September 9, 1971 (Letter from Barb Lucia)

Howdy -- you fucker!  What in the hell are you doing????  Don't you know that living at the beach is all a fantasy -- life that's only good for a little while -- believe me I know and don't I know that's why I'm the dud I am now!  So hep me Nelson, if you do what I did I'll kill you!  I feel like it's my kid or something...really, "what are you going to do?" -- GIANT QUOTES around that question.  When I first heard you were in California I was home -- in Warren Pa 16365 -- I went home for a week -- my mother had an operation -- she has cancer and they had to remove her breast -- it was really heavy for them, so I had to go home for the week.  So I casually call up your house to see where you're living in Buffalo -- I'm there -- California??  Then Mardi tells me you're staying there.  Well, what can I say?  Paul -- how can you, of all people, quit school?  You are the original enjoyer of school --I've never known anyone to enjoy it and get more out of it than you do -- when I quit I knew it would be a wasted  year for me to go on, but for you I don't see it that way.  Anyway, maybe I'm worrying all for naught -- why don't you write and tell me -- I'll only be here on the island till Sunday, then back to Boston and home for a few weeks to help my mother out.  So write to me at home -- OK?

The summer here ended as suddenly as if someone shut it down for the season.   Labor Day was everyone's last day at work and boom -- everything closed and everyone went back to where they came from.  Now the roads are deserted and we are just wondering what to do with the days until we go.  It's like country time -- we have gone through changes in our house lately -- Woodstock II has arrived -- everyone wanting just a place to be and music to listen too -- our house is it.  I can't explain the latest hassles but I will when I see you.  Why in hell can't people get along -- even people that you like you can't get along with anymore.  People are such fucking assholes to each other -- our time here-- I mean on the island -- is so short -- why can't we be generous.  Shit.  Time anywhere is fucking short -- it always seems that it will last forever until all at once you're remembering it.  Mardi told me she was coming here and then I got a letter that she's not and guess why -- no $$$.  Now what the hell kind of fucking excuse is that but with Mardi and Bill it's true.  So I didn't answer to call -- so she called me last night and we talked about all this shit.  There were 10 million people here-- 5 million of whom no one in the house knew and I couldn't talk really freely on the phone -- it's so rare you get to talk freely now-a-days -- it used to be you did it very day of your life!  Everyone's grown up!  I'm also running out of paper -- what am I babbling about?  Hey, I got a letter from Joan today.  Her life is like a fucking soap opera -- she moved on on Freddy -- she said she got drunk and tried to kill him (?) -- but they're together now and all is well.  Did you get all that?  She is also going back to Clarion in January and the government is paying for it.  If that marriage makes it, it will be all Joan's doing -- I hope she can do it!  And Mardi and Bill are not making it together either -- God, the whole thing just sucks -- people are just determined to fuck everything up.  But Mardi's staying tho -- working and going to school at night again this year.  Where the hell does she have to go?  If I didn't go back to Boston where the hell would I go?  I was thinking today -- up on the top of the back field behind our house -- why can't we all be back where we were 2 or 3 years ago, only be what we are now -- just have our new selves there-- I had it all figured out anyway.  I went out in the field w/ Harry to get away from PEOPLE -- I swear I'm going to be a hermit in another year or so -- so I hope I see you before then so I can talk to you.

I saw Mike when he was home -- he's applying to the Peace Corps for next year -- duh!  And Tina and Mark are just about goners -- they're both hitched by now.  So what else is new -- no new lights in my horizon -- for once in 3 years -- everything seems planned out and all I have to do is follow it all through.  I'm going home for a while -- then back to Boston to old Calumet St. and the old job at Mass Mental.  And every fall I'm usually freaking out wondering what to do -- it all seems so dull this way -- maybe something will come up and fuck me up -- if I'm lucky.  You know my Boston address -- right?  It'll be me and Doreen and Nancy and -- get this -- Doreen and John are getting married -- that's too much in itself -- and planning to live with us in the same place when they do.  Shades of Apt 203, Lake Street!  Oh we are just so unconventional aren't we?  Now I am going to end all this -- just write soon.  Take care Paul -- I hate to say it, but I will (see you at Christmas) SHIT!