When I was 15, a new program started on TV called “The Detectives.”  My mother was interested because it starred someone she had liked when she (and he) was young–Robert Taylor.  So the two of us went up to my parents’ bedroom, settled on the bed and watched the show.   Well, it was quite a jolt to my teenage libido.  This was 1959 and while I had certainly discovered an interest in boys,  I hadn’t done much about it except look at Greek statues and stare at Steve Gomes in homeroom.  Robert Taylor was a revelation–the hair,  the widow’s peak, the voice, the slim body, etc. etc. etc.  I was hooked.   My late night movie viewing would never be the same–farewell Errol Flynn, you’ve been replaced.  Fortunately for me, the show was very popular and Mr. Taylor’s movies became a late night staple. Picture a dark room, a 13″ black and white TV turned down very low and a happy girl watching “Camille,” “Lucky Night,” “Johnny Eager,” “High Wall” and many more.  This continued until I married in 1967.  I remember being devastated by Mr. Taylor’s death in 1969.  I packed up two huge scrapbooks I had made and mailed them to Mrs. Taylor, hoping she would enjoy them.  I didn’t put a return address so I don’t know whether she got them, but I liked to picture them in her home.  Life went on and Robert Taylor wasn’t a part of it for roughly half a century.  Then, late last year, TCM showed “Ivanhoe” and “Quentin Durward” one Saturday night.  And it happened again–I was hooked and have been happily watching and researching my favorite again.  I hope in this blog to share some of the results of an ex-academic, researcher and compulsive organizer when she really gets going.