Wednesday, December 13, 2006

10 April 1956
123 days to go

Dear Folks

I was just talking to Wheeler, who had gone to the bullfight yesterday—& I am very glad I didn’t go. How can anything be as horrible? The way he described it, it wasn’t a fight, but a massacre.
On second thought, I wish I had been there, sitting in the center of the ring with a large machine gun & several thousand rounds of ammunition. I would honestly enjoy nothing more than spraying that crowd with machine gun fire. They want to see blood? Fine—then let them see their own, damn them. They came to see suffering—I’d love to show them "But the bulls are only animals; wild & cruel." Well, what do you suppose those things sitting there cheering are?

No doubt Lloyd will drag me to one next Sunday, & I will undoubtedly become very ill. Maybe I can sneak a machine gun from the ship’s armory. Wouldn’t that be fun? Can’t you just see the looks on their faces? Ah, but there I go, daydreaming again—wishful thinking.

Sadistic little soul, aren’t I? Well, I’m only human….

I’d go on to more pleasant subjects, if there were any more pleasant subjects to go on to. Had a lousy night last night—woke up in the wee hours with one hell of a sore throat. My nose has been playing Niagara Falls all day.

At about 8:00 tonite I took my NavCad book up to show Lloyd. It is now 9:15. It was fun to talk about it again, & I didn’t feel at all bad—oh, a little nostalgia, perhaps—but it didn’t hurt.

Evidently there is to be no mail call tonite. Didn’t get any mail the last couple of mail calls—the last one I got said you’d received & seen the film; I hope you enjoyed them. The 8 feet of nothing comes from not taking the lens cover off. Did you get an idea of the size of the columns from the pictures/

No, mom, the kids weren’t Americans, I don’t think. I suppose kids are kids any place. Speaking of kids, how about—uh, no, that’s another film—or is it? Did I send the one with the two lambs butting their heads together? If so, how did it turn out?

The five pesetas enclosed in yesterday’s letter was done so as on afterthought—it’s worth about 10 cents.

Realize this is short, but I’ve got to take a shower & get to bed, to give my throat a chance to get really sore again. Till tomorrow




Ken Beemer said...

Ha! Dorien
I hadto laugh at that part about
wanting to slaughter the slaughterers. You and I seem to think (feel) alike on some things.
Your tender heartedness is part of what makes you so endearing, and subsequently your characters so loveable.

Dorien/Roger said...

Thanks, Ken. Now, if everyone who reads this blog would, as you have done, also read my books, I'd be a happy man.