On This Date in 1998

Dear Dox,

What a surprise to hear from you last year. Adding you to our Christmas card list was a shot in the dark. Sorry I waited an entire year to respond.

I just enclosed a note in a card to Dave and Lynn, who now own lakefront property just north of Oshkosh. And that’s about all I know about their lives. We’ve been out of touch for a long time now. The last time I got together with them was at least 8 years ago. We still send them a card every year at Christmas even though they seem to have scratched us off their list. Most of my Oshkosh connections seem to have shorted out after nearly 13 years of inattention. The people I’ve stayed in touch with are all current or former Oshkosh Public Library employees. JoAnna and I have developed an active sports life as spectators, thanks primarily to Andy who now moves from one season to the next without a break. And only in 5th grade. Eddie takes a more cavalier attitude toward sports, preferring to create these fantastically detailed drawings with colored pencils and engage in creative play with his growing collection of Star Wars toys.

In general, things are going very well here.

June 5, 1992

Once again I have only the dimmest memory of the specific circumstances of going to bed last night.  How far into Nick at Nite's evening line-up did I remain conscious?  I really have no idea.

I almost miss the WAPL board meeting in Oshkosh.  I stop at City Hall and the library to get the checks ready for distribution.  Ilene informs me that Marie has called in sick.  Fortunately, Susan is willing to fill in for the day.

Ten miles into the trip, I curse myself for not bringing along the camcorder.  I wanted to shoot a memory-lane video as I drove around Oshkosh.  It will have to be done at another time.

I'm fifteen minutes late for the meeting, but the group present is still chatting informally once I arrive since they don't have a quorum.  My presence takes care of that problem.  I'm expecting a short meeting, under two hours, meaning that we'll be done around noon, but it takes us until nearly 2 to get through the agenda.  That gives me only the briefest of opportunities to walk through the library and greet familiar faces.  On a Friday afternoon in the summer when the reduced 37-hour work week has one into effect, the possibilities are greatly reduced.   Except for John Stoneberg, who is eager to get back to Eau Claire, the board members eat lunch at Tortilla Flats, my choice -- and my first visit since the restaurant has moved into its new location.  The cheese crisp is still as massive and tasty and filling as ever.

I always experience such a tingle of disbelief whenever I visit Oshkosh, as if I have returned to a special dreamworld.  I did so little here professionally, but so much socially, which is the area I gave more priority anyway -- though maybe I underestimate my achievements here.  I wonder how I would feel about myself today if I were still there, still single perhaps, still content to have biking and drugs as my main sources of pleasure.  I think I'd be an awfully weary, self-loathing man.

Time constraints do not allow any surprise visits,  I think about how much I'd like to see Bob for even a few minutes.  Driving past Dave and Lynn's duplex, I notice a swing set and sandbox in the back yard.   For the people who rent the upstairs apartment?  Or have Dave and Lynn moved elsewhere?  For all I know, they could be in another state.  I haven't been in touch with them for nearly two years.

The Nissan is one of a multitude of vehicles speeding along highway 151.  I return to Madison in time to cash my check at the credit union, but not to contact JoAnna about picking up the boys.

We spent the evening at Festa Italia with Larry and Martha and Michael (and Martha's sister Liz).  It's so much fun watching Andy interact with other children his age.  He makes friends so quickly.

Wednesday, December 18, 1991

Wisconsin State Journal, 12/18/1991

The alarm is set for 5:30, a half hour earlier than usual, due to the fact that I need to be in Appleton by 9.  I make it there with an hour to spare.  I'm disappointed to find the Casbah restaurant closed, so I settle for breakfast at Burger King.  College Avenue, to my horror, is a shell of its former self.  The Grand Chute mall has certainly sucked most of the life out of downtown.  

The reference workshop goes very well.  I really zip through my material with confidence.  I stay for lunch, hitting the road at 2, and take a detour through Oshkosh to press a few memory cells.  I remember how many times I saw the same views from the seat of my bicycle.  Once in Madison, I stop at the credit union to cash my honorarium check, then unload the six boxes of books at the library.  JoAnna wants KFC for dinner but I want to change and have a martini first.  I take a few sips and then stash the glass in the freezer while Andy and I make the trek to KFC.  The Middleton store has nothing ready, always a problem at this location.  I can't resist making a few disparaging remarks as we leave.  The store on Mineral Point Road is loaded with chicken.  

We have a dinner party in the family room, something we would have never done with  Barb, god forbid, still being here.  JoAnna crashes early, and once again Andy and I stay up to watch Green Acres.

May 10, 1991

I take a relaxed approach to the morning.  I decide to skip the morning session at the WAPL conferenceand just do my table talk at 1.  I stop at city hall to pick up my paycheck, and after a stop at the credit union, put on the feedback at the East Towne IHOP.  Perkins, unfortunately, was jam-packed.  No chicken scramble that my taste buds were craving.  Then I head for Oshkosh.  Oshkosh!  Hey, wait a minute.  I thought Point was the destination.  Well, it is, but I decide to pay Paul's parents a visit so I can reclaim my long-lost pack.  They're home, and we chat for about 10 minutes.  (I'm on a very tight schedule.)  When Mrs. Stearns comes downstairs with my pack, I wonder to myself why the zippers are opened and the contents look rummaged through.  I take 21 west out of Oshkosh and reminisce about trips to Redgranite and mellow summer buzzes.  Just west of Waupaca, I worry about my timely arrival.  A few miles after I turn onto 51, a mileage sign reassures me.  I have plenty of time.  The table talks are less than satisfactory, as far as I'm concerned.  Way too many participants in one case; way too few in another.  I get back to Madison in time -- just in time -- to pick up Andy.

December 14, 1980 (Letter to Michael)

Michael Kanter and Tony Szczygiel, on the occasion of Tony's marriage to Andrea Szalnaski.

The post office keeps returning all the letters I've written and mailed to you. I just can't figure out this mystery. Every letter is stamped "undeliverable" to the point where the return address is nearly blotted out. In fact, the last letter was returned with a note scrawled on the reverse of the address side of the envelope: I wouldn't deliver this piece of mail with a ten-foot pole. It sounds like you're planning to stiff your letter carrier again this year. Haven't you heard of the holiday spirit -- of greed on earth, goodwill to me? This time I'm going to tape a ten-dollar bill to the envelope -- think that'll be enough? -- to insure delivery. Next year, though, you're on your own.

Even though it was a very brief reunion, I enjoyed the opportunity to see you and Elizabeth again. Your gray hairs were quite noticeable. I hope you plan to do something about them. I know a certain individual -- think he goes by the name of Ronnie, some airhead who's the latest rage in Washington -- who could probably give you a few pointers.

Seriously now, what are your plans for the Cambridge store? Personally, I'd like to see you become involved in a less tension-producing pursuit. Since I plan to be around for awhile, I'd like to have certain good friends of mine do likewise. No matter that the reunions are becoming too infrequent.

During the past month, I've started to look at my surroundings much differently. I haven't been able to pinpoint the source of this transformation. Perhaps it's just a logical and natural personal development. Oshkosh has been very good to me. I have a job that I enjoy and am excelling at and I've formed some very close friendships. When I study the situation more thoroughly, though, I realize that I don't want to be just a librarian for the rest of my life.

I also see that the activities my best friends and I are involved in are leading us nowhere as far as any intellectual gratification or fulfillment is concerned. We drink a lot of beer, we smoke a lot of dope, we party a lot -- mindlessly, as if we're stumped about how else to spend the time -- and we play a lot of cards -- sheepshead, mostly. It's good for a lot of laughs, but I'm finding myself becoming rather bored. I look at the people I hang around with -- mostly couples, interestingly enough -- and see very few signs of ambition or adventure. It's getting to be the same old shit. Too predictable.

Lately, I've attempted to make myself somewhat scarce without arousing any suspicion. ("What's the matter, he's too good for us all of a sudden?") I've started to tackle some more ambitious writing projects, outside of the usual journal entries and correspondence. Yesterday I mailed a 900-word essay to the Chicago Tribune using the recent publication of The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty as a jumping-off point. It's not a book review. More like musings on the state of the short story in American literature. The Tribune prints a weekly column on its editorial page for which it solicits essays form its readers. What have I got to lose, I figured. At this point in time, I really needed a small project for which I could discipline myself.

Less than a week ago, I began writing a short story, somewhat autobiographical and based on a recent incident in my life that helped to lead me to this present re-evaluation. I foresee problems with the ending, but so far I'm quite pleased with what I have written.

Enclosed are a few prints from some slides you might enjoy. Keep them. I had extra copies made. The wide-angle lens makes a bit of a difference in normal picture-taking. Hello Elizabeth, Kathy, and, ah...what's the status on the new arrival?

December 10, 1979

8:00 Eight hours of sleep is more than enough. Read Strangers in the Land, p. 77-96.
9:25 yoga. David Grisman Quintet
9:45 set up book shelf in front of my bedroom window. Breakfast
10:30 Happy the Man
10:55 Shower, dress for work
11:05 Four Tops Greatest Hits
11:30 Leave for work
1:00 Deliver radio spot announcement to radio stations. When I return to the library, Shelia asks me the day's date. I had signed out the van for Monday, the 17th. Tom had already signed it out for 1:00 p.m. today. He was not pleased.
3:00 Gloria and I compose a letter to Jim Coughlin to recommend the formation of a committee to study a more equitable approach for a county-wide library levy.
4:30 Haircut. Walk to Tortilla for dinner.
7:00 Susie and Jackie are at the movie, Shall We Dance
9:30 Four Tops Greatest Hits. Letter from Dan.
10:20 Flash and the Pan. Write notes on some Christmas cards.

The Day Before Thanksgiving 1980

  9:40      First consciousness.  What did I fall asleep to last night?  Camel.  Side 2 of Moonmadness.  Didn't last long.

10:00      Even though I'm ready to do a wash, I hesitate to leave yet.  Do        a little cleanup -- specifically, the kitchen floor.  On my hands and knees with a washcloth.

11:00      Barb returns from her trip to the laundromat.  Just as I figured.  Now it's my turn.

11:40      Western Car Wash on Witzel.  I'm too lazy to do it myself, altho it's the perfect fall day for such a task.  Clear skies and a temperature approaching forty degrees.

11:50      Bank, Mueller-Potter (to buy a Tribune), Park Plaza (to buy a New York Times at Paper Tiger since the first stop had sold out), post office, and the library (to call the Clem Williams film company to check on their return policy.)

12:30      Laundry time.  Read the papers to pass the time.  Cute little girl, maybe 15-18 months old, responded to the smiles I shot at her.

1:45 Bought the fixin's for potato pancakes. Made too much batter, as usual.
.

3:00 Tummy filled, kitchen cleaned, it's now time for smoke some drugs.

Music --

Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, the Who.

A dim late afternoon light suffuses the living room

3:50 Joe Pass.

Oshko h Oriential Foods & Video