Dear Cyndy,

Thank you for your letter. Just as the naughty Republicans are about
to eviscerate the Estate Tax to a degree that it is no longer a danger
to me, I've completed my own efforts at avoidance - mind you not 
evasion of this tax which is so burdensome for persons who devote
their lives to their family rather than to themselves. Even if for
the immediate future my efforts appear superfluous, I suspect there's
turmoil in the offing and prophets such as Paul Krugman and Robert
Reich are readying the tumbrils to cart us plutocrats to the guillotine.

What's next for Nantucket, - assuming the Town doesn't appeal, - I 
secretly wish they would, so I can show off some more, - is that I
will recruit a troupe of plumbers each of whom I will ask for a written
estimate of the cost of changes to my installation required "to bring it
up to code." I will then have a spectrum of opinions against which I
can measure the "fairness" of the Inspector.

Of course my vanity is injured, my feathers are ruffled at the Appeals
Court not accepting many of my arguments, and ignoring the procedural
Constitutional issues which seem to me integral to due process of law.
But in a theoretical perspective, if the courts ignore these issues
and if justice is a mere facade for passing out the goodies to your
friends, then it's just as well to know and understand, - and ultimately
to exploit this knowledge and understanding.

I don't want to pretend I won everything. I didn't, I lost what is most
important to me, my respect for the law.  But, practically, I believe that
I'm better off with the court's wisdom than if I had obtained all I asked for,
namely to be permitted to do my own plumbing independent of the plumbing trade,
and to have that plumbing subject to inspection without court supervision.
As it is, I can't do plumbing unless I can find a plumber to "pull a
permit for me." But what plumbing I've done can't be ordered removed
unless it is in fact defective. Best of all, the Appeals Court, with
its order that the case be "remanded for further proceedings," has agreed
to exercise the kind of supervision over Nantucket for which I had asked
the Superior Court in the previous case and which had been denied me.
The inspector is now in the position where he is vulnerable to my challenges
of the "fairness" of his decisions, a legal process at which I should be very
effective. But then also, maybe he's had enough of me and won't cause trouble.
We shall see.

Nathaniel is planning a winter concert in Belmont just before the New Year.
I believe he mentioned performing Beethoven's Symphony No. 1, a Mozart
serenade, maybe Eine kleine Nachtmusik, and Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4.
I may have told you that for next year, he's been promised an assistant
conductor position with the Yale Symphony; part of next summer he plans to
spend in Berlin. He dreams of being taught by Simon Rattle of the Berlin
Philharmonic, but that maybe just that: a dream. But without dreams there's
no future; without dreams it's unavoidable that you stay where you are.

To the relief of his parents and grandparents, Benjamin has been awarded
early admission to Dartmouth, his first, and judging from his comments,
his only choice.  We were all concerned about his academic future,
since, although he's quite intelligent, he spent much of his middle and high
school years playing baseball and soccer. Fortunately for him, his
intelligence and sensitivity alienated his coaches; they wouldn't let
him play, and he finally became more or less disenchanted and turned
his attention, somewhat belatedly, to academics. Now that he's caught
up with Rebekah and Nathaniel, Benjamin is ecstatic. Klemens, who is
celebrating is 54th birthday today, December 11, remarked that for the
past 6 years the family had been living as it were in a pressure cooker,
first where Rebekah would go to college, then Nathaniel, and now Benjamin.
If he doesn't have a terrible accident skiing or such, he should be fine.

Please give my best to Ned. You needn't sing Happy Birthday to You. 
Birthdays have always been scorned in my family. My father would tease
acquaintances by misleading them as to his birthdate, telling them June 8,
as opposed to the correct June 7th, so that congratulations could be
dismissed for being a day late. The party at Klemens' house next door
today is a monstrosity. Not a birthday party except by coincidence,
but a Christmas-Hanukkah party for the Renal Division of Tufts Medical
Center. Between fifty and 70 guests are expected. The caterer's bill 
goes to the hospital.  Ned should realize how fortunate he is.
Jochen