept
The Mom Uniform
As part of the rules
Of the midday tryst.

Discretion is rewarded
With the delights underneath, as
The Mom Uniform
Is carefully removed,
Folded, and
Placed on the chair,
Ready to be donned afterwards
For the afternoon carpool pick-up.

Cast of Battlestar Galactica (Adama and Roslin are on the left)

Brenna Clark Gray's article,The 10 Commandments of a Righteous Readerly Life, is an awesome read--recommended. I'd like to draw your attention to Number 7:

7. Thou Shalt Not Steal.

Long-term borrowing where thou eventually forgetest to returneth the
book, however, is totally cool. (See also: let he who is without sin...)
God's corollary: returneth thy library books on time and pay fines
promptly, thou jerkass.

The notion of "long-term borrowing" reminded me of a conversation from the television series, Battlestar Galactica (the second one, not the 70s version), between Commander Adama and President Roslin. Roslin notices an interesting book in Adama's quarters:

Adama: Please excuse me for keeping you waiting. I was called in the engine room, it'll just take a moment.

Roslin: It's all right. Some time I'd like to borrow a book or two. I only brought one with me on the flight to Galactica.

Adama: What book?
Roslin: "A Murder on Picon." I have a weakness for mysteries.

Adama: Ever read "Dark Day"?

Roslin: Edward Prima. I am embarrassed to say it's one of those classics I've never gotten around to reading.

Adama: I think you'll enjoy it. (hands it to her)
Roslin: Thank you. It may be a while before I get this back to you.

Adama: It's a gift. Never lend books.
Roslin: Well, then, thank you for the gift.

Adama is played by the indomitable Edward James Olmos, and Roslin is played by Mary McDonnell. It's a cute-and-profound scene. It's also my personal philosophy when it comes to books. With a few exceptions of some books that have sentimental value, or may actually be worth something when the boys liquidate my estate one day, I believe in paying books forward. Read it, pass it on. You do the same, until the thing wears out. That's what books are for.

(h/t to the lawyer-ette for the Gray article!)