Spring 2001 The Anthologist
Conversation
Yair Solan
Yes, I say to Nunnally from across the table, nodding my head. He goes on and on, there across the table with his glass of tea, which may be green tea for the color fits. Now I don't know much about tea but that tea is green and if that isn't green tea, well then, I don't know much about tea. By all rules, theorems, dogmas, etceteras of logic, that tea, being green, must be green tea, there is no other choice. That is all true; yet I believe there was a therefore missing somewhere in that statement. Nunnally keeps on talking but honestly I prefer thinking to listening, that's much more interesting and worthwhile to me. The thoughts I conjure up still carry some weight, I think. Nunnally's house though is curious in a way, now that I have the time to examine it. He keeps many books in his study, some about law it looks like. Other books I recognize, having read them when I was much younger, my boyhood years. Yes, those I remember somewhat hazily if at all. Nevertheless, Nunnally
proceeds to talk about nothing in particular, well perhaps he is talking about something in particular, I wouldn't know as I am not listening, yet I am nodding and that's more than the minimum, which would be nothing at all. I suppose he's talking about the past, maybe our years in Africa together, oh, who knows. They are
probably stories I've already heard, I fear that there are not many new ones left in old Nunnally these days. We used to do things once, Nunnally and I, yes things more strenuous than this, whatever this is. We were in the army together some years back, I can't believe it myself, not only that Nunnally was in the army, or that I was in the army, but that Nunnally and I were in the army together. We must have been there together, that's where we met. Well, now it seems that something is getting interesting, Nunnally's eyebrows are going faster than usual. He does that when he's excited, I do that, too, when I'm excited, everybody probably does that when they're excited. I'm giving him the impression that I'm listening intently though honestly I haven't listened intently for thirty-three years. I might as well be deaf, it would all be the same. But I am putting on an act.
I sip my tea every now and then and I look like I'm listening and I nod my head sometimes and I say yes or oh or hmm or ha when I sense that there was a joke or a quip made somewhere. Nunnally keeps on sipping his tea and talking and doing all that. He does have a large house and his books are kept it looks like in pristine condition, pristine mint condition. Not even a connoisseur, if I may say so, okay I'll say so, a connoisseur like myself, not even a connoisseur like myself keeps books in pristine mint condition like dear Nunnally does. He does have vast quantities of them though, books I mean, unlike myself. If I wasn't as highly paid as Nunnally was, I don't regret it now, for I don't read much anymore but I wouldn't mind it really you know. I probably wasn't as highly paid as Nunnally was, but just like him, I stopped working some years back. The story of my life, I do something then I stop. That is very
common, I think, it is the story of all our lives. One does something then one stops. We on Earth are all so similar yet there is racism thereabouts. That's one thing I can say about dear Nunnally, he's no racist, no, not a prejudiced bone in his body if that's any
consolation. I'm no racist myself, ask me what race Nunnally is and I will stare right back at you like an idiot. Maybe that's because I am an idiot. Oh, but what whimsicality there is in me! Nunnally is there spitting out word after word of drivel, pouring out his driveled heart, and here I am sifting through my thoughts, a much more interesting activity, yes, while he is spewing garbage not worth listening, I am inspecting my little gems. Yet getting back to the subject of Nunnally's racial or ethnic heritage: ask me what his is and I will stare right back at you in the manner of an idiot, it is guaranteed. There is no such thing as a free lunch, that's what the word guaranteed reminds me of, yes, oh perhaps I have not said that phrase right, maybe I messed it up. There is no such thing as a free lunch, maybe that's not correct, maybe it is supposed to be in this world, young man, there is nothing better than a free lunch. Maybe that's correct, I can't say. Maybe that other one is the correct phrase, I'm not sure. Still the phrase bothers me, the one that goes in this world, young man, there is nothing better than a free lunch. Or maybe it's there is nothing greater than a free lunch, I don't know, maybe I'm getting this from a movie I can still remember.
Maybe Nunnally has a movie around here somewhere, that would be nice, maybe when he's done talking he could put it on but I'm not promising that I'll watch.
Now, what is Nunnally saying presently, I wonder, oh, he isn't saying much of anything. Well, it seems that Nunnally has passed on just now, that's what it looks like, it is rather certain. He remains across the table and his tea is in the cup on the table and his body is on the chair next to the table. He must have died some time before, I'm not sure when but it may have been when I was talking about the phrase there is no such thing as a free lunch. I am still somewhat curious about that other phrase, which I am strangely drawn to, it can't be wrong if it is so attractive. Nevertheless, I could be wrong, neither may be correct for all I know. He may have died during that part, whenever it was it must have been painless if I was oblivious to it. Quite a way to go, I wouldn't mind going that way, too. It will soon be my turn I suspect; yet right now I am here. That is a strange feeling, yes, Nunnally being gone and me still being here. Yes, strange that he's now up there, or down there, or
everywhere, or nowhere, whatever I believe, and that I am still here for the moment, oh there I go again, becoming deeply profound and thoughtful, sometimes I resent myself for being so profound. Yet it is strange that he isn't here anymore. It is also strange that now his estate has to be taken care of, with so many books in pristine mint condition, if only I kept things like that. I did keep stamps very carefully once, it used to be a hobby until I ran out of regular stamps and decided to use the ones I collected for so long. They're just stamps, anyway not to use them would be counterproductive, it would embarrass them in some sort of metaphysical way, for the only reason they were put on this Earth was to be used to send letters or postcards, that's obvious. There I go being profound again; I hate it when I do that. Nunnally, it seems, is still dead across the table. His name, though, has a little more living to do, for the matter of his estate still needs to be taken care of. Things go on, life goes on, business goes on. But not dear Nunnally, no, he doesn't go on. What's this now, I notice that he suddenly has a strange hat on. I have just noticed it, what a phenomenon, to suddenly notice a piece of clothing on one who has just passed on.
It seemed like Nunnally came back to life for just a little bit and surprised me with that hat. I thought that the hat was strange at first but it isn't, it is a regular, common hat, the strange thing was that I did not notice it before. I never wear hats but I wear shoes that fit over my feet and socks that also fit over my feet, with my shoes ever strategically placed over my socks for a fine fit. When they fit perfectly I'm happy. I admit, I enjoy the simple things of life, I pride myself on that. Yes, clothing has always been somewhat of a necessity for me. So has food, which I do enjoy every now and then when it is cooked properly and when I eat it. There is much in this world, I suspect, that I would enjoy, but unfortunately I never get introduced to things appropriately. I suspect that I would like skiing if I was a younger man and if I liked skiing. I'm sure that if I ever went fishing I would like it, even if I did so these days. I have never went fishing, never in my life, I promise, scout's honor. I have never been a Boy Scout either. There are so many things that I might have liked in this world yet I doubt that I tried many. Who knows what I missed out on, I might have enjoyed milk past its prime if I wished to take a sip and ignore conventional moral behavior. That is the worth of conventional moral behavior. It looks like Nunnally still remains dead there, across the table. Some would say shoved off this mortal coil. I have not yet been shoved off this mortal coil but as silly as it may seem, this particular event is making me think about my own mortality. I was always very profound, but for some reason I have never thought much about my own mortality until recently. Nunnally, on the other hand, will never think about his own
mortality anymore! Oh, maybe that was in poor taste, but I would bet that Nunnally, if he were still around, wouldn't care. He is still around though, across the table, yet something is missing. His eyebrow wiggles and the various accessories I attribute to his life, yes, those are forever gone, unless of course he was cryogenically frozen; on the other hand, I don't know enough about this topic in order to make a proper assessment of whether he was cryogenically frozen or not, so it looks like I must let go of that theory, which is okay since I don't believe it anyway.
Nunnally won't look this good for long, I suspect, he won't be in such pristine mint condition for very long; hope he biodegrades as is. His house is very large, cavernous some would say, but I wouldn't. I am certain that cavernous houses would be very interesting and inviting, for it would remind humanity of its past, yes, another profound statement, very much characteristic of me. Oh, but in patting my own back for being so profound I have forgotten about my tea! Yes it is still there, not that hot but cold tea is good too, I admit, I am not very picky today. I had a very good day today, in retrospect. I got up, I had breakfast, I remember that well, pancakes, a specialty, I make them often because they taste good the way I make them. I took a walk today, around the park, I looked at the trees, the dogs, then I went around to buy some bread. After that vigorous workout, much recommended, I had a light lunch and some wine, yes, I have some wine every once in a while even though it is cheap wine. I get pleasure out of the little things, I admit, that is how I am. I sat on the porch and thought about the sun and when the rain came I thought about the rain. For dinner I went out to a cheap little place near me and after the good meal I noticed that Nunnally's home wasn't far away and I decided to go there and I visited him there briefly. Yes, that's what happened today, that's it. I know it's pretty typical, but that's what I like about today, in retrospect. I like retrospecting, too. Ah, but what's this painting, I've never seen it before, maybe that's because Nunnally was directly in front of it before and now that he has slouched over I can see it. It looks like something from my boyhood, I get that feeling from things sometimes. If I can discover a new painting in the house, well, that's a nice sign, there are so many things here to discover, oh, but it would take ages for me to find and inspect and think about all the things in the house, yes, that would require me to stay here with Nunnally for a while.
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