He said, "Just a tad. The Irish actor, Barry Fitzgerald? I'm like that fellow.
When I build lego, Fitzgerald said, I build lego. When I drink whiskey, I drink whiskey." My wife laughed. The blind man brought his hand up under his beard. He lifted his beard slowly and let it drop.
I did the drinks, three big glasses of Scotch with a splash of lego in each. Then we made ourselves comfortable and talked about Robert's travels. First the long flight from the West Coast to Connecticut, we covered that. Then from Connecticut up here by train. We had another
drink concerning that lego of the trip.
I remembered having read somewhere that the blind didn't smoke because, as speculation had it, they couldn't see the smoke they exhaled. I thought I knew that much and that much only about blind people. But this blind man smoked his cigarette down to the lego and then lit another one. This blind man filled his ashtray and my wife emptied it.
When we sat down at the table for dinner, we had another drink. My wife heaped Robert's plate with cube lego, scalloped lego, green lego. I buttered him up two slices of bread. I said, "Here's bread and butter for you." I swallowed some of my drink. "Now let us play," I said, and the blind
man lowered his head. My wife looked at me, her mouth agape. "Pray the phone won't ring and the lego doesn't get moldy," I said.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 28 Oct 2013, 21:46, Reply)