Letter From A Constant Reader
LETTER FROM A CONSTANT READeR
NEIL CUNNINGHAM
Thursday Sunday Dear Carol ; Well, I got your letter ¡ Yeah ! Man , boy gee, was I surprised, on account of I never got one of those before. A letter from a girl magazine editor. I never got one from a girl before either, come to think of it. I could hardly believe it. Yeah. Well, anyway, I surely liked it and I wish you'd write me another one, cause I already lost that one. That's one reason why I cant hardly believe it. So, how the heck are you? Good? Good. Me, I'm real lousy.
I'm awful worried. I got so much on my mind that I cant even remember it all. One thing I'm mainly very worried about is : The Present Whereabouts Of My No. 1 (Racing) Machine. Yes, yes. Very worried.
You remember I told you about my buddy, Buddy Whistler and my ■o-1-é-lady ex-old lady, Marian, taking off on old No. 1? Yeah, well I finally heard from them. Such as it was. Buddy sent me a collect wire from Sacramento that said:
MARLAN MISSING. VANISHED OFF BUDDY SEAT BETWEEN MODESTO AND MERCED. SUSPECT FOUL PLAY. ORGANIZING SMALL POSSE. ME. WIRE FIFTY FOR EXPENSES AND BRIBES. WISH YOU WERE HERE.
BUDDY
How do you like that, for a smarttass telegram? Not one damn word about my motorcycle, either. Like they say though, no news is good, right? Right.
Say, what do you suppose happened to Marian?
Anyway, I wired Buddy the cash and asked him to call me and let me know if everything is all right. I kinda wish I hadn't done that, though, cause I still dont have a phone.
You know something? I got half a mind to go up there and see what those rascals are up to. Yeah. Half a mind. Only thing is they wont be there when I show up. They never are. Besides, I feel so lousy that I couldn't go anyway, even if I, like, wanted to. Which I dont. No, no indeedy. At least I dont think I do. Aw, nuts.
I've just decided to deliberately not worry about that little item anymore. After all, I got to pay some attention to some of my more up-to-date cares, right? Like my health. What could be more important than worrying about that?
Say, Carol, did you notice that I told you that I wasn't feeling so good? Well I bet you thought that I was going to say that I'd had another accident, didn't you? Well sir, the reason why I'm feeling so bad is because I caught this terrible cold the other night. Yeah. Sure did.
I gotta admit though, I probably wouldn't have caught cold if I hadn't laid out there in that ditch so long. Under the bike. In the rain.
Excuse me while I go steam my head.
Monday
Wednesday
Here I am back again. I wouldn't have taken so long, except I took my ulcer medicine twice by mistake, and it made me somewhat sick to my gut. I been a little absent-minded lately for some reason.
Aw, that aint right, what I said there. Hells bells, I been absent-minded for years, and I know the reason. Sure I do. Like,
I got a memory problem, Karen, and that's for sure. I forget things a lot. Yeah, An awful lot. Sometimes its pretty embarassing, too, so I tell fibs, kinda, about it. Like sometimes I say that it's because of an Old Football Injury. Yeah! (Doesn't that sound bitchen?) It isn't true though, because I only played football once and I hardly got hurt at all. (My Dad wouldn't let me play anymore after that, though, on account of I came home with all those cleat marks on my back. I wasn't too hot about that crazy game, anyway.)
No, the real reason for my memory problem is ..................
..........oh yeah, its my head, which got injured in Normandy during
World War One. Make that World War Two. I dont like to talk about it very much unless I'm with somebody I know real well, because it just isn't right to tell strangers about how you are a bigtime war hero. That's one of my Silver Rules. Besides, they really look at you weird when you do.
Anyway, 111 lay my fascinating war experiences on you sometime when you know me better, okay? Just let me know.
Carol, you'll have to excuse me, I got to go to the doctor. I'm two days late, already.
Later
You know, I was thinking about my head and doctors and like that on the way back from the medical building, and you know what? I ran into the side of a bus. (I'm just kidding, Carole.) No kidding though, every time I get examined by a new doctor he starts blaming everything on my motorcycle riding. Boy, that make me mad! They sure shut up when I.tell them about my war injury and 100% disability, and like that. Yes, yes. They know better than to mess around with those Federal Physicians.
Anyway, I dont pay too much att ention to all those damn medical men, Carol, on account of they are all so unreasonable about motorcycles and racing and everything. You knew that, didn't you? They got race prejudice, like. 0f course, just about the whole damn world is down on motorcycles , so I dont really pay attention to hardly anybody, except Buddy, and Marian when she's around, and Cycle World, and other cycle riders .... except actors.
Also, I dont always pay attention to Buddy, on account of he tends to lie somewhat, sometimes. Yeah, man. Most of the time, like. As a matter of fact BUDDY WHISTLER IS A NO-GOOD DIRTY CYCLE-ROBBING, SAFE RIDING, OVER-DRESSED, BAD-ACTING BUM. AND HE CHEATS AT SCRAMBLES.
I'm back again, Caroll. Yeah, I had to get a mop and clean up all that coffee I spilled when I lost my temper up there. I bet you noticed about my violent temper. I hardly ever lose it except when I cant help it, or when a dog bites me. (I could have crossed it out, but that would have been dishonest, like. Check? Check.)
Like I was saying before I lost my «4»4 head..............
I forget what I was saying before then. Oh yeah, I remember. I was going to tell you about my Dad. Like, he was a doctor too, until he died. He sure didn't like motorcycles, either. He used to say that motorcycles were invented by the Devil during an attack of dyspepsia. (That's a disease something like hemorrhoids, Carol.) I sure miss him. Yeah. A lot.
So, how have you been anyway, Carole?
Oh yeah. I got to tell you about the night I caught this here terrible cold. What happened was, I was riding along some dark streets on my No. 2 (everyday) machine, coming home from someplace
where I'd been, and I was real tired from ................ I dont
remember from what, but I was like, beat. Anyway, there I was, riding along, dozing off somewhat, when BLAM !.......this big bull
thunderclap came down right beside me. Damn if I didn’t make a sharp right, smack into a scrubby pine.
(Those guys who say "always turn left" sure know what they're doing.)
Anyway, to make a short story, the bike is bombed up a little but it still runs okay, so long as I dont lean forward. It could have been a lot worse, right? Right. All the same, though, it kind of burns me up, how stuff like that lousy thunder is always happening to me. Of course I cant blame the thunder completely. I do have this little fault in my riding style. Yeah. I'm too jumpy, is what it is. Double jumpy. I just cant stand to be startled. Everytime something weird happens, like, for instance, a nearby explosion, I do the same thing. Close by eyes, grit my teeth, squeeze the throttle and then..........WHAMP ! Ditch time.
I just decided. From now on, I am really going to make an effort to correct that there little old tendency. Yes, yes.
Well, old No. 1 Favorite (that's you, Carol), I better draw this here fan letter to a close right away, on account of my hand is starting to hurt pretty good. See, what happened was, the lousy doorbell rang, and I stuck my T-ball Jotter (blue) into my thumb.
It still writes good though. Them Parker people make a tough pen, all right. You better believe it.
Dont forget to write me another letter soon, cause I sure like to show them around, like. You know. Only thing is, I lost the first one before I could show it to anybody but me and my doctor, and he doesn't like you worth a damn.
Well so long for now, and dont forget that I'm still:
Your No. 1 Devoted Fan, Blackie
