Thursday, February 03, 2005

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

A Tale of Love and Darkness, Amos Oz

The first tale:

I could not get to see Bob as things got very complicated. I was to drive to a certain house in the far west of Ft, Lauderdale, a little known section of Tamarac, where he would be visiting another friend who is living with an Israeli. Then we would go aside for a time together.

Finding this place in Tamarac is harder than finding Timbuktu--and Spencer and I had a hard enough time getting there.

I obtained sets of directions from the friend, the Israeli, and later from MapQuest. MapQuest could not find the house until prompted by a US Postal Zipcode.

But then he left a voice mail asking me to come earlier but I was at the gym and so did not get his call until I got out of the gym returned to my car, the Solera convertible of which we spoke the other day.

And there was a second voice mail that he had arrived at the friend's house and that I should come there for a short time after which he would be going to still another house where Robin's brother, Mason, was staying (or lived?) ... At his point I decided that I should just go home and see Bob the next time that I am in New York which will be in February.

Is Robin's brother actually named Mason, or is he a bricklayer, or a member of a secret society? I'd like to get to the bottom of this. If he is a Mason perhaps he would have shown me a secret handshake or two--maybe I should have gone.

The second tale:

I am sending a copy of the Amos Oz book to Michel's (Patti's daughter) husband who is a history buff and who has a special interest in things Jewish. I can't finish the book because I keep rereading his sentences and paragraphs. He is delicious. Better than eating a warm, fresh apple pie with a slice of cheddar cheese and better than most sex. Oz knows how to write--and yes, the translator did a fine job. I can't help reading the same lines over and over again.

But, from the memoir you can see that he had the genes to write and was brought up in a house of writers. Gad, there's so much to do. Now we have to find out about S. Y. Agnon. Did you know anything about him before the book? I had heard of him--but that's all.

I was speaking with my mother this morning who sends regards to all and who reminds me to be tolerant.