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Letter To Clifford, 7
If it gets any better on Rocheblave I don't think I could stand it. Across Rocheblave from the NOPD PIB (Internal Affairs) building is the parking lot for the United Way building which fronts Canal. Never before, but today there is a free concert over there (and the Chauffeur just walked over and brought me back a couple of free chili dogs) and the stage is such, facing Iberville, that sitting on the porch of my house I can hear this very credible female soul/blues singer belting out standard covers and she pretty damn good, so again the question remains, why leave the porch, why get off the boat? The Chauffeur is over across the street putting some oil in his van so it doesn't burn up when his replacement uses it to deliver advertising circulars (his bread and butter gig and only gig until he gets another limousine to replace the one that flooded) to a major drug store chain. Chauffeur has to fly to Houston, which is where to his mother and father evacuated when a rather impressive natural Corp of Engineers disaster occurred here in New Orleans seven months ago. His mother is in the hospital and very sick.
I am at that stage where I won't be able to put off finishing Sea Wolf by Jack London much longer and I don't know to where I will go next to find such an enjoyable and improbable tale of turmoil, catastrophe, high adventure, love, brutality, and philosophy. Following is a another letter I wrote to my mom in the months preceding her death.
Dear Mom, 6/12/05
The last time I wrote I was going to a Memorial Day party and I'm here to say I survived that. It was a little dicey at the beginning because the ex-boyfriend of my girlfriend, T, was there, and for awhile just by himself, even though he has a girlfriend of his own, and I thought--holy cow, what fun it is to live in a small town. You can't really go anywhere around here without running into people you would easily avoid in a larger town. After awhile the ex-boyfriend's girlfriend showed up and so I cared less about him being there, because If I wanted to be small-minded, I could always flirt with his girlfriend. I am proud to say I took the high road and we were all respectful of each other.
It finally started getting hot around here and my air-conditioner stopped working right about that same time so I got a fan going and am pretty cool if I do say so myself.
Also, there is a swimming pool on this property so I can go jump in that if I get too hot. Usually it cools off pretty well at night.
I have a birdhouse up out here and it was supposed to be for Purple Martins but I didn't attract any of those and instead got a couple of swallows, which I don't mind at all and enjoy watching. A mockingbird was perched on top of the birdhouse the other day and the swallows, Mr and Mrs I guess, took offense to the mockingbird's presence and flew in cirlces around him, swooping in close enough to pick the fleas off of his neck, and the mockingbird just acted like he didn't even know they were there but eventually did fly off and leave them alone.
I found a small copperhead snake near the back porch of the main house (I live down the hill in a caretaker's cottage) today and I was going to kill it but T objected and we had already had a small fight over something stupid the night before so I decided to play it cool and do whatever the hell she wanted, which was to scoop the snake up and take it somewhere off the property and let it out. And that's what I did, so don't tell me you can't teach an old dog new tricks. I had it in a glass jar with a snap on lid and as me and the snake drove along the country roads together I thought wouldn't it be funny if that lid came off and that snake was to take up residence in my truck. But the lid didn't come off and I stopped along the side of the road (although I thought about taking it to T 's house) and I shook it out, and the last picture in my mind is of one pretty ticked off baby snake. If I run across the ma or pa of that baby snake though, I will chop off their heads. I am, afterall, the caretaker out here.
Just a few blocks from here (this property I am at, 70 miles from Washington DC, is on the edge of a small, quaint town) there is a 5 star restaurant [The Inn at Little Washington} and presidents and heads of state are often to be seen dining there and last night T and I walked into town and plopped ourselves down in some comfortable chairs set up in an outdoor pavillion that nobody ever uses and we just watched the fancy people walking to the restaurant from the many surrounding Bed and Breakfasts. T was able to verify that what she sees in fashion magazines is in fact what the women are wearing when they go out with their husbands or men friends who are willing to spend five or six hundred dollars on a meal (or in some instances that amount of money will only buy a single bottle of wine). So I am here to tell you that for women's fashion the color black was all the rage for awhile but now pink is the new black and a lot of women seem to be splitting the difference and are wearing pink and black. That is all for now. Hope you are well.
love, Jim.