In re: Albert Banfill:

Albert’s job in the “transportation sector” translates as “airport shuttle bus driver.” But it is a job, a requirement of his parole if he is to remain on the outside, so I suppose I should not look too harshly on his making the best of it. (I hope “making the best of it” does not progress into collecting left-over purses, luggage, etc. But Albert has no record of petty theft) It doesn’t pay much, but he does well in tips. His explanation for being in the casino might have washed had he not carried $20 in quarters in with him.

In Re: D. Tybalt Oldman:

I was granted possession of what papers DT had assembled in his current incarceration – all loose-leaf, scrawled upon with a dull pencil -- as well as instructions on where I might find a trunk full of other notebooks and paraphernalia. This came with pointed instructions that I was to publish his collected wit and wisdom “right quick,” with the understanding that I might get a cut of the royalties (if any). Getting the trunk of older material was more of an adventure than I imagined when I agreed to the task. A long ride through PA and into WV-Maryland border area landed me on a back country road where the illustrations of curves on the highway signs could not keep up with reality. Some “cousins” had been holding DT’s trunk in an outbuilding for the promise of $20 a month storage, payment on demand. Upon inspection, the price of redemption quickly fell as mice had nested inside. They settled for a twelve-pack of Old Milwaukee and a roll of wintergreen snuff, and parted with the suggestion that they might have knowledge of more of DT’s treasures when I had an interest.

DT’s scrawl barely qualifies as handwriting. The unnumbered loose pages are covered corner to corner with a smudged line of graphite that has been erased in places til the paper tore, or crossed out and written over until only a black smear remains. Nothing looks like text, much less poetry. His method seems to have been to first write the name of his latest interest at a random point on the page, then construct a pillar of rhymes above and below it, followed by some contrived nonsense hammered into a horizontal rhythmic frame. Some names, needless to say, worked better than others. He seems to have struggled quite a bit with Shelly, and couldn’t come up with much beyond belly and smelly (which he vigorously x’d out), telly(?), attempted something with “well he” before settling on any word ending with an E. Shelly was replaced by Michele (the number of L’s varying), with rhymes so similar to a Beatles song that one can only surmise that Lennon and McCartney unaccountably took a peek.

In answer to Fairweather, “Sadie” was easily rhymed with “lady” and some lyrical “hay dee hay dee hay dee.” The Delightful Miss Fairweather will also be gratified to learn that several works were started in her name (whether, heather, ever, clever, never, sever, weather), returning again to “Heather?” Perhaps he thought the full name is Heather Fairweather, but wasn’t sure. Molly has holly, the inevitable golly, and the improbable jolly. (In my limited and confused experience with women, I don’t recall many who would care to be called “jolly.”) Some names just stumped him. Lydia was painfully rhymed with “pity a.” One of his late attempts, apparently at political commentary, settled on Murtha (earth-a, worth-a, Bertha) but more easily switched to Jack (slack, stack, back, crack, etc.)

I don’t know if all these efforts were directed at specific women or if he stockpiled names for future use. Some pages start with a line of names more or less alphabetically across the top of the page with rhymes below: Abby, Addy, Allie, Annie, Alice (palace, malice). One name might call to mind several more: Hannah with banana and “understand-a”, “cute as a panda” etc. That gave way to Amanda, to whom he would “hand-a” indecipherable compliment, than back to Anna, Joanna, hosanna, Rosanna. And so on.

More to follow as time permits. All and sundry are welcome to contact me to learn if their name has been immortalized by the Bard of Rails.

G