How are you, Jimmy, my boy? Fine, I hope, and much better than your other half, I trust. You will not be surprised to learn that I gave Audrey’s wedding a miss. Just before I left London, I had thought at length about whether or not I should go. I turned it over and over in my mind right up until the time I arrived here at the “Y”, and I finally decided not to attend on the day I went to see Constance, and Pat did not seem to know me. Or even worst, she did not want to know me.
I am a stranger in these parts, and my friends did not have an easy way for me to get to the wedding. What is worst, they did not have any suggestion or offers on how I was to get back to Niles, since the ceremony was at 4 pm and the reception could last until God knows when. The reception must have been a sumptuous affair. It was in part banked rolled by a financial institution in the suburbs and could, therefore, have ended at midnight. You get my drift?
The Clinton Health Plan seems a non-starter to me, and so, I for one will not be listening to any more discussion on the subject. I finally decided not to go to church on Sunday, but instead, to sit down and read Climbing Jacob’s Ladder: The Enduring Legacies of African-American Families, and Jimmy, it is like the Bible. I just could not put it down. It should be made a compulsory textbook for all schools in Black and White neighbourhoods. It explains in great detail backed up by facts and figures about the Black American and The Black Experience the world over. You will note if you do read it that it covers all the points I have talked over with you on many occasions. It is by far the most comprehensive account of the enslavement of African people I have read. I have not enjoyed a book so much since I read Invisible Man and Roots. As soon as my cheque arrives from over there, I will buy Andrew Billingsley’s book providing it is in the bookshops here.
Sunday was quite an eventful day. I saw some national advisor of the past administration with an unpronounceable name on the McLaughlin show, and from the way he talked, I know that my theory on how and why these “pockets” of conflicts are in session all over the world was bang on.
I also saw the reenactment on TV of the Arab-Israeli conflict of 1967 and 1973. And I can assure you, in my eyes, they were grave affairs indeed. Devastation on such vast scale should never be allowed to take place again, not in the Middle East, not in the Far East, not in Eastern Europe, not in Southern Africa, not anywhere. There are better ways of settling problems that are far less costly than fighting and killing. Fighting over trivial things such as a supposedly attempted assassination of an ex-president. What would have happened if he was actually killed? The mind boggles.
Let’s have some sanity in this letter and change the subject. Met any juicy young bimbos yet? Heard about this woman who could not take much more and decided to separate her husband from his most vital statistics. How about that for a topical discussion? Still, you do not have to worry. Your ex would not harm you because she does not care two hoots about how you spend your spare time. But I’ve heard that even some of your platonic friends do, so you be careful, eh!
See you in dreamland. All the love in the world.