Authors, Writers, Publishers, and Book Readers
In my last posting, I confided that not long ago I’d spoken via telephone with three people: Lauren Havess, Valerie Danns, and R.F. Husnik. And I told you what, of any (in my opinion) importance had been exchanged in my conversations with Lauren and Valerie. Today I shall relate what occurred as a result of my contacting R.F. Husnik.
To my surprise, I was actually able to persuade RFH to visit our city! But I wasn’t able to convince him to relocate to it. And he actually said he didn’t feel he was worthy of my invitation to join all of us who today are living here near the river on the north side of this city.
But I think I can speak for all of us who met him that day, when I say we were nearly astounded at what a mild mannered, down-to-earth, and friendly person he is. And I personally told him that’s not the image of him that I had in my mind. And I also said that based upon what I’d read of his various writings, I’d always pictured him as a rather cold, sarcastic, egotistical, and perhaps even mean person. But then, I admitted that I’d apparently been wrong.
He motored into our city on a Wednesday forenoon, and the first thing we actually did with him was eat lunch at one of our north side restaurants. And when I say “we,” I refer to the entourage of friends I was able to assemble that day. They accompanied RFH and myself to the restaurant, and then to numerous “sites” around town.
And let me tell you who actually was out and about with us that day. I was able to get Rashon and Amber to join us. John (F. John Surells) and Renni also attended, as did a young musician named Pierce Gates, who only recently relocated here. I wanted Orlon Braem and his girlfriend Bridgette to join us also, but they had other plans that day.
And I guess R.F.’s greatest disappointment that day was that he was unable to meet the man whom literature knows as Joseph Same, but whom we in our city know by his real name. And I guess Joe and Sharon also had other commitments that day. Nonetheless, RFH said he’d been able to access “The Same Tapes,” and had read it. But when I asked him how he’d come across a copy of what by now must be an infamously unpublished novel, he refused to tell me. But he did give me, what he termed some “words,” which he said I could post along with my retelling of this day’s events – if I chose to.
And I neglected to inform you of our last accomplice. He didn’t meet with us at my house, which was to be the initial “starting point” of our adventures. Instead, he joined us at the restaurant while we were already eating. And of course, I’m speaking here of Charles Platt, my poor, young, ex-Marine buddy, whose welfare I’m frankly beginning to be concerned about. He strolled in rather sullen-faced, introduced himself to RFH, and then quickly ordered a meal, which he then consumed rapidly until he reached a point in it at which he’d “caught up” to the rest of us, who had, of course, begun without him.
And after our meal was ended, we offered to take RFH on a tour of our city. We showed him how we’re developing the near north side – trying to resettle “artistic types” there. And we showed him many of the large homes on the farther north side – where the truly wealthy live. And he asked to specifically see the house where Lauren Havess had grown up.
Then we escorted him around the south side, and his displeasure at what he saw there became evident through his facial expressions, though he didn’t comment upon anything or anyone there. But he asked to see the large factory that Lauren’s dad had once owned. And he also wanted to see the meager abode in which Joseph Same had existed before he married his first wife Laura, and moved to the north side.
And, I guess, being the sort of fellow RFH is, I shouldn’t have been surprised when he asked us to show him that deserted road outside of town, upon which a number of unexplainable occurrences have apparently occurred. But after we did drive to it, and to its end, we turned our cars around and headed back to the city. We then spent a couple of hours in conversation at the home of F. John Surells before we went out for dinner. After that, we called it a day, and, as had been planned, RFH stayed the night in our city, and left for home in the morning.
And now, at this point, let me relate “the words” RFH gave me for my possible “sharing” in this post. The following are the words of R.F. Husnik.
(Once upon a time, PRIDE proudly claimed to be the greatest sin, and yet, simultaneously, the only real hope of mankind. And it said to the arrogant “I’m a scourge that weighs upon you like a feeble heart.” And to the mild-mannered it confided, “I’ll never allow you to perform one worthy deed without my presence tarnishing it.”
And to the sojourners who tried to walk in the middle of the road it advised, “There are two competing sets of outlooks fighting above your head. Hasten therefore to the castle, and retrieve your cloak of armor, lest those encamped on either side of the road emerge to do battle when the traffic subsides, and you find yourself entangled in the age old struggle of left versus right, and right versus left.”
But yet, for all its hubris, pride really couldn’t deny that day that it’s usually “hanging on” by mere threads, which to some, of course, appear as chains of iron. Still, “controllers” usually like pride. It usually makes them proud to think they’re in control.
But the parameters of control end where the dictates of law begin. And who can say today that he or she has written sensible laws? Not the prideful. Not those in the ditch on either side of the political spectrum. And no, many times not even the wayfarers in the middle of the road. Therefore, who has guided mankind for centuries? Who has procured its continual existence? I doubt it was the arrogant. It surely wasn’t the socially and/or unrepentantly sinful. Probably, though this may seem anticlimactic, it must have been those mortals who utilized common sense.)