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26. How Does It Feel?
26. How Does It Feel?
“One minute after; what should I be feeling?”
“You’ll see.”
“Two minutes and nothing special, Ali-san, you said to talk? Well, imagine society – no, let us limit it to a community, even better, a small group or just two.”
“Like you and me, Hon?”
“Yes, I think I am feeling something.”
“Just keep on about you and me.”
“Well, let us say we solve the economic problem and do not have to work?”
“But we solved it, Hon, an’t we? Tommy and I inherited a coupla million from our Uncle Guy, and didn’t you say you’re an only son a some rich geezer from--- uh, whadaya call that industrial cabal?”
“Zaibatsu.”
“Yeah, dat’s it. So continue.”
“Alone, each person is nothing. Even if one is rich and can indulge his fancy, what happens at end? Down the garbage hatch, all one’s brilliance!”
“Hey, Kim, ‘tan’t always so. What if you’re a genius like Balzac and your brilliance gets published?”
“That brings us to the unfairness of commercial publication. People will not read a writer’s writing unless they have to pay for it between commercially published covers. Blessing of book publication is the motto to explain the public’s mindless acceptance of what a publisher commercially promotes. It is a problem for us writers who have something important to say and, even if we write well, cannot get people to read our work because publishers do not see its commercial potential. Today a writer who wants to be read needs notoriety – movie star, gangster, politico. Look at Mein Kampf – essentially high school bluster but sold multi millions because dictated by The Great Dictator. I could write a brilliant entertaining book and it would never get read. Why? The publishers say ‘Who in hell is he?’”
Ali gives him a kiss and says, “You tell ‘em big boy!” then takes another tack. “OK, nuff a that complainin’. Be positive.”
Kimura is surprised how the morphine brings out his critical edge. “OK, Ali-san. Getting back to cooperation, I think we two will do well to combine our brainpower, our energy, our joie de vivre.”
“I’ll drink to dat. Shall we do it at lunch, like da ladies at” Ali reaches for the Pepsi, takes a swig, and passes it to Kimura.
“Ten minutes. What’s it like, Hon?
“Very nice and totemo yoi from my Japanese side, yes? And sehr gut, tres bien or ochen chorosho as my German, French or Russian incarnation would say. Now I know what it means to be sane, darling.”
“You call me darling! Oh ho! You are feeling it. Speak on, my Don.”
“We could reinforce each other in good health ways so as to head off sickness and attain longest life possible. First we decide the program of healthy longevity practice and avoidance; then we keep on each other’s case, in case we do an unhealthy thing.”
“F’r’instance?”
“Smoking. We could start reminding each other not to smoke.”
“Ooch, that hurts! I love my MaryJane.”
“Is not there a healthier way to get its feeling than poisoning lungs? I want we two too, to experience each other, which means we must live in best health for the full total one-million hours.
“One-million hours? Wha’?"
“One-million hours computes to circa one-hundred fourteen years life expectancy, which we already know rare humans are capable of. But the few who have made it there are always decrepit because they could not give up the bad habits like smoking, and we will not live long, if we smoke. The damage is from smoke, any smoke that gets breathed into lungs. Shall we decide to stop?”
Ali pulls Kimura to sitting position and looks directly into his eyes, switching to normal English as she does when serious and calm. “You know, Kim, you confirm now what my experience with morphine tells me true. It makes for super-saneness. I mean, what you just said – I’m sure you had fact and reason behind it before you got the jab of morphine but you had too many inhibitions, personal complexes and anxieties to say what you should have said after you knew you loved me and wanted us to experience long, healthy life together. It took the jab to clear your mind for the important thing. Well, you know something? I agree and we shall make it policy - Stop on a dime – smoking that is – immediately now! If we see one of us light up, we say Naughty-Naughty. Allow me to kiss you to seal the deal, you heel.”
“Ali-san, you have got that rhyming sickness again." He looks at the big clock. “Twelve minutes. It is not a thing I can put a metaphoric finger on; just an overall feeling of wellness, of wholeness, of pleasure.”
“I got it too, Hon. Now les make loverly love, lover.”
They are off early morning, Kimura driving, Ali beside him with a map.
To read next, click 2.26a Death Valley Days
To read next, click 2.26a Death Valley Days
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