Most postal mail I receive at the 181 is from older people inquiring if I have any interest in or insight into the value of their copies of “The Etude” music magazine. Rummaging through their own closets or those of their deceased forebears they find 1920s-era copies of that magazine and feel they have found something worth a fortune. I typically tell them the truth, which is that the magazines are worth very little. But what is interesting to me is how that generation still writes postal mail letters.
Today I received a letter from a 20-something possessed of what describes as a passion for payphones. She saw the “Hang Up” payphone documentary and says she was particularly taken by my business of calling a voicemail box from payphones and recording the sounds from nearby — usually subway buskers and street musicians. She is based in New Orleans but staying in New York until the end of the year, and invited herself along when I next go payphone hunting. I’ll be happy to correspond but the meetup might be taking it a little far. We’ll see. Funny, though, for all the time and energy I gave to that film I never expected a single bit of fan mail.
I am at a Panera. The place is inhabited by a lot of people at the moment but chief among them for me is a very tall bald dude who I’ve known off and on for maybe 10 years. I last saw him at a funeral for a mutual friend. I hate saying anything negative about him because he is actually a nice guy, he just gets annoying and overbearing. He is here playing chess with a couple of friends. I did not get a look at them but I assume it is the same 2 friends he’s hung out with every time I’ve seen him since 2005, and that he has known since high school. I just realized,: 3 people playing chess? Maye it’s tag team. Nothing wrong with lifelong friendships but my instincts say that people should branch out in that realm. Really am hoping he doesn’t see me on my way out of here. I am certain he will say something and annoy the fuck out of me.
