TheBanyanTree: Phiroze writes back and so do I

[Tobie Shapiro]

September 5, 2000000006



Dear Wise Skies,

	After sending off my letters to India I never expect a 
response.  Phiroze types with two fingers and has often said that 
he's awed by the sheer volume of my posts.  He warned me that he 
could write only briefly, but as often as he could.  Then after my 
last letter about, "What Meyshe Said," Phiroze wrote back immediately 
to tell me that Meyshe had some wisdom in him.  He also said  that 
when I insinuated Phiroze would send me a sarcastic answer if I asked 
him what he thought love was, I was selling him short.  From what he 
said about his job in Bombay, I inferred that he was winding up his 
employment in India:  "I feel sort of like Agassi as he plays his 
last open".  So, in spite of the fact that I might be subjecting him 
to awe of my sheer volume, I wrote back.  And this is what I said:

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%


September 4, 20000000006


Dear Phiroze,

	Your letter couldn't have come at a better time.  I've been 
feeling lonely here, going through all this by myself and while 
putting up a strong front for the kids.  Just being able to read a 
message from the outside world, from another living, thinking, 
breathing, feeling human being was a shot in the arm.  Thank you.

	I've decided not to take Feyna and Meyshe with me when I go 
inspect rental units.  It's too depressing for them.  It's depressing 
enough for me.  I walk into these unkempt, disjointed, musty, greasy, 
chopped up houses in bad neighborhoods, with dismal kitchens and tiny 
bedrooms, plastered over doorways, sometimes broken windows patched 
with masking tape.  There's always some major room missing, like no 
living room, or no dining room, or neither, or only one small 
decrepit bathroom.  And for this, they will be asking upwards of 
$3,000 a month.  Sometimes when they say they want a security 
deposit, I have to wonder what for, or a cleaning deposit: they 
should clean the place first, then maybe they're entitled.

	So I'm going to go to these places without Meyshe and Feyna. 
They've only been to a few of the places so far, when the schedule 
was more convenient to have them with me.  And the effect on them is 
palpable.  Feyna tucks her head down and says things like, "We'll 
never find a place."  They both try to make me feel better by saying 
that the place wasn't so bad, but I know how they really feel.  I can 
tell in the way they walk through the place, making faces or 
recoiling at the sight of a new room.  The way they stiffen.

	Villainman sent a list of things he wants to take of communal 
property, and he included the piano, the piano that he refused to 
play because he didn't like the action.  He never liked that piano. 
Complained that I forced him into buying it.  I remember the 
interaction.  I said, "Oh please.  I love it."  And he said, "Okay." 
See how I twisted his arm!  Threatened him, forced him to submit to 
my childish petulant whims.  He'd go over to my mother's house to 
play his ditties on her piano to avoid the beautiful one in our 
living room.  And a musician?  You could put a page of sheet music in 
front of him and he wouldn't be able to read it.  So he says he wants 
the piano.  He probably intends to sell it for the bucks.  And this 
would deprive his children who both play string instruments of a 
piano, and his daughter who composes at the piano.  I won't say 
anything about the ex wife who composes at the piano.  We're the 
musicians and he says he wants the piano.  Piggish.  Unfeeling. 
Greedy.  He also stated that he wanted things like: two rosewood 
chairs, pair of snake lamps.  There are two of these, why shouldn't 
we split them?  Why ask for both?  I read through the list and my 
hair tried to stand on end.  Reach for a Lorazepam.  Calm down.

	Do I have to fight over everything?  Can't anything be done 
in a peaceable cooperative manner?  Sometimes it seems to me that 
every corner of my life is some sort of battle, a life and death 
conflict.  I have to be strong for it all.  It takes a lot out of me 
having to be on guard at all times, the old eternal vigilance 
routine.  I learned how to do it while I was growing up with a crazy 
father, and unfortunately, it keeps coming in handy.  I'd love to be 
able to let go for a while, trust something or someone.  I think the 
only person I trust completely is Yvonne.  She taught me to trust.  I 
hadn't known such a thing existed until I met her when I was 14.  In 
return, I taught her to laugh, something she hadn't known existed 
until she met me at 15.

	There are bound to be a lot of things that happen in the next 
month or so.  As soon as we find a place to rent, then we'll be busy 
moving.  The monumental task hurls me against a conceptual wall. 
I'll have to wrap my head carefully so it doesn't explode.

	You said in your letter that you felt like  Agassi (and I 
assume this is a sports figure, probably tennis or golf) playing his 
last open.  Are you winding up at your job?  Is this your last stint? 
What will you do after that?

	It's getting on to 11:00 in the morning here.  Time to think 
about feeding Meyshe some lunch.  This means mixing the tuna/salmon 
combination for fish salad and making a downright healthy sandwich, 
except for the mercury, but what are you gonna do.  Pretty soon we'll 
be able to take our temperatures by watching the mercury rise and 
fall in our veins.   And won't that be a splendid sight!  Splendid.

	Write when you can.  Tell me what you think love is.  See? 
I'm not selling you short.

	Love,

	whatever that is,

	Tobie
-- 




Tobie Helene Shapiro
Berkeley, California   USA

tobie at shpilchas.net