Letter to Richard Benesevich

Dear Richard—   8/93

God what a fall, the fall, as it were; my woes serious enough to desire Prosac (I’ll elaborate later), lacking prosaic skills, I’m remiss in answering your wonderful letter, and you’re probably wondering if the reply got lost in the mail—one reason why I’m writing to you on the computer—I learned to make copies of everything in Russia. (My laptop computer blew up (as did my truck) this fall—the mother-board—it’s working by sheer luck at this point, as long as I don’t unplug it. When the batteries go, I have to find another laptop to recharge them). It’s lucky I even got your letter as it was glued to a completely frayed envelope, open on all four sides like two sheets to the wind! If you hadn’t reglued the flap, I’d have gotten what once was an envelope with some stamps on it—is this known as pushing the inside of the envelope out?

My dearest proletariat, I hope you’re surviving well, in spite of everything. Shall I send you a phone so you can wander around looking for a place to hot-wire it to? I was under the impression Poland was slipping off the sexy wrap of communism. . . Well, after Hungary, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised by Eastern European concepts of reform. All of the former Soviet Bloc is construed of paradoxes. Try Romania, Ukraine, Hungary, and the story’s always the same. Push the inside of that dox out and what’s left? An urge for Ken’s awful Hungarian pear brandy? So what’s the latest commerce in baksheesh besides bad puns? Anything you want from the states? Yes, I would like to hear from you, but, gulp, did you say collect? Hey, with some serious discounts, my Dutch phone bills still run about $50 a call! That’s a lotta zlotii. Hell, one of the reasons why I got this ATT single country plan discount was because you were in Leiden, and then you had to go and move!