January 5, 2016

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Late Thursday, as the New Year approached, I was feeling pretty melancholy. Ever since Mr. Schreiber, the neighborhood piper, moved away and then died, New Years have been dreary for me, and I suspect for a lot of others around here. We go out, shoot a sky rocket at the stroke of midnight, and then go back inside. There seemed very little to celebrate, and I could only think of the loss of a beloved friend, the perpetual wars and killings, and the endless succession of midnights until the final dissolution. The fact that I had a bad cold made it all the worse. I only wanted to repair to my bed and shut it all out. MM claimed she heard a pipe somewhere but I was sure she only said it to bolster my spirits. I didn’t even break out a small bottle of champagne, as I have for years, to ritually celebrate the changing of the years.

 

Then, from somewhere, I heard it, too—The unmistakable sound of Auld Lange Syne, and the sound was growing louder! I rushed out in my shirtsleeves and there, passing the house, was a mob of revelers, following a kilted man with a bagpipe. I followed them to Mr. Schreiber’s old house, where the piper played Amazing Grace, and the revelers were invited inside, as Mr. and Mrs. Schreiber used to do. Mirable dictu! The world was not lost at all! There was hope! I went to bed feeling that, if all was not exactly right with the world, it was at least survivable.

 

Happy New Year!

 

Love,

M

 

 

January 4, 2016

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Okay, three masses for your soul. I’ll pay for them, but which church? Roman Catholic or Anglican, or does it matter? As for me, when I predecease you,

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying,

And I am dead, as dead I well may be,

You will find the place where I am lying,

And kneel and say an “Ave” there for me.

 

You can also hire a piper, about whom more tomorrow.

 

Love,

The (soon to be) late,

M

 

 

 

 

Dear Hildie:

 

Or I could send you Yanqui, Yanqui, about a man who goes to an island nation in the Caribbean that’s in the throes of revolution, to find something hidden there years before by his client. Might be apropos for your two sons in the Mexican jail.

 

Happy 2016!

Love,

M

Dec. 30, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

This cold’s got me down. But I’ll recover. Just got my blood panel back. Everything’s fine but the cholesterol, which I’ve never previously had a problem with. But since I didn’t know I was going to have to have blood work, I didn’t fast, and I’ve been eating a lot of fatty food lately over the holidays.

 

I continue to read THE WORK OF THE DEAD, about burial practices; it’s a fine book, but I wish the PC author (from UC Berkeley) didn’t feel compelled to use only the feminine pronoun for impersonal references, such as, “If a person were to stand in that spot, she would see…” I find this very aggravating. If you really are that offended by the male pronoun, use “they.”

 

Take care. Happy New Year, as this is the last letter you’ll get from me in 2015! My regards to the incarcerated,

 

Love,

M

 

 

 

Dear Hildie:

Okay, so what should I send Riley and Murphy to read? You liked my THE CRIMES OF ARTEMUS KEEL, the picaresque story of the blind gambler’s jaunt through the US in 1951. But how about THE TEMPORARY SCHOLAR, about a professor recovering from schizophrenia who is hired by the worst little college in the South, a college so bad people who uphold academic standards are getting murdered? Oh, and the professor has an imaginary friend, the Friar, a Dominican friar from the sixteenth century whose life he studied and who now won’t go away. And there are others.

 

Let me know.

 

Love,

M

 

 

Dec 28, 2015

Dear Hildie:

 

I should’ve told you to have Murphy bring Riley Taiwanese tools instead of American-made ones. Jailers love Taiwanese tools because the bolt cutters break and the files and hacksaw blades just saw away  all day without doing any damage and keep the prisoners busy. Can Murphy claim he thought the prison was an agricultural cop-op or something? I’d get a good Mexican lawyer at this point.

 

Otherwise, I hope you had a good Xmas!

 

Love,

M

Dec. 23, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

It had been my thought to drop by this afternoon, but a client e-mailed me with a request for a conference call between 3 and 4:30.

 

I’ll get by tomorrow, looks like.

 

I’m taking the crew to Chelsea’s for a farewell (to Chelsea’s, which is shutting down) and a Christmas lunch in a few minutes.

 

Dr. A asked me yesterday how long I was going to put off surgery for my knee. The answer is, “As long as I can.” But it’s getting close. Walking’s a chore these days, and I used to love to walk. Ah, you may have been right last year—I may not last until Xmas! But I shall come back to haunt you.

 

“I am the ghost of mischief past!”

 

Anything more from Murphy in durance vile?

 

Take care.

Love,

M

 

 

 

December 22, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

 

The obsequies for my friend fortunately only held one reference to his “looking down on us.” I can’t stand those sentimentalistic statements. Even people who should’ve known better indulged in them at Haag’s memorial. He would’ve laughed at them. And, of course, the homilist read 2 Timothy: “I have fought the good fight.” No mention that scholars almost universally feel that Paul never wrote it because of anachronisms in the text. Frankly, though, it does sound a bit like Paul—Self-congratulatory, boasting, all about himself. Paul was a perfectly disgusting little man. How Christians can admire him I don’t understand. Here was a man who was jealous of those who’d actually known Jesus and insisted his hallucination was just as valid as their years of acquaintance with Jesus.

 

Enough grumbling for now.

 

Love,

M

 

Dear Hildie:

Well, I have trouble keeping up with your sons. I mean, I knew Murphy had gotten out and I was aware that Riley had gotten in. They must like Mexico a lot. Of course, Murphy was always the ambitious one. Was Riley just doing what Murphy told him (with the contraband, I mean?). I don’t know if you should go down to visit him for Xmas or not, especially since it means you couldn’t go with Murphy, since he’s afraid they’ll recognize him. Maybe he should’ve gotten a better Mexican lawyer.

Take care. If you get picked up yourself, don’t hesitate to let me know (though letters travel slowly down there). I’ll send you some books to read. Maybe my latest, THE RIPPER WALTZ.

 

Love,

M

Dec. 17, 2015

 

Dear Hildie:

I don’t know what to say about your son, Riley. I think paying for a helicopter and crew, plus an escape plan, would be very expensive. It might be cheaper just to bribe a guard. Are you sure he doesn’t like it there, though? I mean, if he plays his cards right he can come out with a useful skill, like weaving hammocks. Or you could try to get a message to El Chapo to spring him, but that wouldn’t be cheap, either. How about a letter to the interior ministry explaining it was all just a mistake?

 

Take care.

 

Love,

M