LITMIR.BIZ

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more than an hour straight for ten years. I can focus, stay on top of things. Others can’t hold a job, in and out of the hospital, on the street. At the dedication I talked with probably a dozen guys in really bad shape. I shuddered... whatever’s going on, I am really blessed. I thought of my children and a warm glow settled over me, but before long Diane’s rebuke came rushing back. What a disappointment she is. Something else too. In the dream I had both legs, strong and healthy. And I was really hauling, trying to outrun that monster. I puzzled over this. Whenever I have a good dream, about the kids, my job, my friends, Mr. Stumpy is there. But in the nightmares my legs are sound as they ever were. Am I re-enacting my rush down that hill? If I ever saw a shrink he’d have a field day with that one.

      AFTER 60 MINUTES I was asked a lot more for autographs and found myself beset by another by-product of exposure, fan mail. I received perhaps fifty letters the month after the show, then thankfully they dried up. This was not ordinary mail – almost all of it from women, many of them perfumed and personal. Whenever our grinning mail boy dropped one on my desk I would take a quick peek then toss it. One Saturday Diane brought in the mail, holding up one of those envelopes. Lavender, the color and I surmised, the scent. How it found me at home, I hadn’t a clue.

      “And what might this be?” she asked, waving the envelope.

      “My fan club.” I had mentioned the letters in passing.

      “I see. May I read it?”

      “Be my guest. That’s more than I do.”

      As she ripped it open something fell to the floor. After examining it Diane handed it to me. A picture of a fortyish woman in a bikini, leaning into the camera, her long blond hair falling around her. Most of the letters had pictures.

      “Meet Aimée,” Diane said, scanning the letter, “she’d certainly like to meet you. Well, what do you know? Do you know you have the sexiest eyes on television?”

      “Doesn’t surprise me.”

      “Aimée lives in Argenteuil. That’s not far. An hour train ride and you could make her a happy woman.”

      “Not worth the carfare. Wasn’t there a song about her?”

      Diane finished the letter. “Pathetic,” she said, throwing it on the sofa. “So you get lots of these, do you? Maybe we should get a bigger place so you can move your harem in.”

      “The kids wouldn’t understand.”

      “But I would, would I?”

      “I didn’t say that. You know, this is really a dumb conversation.”

      She nodded at the sofa. “Is that one of the benefits of being on TV, one of the perks?”

      “Will you cut it out! I told you I don’t even read them!”

      “I suppose you don’t look at the pictures either.”

      “That’s right!”

      “I wish I could believe you,” she said, turning and leaving the room.

      I put my fingertips to my eyes, massaging the headache that had just come on. A month to the day from that great night in New York, I thought – might as well be a lifetime.

      Unwelcome as this sort of attention was, in the weeks following the program I did hear from some old friends. Benny called to complain that they didn’t include him in the Berkeley segment.

      “They must have figured a little Berkeley goes a long way,” I said.

      Nathan had a more valid gripe. They had actually taped an interview with him, talking about our time in Vietnam, his non-injury that led to my real one, but they didn’t use it. “I am really pissed. My fifteen minutes of fame, right down the drain.”

      “Look at it this way, Nathan, you still have the full fifteen left.”

      “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

      Gus also called. I told him he came across well, looked very good. He said he must be a good actor, things were still pretty rough for him. “I’m probably going to retire in June. It’s no fun any more.”

      “What will you do?”

      “Oh, I have enough to get by. A couple of my books still sell and the University pension isn’t half bad. I’m thinking of moving back east.”

      “Where to?”

      “We’ve had a place in Maine in the family a long time. My grandfather’s brother had money, they used it summers but it’s just going to waste now. I can get it for a song if I want. It needs winterizing but I can handle that.”

      “Wouldn’t that be ironic? I leave, you arrive. You can always visit me here.”

      “Gay Paree, no thank you. For me the sun has set on that life. I just want to be quiet, read. I have more ideas for articles than I know what to do with.”

      “How will you survive without grad students?”

      “It’s a pretty sophisticated community, it’s near Bar Harbor. I’ll figure it out.”

      The call that really took the prize, however, was from Rudolph Latimer. Sure enough, the day following the program he called. After several handoffs, I finally got through. “What’s the big idea, doing a program with the competition?”

      What’s he talking about, competition? “I wasn’t aware we had anything going.”

      “You didn’t know LTN was running a special the day of the dedication?”

      I felt my neck getting warm. “How could I? Anyway, why would that have made a difference? You didn’t ask me to be part of it. CBS did. End of story.”

      “We didn’t call you?”

      “That is correct.”

      “Shit!” There was a pause. “This happens every time I get involved with you.” He harrumphed. “You did well. That’s what I called to say.”

      “Thanks.”

      “Just don’t let it happen again. You get a good idea, let me know first.”

      I shook my head. Enough of this. “Be seeing you, Rudolph.” I hung up. Who the hell does he think he is? I could never work for that guy.

      Two weeks later he called again. “It seems I need to congratulate you again.”

      “Hello, Rudolph. What have I done this time?”

      “No, no – I’m calling about the Cal game, their glorious victory over Stanford. I’m no fan of American football but that superb play deserves commendation. You saw it?”

      “The replay. French TV spending airtime on American football, it had to be special.”

      “For a moment I thought I was watching rugby, those laterals, the way they kept the ball in play. Spot on!”

      “Some of the Cal team play rugby too, I understand.”

      “And good ruggers they are, too. They even made a tour down our way some years back. Listen. I called for another reason as well. I want to apologize for my remarks the other day. You’re quite right, I have no claim on you, not yet at least.”

      “No problem. It’s over and done with.”

      “I wanted to clear the air. I admire what you’re doing and I have a feeling we’ll get together before too long.”

      I paused, looking for the right words. “That certainly would be interesting.”

      “Indeed. Well, keep up the good work.”

      Unbelievable, I thought. How many people get an apology from Rudolph Latimer?

      OUR ANNUAL JANUARY BUSINESS PREVIEW was coming up, and

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