1965

Greetings!

Christmas is at our throats once again--only this time the usual panic, rush, etc. is further complicated by the fact that at the time of writing this I’m not settled as to a job and a place to live, so I’ll be doing very well if I can get greetings off at all, let alone on time.

In January, in spite of the preceding six horrible months of household painting, etc, I took off for New York to take up the study of interior design. I drove by the southernmost route to avoid snow. A long, wearisome journey… you realize how big this country really is when you start to drive across it. The Arizona and New Mexico desert were beautiful, and what bliss-- perfect peace, hardly another car or human being in sight.

School proved to be hectic, as it was a very high pressure course, involving vast amounts of leg work as well as work, so there was not much time for recreation. But the course was so fascinating it was worth it. I used to think of furniture as just some thing to sit on and a nuisance to dust and polish… but when you learn the whole history of architecture, art, decoration and furnishing, including all the “ingredients” that go into an interior (such as rugs, wallpaper, fabrics, ceramics, glass, etc.) from the time of the ancient Egyptians down to the present day, you see everything around you with new eyes. But imagine the struggle trying to remember it all for our final exam! We also studied room arrangement, trade information, color and antiques. All the instructors and special lecturers were practically architects, designers, decorators, etc. So we really got the expert “word.” I stayed on for the summer course in design (drafting) and sketching which in New York’s sweltering humid heat meant literally sweating over a hot drawing board. I loved all my courses and enjoyed the museums, stores, etc. that N.Y. has to offer, but think it is a vile place in which to live. In all my round-the-world travels, I’ve never seen such rude people anywhere-ugh! I marvel at the endurance of my friends who manage to stand it there.

In September with the little green bug loaded inside and outside (tons of books in a tarpaulin on the roof) I took off across country for home again, this time via the middle of the country, more or less, and managed to see several friends en route whom I had not seen for years--though couldn’t manage to see everyone I would like to have seen. As it was the trip took 4 weeks and a day, 4,200 miles, driving, driving, driving, and I had really begun to feel like the Flying Dutchman of the Highways, doomed to spend the rest of my life driving across flat miles of corn, bleak range lands, taking deserts, and crawling up and down endless mountain perks. Incidentally, the Rocky Mountains and English fords are not made for each other. I made the entire trip without any mechanical troubles or mishaps, but mountain climbing was slow, toilsome business, with frequent pauses to cool off the boiling radiator. Nevertheless I thought the mountain landscape interesting, especially in Wyoming. On this return trip I stopped to see Lincoln’s home and grave in Springfield, Ill., and in the way of “natural wonders” found the badlands of South Dakota most fascinating, with all the millions of years of the earth’s geological layers exposed in weird shapes by erosion; also liked the dinosaur and other prehistoric fossil remains exhibited in various places nearby. I think I was looking at about 60 million years worth of the earth’s history. It makes you (and the world’s current troubles) seem pretty small, after all. After that, the so-called “old west” history at Fort Laramie seemed pretty “new.” I was further fascinated by the Bonneville Salt Flats of Utah--miles and miles of white desert composed of crystallized salt. Nice and crunchy to walk on; and plenty of disconcerting mirages out there, too.

The Middle West was pretty cold -- and down to around 20º sometimes in Nevada -- so trust good old California to give me a really warm welcome, 90º to 100º the whole first week I was back. October. Now, November, has evened the balance with two weeks of pouring rain, which has somewhat put the damper on my job-hunting activities, but I trust that in due course I can get settled up in the San Francisco Bay area.

A happy Christmas and New Year!