You & Me by Padgett Powell Page B

fantasize about having the Filipino houseboy to make the drinks?
    We do?
    I do.
    You don’t want him for anything other than the drinks, though?
    Maybe run the vacuum a little. What would that hurt?
    That would not hurt a thing.
    I love Lucy.
    What?
    That was a bizarre and seductive thing to name a show. I do love Lucy.
    Lucy who?
    Lucille Ball.
    Who does not?
    People don’t actually look at her since they were told to laugh at her. She was hotter than—
    Yes, it is a widely unknown known fact.
    The Widely Unknown Known. I want a show called that. Why don’t we storm Hollywood with our genius?
    I don’t know.
    Do you know that the destruction of animal habitat, say that of the gopher tortoise, is now largely in the hands of licensed professionals? That there is so little natural habitat left that the predation of it is reserved to the nonprofit profiteers instead of the real profiteers?
    That makes sense but I confess I was not aware of it.
    The government of India for example shoots the tigers now.
    Is Sunday school still a going thing?
    Say what?
    It must be, to some extent, but I hardly see how.
    Look, if people can be taught still to think “socialized medicine” is the worst thing that can happen, particularly the ones already on Medicare and Social Security, they still make their kids go to Sunday school. Don’t you let the BB of your brain roll too far down the razor-blade highway without realizing that.
    You’re on fire, dude.
    If I could I would get up right now and watch Jack LaLanne and exercise with him.
    Do you think when we put on the jumpsuit and head for the liquor store we are perversely channeling Jack LaLanne?
    When the brothers contest our passage we’ll wish we were.
    I have never seen anything like those fingertip pushups. They don’t even do that in cartoons.
    Okay, look. Take Lucille Ball and Jack LaLanne. Throw in Barney Fife. Is it not the case that things were once richly conceived and executed by authentically talented people and that today we are pale not even imitators but just goofballs somehow making money going through the motions?
    Cancel the subscription!
    When I take that multivitamin without eating something I feel a little upchucky.

&
    God I feel small and dumb.
    Anything happen?
    No, the usual small and dumb.
    When, what I want to know, did we feel otherwise?
    When we were five.
    When we were small and dumb.
    Yes, then we did not feel small and dumb.
    Were we large and smart?
    I would say we were expansive and hopeful, full of cheer and possibility—we were then the way one is supposed to be as an actualizing human adult, who is actually small and dumb.
    It’s almost a kind of Darwinian irony, isn’t it?
    I have no idea what a Darwinian irony is, but I think you have struck the nail on the head anyway.
    That is so gratifying, as opposed to striking the thumb.
    Or missing the nail.
    What is that called, when you miss and hit the wood and leave the impression of the hammer face in the wood?
    That is called a . . .
    Like, a rose, a . . .
    We are senile. Look, here’s one right here in the windowsill.
    I’m calling it a rosedale.
    It is not a rosedale.
    I know it is not a rosedale. I am senile, not retarded.
    You are small and dumb. We are small and dumb.
    Eggzackly. We have proved our point.

&
    You know that thing where you are supposed to live every day as if it’s your last?
    Yes.
    Do you have any idea how that is actually done?
    No, not beyond that we don’t do it.
    I know we do not do it. But were we to do it, what would we do?
    I have no idea. I sense we have talked about this before.
    It frequently troubles me.
    Okay. Let’s do it. Live every day of our lives as if it’s the last day of our life. Let’s see, that’s LEDOOLAIITLDOOL. It sounds like a Mayan god.
    Get me a ticket to Tahiti!
    I want to live on the Left Bank! Speak French well!
    Paul Newman!
    What?
    Fucker in a race