Tufts University - Jumbo Yearbook (Medford, MA)

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ACTIVITIES stared back at Norman like an empty beer can, and he noticed that during his recollections he ' d mysteriously typed a sentence on his resume next to ACTIVITES: Life is just a game, you fly your paper plane, there is no end. Dorothy read it over his shoulder. What ' s it mean? Did I do it? Of course you did it. What ' s it mean? It means I don ' t know anything worth writing for this resume. What about the magazine you started on campus? Y ' mean Pigeon-Ink? That sloppy thing? That ' s ridiculous. I tried to get on the staff of the Sightseer but they only wanted typists. I submitted countless poems and stories to the Pufts Lit Magazine but I heard nothing and I never got the copies back. Shit, I didn ' t do anything here. You organized Fester Enterprises, cooed Dorothy, stroking his hair. Yeh, a group of maniacs putting together a gigantic party. An affair that lasted all day and all night and we gave away eleven kegs of beer and fell into debt. And the campus cops closed it down, people complaining about drunken students pissing on nearby cars — Shhh! cooed Dorothy. Now you ' re complaining, and that ' s not right. But what shall I write for ' ACTIVITIES ' ? Don ' t write anything. Come and sit down on the bed. A century of passionate flowers rained on their upturned faces, an hour of bliss floated slowly by. Janis you are everywhere Janis you are everything Janis . . . I love it when you call me Janis, whispered Dorothy, her eyes moaning. You are Janis. But you are also Dorothy. I don ' t understand. Norman yawned, snuggled close to her, feeling the warmth of her eternal flesh. I ' m me. Your mind plays these games. But I feel it, replied Norman, muffled voice coming out of soft flesh. To you I ' m Janis when I ' m running wild and free, and I ' m Dorothy when I wanna stay at home, in my own room. To me, they ' re just a variety of attitudes in my life. But before you were free, loving, and now you ' re a drag, pushing — You need pushing. You cannot wallow in my love and feel sorry for yourself. You gotta stand up and do something. I push because . .. because I love you. Norman was perplexed. He couldn ' t respond. He couldn ' t say I love you, because he meant it too deeply. Words would shake him up, distort the image, turn real love into Hollywood romance. Real love cannot be uttered, Norman had no words. Someone actually loves me, thought Norman in a trance, someone actually tries to help me and I only get mad and she still tries, she actually digs my being! 22

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And for a time without end they snuggled together, Dorothy and Norman united and living in tune to his fantasy, Janis. Leo Di Genero burst in with a Leo ' s here, where ' s the beer, every¬ body stand and cheer! Tell me, is the coast clear? Is the Law drawing near? Your marijuana crops failed this year, you cannot even shed a tear? And this is your loved one you hold so dear? Dorothy and Norman quickly put on clothes while Leo caressed his pencil-thin mustache and Van Dyke beard. Sorry to rush you people, but I came to ask King Fester here, said Leo, pointing to Norman, what ' s happening on this lazy campus tonight? Everybody went into Beantown to watch the riots, Dorothy remark¬ ed, sounding more like Janis every minute. And you two stayed home to make your own riot! Leo shouted, gesticulating wildly to some unkown example across the room, wearing that Pachuco grin, using his Radio YUFO announcer ' s voice, courtesy of the Genero School of Broadcasting. He was well known for his snazzy sport coat and brown derby, a laugh like a hyena and the subtle wit of a horny necromaniac undertaker. Leo, watcha been doin ' since you graduate? Well, Norm, I ' ll tell ya, he drawled. I been shoveling into people ' s ears that donkey shit those guys at WXPE call music. It ' s been a lesson how bad it is to work for lousy pay and mediocre people. But I heard you on YUFO last night. Yeh, once in a while I do my thing, Leo sneered, using his hands to pantomime someone who ' s jerking-off. Well, least you got a job. I ' m trying to live off my Fester fantasies, Norman said with a pout. Dorothy who became more like Janis touched his hand gently and began to give him her famous one-finger massage. Yeh, well, replied Leo, I ' d rather have a woman than a job. And he glared suspiciously at Dorothy turned Janis. Perhaps he hadn ' t seen the change, only a fleeting glimpse of what was, and now Janis. I don ' t believe you ' d be happy with just a woman, said Janis to Leo. It startled him, he didn ' t know what to say for a moment, and he turned his back to her and spoke only to Norman: Why the blues? What ' s the use, takin ' abuse? I don ' t know, man. It ' s this fucking resume. Splattered indecently across that page is my sweat and blood, my thoughts about life, my progress towards death. It ' s all there in black and white hieroglyphics. Hey, Norm, you got pretty far, but you left out ' CAREER OBJEC¬ TIVE. ' Yeh, I ' m saving that for last, the final showdown. An ' all you got left is ' WORK EXPERIENCE ' AND ' REFERENCES. ' Shit, that ' d be easy. I ' ll give you a hand. What jobs have you held? Norman got a record for the turntable, one about mystical rambling ex-slaves in Mississippi, from Bartholomew ' s collection. 24