American Pastrol Page #8

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You've seen me.

Please go now.

If you love me,

you'll let me be.

That was to be the last

time he ever saw her.

He never got over merry.

He never got over her,

and never gave up on her.

It was good to see you.

Will you excuse me?

Are you taking off?

Oh, there you are. Uh...

Yeah. These days I'm asleep

on my feet after 9:00.

Yeah, me too.

Uh, well, it was good

to see you. Really.

Well, night.

Jerry.

The Swede's funeral tomorrow,

do you mind if I come?

No. No, not at all.

I'd be happy to see you.

You remember.

You were there.

He called you "skip."

As we prepare to recite

the mourner's kaddish,

we remember the Swede

one last time.

A football hero,

a baseball hero,

an officer in the marines.

What merry blew up

with that bomb of hers

was nothing less than his life.

He never got past

the Rimrock bomber,

a girl who perhaps didn't

deserve anything from him,

who wasn't on the same playing

field as him or anybody else.

At this time, please rise

for the mourner's kaddish.

You come at people

with an open mind

and yet you never fail

to get them wrong.

You get them wrong

while you're with them

or you tell someone about them

and get them wrong again.

That's how we know we're alive.

We are wrong...

about the Swede,

how life was going to

open its arms

and shower blessings upon him.

I was never more wrong

about anyone in my life.

Thank you. It's nice to see you.

Thanks for coming today.

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