by DJM on April 20 at 2:30PM
Huh?

 

Q.

Huh?

Q.

What? Huh? What was that? Speak up there!

Q.

What’s a matter, you don’t talk, kid?

Q.

Let me tell you something about that, kid, let me tell you something about that. I knew Lew Alcindor when he was a young man and they didn’t make HIM go to college at all. Now HE was a player. A good, friendly guy with the basics. The fundamentals. Always respectful to me and the rest of his elders. He knew the game. Not like these kids you got playing now with the tattoos and the hip-hop and the slams and the chains and what have you.

Q.

Am I out of juice? I think I’m out of juice. Would you mind getting me some juice? The legs just aren’t what they used to be.

Q.

How much? Huh? Why, when I was a young man you could take the el-train up to the polo grounds and watch a Giants baseball match, and have a great time, and get a Hershey bar and the whole thing would cost you a nickel. You hear me? A NICKEL. Now you can’t buy a slice of gum for less than two bits. Of course, in those days, a nickel was a lot of money. I had a paper route when I was in the fourth grade to earn some spending money – I liked to get that bazooka gum, which always had a strip of funnies in it and we’d just laugh and laugh at those – and I earned only four cents a month. I gave two of that to my poppy to pay for my share of the rent and the victuals, but the other two cents I got to keep. It was tough times, but it was good times, let me tell you. That two cents went a long way then, and I had more than some. More than some. Always counted my blessings.

Q.

Huh?

Q.

Oh, I don’t mind. If anybody wants to take me, I’d be happy to play. I would play any old place. I always did like the Kentucky Colonels. Sharp lookers out there. I like the look of ‘em. Dr. Naismith always used to tell me all you need is a pole and a peach basket. And he was right, you know. We used to play at the Young Men’s Christian Association and had just a heck of a good time. A heck of a time.

Q.

What?

Q.

How are we gonna talk if you won’t speak up?

Q.

I SAYS HOW ARE WE GONNA TALK IF YOU WON’T SPEAK UP?

Q.

She's a classy dame. Ah, forget it. Damn kids always whispering around me. Go play your GameStation and your X-Machines. "Murder She Wrote" is on, and I never miss my Jessica.

 

*****

The rhetorical format for these interviews is taken from David Foster Wallace's extraordinary book of the same name, which includes a series of interviews in which the questions are not seen. Seriously, the book isastonishinglygood, as one might expect what with it being written by the greatest living writer of the English language and all. And no, I'm not just saying that to avoid a cease and desist letter (I'm pretty sure this is fair parody); I'm saying that to encourage him to write another novel, for pity's sake. It's been ten years. Come on. We're waiting, our breath bated. Please. I'll beg if I have to.

So if you came here looking for the DFW book: buy it. If you came here looking for real interviews with physically ugly individuals, no dice. Alors. Good luck.

This post made possible with the help of the comedic talents of Black Morris.



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