In my spare time, ten minutes here and there, I'm reading an old Perry Mason novel. It was first copyrighted in 1933 but this edition was printed in 1945. Some of these old books -- like Triangle Press or Goldsmith (mostly adventures for children) -- are very lightweight, physically. You lift it and it's like there's nothing there.
This particular title is "The Case of the Velvet Claws," written by Erle Stanley Gardner. I guess I'm midway through, around page 160 out of 310. So far it's basically a paint-by-numbers mystery, the young woman shows up telling an incomplete story with some lies. Perry, a lawyer acting like a detective in certain ways, has to figure out all the angles. Then there's a murder, and the police are involved. That's about where I am now, with Perry, Della Street (his secretary), and an private-eye kind of guy helping Perry.
The thing I wanted to jot down here has to do with Perry's car, which highlights how different it was with cars back then.
Page 35 - "Perry Mason flipped away the cigarette and pressed his foot on the starter." I'd sort of forgotten about cars I've ridden in where there was a thing on the floor to push to start it. I may be wrong but it seems like it was closer to the middle of the car. That's been a long time ago!
Page 79 - "Slowly, deliberately, Perry Mason took his hand from the automobile door catch..." Is that the same as the door handle?
Page 79 - "jerked open the door of his machine..." You don't hear that very often.
Page 82 - "His car was in the garage, and he nursed it into action, moved out into the rain before the motor was fully warmed." So it would be better to get the motor fully warmed up before driving it.
Well, I guess that wasn't too much about the car, too many differences from the way we do things or refer to things. His smoking, now that would be something to document. Perry is smoking a lot, even lighting new cigarettes off his old ones. He's in some serious trouble, so I suppose that explains it.