interesting.
And sorry again, but I really can’t give you
any
advice about your situation at home. Furthermore, since you don’t tell me what was in the diary, you cannot expect me to pass judgment on the behavior of your parents. I will say that as a general rule I think people ought not to read other people’s private papers. But that said, the fact that you left the diary open on the coffee table suggests to me that you were, to put it bluntly, spoiling for a fight. As for God, I am not simply an agnostic—I am an indifferentist. The ministers, pastors, and padres I have met have generally been fools or charlatans. I surmise from your description Rev. Hanley is both. I admire your ability to make a funny story out of what must have been a really painful interview. You must keep in mind that it’s a big world beyond Rufus. You should also keep in mind that it will still be there next year, probably.
Thank you for the pictures. They were quite a surprise. I had rather expected, I don’t know why, a dumpy creature with pimples and large black shoes, not an attractive young woman in tennis shorts. It’s no wonder the good pastor had his hands all over you. I hope you won’t think that an insensitive remark, and I am not trying to excuse him, but I believe in acknowledging what’s in front of me.
Sincerely,
Andy Whittaker
¶
Dear Dahlberg,
I turned down your last submission due to its lack of merit, and the fact that you are Canadian had nothing to do with it, but if it makes you feel better to believe that, then go ahead.
With regards.
Andy
¶
Dear Peg,
I know you don’t like hearing from me or Mama, but I have to ask you a question. I really wouldn’t if it only concerned me, but other people are involved.
Home and Ranch Magazine
is planning to run a longish profile of me called “The Making of a Writing Man,” and they want photographs from my childhood. They want one of you as well, perhaps even several. I have looked through all Mama’s photos and there is not a single picture of me between the ages of about seven and fourteen, and I have been wondering why. There are many of you and Papa and Mama and even the animals. But of course the magazine won’t run any of those, attractive as they are, if I can’t produce at least two or three of me. Obviously someone has gone through the photo albums and systematically removed my pictures. I know that sounds fantastic, and whoever did it was quite careful and patient, moving around the other photos to fill the blank places. I am not making any accusations, though I can’t imagine who else might have done it. I’m talking about opportunity and motive. If you did take them, perhaps accidentally, and did not utterly destroy them by shredding or flushing, perhaps you could return a handful.
Your brother,
Andy
¶
ATTENTION ALL TENANTS
IF YOU HAVE MISLPACED YOUR MAILBOX KEY, CONTACT PHELPS IN 1A. SHE HAS A MASTER KEY AND WILL RETRIEVE YOUR MAIL. DO NOT TRY TO PRY THE BOXES OPEN!
¶
Dear Mr. Fontini,
I have received your message. I have given it careful consideration. I can assure you it is not plausible to blame the plumbing. There is nothing wrong with the plumbing. Not only did Sewell find nothing wrong, but I personally went over every inch of it after the first incident. I went over it with ruler and calipers. The tub’s overflow pipe is of the standard size. If you don’t trust me or Sewell (who is after all a licensed plumber), you are welcome to call the city inspector, assuming you can get him to come, which I doubt once he hears both sides of the story. “If not faulty plumbing,” you will say, “then why has the ceiling fallen on my supper, not once but twice?” The explanation, I believe, lies close at hand, indeed, one could say it is even closer than that. I think you would do well to look attentively at your wife while she bathes. If you do this, I think you will observe the following sequence.
(1) Mrs. Fontini turns on the taps
And sorry again, but I really can’t give you
any
advice about your situation at home. Furthermore, since you don’t tell me what was in the diary, you cannot expect me to pass judgment on the behavior of your parents. I will say that as a general rule I think people ought not to read other people’s private papers. But that said, the fact that you left the diary open on the coffee table suggests to me that you were, to put it bluntly, spoiling for a fight. As for God, I am not simply an agnostic—I am an indifferentist. The ministers, pastors, and padres I have met have generally been fools or charlatans. I surmise from your description Rev. Hanley is both. I admire your ability to make a funny story out of what must have been a really painful interview. You must keep in mind that it’s a big world beyond Rufus. You should also keep in mind that it will still be there next year, probably.
Thank you for the pictures. They were quite a surprise. I had rather expected, I don’t know why, a dumpy creature with pimples and large black shoes, not an attractive young woman in tennis shorts. It’s no wonder the good pastor had his hands all over you. I hope you won’t think that an insensitive remark, and I am not trying to excuse him, but I believe in acknowledging what’s in front of me.
Sincerely,
Andy Whittaker
¶
Dear Dahlberg,
I turned down your last submission due to its lack of merit, and the fact that you are Canadian had nothing to do with it, but if it makes you feel better to believe that, then go ahead.
With regards.
Andy
¶
Dear Peg,
I know you don’t like hearing from me or Mama, but I have to ask you a question. I really wouldn’t if it only concerned me, but other people are involved.
Home and Ranch Magazine
is planning to run a longish profile of me called “The Making of a Writing Man,” and they want photographs from my childhood. They want one of you as well, perhaps even several. I have looked through all Mama’s photos and there is not a single picture of me between the ages of about seven and fourteen, and I have been wondering why. There are many of you and Papa and Mama and even the animals. But of course the magazine won’t run any of those, attractive as they are, if I can’t produce at least two or three of me. Obviously someone has gone through the photo albums and systematically removed my pictures. I know that sounds fantastic, and whoever did it was quite careful and patient, moving around the other photos to fill the blank places. I am not making any accusations, though I can’t imagine who else might have done it. I’m talking about opportunity and motive. If you did take them, perhaps accidentally, and did not utterly destroy them by shredding or flushing, perhaps you could return a handful.
Your brother,
Andy
¶
ATTENTION ALL TENANTS
IF YOU HAVE MISLPACED YOUR MAILBOX KEY, CONTACT PHELPS IN 1A. SHE HAS A MASTER KEY AND WILL RETRIEVE YOUR MAIL. DO NOT TRY TO PRY THE BOXES OPEN!
¶
Dear Mr. Fontini,
I have received your message. I have given it careful consideration. I can assure you it is not plausible to blame the plumbing. There is nothing wrong with the plumbing. Not only did Sewell find nothing wrong, but I personally went over every inch of it after the first incident. I went over it with ruler and calipers. The tub’s overflow pipe is of the standard size. If you don’t trust me or Sewell (who is after all a licensed plumber), you are welcome to call the city inspector, assuming you can get him to come, which I doubt once he hears both sides of the story. “If not faulty plumbing,” you will say, “then why has the ceiling fallen on my supper, not once but twice?” The explanation, I believe, lies close at hand, indeed, one could say it is even closer than that. I think you would do well to look attentively at your wife while she bathes. If you do this, I think you will observe the following sequence.
(1) Mrs. Fontini turns on the taps
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