Love Letters Page #6

Cut the bull, Andy.

It's a dumb life, I wish you'd say so.

-You doing any painting?

-Nope.

-Well, why not take it up again?

-I've decided I'm deeply superficial.

I think you're sensational.

I always have.

Thanks.

I needed that.

Maybe I will go back to it.

Now, back to the hairdresser.

Oh, thanks for the

campaign contribution.

-You gave much too much, by the way.

-Oh, hell.

You're a symbol of righteousness

and rectitude in our godforsaken land.

Maybe it's just me that's godforsaken.

Congratulations on your election,

Senator Ladd...

...and greetings from Hickory Hill.

A slight regression in the liquor

department. It's in the genes.

God knows, my mother

has the problem...

...and my father too, in the end.

Anyway, I'm working on it.

Darwin's being a real heel

about the girls.

He's cut down on my visitation rights,

so when you get to Washington...

...I want you to write a special law

about vindictive ex-husbands...

...banishing them to lower Slobovia

forever and ever. Amen.

Seasons greetings from Senator

and Mrs. Andrew M. Ladd and family.

Seasons greetings indeed.

Is that all you can say to me

after all these years?

I swear, Andy, keep that stuff up,

and I'll moon the whole Senate.

Sorry, my staff sent that out.

Merry Christmas, old friend. How

are you? Where are you these days?

Living in New York.

Alone, for a change.

But the big question is,

who am I these days?

That's the toughie.

I keep thinking about that

strange old world we grew up in.

How did it manage

to produce both you and me?

A stalwart, upright

servant of the people...

...and a boozed-out,

cynical, lascivious old broad.

The best and the worst, that's us.

Don't be so tough on yourself.

Get back to your art.

I'll try.

Merry Christmas,

happy New Year and much love.

"Much love."

"Much love."

God, Andy, how sexy.

Do you remember how much

that meant in our preppy days?

If it was just "love,"

you were out in the cold.

If it was "all my love,"

you were hemmed in for life.

But "much love" meant

it could go either way.

Remember?

Merry Christmas

and love from us all.

Saw you on 60 Minutes talking about

economic policy in Latin America.

You looked fabulous, but don't forget

to keep your eye on the ball.

-What ball?

-The ball...

...is that money

doesn't solve everything.

It helps, but not as much

as people think.

Take it from one who knows.

That's the ball.

Merry Christmas with love.

What are you up to these days?

I'm trying to work with clay.

I'm making dogs, cats,

anything that moves.

I'm trying to get back to some of those

old, old feelings of the homeland.

I've got to find feelings,

any feelings, otherwise I'm dead.

Come down and help

me search. We could....

Well, we could at least have

dinner and discuss old times...

...couldn't we, Senator Ladd?

P.S. Did you know my mother

got married again...

...at the age of 82...

...to my father's brother, yet?

So you have to call her Mrs. Gardner

again, just like in the old days.

It seems the wheel

is coming around full circle.

Hint, hint.

On the way to the airport.

When you write, put "Mrs. Walpole"

on the envelope.

She'll pass your letters

directly to me.

Otherwise the whole office staff

seems to get a peek. I gotta go.

I'm having a show

January 28th to February 25th.

Would you come? I'd love to have you

see what I've been up to.

Maybe it'll ring a few old bells.

What I did with that one was

I took a rock...

...just a regular, garden-variety rock.

I took it back to the studio....

Notice that little man

who's just leaving?

-Yes. Why?

-He's the critic for The Times.

Oh, God, then he hated me.

You can't tell, Melissa.

After all, he came, didn't he?

And he stayed 10 minutes.

And he ate up all the cheese. Relax.

Have a drink. Oh, I'm sorry.

Have a soda, then.

-Oh, another fan.

-Who? What? Where?

Oh, my God. What is this?!

An official visit from the National

Endowment for the Arts.

You're under arrest.

Have some wine.

Have some cheese.

Have some art.

Hey.

I've got five minutes, literally.

There's a contingent

eager to drop me at the airport...

...so they can pig out at 2 1 .

But, hey.... Wow.

Wanna buy something?

Everything's going fast.

Seriously?

I wish.

We could use excitement

on our living-room walls.

Jane might not agree.

I'll just have to smuggle it

into my study, then.

What do you recommend?

Well, there is something over here

that might ring an old bell.

What is it?

I call it Kangaroo Jumping Over

a Glass of Orange Juice.

I made it out of that stuff we used

in Mrs. Mickler's art class.

-Plasticine?

-You remember.

And the stamps

are a secret tribute to you.

Thanks.

So how are you, by the way?

Fine.

Oh, I thought that was a dirty word.

Sorry.

-Well, you look fine. I can say that.

-Really?

-Do you like my hair?

-It's fine.

-Well....

-Oh, well, go if you're gonna go.

Send me the kangaroo and the bill.

For you, it's a freebie.

I wish I could stay.

Why don't you?

Duty calls.

My mother always told me when

duty calls, hang up immediately.

Well, maybe I will someday.

I won't hold my breath.

Still too much starch.

I'll write.

That's what I'm afraid of.

Wasn't that Senator Andrew

Makepeace Ladd III?

I didn't know you knew him.

-We're lovers.

-What?

Since second grade.

I thought he was a family man.

-We're lovers through letters.

-Letters?

Some like whips. Some like chains.

This one likes letters.

Your mother was right, I hung up.

Let's go someplace.

I liked your grandmother.

I loved her a lot. And thank God

for the dough she left me.

Without that, we'd be meeting

on a little walkup on skid row.

Yeah, my mother once said

if I married you, I'd be set for life.

Granny said the same about you.

She clocked you for a winner

a long time ago, Senator Ladd.

-Where'd you get this?

-Granny took it.

It was our first play date, remember?

My mother was in Reno...

...so Granny asked you over.

Even then, she thought

you'd be good for me.

I remember, the butler brought us...

...ginger ale and cookies

on a silver tray.

-We played kickball in the ballroom.

-We rode the elevator up and down.

And then we got stuck between floors,

and then you kissed me.

Maybe we're still stuck in that elevator.

Except...

...you're going up,

and I'm going down.

Knock it off.

Hey, what's going on?

I'm not sure.

Well...

...whatever it is, it should

probably go on in the bedroom.

Did you ever dream

we'd be so good in bed?

Two old Wasps going at it

like a sale at Brooks Brothers.

I figure a lifetime

went into that little tussle.

Let's go for an afterlife.

I love red roses.

I'm beginning to know

what they mean.

All I know is that after last night,

I have to see you again.

-When do you come back?

-Soon, I swear.

Not soon enough.

Andy...

...are any other fundraisers

coming up in the near future?

Mrs. Walpole, are you

delivering the mail?

Darling, I'll have to ask you

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