I have this author who
doesn’t have a computer and so our correspondence is not via e-mail but via the
U.S. postal service, and he makes his own stationery by photocopying cartoons
at the top of an 8.5 x 11-inch sheet, and he gets me politically/musically and
sometimes sends articles, like that one about John Prine, and I find him
utterly charming and appropriately curmudgeonly, and a few weeks ago I replied
to his most recent letter and last week went to the office and there it was back, marked undeliverable, and the
museum confirmed the address I used, and searching obituaries reveals nothing,
and now all I have is a phone number and I’m scared to dial it.
Oh no. You have to dial it, right? But so very scary, all the same.
ReplyDeleteThing is, I think he lives alone and he's notorious for never answering his phone anyway. Still haven't done it.
DeleteOh no is right. How old is he? I'm sure you checked to see if you could possibly have written the address wrong. When I was a teenager my family had an elderly friend who made his stationery the same way. He was charming too. I hope you discover a reassuring explanation.
ReplyDeleteChecked the address with our records. It's right. He's in his seventies.
DeleteEchoing the "oh no"s. This month's theme is starting to depress me.
ReplyDeleteOh no indeed.
ReplyDeleteI hope you've dialed it in the days since posting this. Half dreading reading on and finding out.
ReplyDelete