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All parenthetic comments are Larry's own.

D / Boop = his sister Dolores.

Hertzy = Hertzy Stalzer, friend (photos of Hertzy at 1954 Jan 11).

Sample of Larry's  handwriting below.

replaced name of his nephew with "your son"





Les: (oh yes + Dolores) (oh yes + Wee--how appropriate--Willie)


        Terrible, isn't it? The way women act up, that is. They should repeal the __th Amendment or pass a new one granting men equal rights. This diatribe, naturally, is inspired by D's (that's the heading on the stationary) steadfast refusal to paint the hall. Back in the old days you would just beat her, but with court's overwhelming prejudice in favor of la belle femme, you have to net $50,000 a year in order to give a wife a proper tanning. There's an alternative however. Just whack hell out of your son until she softens and paints it. Of course if he's growing as fast as you both claim even that is risky. Maybe you had better just read those pamphlets yourself...or you could tack up the boy's used diapers...you are painting it brown, aren't you?

        People continue couple "lousy" and "Larry's handwriting" in the same sentence, but boy, don't ever correspond with your in-laws or you'll be in the same club. I didn't have the least trouble reading it, but I noticed Mom (she never writes, only reads) squinting over it this morning I think we're both maligned. Harry has nicely solved the problem. This morning's mail included 2 records from him, recounting his tribe's doings. The idea might catch on--it's so much easier; you just oh, ah, er and hm till the side is finished. (It was really good) (naturally).

        The weather here is fabulous. The last couple of weeks has seen constant sunshine, and the temp has ranged up to 85 at mid-day. Good golfing weather, and I've been taking advantage of it. I've shot a few good games, but most have been mediocre at best. At least I'll know where the courses are for your visit.

        While I think of it tell D that I solved her little Indians and horses puzzle. I abutted the horses and then laid the riders down the seam. Correct, huh? Half a horse comes from each one.

        Feel I get gypped on the length of letters. D writes 4 pages, but all in all I doubt they equal 2 pages of this. She folds them in half and uses a pic-a-ture on the final page--clever girl.

        Happy to hear you're making a hausfrau out of her finally and happier I hear she delights in it. All women, like dogs, should be domesticated.

        As you can probably tell from the general tenure of this letter I've started and stopped it about 5 times. A ten minute burst of writing is about my limit. That helps explain away my quick changes of subjects then. When I return I'm all full of ---- uh uh, not what you thought, but new ideas. So, presto chango.

        Watched the Emmy awards for TV excellence for a while tonight and a college prof on Educational TV channel here stole the show. Puts on "Shakespeare on TV" and accepted his award by saying that due to serious incapacity the man most responsible for his being there couldn't himself be there--Mr. Will Shakespeare of Stratford. Then he went on to acknowledge his indebtedness to his writer--Mr. Will Shakespeare. He showed the pros how it could be done--also took down two {illegible word} awards.

    Boop asks about Hertz and, for shame--this is a dirty word--work--. He couldn't catch on to anything and far away places called, so he hit out for Oregon. He leads quite a life, works during the summer, travels during the winter.


Am tired,




PS: Have clubs for you here when you come

PSS: Honest

PSSS: Challenge you--dime a hole, you spot me 12 strokes, okay?

PSSSS: Thought not

PSSSSS: Hate to see space go to waste, ergo the PSSSS's. C'est ce que or something. Isn't that French and German (Adieu? and Spanish) good? Now I can be illiterate in four languages.


To go to next letter, click here: 1954 Feb 13