There was a sign along the country road we were driving on that pointed to the Raymond Burr Winery. “Let’s go see if it’s his,” I said.
So, my husband turned the car… and it was his winery.
THE Perry Mason that sustained me through those hot summer months in middle school and high school when there was “nothing to do.”
It was my mom who turned me on to him. She knew all the episodes, and I could never figure out, if she already knew who did it, why she would want to sit and watch them with me… “because she already knew what was going to happen.”
Or maybe she forgot. Because she never did tell me who did it. She was nice about that… if she did know, she didn’t say… and I didn’t have to shout, “don’t tell me!”
Because, when you’re watching Perry Mason, you need to stay focused. You really need to stay focused.
This is the view from his house.
Of course, he died in 1993, but his partner still lives here.
Ahhh, to curl up with a cup of tea, with my mom, and watch Perry Mason. Good thing my son loves the show just as much as me.