Wednesday, November 30, 1994

     Recently Janet asked, "What's going on in your neck of the woods?".
To which I can say: lots, but a lot of it involves a keyboard.
     First, here's a postcard from Ron:

10/5/94

Hi Richard

     Thanks for the stamps, the
postcards & Zippy.  I may need
to return to Wyoming, NY because
of "the rest of the family".  I so,
I'll gardner more materials for
you.  Hmm, garner perhaps.
     I'm still working to earn
money for "toys".  It is drudgery
and entirely unfulfilling.  I believe
my next retirement will be "permanent".
     Best Always, Love Ron B

P.S. Traipsing around MIT with you was
a highlight of my April trip.

     Ron sent that message on one of the fractal postcards I gave him.  You
can get a few free fractal postcards to try out by sending me an SASE.

     This was followed some days later by a postcard from Rise:

Oct 19, 1994

Dear Richard,
     Candy's been in Korea for
a little more than a month.
In another month we should
finally have the house clean.
I'm setting up a workshop/studio
next to the kitchen, and keep
coming across polaroids you've
sent me, writing, all kinds of
reminders.  I'm having bad
attacks of those old imaginary
problems again, but I'm trying
to fight it.  What's up with you?
                Mwa - Rise

     In the upper right-hand corner of the writing/address side she has
written the number 99999.158.  Explanations from readers would be appreciated.
The picture side of the postcard appears to be handmade.  Streaks of magenta,
dark blue, turquoise, orange, green, threaded with also horizontal lines of
gold make a pretty picture.

     Well, at the beginning of October I got a letter from my daughter.  It
was our first contact with both of being adults.  I wrote back.  And then...
nothing happened.  I sort of noticed myself holding my breath.  Nothing
happened anyway.
     Most of today's big adventures happened on the street on the way to
Davis Square.  First there was this bunch of kids.  One of them would have
another get down on all fours.  Stick your bum up in the air, he would say.
Then he kicks that one in the ass.  They go tumbling.  So there were a couple
of rounds of that.  Next was the large, old, nearly blind dog, who seldom
has the energy to get up - today he was in a barking mood.  Then comes my
big chance for some graffiti.  A truck with the words ATLANTIC TRUCKING on
the side.  The workd trucking is white on black.  So my imaginary paintbrush
goes to work blotting out the T and partially altering the R.  On to bigger
things...  For the last four weeks I've been tutoring the 16 year old
daughter of an old pal, Dan.  I once tutored him when he was 15 or 16.  Trig
is her big enemy.  Two plus hours once a week.  $35 an hour.  Not bad.  She
is a senior and has to pass this course to get her first choice college.
     Cynthia is in Atlanta for the annual AAA conference.  She left about 6:30
Tuesday morning.  She got to Atlanta.  Her luggage was in San Diego.  It got
to her at 2am Wednesday morning.  All her best clothes.  All her materials for
the conference.  She was beside herself.  Everything is all better now.
     I'm thinking of this old story from my childhood.  It happened about first
or second grade.  Burlington, Wyoming.  Myself and some other boys had the urge
to do something mean to someone.  I came up with what everyone considered a
great idea.  We started with two graham crackers.  Around the edge of one I
made a sort of wall of frosting about 1/4 inch high, maybe 1/2 inch wide.
So, you ask, what did you put inside the wall, then seal in with the other
cracker?  Well, Wyoming being cow country, we found some fresh cow "product"
and filled this little reservoir of nastiness.  The treat was then offered to
the person we wanted to "get".  I have a vague recollection of some sort of
reprimand from the local authorities, teachers, etc.  But my real memory is
of the admiration from my friends about being the creator of such a fiendishly
nasty trick.  They would call on me many times over the years.  And I always
came through with something completely novel, although any of them seldom
approached the graham cracker escapade.  Cynthia called me criminal on hearing
the story.  I suppose so.  Be wary reading the words of someone who eventaully
became a convicted felon!