(fwd) Hey, Pynchoneers!

[Timothy C. May]

I found this in rec.arts.books. 

The odd characters/garbage were in the original.

--TCM


From: joshr at tiac.net (Josh Randall)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.books
Subject: Hey, Pynchoneers!
Date: Tue, 28 Feb 1995 22:16:34 -0500
Organization: The Internet Access Company
Lines: 50
Message-ID: <joshr-2802952216340001 at aha.tiac.net>
NNTP-Posting-Host: aha.tiac.net

Here¹s an intriguing story for you:
     In 1978 or so, I lived in the Brighton section of Boston. I was on my 
way home one winter day, riding on the Beacon Street trolley line. The car 
was crowded, I was pole-hanging and reading a copy of _V_, the Bantam 
paperback edition with the dark blue-green cover.
     After awhile, a seat opened up and I went back to sit down. These
were bus-style seats, two abreast in rows on each side of the car, with
an aisle down the middle. Sitting next to me, at the window, was a person 
with a definite air about him. Not a psubway psycho, you understand, but 
just that feeling of charisma, extra awareness, sense of humor you sometimes 
pick up from people. No menace.
     This individual was a white male, late thirties-early forties, very
short crew or butch haircut, tall, not in especially great shape but more
lean than fat, buck teeth, wearing a red down parka, zipped up, and khaki 
chino pants. (Yes, also zipped up!) No hat, don¹t recall the footwear.
     We rode along for a bit, he glanced over over and apparently noticed
me reading, because he asked, in a sort of diffident voice, ³Uh, how do
you like the book?²
     ³Oh, it¹s a great book,² I said, ³very funny.²
     ³Well, um, _what¹s it about_?² You could hear a slight italicized
intensity there.
     Well, this probably my third or fourth time through _V_, and I wasn¹t
about to attempt synopsizing its complexities on the Green Line, so,
feeling somewhat mysterious myself, I marked my place and handed it over
to him so he could read the back cover blurb, saying ³That¹s kind of hard 
to say, here, check it out yourself.² Thinking, ³Hoo boy, a nut after all.²
     He read the back cover, flipped it over, opened up to the first
page of text, and started reading. We chugged along through a few stops,
him reading, me sideways-glancing but as I said, not feeling any real
menace. Finally, we arrived at Coolidge Corner, about halfway down
the line. My companion looked up and said, ³Oops, this is my stop.²
     I turned in the seat to let him out, he handed back the book, saying 
³Thanks, that was _very_ interesting.² Italics in the voice again. As he 
left, I could see he was quite tall, at least 6¹2². He was smiling and 
lighting up a regular dark brown pipe.
     I rode along for another ten minutes or so, thinking, ³That was
odd². Then I thought, ³Y¹know, if I was an author famous for being
reclusive enough to ride on public transportation unrecognized and I saw
someone reading one of my books, I just might...²
     Honest, folks, it really did happen.
     Sometime later, I read an essay in that _Mindful Pleasures_ book
that mentioned a photo of Pynchon had been printed in _New York Magazine_
and gave the date, so the next time I was near the BPL, I checked it out.
The photo had been neatly torn out of the bound copy, of course. I often
wonder if the guy was carrying it with him that day.
     U-unless one of *you* guys took it...

     ...regards, Josh Randall

                  joshr at tiac.net