performed smiling directly at us as tho they knew all about George and his theories about erogenous Buddha (there sits the monarch observing the donzinggerls) and as tho they knew anyway all about Dave Wain who whenever he sees a beautiful girl says licking his lips “Yum Yum.”. . .
But now George has T.B. and they tell me he may even die—Which adds to that darkness in my mind, all these DEATH things piling up suddenly—But I cant believe old Zen Master George is going to allow his body to die just now tho it looks like it when we pass through the lawn and come to a ward of beds and see him sitting dejected on the edge of his bed with his hair hanging over his brow where before it was always combed back—He’s in a bathrobe and looks up at us almost displeased (but everybody is displeased by unexpected visits from friends or relatives in a hospital)—Nobody wants to be surprised on their hospital bed—He sighs and comes out to the warm lawn with us and the expression on his face says “Well ah so you've come to see me because I’m sick but what do you really want?” as tho all the old humorous courage of the year before has now given away to a profoundly deep Japanese skepticism like that of a Samurai warrior in a fit of suicidal depression (surprising me by its abject gloomy fearful frown).
