Telephone Transcript In Heaven

Undated 1999


JD: Hi Johnny

JW: Hello, Jimmy. Thanks for relieving my mind
Waiting for mail can really
Weigh on one’s mind.

JD:No problem. Are you set for
The rest of the week?

JW: Yes. I was just lying down
To take a little nap.

JD:Thanks for the umbrella yesterday

JW: Oh, I’m so sorry it’s such a flimsy affair

JD: Well, it kept me dry
I’ll return it to you when and if
We see each other later in the week.

JW: OK,
When and if.

Jim,

The mentally retarded folks I work for are like anyone else you know: some are interesting or at least people you can put up with, others real shits. It's like poets at a poetry reading. You like spending some time with them, but you'd never spend all your time with them.

Mentally retarded folks are called "challenged" or "people with disabilities", though before 1980 everyone just said "retarded". In the homes they have been variously referred to as "consumers", "clients", "individuals" and, more recently, "residents". It changes every six months or so, just often enough to keep you guessing or to make you look insensitive at a meeting.

You're not supposed to have favorites but every staff member or manager probably does. I do, but I can't tell you who they are.

Mike

The Burning of Center Bridge, 1928, oil on canvas, James A. Michener Art Museum.

The Real Dr. Chim Richalds

Plein Air

Edward Redfield stood in front of the Center Bridge in Solebury, Pennsylvania. From the same spot years earlier, he had watched the original Center Bridge to New Jersey burn from a random lightning strike. The next day he painted his most famous painting from his memory of the night prior. It was the only painting he painted from memory. He was known for his plein air technique, painting for hours waist deep in snow, neglecting the lunch his wife had packed for him in the lunchbox beside the palette. He believed what a fellow painter had once said, ‘ To paint cold, you must be cold.”
He started a bonfire in front of the bridge that day, casually tossing several paintings into the flames; watching tenderly as each one was consumed by the fire. His daughter-in-law said, “It is a testament to the character of the man he was, that he would destroy paintings for which he could receive money, in order to ensure the value of paintings for which he had already been paid.” His only reason given for torching his work was, “These paintings are battles lost.”

Chim,

whenIwritemyGasStationitwillhavenohelpfulhintslikewordspacesnevermindpunctuationit'llthematicallyself-destruct

But that's for another time (by the way, Jim, you left 5 heinekens at my apt. which continue to skunk up the place) and space, I've lost a bit off my fastball since the announcement that poetry was nothing but a distraction I'd always assumed that everything was a distraction and today I saw 5 or 6 BU girls who looked like they needed help but turns out they were just looking for the road back to Long Island. Dr. Richalds has your pregnancy report Jim and it looks like you'll be spending a bit more time at home.

ok