Merry ho ho January 12, 1985

 


Dear Louise:

Merry ho ho and happy ooh year!

We’re two weeks into the grand new year of 1985, fifteen long years since Boulder and LA, fifteen going on millions.

Soon, it will be your birthday again and this makes me think of all those birthdays past.

How strange it is to tumble through life like this, getting older and older as memories pile up behind us like a mountain of gravel.

How are you? Did you get a car yet? Are you still living with you know who?

I talked to Raeann yesterday. She’s doing pretty well, working for some lawyer on Route 4.

You’re going to have to come here to see her child before the kid gets much older. She’s wonderful.

Johnny is doing all right, too, as are Pauly and Hank and Garrick, each going round and round in the usual circles, ending up here and there.

Garrick is looking to get out on his own, away from living with Hank.

Pauly is next door here, settled in for winter, windows covered with plastic, one room closed off to save on heat.

I’m still working for Dunkin Donuts.

It’s a crazy life. I wish I could make my living by writing. But that’s hard. I’m lucky I can pay my bills now.

I got your last letter. You wound tired. Are you doing any better?

I have Ruby’s Ghost Buster shirt her, plus the mouse she left here during your last visit. I shall send both plus a few little things along next week when I get paid.

Mostly, things are about the same around here.

Fran and I have split up. This time I think it’s for good. We just weren’t hitting if off any more. I suppose that’s the way it goes.

I’m not too sad. I haven’t joined Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band yet anyway.

That’s it for now. Write me, please.

Enclosed is a check, not for much, but you should be seeing them on a regular basis after this.

 

Yours always,

Al



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