OHIO TRIP FOR RITA'S GRADUATION
December 12 - 26, 1968
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 12. Look at the clock at 2 and at 3, but finally it's 6 and I'm finishing packing and eating as the sun brightens the sky, and move everything into the car, broken when my "Polish matched luggage" of shopping bags tears in front of Ben and Josie, and take off at 7 am, with 6060 miles on the speedometer. Coming up through Lincoln Tunnel the sun is just beginning to appear through the Manhattan skyline, and I say goodbye for the next two weeks. Rather frantic driving on and off the freeways and through the new construction areas, and get gas, and finally get onto 22 for the long straight drive through Jersey and Pennsylvania to Harrisburg. The day is cloudy, but brightens until finally I realize what I've forgotten on this trip: my sunglasses. It gets warm in the car and my feet are cold, but finally I hit a happy medium in the heating. Take the wrong exit through Harrisburg, and again get involved in construction and slow traffic, but still making good time and get to the turnpike, deciding to do a steady 75 mph on the 65 limit highway. About 1 pm I'm getting very tired, and terribly uninterested in driving, but then two little cars whiz past me, and two college students are playing tag up to 85 around the curves and hills and tunnels of the turnpike. It strikes me as fun, so I follow them, with the result that I get to the last food stop, finally hungry, at 2 pm and can't leave the turnpike, or they can see that I've been speeding, until 2:30. So I stop for lunch, take off at 80 on the 70 Ohio Turnpike, and get into Cuyahoga Falls at 4, finally getting directly home at 4:30, having no trouble on the city streets. Talk to Rita, and Mom gets home at 5, then we eat and Rita has to go to school, and Mom lets her hair down about how much she'd been sleeping around before she married Walter. "What do you think I put up with Mike for?" "Mom, I wished I'd KNOWN you were going to bed with him---I wouldn't have thought so much that you were wasting your time!" She tells about how she would go crawling back to Dad merely to have sex, even when they were fighting like animals during the day, and how a neighbor told her Mother about "The Strange Lady" who kept visiting my father during the night, and it was my mother. That was the reason she liked Jim so much, that was the reason she went out with so many younger men. She told about Delores and her adventures in motels with men who would pick them up in bars. True to form, instantly I learned my mother was as human as she was, my respect and affection for her rose greatly, and I almost wished I could tell her how much I liked to be in bed with someone who excited me, but I could only say things like "Well, I know how much fun I have in bed, and I figured I had to get it from somewhere, and I guess I got it from you." To which she replied in her typical way "I know, that's why you'll never get married. Why buy a cow when you can get all the free milk you want?" Then Rita came back at 9, and we laughed about how we had "nothing to talk about" while she was out. We three sat and talked about relatives, school, and current plans and animosities until I pleaded that I was tired at 11 and went to bed, with them still watching TV.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 13. I wake up at 10, amazed to have slept all of 11 hours, and Mom is still there, having stayed home from work. We talk and I unpack and get things in order, and Rita has to go to school to pick up her cap and gown, so I drive her and we tour the Student Lounge, where the large panes of windows held together only by a sliver a glass placed crosswise cause me some wonder, and the Auburn Science Center. Most of the rooms are open, and we have a gas in one of the huge lecture rooms, five TV monitors ranged down each side of the room, and I find an old grade book and two ROTC caps which she wants as souvenirs in the cabinets under the lab desks. The elevators are running and we tour one of the four towers, looking in at the dark laboratories devoted to two students, rows of gleaming microscopes for the biology classes, bottles of living and dead Drosophila, and we stare through the door at the greenhouse gleaming greenly in the magenta sunset. Across the windy walkway to Schrank Hall, and I agree with Rita's comment that the color coded floors are poorly colored: a kind of khaki orange, a revolting purple blue, a blinding yellow, and a bile green. Back through the walkways, admiring the few students still striding through the cold day in their well-thighed trousers, and to Memorial Hall, after we talk to Mrs. Myers and Clinefelter who tell us that Helen isn't in the Library, where I glimpse chesty basketball players and follow Rita to the door where she screams "Donna!" and introduces me to two of her friends. In the parking lot we pass Dr. Selby, but I'm sure he wouldn't remember me, so I say nothing to him. Back home to eat and watch TV and talk, and out comes the Scrabble board and Rita re-teaches Mom Oh Hell, and Mom teaches us Swick, which is hardly interesting with its drawing of three cards and need to take two tricks. With many people it might be interesting, but three is marginal. It's after midnight by this time, and we all get into bed about the same time.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 14. Wake at 10 and do nothing in particular except argue with Mom and Rita about what to do to have the house presentable for the catered party tomorrow night for Rita's graduation. Greg has been working for Helen all morning, and Mom wants him for some reason, and he comes over at 2, after we had lunch (Oh, yes, on Friday I re-fixed the plug in the waffle iron: Grandma has patented the secret of wiring a plug so that there's a huge harmless spark that blackens the outlet when it's first plugged in), and his face has changed somehow, and he's a young man, and not a boy anymore, though he still has a skin problem. Maybe the 6'3" of height adds to the effect of manhood. He wants me to see his dune buggy, so I wisely don boots and my duffle coat for the afternoon, and we drive out in his truck. The black dog hates my guts, and barks continuously whenever I'm in sight. Greg gets the machine started, and we take off with a roar over the back paths which surround both sides of the road. It's exhilarating and chilling, and quickly we bounce through an enormous puddle that sprays the windshield, the open area at the side of the car, including my face, coat, gloves, and chest. Nothing is said about it. Down to the road construction, then across Sourek to the other side, looking in on their fort on the crest of the hill, and finally back home, chilled through, ready for some of Helen's bread toasted. Marion comes home from her auction, showing off her two purchases, and Henry comes next, moaning about her not buying the table she wanted, giving me some delicious Widmer's Lake Niagara wine, and then it's dark and Marion drives me home, sitting at the curb for forty minutes talking about her dislike for the changes in the Catholic liturgy, people in the family, my writing the book, and other things, which gets Mom mad since I'm late for dinner. Eat and watch TV, then out comes the Scrabble game and again we play Swick and Oh Hell, ending with fatigue about 1 am, but the family is nice together, if only Mom weren't so eternally impatient, niggling, bitchy, complaining, and fault-finding. But maybe if it weren't for that, she wouldn't have anything to talk about. Rita seems to tolerate all of it: she just ignored it.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 15. Up early at 9 because I have to wash my hair, and we pick Grandma up for mass at 11 at St. Vincent's. Back home to eat and drive Rita to school at 1, leaving her off at the door in the high winds, and back to pick up Mom, who forgets her earrings, and we're back for the prolonged services at 3. The talks are dulling, and I'm sure very few of the graduates appreciate all the lecturing and the news that "school goes on forever." See Helen in the procession, and at the end Mom waves across to Jimmy, so we all take off across the blustery campus toward the Student Center. Helen joins us on the way, and we sit around the lobby, going into the hall just as Rita joins us. There's tea and cakes, and I get over to talk to Doc Sumner, looking determinedly drunk and chatty, though we have little to say except that I like New York, and he never sees Larry Ball. Also talk to Dr. Selby, but again the talk is forced and awkward, so everyone's glad when we leave about 6. Home to the reception with grandma, Mom and me and Rita, Henry and Marion and Greg and Gary, Helen and Jimmy and James Edward, and Mr. and Mrs. Crosby, a nice party of 13 clustering around the tremendous cardboard filled with seven or eight kinds of cold cuts, pickles and olives and other condiments, and potato salad. Much of the conversation was rather strained, but James Edward made a very nice impression by taking up with Marion and being nice to Greg and Gary. Rita broke down into tears again when she discovered the $3000 check, and the group talked about nothing much after that. Slowly the group dwindled until there was no one there but us by about 11, and we watched TV for awhile and went to bed about 12.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 16. Woke at 10, and set the timer for meditation, which Rita wisely understood when Mom phoned at that time, and said that I was "out," which of course Mom wouldn't have understood. I'm bored enough to want to read something, so I finish Watt's "Wisdom of Insecurity" by lunch at 2, and then Rita calls Dayton to arrange for our visit there the following two days. Mom said she wanted me to meet the people at work, so I drove up to Wallhaven about 3:30 and she introduced me to the colored girl who works with her, and we went across the hall to Evelyn Thornton and Delores and two other squealing girls, then down to the computer room for a lively Millie and two keypunchers, then I coaxed Mom to come across the street with me to meet the other girls over there, starting with the basement, quickly going through the main floor, where everyone was preparing for the convention somewhere else, and then to the second floor where there was a girl who had worked for IBM in Yorktown and lived in New York, so we had a lot to talk about, and then we found Mrs. McClurg and had a lively conversation, as she was coincidentally writing out the Christmas card from the company that Mom was supposed to get. Back across about 5, and she took two more sets of the outmoded stationery, now that President Mitchell had died. Home to dinner, and I joined them in watching "Laugh-in" and finally persuaded Mom to join Rita and me at Summit Mall for "Great Catherine" with the great cast of Moreau, O'Toole, Mostel, and Hawkins, but Mom didn't like it at all, while Rita and I found it amusing in spots. The theater was almost completely empty, which made it rather grim. Home by 12, and quickly to bed. One of the nights I was so desperate for some sort of release, made difficult by people around all the time, that I came into my hand and licked it off so that the smell wouldn't permeate the house.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 17. Up at 10 to meditate again, but don't get around to exercising, and in fact never exercise in Akron for the rest of the trip. By noon we're ready to leave for Dayton, and looking at the maps of Columbus as we pass through, with Rita driving for an hour or so, I see the sign for the Art Museum and decide we really don't have to get down to Dayton before dark, and why not stop in Columbus and see what they have at the museum. But there aren't any street names in proper places on the map, so we get off at what looks like the right exit, but we find ourselves in the middle of the colored district, and no matter how we turn and change direction, we can't seem to shake Shadesville. To add to the difficulty, we're getting very hungry, and can't find any place to eat. Debate getting back onto the Freeway and leaving town, but as we near the next entrance, it seems like a terrible waste of time if we don't see ANYTHING, so we stop, finally at 3, to eat lunch and I check the Yellow Pages for Museums, and they don't list an art museum, but there is a Museum of Science and Industry near where the dot may have been on the map, so we set out for that. It takes us awhile to find it, but there it is, and we get in at 3:45 when it closes at 4:30, this after paying 50 for parking already. Nice nationalistic Christmas tree exhibit, and the old-time street is fun, but the rest is scientific stuff on ears and heart and exercise and birth and nutrition and teeth, and the lower floor is full of industrial things about the gas, plastic, fuel, lighting, underwater plundering, etc, stuff, so we're ready to leave by closing time, the girl even letting me shout for Rita over the public address system. Get lost again leaving town and have to retrace much of Main Street, but finally get on the right road as dusk falls. The driving isn't difficult, but the road through Xenia isn't very straight, so we rise and fall with the hills and get to Edwards just a little after 7, after having to retrace part of the Dayton route because the road sign was missing. Ann has to leave immediately for David's cub scout party, so the three of us eat dinner alone, good pork chops smothered in goodies like raisons and mushrooms, and we're talking all the time. Ann gets back and we talk about the results of LSD in my life, the Nude Marathon especially turns her on, and we talk on into the night and morning about my adventures with Esalen and Aureon-type encounter groups. There's a bit of self-analyzing going on during these talks, and Ann just seems like a thoroughly nice person. By the time one o'clock rolls around I'm tired, fearing to keep them up too, so I go to bed, and they quickly follow. There aren't any shades on the windows in my downstairs room, so I'm gratified in the morning when it's sleeting, and there's no sun to be seen in the sky to wake me up before 9.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 18. Edward's still around, busily making breakfast, and the phone takes Ann for the next hour as the meal is cooked and eaten. Again we settle down to talking about Christmas and New York and the families and various travels and adventures, and finally at noon we decide we really must leave. Again the Ohio roadmap steers us wrong, as we can't find the place where we should have left the highway to get to Piatt Castle. We go way out of our way, the fog starts to close in, and at about 1:30 we pull up in front of one of the castles to see the owner on his way out: it's been five years since he's had a vacation, and he's leaving, and we can't see anything, though we're free to walk around outside. We do that, and take off to the next castle, but that's closed for the winter, even though it's bigger, and we're off to Ohio Caverns. We're the only ones on the tour, and Rita feels free to say that she's scared silly to enter her first caverns, so the man goes nice and slow, making jokes about the lighting and the water and the depth in the ground, and when she gets into it she feels better. I tell him I've been to Carlsbad, Mammoth, and Wind Cave, and he starts being more literal in his descriptions of his own cave. But he has nothing to worry about in the area of comparisons: the huge white carrot of the Crystal King, the intense colors of Fairyland, the lush growth of fern up to three inches long almost waving about the lights, the living wetness of the cave, all these were almost unique in my cave experience, and I told him that. The $2 admission charge per person seemed steep at first, but we were alone, had his constant attention and services, and we were beneath the ground for over an hour and a quarter, getting a ride back through the now blanketing fog from the top exit down to the car. Ask about eating, and he says "Best place around is LeEdJo's, or something like that, in East Liberty, so we're back there to a fancy hamburger stand, eating lunch between 4 and 4:30. The fog doesn't clear and the ride back is creepy with the rain and the snow falling on the almost invisible highway. I got impatient and drove about 75 down the center, following the center line, confident that I could follow the turns of the road, and could detect lights of any cars ahead with enough time to react safely. Home at 8 to a worried Mom, and we eat separately, describing our respective days, and I call Anita, who's uncooperative, Milton, who doesn't seem to be able to help me, and Larry, who invites me out the following evening, and the Seavers, who fall over themselves with gladness to hear my voice, and ask me out for Friday. Talk more with Mom and Rita and to bed at 11.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 19. Up at 9:30 to meditate and have breakfast, and fill out Christmas Cards from snowy Ohio from 11-1. Rita's back from shopping with Grandma to say that she wants me to come over, so after lunch I get to Grandma's at 3:45, hopefully after her TV serials, and we chat about old photo albums and her children, and Helen and Dixie interrupt two or three times and I have to see the Arnett's 15 year old Christmas tree and refuse an invitation to dinner. Home to dinner at 6 with some of the cookies Grandma just baked and decorated, wash my hair and read the papers and leave for the Ball residence at 8:30. He arrives in a two car caravan at 9:15, I talk for a bit to his parents, then up to his room for hours of talking about his fish, and he hasn't ANYTHING to talk about, and I don't feel particularly interested in repeating my conversation with Edward and Ann with him, so we chat about mutual friends and he asks me to get in touch with him the start of May, so we might have a vacation together again. I'm bored finally by 12, leave for home, getting to bed, quite tired, by 12:45.
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20. Up at 10 and finish breakfast by 11:30 and know that I have to buy the kids gifts, so I get a clay fun factory for the girl and a set of building blocks for the boy at Click, and get up to Elyria by 1, greeted by a poster on the front window and John the college student, who takes up the conversation about his girl for the first hour, then he leaves, we have lunch, Craig gets home from school, and the fun of exchanging Xmas gifts begins, they giving me a stocking packed with sundries: a packet of pencils for my writing, a red Bic pen, a pair of brown shoelaces I assure them I can use, bottles of her produce: catsup, grape jelly, and strawberry preserves, a Philistine publication from 1908, an orange plastic twirling game with pennies, a spray bottle of Hai Karate, the top of their tree (which I end up leaving in Akron), a bell for luck, a package of orange Life Savers which I brilliantly share, and when I leave they push on me a tin of cake and candy and fudge. Nancy is silent and loving, but Craig is a problem with his alternate charm and broken-hearted sobbing over nothing. The baby is obediently silent most of the time, except during the lavish dinner when he had to be held by Janet through the meal, when Nancy and Craig whitened their roast beef (at 39 a pound) with garlic salt. Talk of Christ, the girl in Yale, the possibility of a fourth child, my life in New York, the nude workshop, Bob's teaching and church duties, Janet's enthusiasms for buying sweaters and skirts for 10 and making them into clothes for the children. We play with the twirling toy, the blocks, their pool table and darts in the basement, and I tour the house with the children's rooms, then there's the Christmas pageant, including donations, before the kids go to bed, and they do so surprisingly docilely, only returning for long kisses and hugs and passionate gazes into their eyes. I'd said I had a date in Cleveland at 10, hoping both for an escape clause and for the feeling of going to Jack's which Milton so kindly told me about that morning. But at 9:45 I'm just exhausted, so I leave and drive back home, regretting not seeing the Cleveland bars, but looking forward to investigating the Akron ones tomorrow with Milton. Home by 11 and discuss the evening with the folks, and fall into bed.
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21. Up late and Mom insists that I go Christmas shopping with her. Rita's suggestion of Akron store gift certificates had me convinced but then Mom's talk led me to make up my own shopping list, giving Rita $20 there at the table for records she wanted, and Mom said she definitely wanted dishes. Get to the Summit Mall and I see a great lionhead chain and tell her to buy it for Rita to give to me, and I buy a candy bowl for Helen and Jimmy, shoes and a scarf for Dad, and a bird and cage and all the accessories for Grandma, again thanks to the brilliant idea of Rita. Home by 4, and get dressed for dinner at Anthe's with Marion and Henry and Gary and Mom and Rita, and the filet mignon is truly superb for $6.50, and the décor is New York unoriginal Christmas cheer, and the "Happy Birthday" lady is truly incredible with her clarion dirge of sung insipidity. Cover up my tracks by saying that I'm going over to Milton's at Brittain Woods Circle, and leave at 10 for the Robin Hood, the worst of the three Akron bars, and it's pretty bad, indeed. There are four or five people at the bar, one a roaring drunk who keeps trying to talk with me, but I ignore him, except when he uses his voice-throwing powers to make conversation with the jukebox. Down the bar is a bearded blond of sultry good looks, and the white sweatered guy behind the bar is lovely and crew-cut and soft-eyed. Milton comes in, identified only when the bartender says "Hello, Milton," so I wave at him and we laugh that I hadn't thought to tell him I'd shaved my beard. He describes the bar situation at greater length, and berates Joan for not telling him I was gay, and at 10:30 we leave in his car for Mother's, and he erases the white sweater
Pages 115-126 missing, to be found in SEX!
his stepmother was going to have quite a bit to say about his coming in so late. I figured Mom would be mad, too, and I had the Sunday dinner to look forward to. We decided that Rick would try to get out and get to Bob's by 9, and if it was OK, he would call me at home, and I would try to get out.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22. Finally we left the house at 8:30, and I drove home in a sort of numb funk, liking the guy enormously for the bed-fun, but not really caring for it to go further than that, though, as I kept telling myself, "He's just like everyone else in that he wants love, and he's just as deserving of it as anyone else is." Home to an angry Mom, and I say the party was over at 4 and I slept from then to 8, hardly caring if she believed me or not. Tried to lay down on the sofa, but it was awfully uncomfortable, so I undressed and crawled into bed about 9 am, knowing that everyone was going to 12:15 mass, and that I certainly had to take a shower. Woke at 11:50, realizing that Mom was perfectly capable of letting me do what I wanted, then making the rest of the day miserable for me. I got up, took a very quick shower, dressed and got the car ready even before she was ready to go, which made her feel like all her arguments had been removed. Went to Grandma's right after church, and the dinner was great, though Mom insisted on alienating everyone by remarking that the beans were cold when everyone else was intent on praising what was good about the meal. Finished about three in time to watch the live TV coverage from the moon, and talked about the bird and school and sundry other things until 5, when I got too tired to keep up the semblance of conversation and begged off to go home. Home to again switch into pajamas and crawl into bed, and I slept until about 8, when I was up to watch something on TV, and sure enough Rick called at 9, and I was dressed and ready to go, turning off the wrong exit, or rather turning back onto the wrong entrance to I-77, and getting back to the former exit and returning to take the correct turnoff, getting there about 10 pm, telling them about the terrible wreck on the highway. We got into bed again, and I don't think I was up for one moment, and it turned into a fiasco of conversation and worry and fatigue until thankfully Rick said that Bob wanted to go into the Mustang in Canton that evening, so we dressed and left the house about midnight, I driving to give Bob the kick of going somewhere without driving his own car. The Mustang was a barn-like place out in the open, with again three or four ugly drag queens with beautiful boys as dates, and the same sort of crowd as Mothers. Bob and Nick knew a lot of the people, and there were assorted scenes of no real import, but Bob and I danced somewhat nicely, except that he was much too big and bear-like, and Rick and I still danced dreamily together. Left at 2:30, and back to Bob's where Rick made the big farewell speech, saying that he was never going to see me again, that he was sorry to leave, and then not leaving. It turned into a hideous comedy of effortful errors, and finally Bob and I got him down on the bed, got his pants off, and I did him again while Bob kissed him to death, and then he was ready to leave after exchanging addresses. Bob and I went back to bed very self-consciously, and I did see that his cock was big, but finally I knew I wasn't going to be able to do anything, and I said I really had to go, which I did about 5, making sure I had everyone's address, and got into the car ABSOLUTELY NUMB and drove back home at about 5:30.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 23. Sleep until 12:15, and am surprised to see that Mom's not stayed home from work, but she says she's going to go in tomorrow to the party, and has to get her hair fixed today. Very tired from the last few days, but I eat something huge like two eggs and two slices of cut up bologna and two slices of muenster cheese for a goopy breakfast, and wash it down with a couple of sugared donuts. But then yesterday I only had one meal and quite a few drinks last night, so it's no wonder I feel a bit strangely. Know that I have to get to Dad's soon, so I wrap his present in tissue paper and take Rita's maps along to see how to get out to East Avenue. It's snowing again, and I park in front of the house and ring the bell. Mama answers, not recognizing me, but I shout in "Hello, Grandma," and she opens the door so I can kiss her. She goes into the sun porch, but comes out with a worried look on her face and says she's going upstairs to see if "Ed-you" is awake, and she talked to him in Polish, and I hear "Bobby," and Dad's voice, and then she says I can go up. Dad's lying in bed, looking pink colored in the face, but when he sits up his neck and chest skin is a sallow yellow color, hanging off in wrinkles, and though his body is heavy, he doesn't have a healthy look. He has phlebitis, but he says he can't stand being in bed: in Harrisburg, or somewhere, he was in bed for seven weeks, got better, could walk, but then had a relapse and stayed in an Akron hospital for four weeks, but he couldn't take that, so he walked around every day. His dad, he said, was even worse: just returned from the hospital: his liver and kidneys are no good, and his ulcers are causing him enormous pain, but his diabetes causes such a high blood sugar level that they couldn't operate, so he wanted to come home. A few weeks ago Dad got $350 from some sort of disability award from the Veteran's Administration, and he gave $250 in back rent to his Mom, and his Dad was so amazed that he even talked to him: "Ed-you, Tata wants to see you." And then again last week this happened, and the old man sat and talked to him about Poland and the old days with tears running down his cheeks. Dad left then to see if I could see his father, but he came back to say he was too sick, his jaw was hanging and he was saying "Bwa-bwa-bwa" and drooling. The slippers didn't fit, so I went to Miracle Mart, which didn't have any, then to Lucky Shoes, and took them out Hawkins, which connected so many places: St. Sebastian's, Delia where Larry lived, Copley where Grandma lived, Wooster-Hawkins where Diagonal goes now, and the Zolnierzak's. These still didn't fit, but Dad, with a rheumy voice, said "Don't worry about it." So I didn't. Give him candy for Grandma. He told me about his TV set fiasco, so I went to the East Avenue Tavern to talk to Harriet, who was nice, but Bill Longfellow was nowhere to be found. Home by 6 to dinner, and try Joan and Anita and Milt and Grandma for "Doctor Doolittle," but they all say NO. Sue comes with three gifts to Rita and stamps for me, I see the show, with LOUD audience, and back to bed at 12.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24. Mom's really sick in bed with a cold from having the car stop on her last night, and Rita and I get out to buy the toboggan for Greg and Gary. Call Marion to ask if it's OK, and can we bring it, and she says Yes and No, respectively, but we can't get it into our car, so we have to call her back and she comes with the Chrysler and it just fits, and get into her driveway as Gary's driving out in his tractor and his jaw drops and his eyes widen and he beams at us as we follow the car down the driveway. Henry's just in, too, and he laughs "What's dat?" and we're all in for some wine and some tea and look at her fantastic handmade tree decorations, and she'd going to give me a wreath, and she shows me the box she's been working on for me for two Christmases by now, and we get back to Click so Rita can go grocery shopping, and we're home and eating early so we can get off to catch maybe the end of the penultimate show of "Yellow Submarine," the last show of which starts at 7:15 on Christmas Eve. We see all the shorts and a great cartoon by the Beatles, and I'm home to find that Joan called from Maris Doll's and wants me to go to their party. I watch the moon telecast at 9:30, and leave at 10 to get there, in the driving snow, at 10:30, and we get chased out at 11:30. The party is deadly dull, everyone talking about Marxist, Leninist, Trotskyian anarchy, and the school problems, and Joan and Freddie and I talk about Milton and their acting careers. Home at 12.
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25. Wake up at 9 because I have to wash my hair, and Mom and Rita argue about how and who's going to fix the dinner which is to be served while Mom is in bed. We get Grandma for Mass at 11, and home for a bit after dropping Grandma off to change dresses, and we take Helen and Jimmy's stuff over and they love mine a bit more than I like my U of A glass that they got me. Grandma gives me an English Leather "Lime" bath set, and Rita has the chain with $17, which I say is for "Die Walkeure." Dinner is fine, even with Mom undercutting her own cooking, and the ham is lush, and Grandma fills me in on "The Doctors" and another serial that she's watched for years, and at 3:30 we're over to Marion's for another exchange, and I get, of all things, a wood-and-marble tic-tac-toe set and Marion's wreath and the sick Johnson's are there, too, so there's all sorts of conversation, and I decide to leave about 8 so that I can get to Joan's. Call and find that Anita will probably be there, too, and get there about 9:30, and immediately I arrive Mrs. Sumner suggests a table-tipping, so we try it, and the only coincidence is that as Corky (or someone) is asked for, the telephone rings and it's Corky's wife and family calling from St. Louis. Anita arrives and is being very snotty about everything, especially putting down Milton for his phoniness with the women of the town in his put-on séances, though she says, he's good at "reading," which is the receiving and interpretation of vibrations from possessed objects, which is pretty good to start with. Joan has a cold, and Mom has one, so I hope I can get out of Akron germ-free. We talk until 11:30, and there's nothing much to talk about, except the three women jabbering about how terrible the male situation is. Joan tried to get me to say something good about her to Dick Balin, but I refuse, and she's coming back to New York about January 3. Leave there and take Anita home, and am stopped by a cop who says I went through a stop sign. I play it cool and he lets me off with a warning. Back home at 12:45 and spend some little time packing, preparing for the next day's trip, and get to bed about 1:30, setting the alarm for 7 am, and thankfully, I fall asleep.
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26. Up before 7 and put last things together, eating breakfast, but the car doesn't start. Said hello to Dennis last night, and today I see the "older" fellow in back, and he's nicer than Dennis. He suggests the starter is bad, but I call two stations and he jumps the motor and it only has a dead battery, possibly when I left the lights on at "Yellow Submarine"? Leave at 7:45, and the traveling is easy, and I keep postponing lunch, and even risk leaving the Pennsylvania Turnpike with a card showing an average speed of 70 on the 65 limit. Stop for gas and the thing doesn't start again, and he charges the motor for no charge, and thankfully the turn signals work OK again, and the loose fan belt is what makes it not work, and what caused the squeaks. Decide to drive straight through without eating. (GOT to get cracking on this thing again, or I'll forget EVERYTHING.) Let's assume this page starts somewhere in the middle of Thursday, December 26. Into the apartment at 4:30 to see Joe's painting of the fellow that Pete admired so much beautifully framed and hanging on the entry wall. Utter surprise. Get everything in from the car and try to call Joe, but there's no response. Take the car back and get charged only the weekly rental and nothing else, getting a refund of over $50 from my deposit of $215. Walk back home by way of Avi's and Joe's, no answers, and CPW, which is bitterly cold. Decide not to get groceries and pick up pizza and the newspaper, which I read and eat, irrespectively, look at ALL MAIL, and Pete calls and we talk and I finally get in touch with Joe at 10:30, but he's in bed, working all day in the cold Door Store, so the talk is short. I watch a going-downhill "Journey to the Unknown" from 9:30-10:30, "Girl of my Dreams" with a good Zena Walker. Then get out all the pornography and come with the sheet deliciously, so deliciously that I'm still hot and come again when I get into bed about 12:30. Disgusted with that, but otherwise, things are fine and I'm glad to be back.