Chris Gordon left name in voice mailbox as being interest in helping me. 12-24-2010 Chris Gordon 508-367-0947 telephoned on Dec 27 at about noon. He agreed to meet me at 3 Red Bard Road on Wednesday Jan 5 at 12 noon. ==== On December 15, visit with Margaret and Helmut, Mr. Liffey of Liffey Plumbing came at 12:30, and inspected my plumbing. He stated that the double wyes draining the toilets and the bathroom sinks were not permissible, that the clean-out were improperly placed, that the gluing of my PVC pipes was inadequate, and that the copper of the supply pipes had been over-heated and needed to be replaced. I asked for and he said he would e-mail me an estimate, but I have received nothing from him. On December 23, 2010, trip with Margaret. At 12:30, Mr Dennis Parks, who said he was on good terms with the Inspector; that the supply system was passable, that the 4" sewer should be replaced with a 3" PVC pipe, that the double wyes for the toilets and the sinks were not acceptable, that the cleanouts were improperly placed, that a valve needed to be placed on the inflow to the pressure tank. He said the 2" traps with the threaded bows which I had bought at Home Depot were not acceptable im Massachusetts. I wrote down for Mr. Parks my name, address and telephone number. But as of Jan 2, 2011, I have received no response from him. Mr. Dave Kinney, who had made an appointment for 2:30 p.m. that day did not appear. Mr. Bruce Hermansdorfer (508-228-3677) categorically refused consider the job. Mr. Chris Gordon (508-228-9812) telephoned and made an appointment to come to 3 Red Barn Road on Jan. 5, 2011 at noon. Mr. Dave Kinney returned my telephone call of Dec. 23, 2:30 p.m. and made an appointment to come to 3 Red Barn Road on Jan. 5, 2011 at 1:30 p.m. Jan 5, 2011 in SSA Waiting Room Dave Kinney didn't come. Instead Chris Gordon drove up in an unmarked white van at about 2:45, when I began to consider how to proceed in the absence of a Nantucket Plumber willing to help me. Mr. Gordon didn't introduce himself. Until the end, when I asked how I should make out the check, and he replied C.M. Gordon Plumbing and Heating I was under the impression that I was dealing with Mr. Kinney who had agreed to come at 1:30. He is a tall heavy set man, closer to 60 than to 50 years of age. Soft spoken and taciturn. I found myself asking him to repeat virtually everything that he said. He spent perhaps half an hour or more inspecting the plumbing, saying very little. When he asked whether the plumbing had been pressure tested, I assumed he meant the waste vent plumbing and explained about the leak at the flange of the vent. The plumber however had something else in mind. He went to his truck and retrieved an electrically driven compressor and injected air into the supply plumbing. He was satisfied that this part of the installation was adequate. I acknowledged the misplacement of two of the clean outs, suggesting that it was a defect that could readily be cured. He mentioned that my plumbing had significant political consequences on the Island; although he was not explicit I understood from him that the Inspector might approve my installation without requiring any changes at all, and he offered to obtain a plumbing permit. I gave him the key to the house and a check for $1000, suggesting that he return any amount he considered inappropriate. Perhaps I will hear from him in a few days. Arguably my informality entails a risk. Mr. Liffey who told me it would be less expensive to tear out the plumbing than to repair it to bring it up to code, and Mr. Parks who had said that the supply plumbing was o.k., but that the vent and waste plumbing needed to be replaced in its entirety had tried to defraud me. Perhaps Mr. Gordon would keep the thousand dollars and forget his promise to secure the inspectors approval at a minimum of expense; conceivably he might even rip out the plumbing to curry favor with the inspector and then claim it was all a misunderstanding. Time will tell. =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter, for your account of your New Year's weekend at the Farm, and especially for the re-emergence of your good humor. It's been a busy week. On December 30, I functioned as the recording technician for Nathaniel's symphony concert, using high quality microphones which Klemens had previously acquired. Apparently the computer which stored the sound track disapproved of Wagner. In any event, it stalled in the middle of the performance of the Siegfried Idyll. Beethoven's Fourth Symphony and Rossini's Overture to William Tell I managed to record without incident. In anticipation of yesterday's trip to Nantucket, I bought an inexpensive laptop computer which I then reprogrammed with the Ubuntu-Demian-Linux operating system with a very satisfactory result. I played with the machine for two hours on each leg of the round trip. Before leaving Belmont, I had managed to download from the Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften voluminous texts of Max Weber's Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft and Ferdinand Toennies' Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft. Of course I had time only to read snatches. I thought it would be constructive to try to understand the social and legal issues that have been perplexing me through the minds of authors who literally devoted their lives to writing and thinking about the questions I was asking. What I learned was, however, different from my expectations. I discovered logical and rhetorical constructs which relied on historical accounts of human behavior remote from my own experience and remote, I believe, also from the experiences of the authors, who relied largely on chronicles of past events as distinct from their own "Erleben". I concluded that both authors, Weber and Toennies, and the uncounted academic writers who emulated them, were in effect constructing a virtual reality grounded not in experience but in language, and that "understanding" such texts was not so much correlating the words with with ones own life, as familiarizing oneself with a self-contained conceptual structure, rehearsing the proffered definitions and dynamics until one can no longer distinguish them from the reality which is is to substance of the individual's life and which must be of primary concern to him or her. Once we arrived on the Island, I soon becames very much immersed in that reality. The initial appointment with a plumber, one Mr. Chris M. Gordon had been scheduled for 12 noon, but no Mr. Gordon appeared. I distracted myself by making many digital photos, 96 to be exact, of all the fittings in my plumbing installation, from all possible angles. I thought then that I had no choice but to abandon my attempts to corral a local plumber. Instead I would prepare an album of photos, which, criss-crossing southeastern Massachusetts, I might show to candidates in various towns and hamlets on the mainland, avoiding the need to pay a day's wages and a fast- ferry ride to Nantucket to someone who would turn out to be not at all interested. That the second plumber, a Mr. Dave Kinney, scheduled for 1:30, who had missed an appointment on the previous trip, again failed to appear, confirmed my conclusion that I must look for help off-island. Then, unexpectedly, at 2:30, the turning point, the peripateia, a white unmarked van pulled up to the house and from it there emerged a tall, broad-shouldered man perhaps in his late fifties. He wore knee protectors as if he'd just come from a job at which he needed to kneel. He did not introduce himself, - I assumed him to be David Kinney. He started carefully and methodically to inspect the plumbing, taciturn, without comment or explanation, on the first floor, on the second floor, in the basement. He opened the bulkhead, went to his truck to retrieve an air compressor, with which he injected air into to the supply pipes, the pressure and the hot water tanks. "It seems to be tight he said." "The code is a vague thing, but I think this should pass. I'd like to help you. I'll get the inspector out here to have a look and hear what he says." "Let me give you a key," I said. "To whom shall I make out the check." "G.M. Gordon Plumbing and Heating," was his reply. At last I knew with whom I was dealing. I didn't ask "how much?" I gave him a substantial check which he pocketed without acknowledgement or thank you. "If it turns out to have been too much, you can give me back the difference; if it's not enough, tell me how much more you need." He didn't commit himself, but seemed satisfied. Apparently comfortable with my style, Chris Gordon started to talk. I also like to do everything myself also, he said; and the professionals are sometimes not as good as the amateurs. We have horses, he said, they chew on grass and their teeth become rough and need to be ground down. To do that you got to put your arm in their mouth, - and then suddenly the mouth seems very large and the teeth awfully sharp. So the veterinarians do a lot of maneuvering to get the horse to calm down. They give 'em tranquilizers. But the fellow that does mine, he's no veterinarian, but he's done it for 25 years, he takes a leather strap, ties it in a loop, slips it into the horses' mouth and holds the other end of the loop to the ground with his foot. Has the teeth ground in no time; never gets into trouble; and the vets hearing about this have fits. I told Mr Gordon that I know all about putting my arm in the horse's mouth. I do it all the time. I haven't been bitten, at least not yet. As to what will happen next, I have no idea. Extrapolation from my three encounters with Nantucket plumbers suggests that (at least) two thirds of them are prepared to charge me thousands of dollars for plumbing work that doesn't need to be done. What Mr. Gordon will do besides cashing my check, remains to be seen. One of his most telling comments was that the litigation with me had caused political problems on the Island. What these problems are, I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised if the building department has come under pressure for the legal fees they incurred in the unsuccessful attempt to have my plumbing destroyed, and it is possible that the plumbing inspector is almost as eager to get the plumbing inspected as am I. We'll find out what happens. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Cyndy, Thank you for your letter. After several years, I finally received a postcard from Jane, telling me about the trip to Peru. I'll reply in a few days. I hope I don't forget. My new lap-top computer made the trip to Nantucket much less onerous. I played with the machine for two hours on each leg of the round trip. Before leaving Belmont, I had managed to download from the Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften voluminous texts of Max Weber's Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft and Ferdinand Toennies' Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft. Of course I had time only to read snatches. I thought it would be constructive to try to understand the social and legal issues that have been perplexing me through the minds of authors who literally devoted their lives to writing and thinking about the questions I was asking. What I learned was, however, different from my expectations. I discovered logical and rhetorical constructs which relied on historical accounts of human behavior remote from my own experience and remote, I believe, also from the experiences of the authors, who drew largely on chronicles of past events as distinct from their own "Erleben". I concluded that both authors, Weber and Toennies, and the uncounted academic writers who emulated them, were in effect constructing a virtual reality grounded not in experience but in language, and that "understanding" such texts was not so much correlating the words with with ones own life, as familiarizing oneself with a self-contained conceptual structure, rehearsing the proffered definitions and dynamics until one can no longer distinguish them from the reality which is is the substance of the individual's life and which must be of primary concern. Once we arrived on the Island, I soon becames very much immersed in that reality. The initial appointment with a plumber, one Mr. Chris M. Gordon had been scheduled for 12 noon, but no Mr. Gordon appeared. I distracted myself by making many digital photos, 96 to be exact, of all the fittings in my plumbing installation, from all possible angles. I thought then that I had no choice but to abandon my attempts to corral a local plumber. Instead I would prepare an album of photos, which, criss-crossing southeastern Massachusetts, I might show to candidate plumbers in various towns and hamlets on the mainland, avoiding the need to pay a day's wages and a fast-ferry ride to Nantucket to someone who would turn out to be not at all interested. That the second plumber, a Mr. Dave Kinney, scheduled for 1:30, who had missed an appointment on the previous trip, again failed to appear, confirmed my conclusion that I must look for help off-island. Then, unexpectedly, at 2:30, the turning point, the peripateia, a white unmarked van pulled up to the house and from it emerged a tall, broad-shouldered man perhaps in his late fifties. He wore knee protectors as if he'd just come from a job at which he needed to kneel. He did not introduce himself, - I assumed him to be David Kinney. He started carefully and methodically to inspect the plumbing, taciturn, without comment or explanation, on the first floor, on the second floor, in the basement. He opened the bulkhead, went to his truck to retrieve an air compressor, with which he injected air into to the supply pipes, the pressure and the hot water tanks. "It seems to be tight he said." "The code is a vague thing, but I think this should pass. I'd like to help you. I'll get the inspector out here to have a look and hear what he says." "Let me give you a key," I said. "To whom shall I make out the check." "G.M. Gordon Plumbing and Heating," was his reply. At last I knew with whom I was dealing. I didn't ask "how much?" I gave him a substantial check which he pocketed without acknowledgement or thank you. "If it turns out to have been too much, you can give me back the difference; if it's not enough, tell me how much more you need." He didn't commit himself, but seemed satisfied. Apparently comfortable with my style, Chris Gordon started to talk. I also like to do everything myself also, he said; and the professionals are sometimes not as good as the amateurs. We have horses, he said, they chew on grass and their teeth become rough and need to be ground down. To do that you got to put your arm in their mouth, - and then suddenly the mouth seems very large and the teeth awfully sharp. So the veterinarians do a lot of maneuvering to get the horse to calm down. They give 'em tranquilizers. But the fellow that does mine, he's no veterinarian, but he's done it for 25 years, he takes a leather strap, ties it in a loop, slips it into the horses' mouth and holds the other end of the loop to the ground with his foot. Has the teeth ground in no time; never gets into trouble; and the vets hearing about this have fits. I told Mr Gordon that I know all about putting my arm in the horse's mouth. I do it all the time. I haven't been bitten, at least not yet. As to what will happen next, I have no idea. Extrapolation from my three encounters with Nantucket plumbers suggests that (at least) two thirds of them are prepared to charge me thousands of dollars for plumbing work that doesn't need to be done. What Mr. Gordon will do besides cashing my check, remains to be seen. One of his most telling comments was that the litigation with me had caused political problems on the Island. What these problems are, I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised if the building department has come under pressure for the legal fees they incurred in the unsuccessful attempt to have my plumbing destroyed, and it is possible that the plumbing inspector is almost as eager to get the plumbing inspected as am I. We'll find out what happens. Stay well and give my regards to Ned. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx My new lap-top computer made the trip to Nantucket on Jan 5, 2011 much less onerous. I played with the machine for two hours on each leg of the round trip. Before leaving Belmont, I had managed to download from the Berlin-Brandenburgische Akademie der Wissenschaften voluminous texts of Max Weber's Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft and Ferdinand Toennies' Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft. Of course I had time only to read snatches. I thought it would be constructive to try to understand the social and legal issues that have been perplexing me through the minds of authors who literally devoted their lives to thinking and writing about the questions I was asking. What I learned was, however, different from my expectations. I discovered logical and rhetorical constructs which relied on historical accounts of human behavior remote from my own experience and remote, I believe, also from the experiences of the authors, who drew largely on chronicles of past events as distinct from their own observations. I concluded that both authors, Weber and Toennies, and the uncounted academic writers who emulated them, were in effect constructing a virtual reality grounded not in experience but in language, and that "understanding" such texts was not so much correlating the words with with ones own life, as familiarizing oneself with a self-contained conceptual structure, rehearsing the proffered definitions and dynamics until one can no longer distinguish them from the reality which is the substance of ones own life and which must be ones primary concern. Once we arrived on the Island, I became very much immersed in that reality. The initial appointment with a plumber, one Mr. Chris M. Gordon had been scheduled for 12 noon, but by 12:30, by 1:00 o'clock by 1:30 no plumber had appeared. While waiting I had distracted myself by making many digital photos, 94 to be exact, of all the fittings in my plumbing installation, from all possible angles. I thought then that I had no choice but to abandon my attempts to corral a local plumber. Instead I would prepare an album of photos, which, criss-crossing southeastern Massachusetts, I might show to candidate plumbers in various towns and hamlets on the mainland, avoiding the need to pay a day's wages and a fast-ferry ride to Nantucket to someone who would turn out to be not at all interested. That the second plumber, scheduled for 1:30, a Mr. Dave Kinney, who had missed an appointment on the previous trip, again failed to appear, confirmed my conclusion that I must look for help off-island. Then, unexpectedly, at 2:30, the turning point, the peripateia: a white unmarked van pulled up to the house, and from it emerged a tall, broad-shouldered man perhaps in his late fifties. He wore knee protectors as if he'd just come from a job at which he needed to kneel. He did not introduce himself, - I assumed him to be David Kinney. He started carefully and methodically to inspect the plumbing, taciturn, without comment or explanation, on the first floor, on the second floor, in the basement. He opened the bulkhead, went to his truck to retrieve an air compressor, with which he injected air into the supply pipes, the pressure tank and the hot water tank. "It seems to be tight he said." "The code is a vague thing, but I think this should pass. I'd like to help you. I'll get the inspector out here to have a look and hear what he says." "Let me give you a key," I said. "To whom shall I make out the check." "G.M. Gordon Plumbing and Heating," was his reply. At last I knew with whom I was dealing. I didn't ask "how much?" I gave him a substantial check which he pocketed without acknowledgement or thank you. "If it turns out to have been too much, you can give me back the difference; if it's not enough, tell me how much more you need." He didn't commit himself, but seemed satisfied. Apparently comfortable with my style, Chris Gordon started to talk. I also like to do everything myself also, he said; and the professionals are sometimes not as good as the amateurs. We have horses, he said, they chew on grass and their teeth become rough and need to be ground down. To do that you got to put your arm in their mouth, - and then suddenly the mouth seems very large and the teeth awfully sharp. So the veterinarians do a lot of maneuvering to get the horse to calm down. They give 'em tranquilizers. But the fellow that does mine, he's no veterinarian, but he's done it for 25 years, he takes a leather strap, ties it in a loop, slips it into the horses' mouth and holds the other end of the loop to the ground with his foot. Has the teeth ground in no time; never gets into trouble; and the vets hearing about this have fits. I told Mr Gordon that I know all about putting my arm in the horse's mouth. I do it all the time. I haven't been bitten, at least not yet. As to what will happen next, I have no idea. Extrapolation from my three encounters with Nantucket plumbers suggests that (at least) two thirds of them are prepared to charge me thousands of dollars for plumbing work that doesn't need to be done. What Mr. Gordon will do besides cashing my check, remains to be seen. One of his most telling comments was that the litigation with me had caused political problems on the Island. What these problems are, I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised if the building department has come under pressure for the legal fees they incurred in the unsuccessful attempt to have my plumbing destroyed, and it is possible that the plumbing inspector is almost as eager to get the plumbing inspected as am I. We'll find out what happens. =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter. You ask about my interest in Weber and Toennies. As a plumber, albeit unlicensed, their thoughts, which are ineffective in unraveling the complexities of the plumbing code, are of no concern to me. It's not I, but rather the characters in my novel who are perplexed about their relationship to society, who are dismayed by what they perceive as inconsistencies and contradictions of legal procedure. They will be critical of me, and with good reason, if I fail to provide them with the authoritative answers to their questions that German academic philosophy proffers. At present I'm engaged in repairs in this large house whose defects I've neglected for too many years. I started making improvements in the large basement kitchen, which is not presently in use, but which I would like to have available when it's needed. On Tuesday I will drive to Brookline to pick up two 8 foot sections of hydronic baseboard. These I will install in the bedroom in the old part of the house, wheres during last year's cold spell, the heating pipes imbedded in the outside walls froze and burst. That repair should keep me busy for a week or two. I still haven't devised a technique for moving the very heavy radiator down the stairs and out of the house. When I have finished, the bedroom repair, I'll start putting the basement, - and for that matter, the rest of the house into better order, a project for which there is no end in sight. The future work on Nantucket is, at this juncture, uncertain. I'm waiting for Mr. Gordon's response, and especially for the result of the inspection which he agreed to arrange. There's no alternative for me but "to proceed as way opens." Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx .ce 20110111.00 .PP In this afternnon's mail, a notice from the Clerk of Suffolk Superior Court, requiring my presence at a Status Review Hearings for C.A. SUCV2008-05664-E at 2:00 p.m. on February 3, 2011, in Court Room 916, 3 Pemberton Square, Boston. .PP Upon receiving this notice, inasmuch as I had heard nothing from my plumber Mr. C.M. Gordon, I telephoned the Nantucket Building Department to inquire whether a plumbing permit had in fact been issued. I was told it had not. .PP I then telephoned Mr. Gordon at his cellphone number. He answered immediately. He told me that he had gone to the Building Department to apply for a plumbing permit "the next day", (January 6, 2011). Mr. Gordon recited over the telephone that he had told the Inspector (Mr. Ciamataro) the he, Mr. Gordon had inspected the plumbing, that he had found it in compliance with the Plumbing Code to a degree that was greater than customary on Nantucket, that he had pressure tested to supply plumbing to 100 lbs./sq in. and found it to be tight, and that he, Mr. Gordon believed that the rough plumbing of the installation at 3 Red Barn Road should be approved. In response Mr. Ciarmatoro upraided Mr. Gordon, apparently to a degree that Mr. Gordon considered his plumbing licence to be in jeopardy, in as much as Mr. Gordon confided to me: "I'm 67 years old. What difference if they take my license." Mr. Ciarmataro refused to issue a plumbing permit, refused to inspect the plumbing, and stated that he would leave the inspection of the plumbing to the State. Mr. Ciarmataro told Mr. Gordon that "he would get back to him", but as of 3:30 p.m. on January 11, had not done so. Mr. Gordon asked for my e-mail address, so that he could communicate with me by e-mail. =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter. Initially, I was somewhat at a loss as to how and what to answer, but now, with the help of the Nantucket plumbing inspector, I have stories with which to entertain you. In this afternronon's mail, I found a notice from the Clerk of Suffolk Superior Court, requiring my presence at a Status Review Hearing for C.A. SUCV2008-05664-E at 2:00 p.m. on February 3, 2011, in Court Room 916, 3 Pemberton Square, Boston. Upon receiving this notice, inasmuch as I had heard nothing from my plumber Mr. C.M. Gordon, I telephoned the Nantucket Building Department to inquire whether a plumbing permit had in fact been issued. I was told it had not. I then telephoned Mr. Gordon at his cellphone number. He answered immediately. He told me that he had gone to the Building Department to apply for a plumbing permit "the next day", (January 6, 2011). Mr. Gordon recited over the telephone that he had told the Inspector (Mr. Ciamataro) that he, Mr. Gordon had inspected the plumbing, that he had found it in compliance with the Plumbing Code to a degree that was greater than customary on Nantucket, that he had pressure tested the supply plumbing to 100 lbs./sq in. and found it to be tight, and that he, Mr. Gordon believed that the rough plumbing of the installation at 3 Red Barn Road should be approved. In response Mr. Ciarmatoro upraided Mr. Gordon, apparently to a degree that Mr. Gordon considered his plumbing license to be in jeopardy, in as much as Mr. Gordon confided to me: "I'm 67 years old. What difference if they take my license." Mr. Ciarmataro refused to issue a plumbing permit, refused to inspect the plumbing, and stated that he would leave the inspection of the plumbing to the State. Mr. Ciarmataro told Mr. Gordon that "he would get back to him", but as of 3:30 p.m. on January 11, had not done so. Mr. Gordon asked for my e-mail address, so that he could communicate with me by e-mail. The story hasn't ended, but I have no idea what the end will be. The fundamental issue in our correspondence which recently surfaced is that my scepticism which you have charitably tolerated for so many months, is fundamentally repugnant to you. My father systematically upbraided me for "being so negative". So did Margrit. And the three of you are in very prestigious company. Goethe wrote: "Und doch sang ich gläub'gerweise: Dass mir die Geliebte treu, Dass die Welt, wie sie auch kreise, Liebevoll und dankbar sei." Goethe rejected the tragic intuitions for example of Kleist and Hoelderlin, in which many modern readers (myself included) discern meaning more profound than anything that Goethe wrote. The story of our correspondence hasn't ended either. Perhaps we should content ourselves to write to each other about Aeschylus or Sophocles, about Hamlet or Lear. Please don't be offended when I write that I'm not capable of a smiley face. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Cyndy, Thank you for your letter with the news of Jane and Marty's safe return to Amherst. Getting old, you will agree, is a challenging proposition. I'm not at all confident that my own activist approach is optimal. Perhaps the right way to get old is a pious fantasy and doesn't exist. In this afternoon's mail, I found a notice from the Clerk of Suffolk Superior Court, requiring my presence at a Status Review Hearing for C.A. SUCV2008-05664-E at 2:00 p.m. on February 3, 2011, in Court Room 916, 3 Pemberton Square, Boston. Upon receiving this notice, inasmuch as I had heard nothing from my plumber Mr. C.M. Gordon, I telephoned the Nantucket Building Department to inquire whether a plumbing permit had in fact been issued. I was told it had not. I then telephoned Mr. Gordon at his cellphone number. He answered immediately. He told me that he had gone to the Building Department to apply for a plumbing permit "the next day", (January 6, 2011). Mr. Gordon recited over the telephone that he had told the Inspector (Mr. Ciamataro) that he, Mr. Gordon had inspected the plumbing, that he had found it in compliance with the Plumbing Code to a degree that was greater than customary on Nantucket, that he had pressure tested the supply plumbing to 100 lbs./sq in. and found it to be tight, and that he, Mr. Gordon believed that the rough plumbing of the installation at 3 Red Barn Road should be approved. In response Mr. Ciarmatoro upraided Mr. Gordon, apparently to a degree that Mr. Gordon considered his plumbing license to be in jeopardy, in as much as Mr. Gordon confided to me: "I'm 67 years old. What difference if they take my license." Mr. Ciarmataro refused to issue a plumbing permit, refused to inspect the plumbing, and stated that he would leave the inspection of the plumbing to the State. Mr. Ciarmataro told Mr. Gordon that "he would get back to him", but as of 3:30 p.m. on January 11, had not done so. Mr. Gordon asked for my e-mail address, so that he could communicate with me by e-mail. The story hasn't ended, but I have no idea what the end will be. Meanwhile I am mulling whether or not I should file a motion in the Superior Court for the primary purpose of making a record of the prejudice of the plumbing inspector which is so great as to persuade him to defy the order of the Appeals Court. Arguably that prejudice precludes his making that inspection of integrity and fairness specified by the Appeals Court. Arguably that prejudice must also be charged to his employer the Board of Selectmen of the Town of Nantucket, and would justify a challenge to any other restrictions which the Town might at some future date seek to impose. I'm a bit tired now, and the quality of my writing is endangered. I'll stop and write more perhaps in a day or two. Meanwhile our very best wishes to Ned and yourself. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Your Honor, I am profoundly appreciative of the efforts of the Appeals Court which spent 9 1/2 months in the preparation of a 15 page opinion. The Appeals Court found the prohibition of Do-It-Yourself plumbing of the Massachusetts Plumbing Code to pass the test of constitutionality, but it determined that the Massachusetts Plumbing Code did not permit the destruction of plumbing which, aside from having been installed by an unlicensed person without a permit, was otherwise code compliant. As the appellant in this case I immediately set out to comply with the Appeals Court order by attempting to hire a licensed plumber to obtain a plumbing permit, to correct any code violations that he might find, and to obtain from the Nantucket inspector, the required inspection required by law. I made more than 52 telephone calls to 27 different plumbing establishments until finally I found only one plumber willing to carry out the mandate of the Appeals Court. Telephone calls to 22 telephone numbers were not returned. One plumber, Mr. Dave Kinney, twice promised to come and failed twice to appear. One plumber, Mr. Bruce Hermansdorfer without having inspected the installation categorically refused the work. Two plumbers, Mr. Maurice Daniels and Mr. Dennis Parks who had each inspected the installation and had promised to furnish estimates, subsequently refused the work. On January 5, 2011, one plumber, Mr. Chris M. Gordon, made a careful inspection of the installation, including pressure testing. Mr. Gordon offered to obtain a plumbing permit and to arrange with the plumbing inspector for the inspection required by law. I accepted his offer, gave him a key to the premises, and a check for $1000 to defray the cost of the plumbing permit either $520 or $650 and to reimburse him for his work. There was between us an explicit understanding that he would reimburse me if my check proved excessive and that I would pay additional sums as warranted by the necessary work. On January 11, I telephoned the Nantucket Building Department and was told that no plumbing permit had been issued. I then telephoned Mr. Gordon who told me that he had gone to the Building Department on January 6, had applied for a plumbing permit, that his application had been denied, that he, Mr. Gordon had informed the Inspector that he, Mr. Gordon had inspected the installation and that in his judgment it was in compliance with the Massachusetts Plumbing Code. The Inspector told Gordon that he, the Inspector would not inspect the installation. The inspector also scolded and upbraided Gordon for his involvement with my project. Mr. Gordon expressed to me his concern that his plumbing license might be in jeopardy because of his proposing to assist me in carrying out the directives of the Appeals Court. ================ The Appeals Court's set aside Chapter 30A of the General Laws and decided this case in Equity rather than in Law. It identified and pronounced an equitable rather than a legal solution. It abandoned law in favor of equity. ================ The remedy in the instant situation should likewise be a remedy in equity rather than in law, if only because a legal remedy is impractical. A legal remedy is impractical because, while an individual is susceptible to legal sanctions, a governmental entity such as the Town of Nantucket, is not. It would be unjust to focus on Mr. Ciarmataro. He is carrying out the intentions and purposes of the building department, and perhaps the specific directives of his superiors. He is not a loose cannon on his own. The government of Nantucket cannot be changed by court order. ================ Any plumber working on Nantucket is responsible to Mr. Ciarmataro and is subject to censure by him, and is potentially the object of a complaint which might indeed lead to censure or to the loss of his license. ================ Nantucket is an island of anarchy. On March 27, 2006, Justice Connon in the Barnstable status hearing said, obiter dictu, some people on Nantucket ought to be spanked. 75 percent of cases are illegal or the result of rudeness. ================ The present issue should also be adjudicated in equity rather than law. A legal remedy won't work for lack of a reliable legal framework. There's no relying on the Board of State Examiners, no relying on the AG. The Plumbing Code is in its application on Nantucket, a Potemkin village. =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Lieber Helmut, Vielen Dank fuer Deinen Brief an Margaret. Sie sich gefreut und hat ihn Anerkennung gelesen. Dennoch bezweifle ich, dass sie sich zu einer Antwort aufraffen wird. Letztendlich ueberlaesst sie mir das Schreiben. Vielen Dank noch einmal fuer Deine Begleitung nach Nantucket, welche fuer mein Empfinden diese verzauberte - oder verhexte Insel in wundersamer Weise in mein Erleben von meiner Kindheit, vom Wendentorwall und der Schuetzenstrasse eingebunden hat. Die gerichtlichen Entwicklungen seit Deinem Besuch sind haarstraeubend. Nach etwa 52 Telephonaten und drei Reisen nach Madaket, fand ich einen einzigen ehrlichen Klempner, einen Mann namens Chris Gordon dessen Werkstatt in Brewster auf Cape Cod gelegen ist, der aber zuweilen auch auf Nantucket arbeitet. Mr. Gordon unternahm eine sehr sorgfaeltige Inspektion meiner Anlage, holte aus seinem Lastwagen eine Luftpumpe und stellte die Zufuhrleitungen under 100 Pfund Druck, erklaerte sie als dicht und begutachtete meine Arbeit als mit der Massachusetts Plumbing Code uebereinstimmend. Er versprach die Klempner-Erlaubnis einzuholen, und Mr. Ciarmataro, den Inspektor zur offiziellen Inspektion zu bestellen. Ich gab ihm den Schluessel zum Hause, und einen Scheck ueber tausend Dollar, $520 fuer den Erlaubnisschein und den Rest fuer seine Bemuehungen. Der Scheck wurde eingeloest. Ich hoerte nichts weiter. Vom Bauamt erfuhr ich, dass kein Erlaubnisschein ausgestellt worden war. Auf telephonische Anfrage erklaerte Mr. Gordon, der Inspektor habe den Erlaubnisschein so wie auch die Inspektion verweigert, habe ihn, Mr. Gordon, wegen seiner Mitarbeit mit mir beschimpft, und dies in einer Weise dass er, Mr. Gordon, um seine Klempner- approbation besorgt sei. Es stellt sich nun heraus, dass die Inselbehoerden von Seiten aller oertlichen Klempner, ein Boykott meiner Anlage erzwingen. Ein Verhoer findet am 3. Februar statt. Meine Eingaben ans Gericht, falls sie Dich interessierten, magst Du an meinem Netzort unter der Rubrik Litigation nachlesen. Ich denke die Verhandlungen moechten sehr spannend, sehr dramatisch werden. Ich werde alles aufschreiben und Dir Bericht erstatten. Inzwischen wuensche und hoffe ich dass Du weiterhin gesund und ruestig bleibst und den Winter unbeschadet ueberstehst. Dein Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter. Before going on to more important matters, I must debrief myself before the events of this long tiring day vanish in amnesia. I slept lightly and awoke early, rehearsing over and over again what I might tell the judge at the hearing. By six a.m. I was up. I wrote an early morning letter to my friend Cynthia Behrman. Then I dawdled reading the NY Times on the Internet. At nine-thirty I started to pack ny briefcase with a few legal records and my Loeb Library edition of the Odyssey Since I have no waterproof dress shoes, I covered what I have with rubber boots; these I would remove prior to the hearing, once I was in the courthouse. Not to be forgotten: my keys, my wallet, my MBTA senior citizen's pass, my cell phone, gloves, hat. By ten o'clock I had it all assembled and was on my way. The sidewalk was choked with snow, and five foot high ridges of snow - like models of an alpine landscape, lined the narrowed street which was awash with slush. I had started to walk on the left side facing traffic, when Mr. Traniello, a neighbor whose dog has for years favored our front lawn as his favorite "rest area", pulled up next to me in his beaten-up 20 year old Buick station wagon and insisted on driving me to the bus stop. I was early, the bus was late, but after twenty minutes of waiting on the ice-capped sidewalk, we made connections. No sooner had the bus started to careen down Concord Avenue than I noticed that I had forgotten to dress up in a necktie, that article of dress which distinguishes the lawyer in the courtroom from the evildoer about to be led off to jail. It occurred to me, that since I was so very early, I should take the time before getting on the subway in Harvard Square to celebrate my day in court by stopping at the Coop to buy a necktie. That boutique, however, is not what it used to be. The hall in which 64 years ago, men's clothing was offered for sale had been converted into a large bookstore, with sections and divisions and of course books and books too numerous to count. After keeping me waiting for five minutes, a saleslady put down the telephone and answered my inquiry. No, neckties were no longer sold by the Coop. I thanked her politely and wandered out onto Massachusetts Avenue and into the slush. A good time, I thought, after so many years, to make the rounds of Harvard Square. Albiani's, the dirty-spoon restauant I knew had long since disappeared, - but not from my memory of feasting there for lunch day after graduate school day, on spaghetti, tomato sauce, a hard roll, and a glass of water, all for thirty five cents, eschewing the luxury of meatballs which would have increased the cost by a nickel. I turned into Church Street looking for a haberdashery with neckties, and finally espied a promising establishment at the corner of Brattle Street. Yes, said the very youthful salesman, they did sell neckties, which I found less than attractive, and the price was $25, which happened to be ten dollars more than my mental necktie budget provided. I nodded appreciatively as I rejected the offer, ashamed once again that my stinginess had cast some small shadow, however fleeting, over the expectations of one of my fellow human beings. At that late juncture, 11 o'clock already, it dawned on me that although lawyers wear neckties in court, plumbers don't, and a tieless appearance would hardly jeopardize and perhaps enhance the chances of my latest motion. Since the hearing was set for 2 p.m. and the subway ride to Government Center was half an hour at most, with so much memory waiting to be refreshed, I decided this was the time for an anniversary visit to the Yard. At the corner of Boylston I nodded to the ghost of the Wursthaus, long since replaced by a more modern and much less colorful establishment, a restaurant which I myself had never frequented, but where I had located the encounters of Doehring and Murphy, two protagonists of my novel Die Andere. A few hundred feet to the east, the Bank where Dorothea, die Andere herself, had worked and from which she had been abducted into the caverns of the adjacent subway station von dem Ophthalmoluegner, as Murphy had called him. Across the curve which Massachusetts Avenue, die Staatsallee in the novel, describes at this point the long since dismantled subway exit from which Joachim Magus emerged on his arrival, trying to find "das Eulenhaus." I entered the Yard through the same gate through which I had lugged my heavy black suitcase sixty-five years earlier, walked past the window of the first floor bedroom, Matthews Hall 3, where I had spent my first 2 semesters at Harvard. Walked under the bare elms past Weld and University Halls, and stood next to Memorial Church looking first at the grand but totally humorless facade of Widener, then to Richardson's dungeon-like Sever Hall, where I failed my mid-term calculus exam. I walked back under the west side of Widener, could no longer identify the window of Professor Vietor's study where I prepared the newspaper extracts for his Nietzsche book of which his final illness prevented him from even making a beginning. Then out through the Wigglesworth arcade to Massachusetts Avenue, where the aspect of the J. August haberdashery, - which Klemens says dates to the days of Teddy Roosevelt - reminded me of the necktie I had been too cheap to buy. The store was packed with Chinese and Japanese students, as if Harvard had been transported to the Far East. However, the only ties they sold were emblazoned with Veritas shields, such as I've never worn. Too old now. The saleman directed me to a mens clothing store around the corner on Holyoke Street, with a display of many tasteful and attractive ties in the window. An elderly salesman was ready to help me. I enquired about the price. From sixty three he said to a hundred thirty five. I smiled gently and said, I take it the quotation is in dollars rather than cents. That's correct, he said, and returned my smile. It was time to go to the courthouse. No wait for the subway or the green line. I arrived two hours early and sat down on a very hard and uncomfortable bench. I read only one page in the Odyssey. Then I dozed intermittently. The courtroom was kept locked until precisely 2 p.m. As I walked in, a smallish slender, very well dressed youthful middle aged man addressed me and introduced himself as George Puzzi, Nantucket's new lawyer. I suppose out of spite, Kimberly hadn't given him my motion or memorandum. He had only a hazy notion of what the case was about. To help him get started, I gave him copies of the documents I had recently filed. There was no time for conversation. A court officer intoned "All rise", as the judge walked in. I'm not much of a ladies' man, but I found her to be a very attractive woman. Too polite, too intelligent and with too much good sense and good taste, to find it necessary to assert her liberation status. There was not much business. Ours was the third and last case. She excused herself for asking, contrary to protocol, since I was the appellant, first to hear from Mr. Pucci, The fact that she did not want to hear from me at all, far from offending, pleased me. I surmised, perhaps incorrectly, that my motion had made its point; she recognized its validity, but wanted to avoid the hard decision by pressing for compromise. With Mr. Pucci she was very stern when he explained that the Nantucket authorities did not want my case to become a precendent. "Precedents have no significance in my court. Tell that to the Nantucket authorities." The judge - I don't yet know her name - wanted a compromise by next week. Mr. Pucci asked for 30 days, and she agreed. Another hearing is scheduled for March 3, at 2 p.m. After I came home I telephoned Mr Gordon to apprise him of the latest turn of events. He was obviously pleased to hear from me. He was less taciturn than ever. The purpose of my call, I explained, was to put him on notice that Mr. Puzzi thought he could teach manners to his client, Mr. Ciarmataro, and force him to issue the plumbing permit and to inspect the plumbing. I told him of my concern that Mr. Ciarmataro might punish him if he continued supported my plubing and did not concur with Mr. Ciarmataro's criticism. I urged Mr. Gordon to look out for his own interests and to abandon me, if he deemed it best for himself. It turned out, luckily for me, that he considered my interests his interests. He was not afraid of Mr. Ciarmataro, he said, considered himself a much better plumber than the inspector. He confided to me that he had visited the house before we arrived, looked through the windows and seen that the studs were bare. He also admitted that he had spoken twice with Mr. Ciarmataro, once before the inspection and then the following day when he had asked for the plumbing permit and been denied. Mr. Ciamartaro was chagrined that contrary to his expectations, my plumbing was substantial and code compliant and did not need to be razed. Mr. Gordon stated even more forcefully than in our earlier conversation, that he believed the plumbing to be more code compliant than customary on Nantucket and should be approved. He most emphatically said that any attempt to pressure him to find fault with the plumbing would only make him more insistent on its quality. I had the impression that my rebellion against the bureaucracy is a template according to which he is prepared to express his own frustrations, and that he is finally finding release for years if not decades of harrassment by officialdom. I was much heartened, he's the plumber I need. ====================================== So far as Goethe and the Magic Flute are concerned, I am as usual apologetic for my lack of scholarship, for my readiness to speculate about situations without having gone to the trouble of ascertaining the "facts". That said, I speculate that Goethe was relatively insensitive to the unique qualities of Mozart's music. That he was impressed, if not shaken by the success of the Magic Flute with a hundred performances in a short period of time; that Goethe compared the enthusiastic reception of an opera based on a poetically inferior text with the success of his own dramatic productions, Goetz, Egmont, Iphigenia, Tasso, - which though substantial, could not compare with the success of the Magic Flute. Always sensitive to popular acclaim, Goethe wanted to get in the act. If Schikaneders mediocre prose could rouse so much enthusiasm, shouldn't Goethe's incomparable poetic gifts generate even greater success? He focussed on the language rather than the music. Couldn't find a composer for the opera. Persuaded his friend the musician Zelter to write an overture, - but that's as far as he got. And this is as far as I get. Good night. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Lieber Helmut, Vielen Dank fuer Deinen Brief. Wahrscheinlich habe ich mich schon verschiedene Mal fuer mein umgehendes Beantworten Deiner Post entschuldigt, mit der Erklaerung dass ich mir angewohnt habe zu beschreiben was jeweilig mein Gemuet beschaeftigt. Das Vergessen beschleicht die Gedanken so uebereilt wie die Winternacht den kurzen Tag. Du fragtest ob ich Christopher Gordon nicht bezahlen koennte die Klempnerarbeit nun endlich fertig zu stellen. Genau das ist der Befehl des Berufungsgerichts. Die Ironie: Gordon behauptet die Arbeit sei fertig, beduerfe keiner weiteren Bemuehungen und waere inspektionsbereit. Der oertliche Inspektor, Mr. Ciarmataro verweigert nicht nur die Inspektion sondern auch den Erlaubnisschein fuer die nun abgeschlossene Anlage. Gordon berichtet mir Ciarmataro beabsichtigte eine Inspektion von der staatlichen Behoerde, the Board of State Examiners of Plumbers and Gasfitters, zu beantragen, nimmt sich zu diesem Antrag die Zeit, und weiss auch, dass diese Behoerde eine solche Inspektion nur ausnahmsweise anstellen wuerde, wenn ueberhaupt. Ciarmataro geht es um nichts als Verzoegerung und Unterbindung meines Unternehmens. Inzwischen hat vorgestern ein weiteres Verhoer stattgefunden. Meine Notizen darueber fuege ich bei. Kriminell, schreibst Du; nein kriminell finde ich es nicht, komisch, wunderbar komisch, der Zerbrochene Krug in neuer Fassung. Ich lerne sehr viel ueber die Gerichte und ueber die Gesetze; bin demuetig und dankbar fuer die Einsicht und fuer das Verstaendnis der Umstaende die ich erlebe, dankbar dass ich darueber lachen und schreiben kann. Die Revolutionen in Nord-Afrika die Du erwaehnst, stimmen auch mich nachdenklich. Die tief empfundene Befuerwortung des Geschehens, wie etwa von Nicholas Kristof der New York Times ist mir sehr sympathisch; und doch wenn ich die Bilder der zigtausenden von Menschen am Tahrirplatz betrachte, wird mir elend bei der Vorstellung mich ihnen anschliessen zu sollen oder gar zu muessen. Ich denke an Margrit die stets bereit war mit dem naechsten Autobus dorthin zu reisen, wo die Verwirklichung ihrer Wunschtraeume in Erfuellung zu gehen versprach. Mir ist das Leben ehr undurchsichtig. Ich sehe keinen Pfad der an dem Elend der Menschheit vorbei oder gar von ihm fort fuehrt. Das soll fuer heute genug sein. Bleib gesund und froh, und freue Dich auf den Fruehling der bevorsteht. Dein Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter. The breadth of your interests leaves me breathless. From Mother Courage into the Superbowl in a single leap! Concerning Mutter Courage, when I read about her many years ago, I had serious esthetic reservations. Sorry, but she's not my type of girl. She would have no use at all for, wouldn't know what to think of Tamino and Pamina. As for the Superbowl, do I incriminate myself if I admit that I don't know where it is, or what's in it? I suspect I've missed the best part of life. The Nantucket comedy is evolving in dizzying directions. Mr. George Pucci, their new lawyer, was eager to get to business right away. On Friday he e-mailed me to the effect that he had "a good conversation" with the Building Inspector Bernie Bartlett, yielding ideas that he wished to discuss with me in a telephone conference we scheduled for Monday morning. I've been there before. Forty years ago, when I was suing the Mass Eye and Ear Infirmary, their lawyers wanted to bamboozle me with exchanges "off the record." I wouldn't. Nothing is off the record was the mantra with which I avoided all manner of traps. With the same purpose, I sent to Mr. Pucci a letter, which I'll forward to you. I had no written reply, but it was a terse, tense and somewhat annoyed Mr. Pucci who telephoned at 10:30 a.m. this morning. No bamboozling, nothing but a very brief message: Tell Mr. Gordon to pick up the plumbing permit and to schedule an inspection. It's o.k. for you to be there. At first Mr. Gordon thought it would be better if I didn't come. He's out to get me, I said, and if I'm there you won't be in the middle. Maybe, Mr. Gordon said, you should have the Nantucket lawyer there. The Inspector is a wild Italian. Liable to fly off in all directions. At this point the courageous Mr. Gordon seemed a bit fearful. How soon can you come? As soon as tomorrow, I said, anytime. Telephone me when you have the appointment. That was in late morning. I haven't heard from Mr. Gordon again. Probably he'll call in a day or two. But it's also possible that the Inspector will continue procrastinating. Time will tell. Klemens brought over three issues of the NY Review of Books, and I spent a little while trying to kindle my interest. Everything that I read left me cold: Authors writing dispassionately about what they had not experienced, what they did not understand, always for the primary purpose of publicity. Much of what I read seems to me impelled by a desire to be published rather than by a need to be understood. Or is it all sour grapes with me? I need to get back to my novel. That's where the action is, so far as I'm concerned. Will write more in a day or two. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Mr. Pucci, I haven't heard anything from Mr. Gordon about the inspection to be scheduled, but this morning I awoke with some anxiety about a potential tragedy in the making. Mr. Gordon told me that Mr. Ciarmataro has an irascible, unpredictable and potentially violent temperament. I had the impression that Mr. Gordon who characterizes himself as "a childhood cancer survivor" not afraid of death was indeed somewhat afraid of Mr. Ciarmataro. Mr. Gordon said to me "maybe you should have the Nantucket lawyer present at the inspection." I interpret him as asking for your protection from your client. In addition Mr. Ciarmataro is under personal pressure because the Town proposes to reduce his employment to half-time. He is undoubtedly under some criticism for the legal expenses that his condemnation of my plumbing sight unseen has caused the Town. I have reason to believe that Mr. Ciarmataro has a history of consistently approving plumbing which is in violation of the State Plumbing Code. I have reason to believe that Mr. Ciarmataro has attempted to persuade plumber(s) who consulted him about my plumbing of its essential deficiency. Mr. Ciarmataro refused the request of Justice Kafker at the Appeals Court hearing to inspect the plumbing. He has refused, for 60 days, to comply with the Appeals Court Order. If he is forced now to inspect the plumbing, especially in my presence, it is unavoidable that he will do so under great emotional pressure. Perhaps Mr. Gordon has reason to be afraid. Mr. Gordon has unequivocally committed himself to the Code compliance of the plumbing. Mr. Ciarmataro has provided incontrovertible evidence of his prejudice to the contrary. Mr. Gordon's future business requires continuing approval from the Town of Nantucket. It is disingenuous to suggest that under these pressure cooker circumstances, Mr. Ciarmataro is in a position to make the inspection of integrity and fairness which the Court required. Whatever its outcome, this contemplated coerced inspection is an empty legal formality. Neither you nor I want to feel responsible for human tragedy. I would like to spare Mr. Ciarmataro the anguish and the humiliation of being coerced to act against his will. Let us remand this very difficult and perhaps fateful action to the Court. That being said, the immediate decision is yours. I, for my part, have instructed Mr. Gordon to purchase the plumbing permit and to schedule the inspection, and if an inspection takes place, I will be there. Sincerely, Ernst J. Meyer =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Cyndy, Thank you for your letter. "I'm sorry about ..." is a pathetic phrase which is incapable of penetraring even to the vicinity of the realities of life and death. The transience of memory is perhaps the greatest of the blessings of old age. My observation: not only our grasp of "facts" is evanescent, but so are the feelings of the old man and the old woman. The emptiness occasioned by loss is no exception. The classical sterotype: the merry widow. Margaret and I consider being without a dog a fountain of freedom; but my parents had much need of canine companions. I'm very sympathetic with Ned. If you need a dog, why wait, the sooner you act, the sooner past and present will become inextricably confounded. The Nantucket comedy is evolving in dizzying directions. The hearing last week was a hearing at which I was not heard, not being asked to speak, because what I had written spoke for itself and could not readily be answered. Mr. George Pucci, their new lawyer, was eager to get to business right away. On Friday he e-mailed me to the effect that he had "a good conversation" with the Building Inspector Bernie Bartlett, yielding ideas that he wished to discuss with me in a telephone conference we scheduled for Monday morning. I've been there before. Forty years ago, when I was suing the Mass Eye and Ear Infirmary, their lawyers wanted to bamboozle me with exchanges "off the record." I wouldn't. "Nothing is off the record" was the mantra with which I avoided all manner of traps. With the same purpose, I sent to Mr. Pucci a letter, which I'll forward to you. I had no written reply, but it was a terse, tense and somewhat annoyed Mr. Pucci who telephoned at 10:30 a.m. yesterday morning. No bamboozling, nothing but a very brief message: Tell Mr. Gordon to pick up the plumbing permit and to schedule an inspection. It's o.k. for you to be there. At first Mr. Gordon thought it would be better if I didn't come. He's out to get me, I said, and if I'm there you won't be in the middle. Maybe, Mr. Gordon said, you should have the Nantucket lawyer there. The Inspector is a wild Italian. Liable to fly off in all directions. At this point the courageous Mr. Gordon seemed a bit fearful. How soon can you come? As soon as tomorrow, I said, anytime. Telephone me when you have the appointment. That was in late morning. I haven't heard from Mr. Gordon again. Probably he'll call in a day or two. But it's also possible that the Inspector will continue procrastinating. Time will tell. This morning I sent Mr. Pucci another e-mail. It speaks for itself. Ill keep you informed of what happens. Stay well and give my best to Ned. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter, which demonstrated, I thought, new heights of eloquence and sensitivity. As I keep reiterating, I haven't been able to distance myself sufficiently far from my father's "Das hat mit mir nichts zu tun," - for him and for me a protective insulating mode which obviates the need to acknowledge ones own limitations. My latter-day apology: that I can't allow myself to be distracted, that I need to focus on the tasks that I have undertaken, to try to discharge the obligations I've assumed. The weather-vane behavior of Nantucket's lawyers, although emblematic of their weakness, takes its toll on me, requiring almost non-stop retooling of my intellectual arsenal. No sooner have I elaborated a given legal strategy, that the wind changes direction and a new set of paradigms is in order. All well and good, if I can pull it off, but it's energy consuming and makes me tired. Yesterday morning, up at 3:45 for a 4:30 breakfast with Klemens preliminary to taking him to the airport. Back in bed by 6 a.m. to sleep until 8:30. Then final mental preparations for the 10:30 telephone conference with Mr. Pucci, unexpectedly pressing for prompt inspections as if a bubble of Nantucket's legal strategy had burst. Next the necessary telephone call to Mr. Gordon, who becomes more confiding each time we speak. He has on several occasions referred to the fact of his being a "childhood cancer survivor", unafraid of death, for years having had to accept the fact that each month might be the last. I've come to the interpretation that perhaps he intuitively recognizes my struggles with the Nantucket authorities as the antics of a "childhood Nazi survivor", although I've never apprised him of that fact. (You may remember that my friend Helmut Frielinghaus has given me permission to stigmatize them as "Mini-Nazis.") The rest of yesterday I felt unusually tired, so much so that I was unable to write and went to bed very early for me, at 8 p.m. Today I'm back to normal, as you can infer from the letter to Mr. Pucci which I forwarded to you. And now, back to the novel. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Mr. Pucci, If I understood correctly, at the hearing of February 3, 2011 in SUCV-2008-05664 E, the Court requested the parties to try to agree and to present at the hearing on March 3, 2011 a draft consent decree for the Court's approval. This memorandum is my contribution to the groundwork for such an agreement. I acknowledge that the Town of Nantucket defends itself with the assertion that it has sought in good faith to implement the statutes and regulations of the Commonwealth. The appellant, on the other hand, asserts that in violation of 42 USC 1983, the Town of Nantucket has for 6 1/2 years by unlawful threats of destroying his property and by other unlawful actions including forgery and fabrication of evidence and the maintenance of a frivolous lawsuit, injured the appellant by depriving him of his civil rights. My primary interest is the well-being of all individuals involved, primarily Mr. Ciarmataro the Plumbing Inspector whose legal, professional and personal position I consider precarious. For reasons outlined in my e-mail to you of February 8, I ask that Mr. Ciarmataro NOT be coerced to issue a plumbing permit against his will and that he NOT be coerced to perform a plumbing inspection against his will. Secondly, I am concerned for the future of the plumbing business on Nantucket of Mr. Gordon. In distinction to 26 colleagues who refused, Mr. Gordon was sufficently courageous, rash or imprudent to offer to obtain a plumbing permit and to contradict the Inspector's prejudiced assertion that my plumbing was non-compliant with the Plumbing Code and required to be replaced. Each of Mr. Gordon's future plumbing installations on Nantucket will require to be submitted to Mr. Ciarmataro of whose vindictiveness and bias this record is the most dramatic illustration imaginable, whose lack of objectivity and detachment precludes inspections of fairness and integrity, not only of my plumbing installations but of Mr. Gordon's as well. I ask that I NOT be put in the position where I have no alternative but to exploit Mr. Gordon's unique emotional disposition to persuade him to a course of action which I as well as all 26 of his colleagues consider imprudent and which must reasonably be expected gravely to prejudice Mr. Gordon's plumbing business on Nantucket, if not indeed to make that business impossible. My own interest is the swift and economical completion of my construction. When I began this project, I was 74 years old. Six and a half years have since elapsed, at least three and a half of them awaiting judicial decisions. Meanwhile I have experienced that decline in physical and mental strength which is inevitable between ages 74 and 80 1/2 and which will certainly continue unpredictably gradual or precipitous in the forseeable future. At my age, the only rational course is to make all financially affordable compromises to complete the construction as quickly as possible. I suggest the following Consent Decree: 1. The plumbing inspector rescinds the Order to Cease Desist and Abate illegal plumbing. 2. The Town of Nantucket certifies compliance of rough plumbing, rough wiring, and framing with the applicable Codes. 3. The Town of Nantucket certifies compliance with the requirements of the Historic District Commission with respect: a) to the structure as built, and, but not appearing on the plans, b) a front entrance platform and c) rain-roofs over the three doorways. 4. The Town of Nantucket issues a temporary certificate of occupancy of indefinite duration, which temporary certificate shall remain in full force and effect until, if ever, it is replaced with a permanent certificate of occupancy. 5. Subsequent to the date of the consent decree, the Town of Nantucket agrees to accept, in lieu of inspections, Certificates of Compliance issued by the appellant with respect to all Massachusetts Regulations for which otherwise inspection would be required, including, but not to the exclusion of others, insulation, final plumbing, final wiring, and final building inspection. 6. The appellant waives all damage claims under State and Federal law. 7. The appellant pays to the Town of Nantucket the sum of ??? thousand dollars to be distributed as bonuses to the Plumbing Inspector and to other employees of the Building Department. If all this is not a non-starter, please let me hear from you. Sincerely, Ernst Meyer =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx .ce 20110210.00 .PP Before the judge whose name I don't know, I have an unopposed motion in effect to set aside the appeals court judgment. Nominally the Court rules only on the evidence in front of it. The court that fails to allow an unopposed motion, is, by definition, biased. .PP Consider Mr. Gordon's predicament. The Inspector has been telling him as forcefully as possible, that he, the Inspector will withhold plumbing permits at his discretion. If he can deny Mr. Gordon the plumbing permit for 3 Red Barn Road with impunity and without reason and contrary to the decree of the Appeals Court, he can deny Mr. Gordon any and all other plumbing permits for which Mr. Gordon applies in the future; and the malice and unlawfulness of the Inspectors prior behavior shows that he will. =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Marion, Thank you for your letter. It's now about 10:30 p.m. and at 5:45 I'll get up to take Klemens to the airport for another one of his professional trips, this one to San Francisco. What he'll be doing there, I'll find out in the car. I've just finished the first draft of Chapter 44 of my novel. I'm pleased with it, although undoubtedly there is much to improve. If you're in the mood and have time, I would be interested to know what you think. http://home.earthlink.net/~jochenmeyer/freunde/f044.html On the Nantucket front, there's another exchange with Mr. Pucci http://home.earthlink.net/~jochenmeyer/litigation/20110209_ejm-gp I was toying with the idea of filing and docketing a notice of the URL, thinking that details of my negotiations with Mr. Pucci would be helpful to the Court; however, I decided the judge might find me too pushy, and both Mr. Ciarmataro and Mr. Gordon might consider themselves defamed by my candor. Therefore, I've decided, at least for the time being, to leave this exchange inccessible with it's URL unindexed. Mr. Pucci says that the issues are simple, - that's what the Court wants to hear. From my perspective they're so tangled and complex that the Court won't take the time to unravel them. I've heard nothing more from Mr. Gordon. So far as I know, the plumbing permit hasn't been issued and no inspection has been performed. Three weeks from today there will be another hearing. My motion and memorandum http://home.earthlink.net/~jochenmeyer/litigation/motion110112.txt http://home.earthlink.net/~jochenmeyer/litigation/memorandum110112.txt have been filed and are unopposed. If the Court were truly impartial and unprejudiced, the motion would be allowed as a matter of course, since in theory the duty of the Court is to weigh the motion and the opposition without taking sides. But that idealization is, of course, a pipe dream. Thanks very much for the hint about plastic show covers to facilitate putting on galoshes. With my arthritic hips, I have been having a very difficult time, and your suggestion will probably make the ordeal much easier. Whether prejudices are unconscious dispositions or logical, conscious conclusions is obviously an interesting and an important issue. I much favor the concept that tolerance is conscious control and compensation for instinctive reactions, a form of self-discipline which requires continuing diligent efforts. But maybe I'm wrong. It's time or almost time for bed. Good night. Jochen =====================xxxxxxxxxxxxx Dear Cyndy, Thank you for your letter. The dramatis personae of the comedy are Mr. William Ciarmataro, plumbing inspector, Mr. Bernie Bartlett, building inspector, Mr. George X. Pucci, attorney for the Town of Nantucket, Mr. Christopher Michael Gordon, childhood cancer survivor, and plumber to the appellant, and the appellant himself, childhood Nazi survivor, professional persona non grata and lifelong trouble maker for the authorities. No, I haven't heard from Mr. Gordon. He is, understandably, a most reluctant plumber in this performance, in the first place, because there's no plumbing that by honest standards requires to be done, and most importantly because Mr. Gordon has wagered his plumbing business for a measely thousand dollars, and may already have lost it. Consider that the determined Mr. Ciarmataro is demonstrating his power, defying the Massachusetts Court of Appeals by withholding from Mr. Gordon the plumbing permit for 3 Red Barn Road because the property owner is persona non grata. Mr. Ciamartaro has emphatically and angrily voiced his displeasure with Mr. Gordon for his association with the persona non grata and especially for Gordon's impudence in applying for a permit as a prelude to an inspection that would demonstrate the adequacy of the contested plumbing. Consider how Mr. Ciarmataro is likely to deal with Mr. Gordon's next application for a plumbing permit for even the most innocuous customer's installation, - when there's no Massachusetts Appeals Court to reverse the verdicts of the Suffolk Superior Court and of the Board of State Examiners of Plumbers and Gas Fitters. And no good lawyer available to file the appeal, and no money for the appeal even if a good lawyer could be found. Why did Mr. Gordon break ranks with his 26 fellow Nantucket plumbers and fail to participate in the boycott of the persona non grata, thereby quite possibly forfeiting his business? In each of my three conversations with Mr. Gordon he has emphasized that he is a childhood cancer survivor who having spent his life in fear of recurrence has learned to be not afraid. That's the secret: as Mr. Gordon has been afraid all these years of the recurrence of cancer so he is now afraid of Mr. Ciarmataro's power to destroy C. M. Gordon Plumbing and Heating. His reaction to fear is a denial that has resulted not only in a show of courage as the essential emblem of survival, but also in a realistic and healthy lack of perseverance in pursuing Mr. Ciarmataro for a plumbing permit. It seems unlikely but not impossible that there will be new developments prior to the March 3, hearing. Meanwhile, I've collected my correspondence with Mr. Pucci in an Internet file. The attached "Appellant's Notice of Internet Exhibits" should speak for itself. I haven't filed it yet, - plan to do so on February 18. It was just four weeks ago today that I sent you a synopsis of Chapter 43 of my novel Die Freunde. I've made a slight modification by providing my protagonist Jonathan Mengs with cubicle in the basement, a chair and a desk, some sheets of blank paper and a pencil with which to outline the jurisprudence which he has discovered - or invented, premised on the insight that law is language - that all language has the propensity of controlling action, and that because language is incapable of expressing (subjective) experience (Erleben) law is predestined to failure. All this is expounded with academic formality. There's no constraint on length, no paper shortage. Underlying is the premise that it is truth - the intellectual apperception of truth which makes us free. In the case of Mengs in his subterranean cubicle, the physical path to freedom described as Chapter 44 begins, is a rickety, flimsy ladder on which Mengs begins his ascent out of the depths. As he proceeds, the ceiling aperture recedes at the same time that the ladder becomes more and more substantial, changes into a staircase, until finally when the horizon of Mengs gaze rises above the level of the ceiling, the ambience changes. Mengs now finds himself on an elegant carpeted stairway which curves in grandeur to a second level. The cellar from which he has escaped is now no longer visible; the vertigo, the fear of falling into the abyss from which he was arduously ascending has dissipated. The floor below which Mengs now contemplates with equanimity and pleasure is a beutiful mosaic depicting the earth, its snow capped poles, its deep blue oceans and sprawling continents, soaring mountains, green forests and rolling deserts, a panorama as seen from outer space. At the same time, the lobby is crowded with visitors, tourists, sightseers from many countries; there are children racing around in miniature automobiles, fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, even a hearse staffed with funeral attendants. Mengs is relieved that these common folk are not permitted in the higher levels of this magnificent building to which he has access as an academician, a professor and a scholar. The most impressive library Mengs has ever seen. A labyrinth of bookshelves as far as the eye can see. Meticulously polished expanses of hardwood floors, covered with more oriental carpets from the Middle East than Mengs is able to count. Luxurious tables, inlaid with mosaics of precious woods into images of prominent jurists complete with the number of death sentences each has pronounced. Clusters of law students, some in meticulous clothes: the men in tailored suits, starched shirts and elegant ties; the women in demure long dresses, looking except for the missing bonnets like pious Mennonites. These have their counterparts in men with torn and stained dungarees, their shirts unbuttoned revealing hairy chests, with shirt tails fluttering over their hips. And girls with very low cut blouses, inviting and permitting the inspection of extraordinary cleavage, and minipants so stingy in expanse that Mengs finds very little left to his imagination. Absorbed as he is in the study of a particularly enticing pelvic anatomy, Mengs is startled when he is approached by one of the uniformed waiters whom he has observed not only reshelving books, but also plying the students with refreshments, coffee, tea, cakes and brandies whose aromas suffuse the air. The waiter, however, seems sympathetic also to that most elementary of human failings, Mengs' absorption in the contours of the female pelvis. The waiter apologizes to Mengs for having interrupted the meditation, and asks what he might do to help. Mengs explains that he is looking for his friend Maximilian Katenus, who, it is said has some association with this august institution, although Mengs is not sure what that association might be. ======================= Must stop now, get ready to fetch Klemens from the airport at 9:52 p.m. In the next letter, I'll tell you more about what was going on in that library, if you really want to know. Give my best to Ned and stay well. Jochen _ _ _ _ _ Commonwealth of Massachusetts Superior Court _ Suffolk, ss. C.A. No. SUCV2008--5664-E _ _ _____________________________________ _ | _ | _ Ernst J. Meyer, | _ appellant | _ v. | _ Nantucket Building Department | _ and | _ Board of State Examiners of Plumbers | _ and Gas Fitters, | _ respondents | _ _____________________________________| _ _ _ _ Appellant's Notice of Internet Exhibits _ ======================================= _ _ _ The appellant respectfully gives notice that for _ the convenience of the Court, he is placing into a pass- _ word protected Internet computer file, documentation of _ negotiations between the defendant the Nantucket _ Building Department and himself. Unless otherwise ordered _ by the Court, the appellant will update these exhibits _ as negotiations proceed. _ _ To access these exhibits, one types the password: _ _ http://home.earthlink.net/~ernstmeyer/SUCV2008-05664/201102xx_ejm-gp _ _ into the browser's address bar. Alternatively, if obtained _ by e-mail from ernstmeyer@earthlink.net, the password may _ be pasted into the address bar electronically. _ _ If the Court exercises its discretion to seal this _ Notice, these Internet Exhibits, being password protected, _ will be concealed from public view. _ _ _ _ February 18, 2011 Ernst J. Meyer _ pro se _ 174 School Street _ Belmont, Massachusetts 02478 _ 617-484-8109 _ ernstmeyer@earthlink.net _ _ _ _ -2- _ _ _ CERTIFICATE OF SERVICE _ _ I, Ernst J. Meyer, appellant pro se, certify that _ I served the foregoing Appellant's Notice of Internet _ Exhibits to the attorneys of record for both defendants _ by mailing on February 18, 2011, postage pre-paid, true _ copies thereof to _ _ Davis Hadas, Asst. Attorney General _ Office of the Attorney General _ One Ashburton Place _ Boston MA 02108 _ _ George X. Pucci, Esq. _ 101 Arch Street _ Boston MA 02110 _ _ Paul R. DeRensis, Esq. _ Kimberly Saillant, Esq. _ DEUTSCH WILLIAMS BROOKS DERENSIS & HOLLAND, PC _ One Design Center Place, Suite 600 _ Boston MA 02210 _ _ _ _ 174 School Street Ernst J. Meyer _ Belmont MA 02478 appellant pro se _ 617-484-8109 _ ernstmeyer@earthlink.net _