July 7, 2011

Dear Cyndy,

House-painting, that's what I have been doing instead of answering your letters. Please accept my apologies.  Going up and coming down the ladder concentrates my thoughts on the position of the right foot and on the position of the left foot with respect to each of the fifteen or so rungs which support me and keep me from falling twelve feet and breaking - who knows what.

In comparison with the painting, which is immediate, messy, somewhat dangerous, but productive of visible results, my other enterprises, the novel and the law- suit, fade into relative insignificance. The novel is always available to absorb my emotions and energies; the lawsuit must bide its time until the judges are ready to contemplate the incongruity of the law, and, I suppose, ready to venture another glimpse at the absurdity of their profession. But I am very patient.  At age 81, time and eternity have begun to merge.

When I see the hummingbirds fight over who is to be chief and perch on the tip of the pole that supports their feeder, I'm reminded that Parmenides had it wrong: there is no "being", no equilibrium, no peace.  I vote for Heracleitus who understood that our world is in flux and that the contests which we have with one another are integral to our existence. It is language which creates for us a semblance of order and tranquillity. Language was Montaigne's forte, and reading his essays makes us feel calm and secure.  Been there; done that.

Margaret and I will be starting back to Belmont soon, no later than July 13, possibly sooner. There are a few patients in waiting to be seen the following week.  Then I plan one or more sallies to Nantucket to document by means of photographs and measurements the nature and the extent of Mr. Ciarmataro's fabrications. Also I have in my mind a simple design for a bucket toilet which I will construct from a toilet seat mounted on an assemblage of 1 1/2" PVC fittings over a $3 Home Depot paint bucket.  This device, together with a garden hose attached directly to the pressure tank, should make it possible for Margaret and myself to stay on Nantucket in reasonable comfort without violating Mr. Ciamataro's draconian prohibition, - while I put the finishing touches on the electrical installation.

I'll report to you as way opens. Stay well. Don't let the medicine wizards inject steroids into your knee.  Give my best to Ned.  

Jochen

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