Dear Marion,

Today, August 26, would have been Margrit's eighty-second
birthday.

Just now I returned from the Manchester NH airport,
where I waited two hours for Klemens' arrival, not because
his plane was late, but because he was a bit confused when
he called earlier in the day that, no he was returning not
to Logan but to Manchester, not at 10:55 p.m., but at 9:15 p.m.
But then he had made a mistake about the arrival time which
turned out to be 11:00 p.m. I'm pleased with myself that I
didn't mind waiting at all. The airport in Manchester is
esthetically pleasing and I enjoy gazing at the architecture
and day-dreaming. The volume of Plato which I bring along
for such occasions I left in the car; too many ideas of my
own to think about.

It was the new car which I had brought to New Hampshire,
because Nathaniel had needed the blue one; and the green car
in addition to the non-functioning left turn signal, leaks
water through the ventilating system. It's probably time to
bid it good-bye. The new car is a 2010 maroon Dodge Grand
Caravan. It's probably the last car I'll ever buy, and it
sports the same dark red color as the first car in which
I ever rode, an elegant 1931 Ford Phaeton, which according
to my mother was for a few months the most prestigious car
in Braunschweig, but sic transit gloria mundi. I'm almost
but not quite ashamed of the effectiveness with which I
bargained with the salesman, by being candid and when asked
about other offers that had been made, showing him the 
original of the competitor's memorandum, which he underbid
by $700. I agreed, and started to sign, when I was presented
with a $295 "document preparation" charge. I felt that I had
been tricked, and stubborn as I am, declared I wanted to
rescind the transaction. My salesman was startled. He said
no one else ever complained about that standard charge. I
didn't elaborate, - but the poor salesman couldn't have
divined that the preparation of documents is as pasttime
in which I take special pride. Distressed he consulted
his manager once more, and came back with the concession,
that which the "documentation preparation fee" could not be
waived as a matter of law, the price could be lowered by $300.
My vanities, as you well know, my literary pretentions are
very genuine. I won't let anyone outdocument me, certainly
not for $295, - but if I'd been an actor, I couldn't have
put on a better scene.

It's 1:30 a.m.; time to go to bed. Good night.

Jochen