The Point of That Last Post

“See…the problem is…Lacey doesn’t know she’s very pretty. She thinks she’s vaguely pretty and my dear, gracious, glorious brother Joe…never told her otherwise. Not once. In all the years he was blabbing endlessly away to her subconscious he never told her even once how pretty she really is or was.” says JFK.

“He reminds me of Benny. But he isn’t Benny.”

“It rhymes!” says a former U.S. President.

“Ahh well. The Devil makes us sin.” says Woody.

*Pat laughs on cue*

Bobby Sr. says, “He gave her some sense that to him she’d be pretty enough to catch his attention, I guess. But not necessarily enough to keep his attention, if you know what I’m insinuating. Marriage didn’t even enter into the conversation. Although I think he told her he felt that serious about her, which actually makes very little sense.” *Bobby scoffs*

“He wasn’t clear. At all!” says JFK. “He was bizarre. Out of a normal context. And he seemed like a hopeful person. For Heaven, maybe if we were that…fortunate. If that’s the right word.”

“And that makes you angry, Jack?” asks a dead psychologist.

“Well yeah!” says Jack.

Gunhild drinks her coffee, sinks deep into a chair and closes her eyes in exasperation.

“We don’t watch. We watch.” explains Ron.

“She’d have loved Joe until she died.” observes someone dead, cooly, on a shady front step in Manhattan, smoking a cigarette in a early 1900’s summer. Because he smokes tobacco.

“Who touched her in Penzance?” asks someone dead.

“Who actually touched her or who claims to have touched her?” asks Hemingway.

“I did.” says Michael.

Joe Jr. looks at him in shock. Somehow…this was not what he anticipated.

“If anything I thought it was one of my brothers. Or my father. Or Lem, of course.” Joe laughs.

Joe has claimed it was him. Joe Sr. has claimed it was him. Many dead men have. Her own living ex-husband has questioned it…but he’s not capable of having done it.

“Why wasn’t it me?!” asks Elliott.

“Because I know you.” says Joe. “I know your thoughts on this.”

Hemingway is calibrating.

“As he would!” says one of his former wives.

“I thought it was Joe. Or Elliott-“ says Lacey.

“See!” says Elliott.

“It wasn’t. It was me. I’ve been attracted to you since you were about 20 something.” Michael confesses to Lacey.

“It’s unfortunate.” says Harold Loeb. Hal. Hal Loeb.

“Which episode of Mad Men did I watch at Hal’s bar?” asks Lacey.

“Carrie?! I dated a Carrie once and she broke my heart.” the bartender named Hal at the downtown bar told her in 2010.

Her ex was considering joining the Peace Corps. Possibly going to South America.

“I’m glad I touched you.”

“I’d be so much more upset if you hadn’t.” says Lacey.

“And that’s why you’re not a homosexual. Lem. I don’t think you’re a homosexual.” says Lem’s father as he can see Lem feeling genuinely hurt in reaction to all of this.

“Yeah. You’re right, dad.” he cries. “I think I need to recalibrate.”

“I love you. It’s just like I’ve written you. I’d say it’s all there in those letters.” Lacey explains.

“Why did you do it?!” he asks her once more.

“I really didn’t know what was best.” Lacey answers. “I’m sorry if that’s too eccentric to be comforting. I’m that esoteric by nature, maybe. It really was about what was best in this objective, cool-headed, sad, logical way. Oh well…the Devil makes us sin?” *eye-roll at human evil being so pathetic in every regard* “And then you hope to be redeemed. Respected. To find someone who won’t get stuck, but who will have a future they can guide you into…and a hope. Do you? Did you? I didn’t know.”

…”It was the first episode of Mad Men in July. I think.” Lacey clarifies.

“Happy birthday to me!” says Joe.