Boy, that was a long one you sent. Okay okay, I know I'm behind like four letters, but I'm writing back, NOW, dude. And by now, I obviously mean two years in your future.
1. I already knew your cat was named Keanu. I'm in the future. But thanks for reminding me; that dude is literally a cool cat. LITERALLY.
2. I get it, you like Jon Hamm. You mention him in all your letters to me, and I have therefore decided NOT to introduce you two in present day. I'm watching out for Jesse, dude. He's a good bro.
3. I don't even remember doing that Details interview two years ago, but I guess thanks for quoting it fifty million times in your last letter -------
But [Keanu] is wondering whether at some point we should drive to Santa Monica,because a friend of his has passed along word of a sub, a magnificent sub, that is made at a place called Bay Cities Italian Deli & Bakery. "I was told that
it's got the shredded lettuce," he rhapsodizes. "It's like, you know, a good sandwich."
I mention another work about suburban crisis,Richard Yates' Revolutionary Road, and he rears back and slides the helmet onto his head so that he can free up his left hand. "Oh, YES!!!" he shouts. "Let's high-five on Revolutionary Road!"
"But I found that it was a thread—like time—that you could walk away and come back to."
"Dude, I'm not seeing any," I tell him, and then I apologize in case my use of that timeless West Coast honorific looks like a way to curry favor—a transparent ploy to dude-bond with Johnny Utah. I tell him I can't help it sometimes, I went to high school in Southern California, and . . .
"No, dude is an excellent word," Keanu says. "I won't take it personally. I had a great run with dude."
"Listen to that voice," Keanu says. "He went for it. Showmanship. Showmanship! The shamanism. The shamanisticus. The frontman. The frontman. The front of the band. Rockin'. I think we have to get off this street."
"'When to the sessions of sweet silent thought," he intones—very quickly, and in a cadence that calls to mind a surfer having a panic attack, "'I summon up remembrance of things past / I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought / And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste.'" Here in the rental car Keanu is reciting, from memory, Shakespeare's Sonnet 30. He also reels off 116 and 119 while we wait at a stoplight.
"Oh, yeah, baby!!" he says. "When I read this, my head exploded."
I decided to retype them all here. I don't know why I did that. But, whatever, it is done. Glad you liked it. And read those books I recommended. That's right, I read A LOT. Secretsssssssssssssssssss. AND I KNOW SHAKESPEARE, YUP. Dude, why are you all surprised by this in your letter? I did not have a "script" for the interview made up with "splashes of improvisation." What does improvisation even mean?? Don't be so indignant. IN-DIG-NOT. We all know I'm pretty freeeaaakin' cool.
PS Yeah, that thing I said about time being a thread was maybe a shout-out to you. Or maybe not!