Friday Night at the Methodist Men's Club

Friday, December 2, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

I’m writing this letter even though I may see you before you get it.  If the weather’s bad and I don’t make it, you’ll still get mail anyway.

I just got home from the Methodist Men’s Club a little while ago.  It was a very nice meeting and dinner.  Your minister, Mr. Boyle, was the speaker.  Didn’t stop down street afterward either. I’m planning to take it easy Saturday night too because I want to get off early Sunday.  So far none of the boys know I’m going.

I’m going to make this a short letter.  If I don’t see you Sunday, I’ll phone anyway.  Sorry I’ve been so vague about the weekend.  If I decide definitely to go, I’ll come rain, snow, or earthquake.  So long now, be good, and finish your homework before Sunday please!

                                       Lots of love,

                                       Art

(Tomorrow – an unsent letter from June.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Love (even a kiss or two)

Friday, December 2, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

This will be a short letter – Shirl’s sister is here, three in this room is crowded, and I’m sleepy anyway.  I just can’t think and write when others talk.

I got another letter from you.  It’s nice to hear you did some artwork.

Instead of getting up at 7:30 tomorrow morning Shirl wants to get up at 9.  Do you know what she does?  The clock’s set for 7:30 so she leaves it that way and sets the

Drawings by
June Anderson.

clock time back half an hour.  She says she’s afraid to trick the alarm – it’s set just right.

It would be wonderful to see you before Christmas vacation, but I won’t plan on anything.  At least we get 2 weeks for Christmas.

Love, (even a kiss or two)

June

(Tonight – the Methodist Men's Club dinner.)

                             © 2010 Lee Price

A Full Moon Going to Waste

Thursday, December 1, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

Flower drawings, colored pencil, by Art Price.

Another swell letter today.  You sound pretty satisfied with yourself.  I’m glad you’re making progress with your room and am looking forward to seeing big improvements this weekend.  So what if the drapes are crooked, if you don’t mind them?

My sister got back to college all right.  She phoned Monday night but we haven’t heard from her since.  I guess she’s like you as far as writing her parents goes.

Had a pretty busy day today taking inventory.  The boss is back and Joe’s out of a job again.  I did a little artwork and some reading this evening.

Don’t worry about me.  My car is all set, raring to go.  I got it greased, oil changed, tanks filled, etc. today.  I haven’t had a drink since our Saturday date and you know I don’t drive fast.  As for the beautiful girls, I hope to see a real special one this weekend.

Lots of love,

Art

P.S.  The moon’s almost full.  Just going to waste, tch, tch!

(Tomorrow – Shirl's alarm clock trick.)

© 2010 Lee Price

June with a Silly Grin

Thursday, December 1, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Shirl just looked over this way and exclaimed, “June, you have an awful silly grin on your face.  You’re not writing to Art by any chance, are you?”

We just hung the curtains.  Shirl told me to tear them instead of cutting them, and then just sew hems on them.  So that’s what I did.  How were we to know they would tear on a diagonal instead of straight?  They are unbelievably crooked.  We sat down and had a good laugh.  Anyway, they are nice and cheerful and clean.

She’s ironing the bedspread now.  Then we’ll sit down for half an hour to admire the work.  After that homework.  I have to wash my hair tonight too.

Oh, Art, I have bad news.  At least it’s bad news to me.  Our Christmas vacation doesn’t start till the 20^th which is on a Tuesday.  That means I probably won’t come home until Wednesday night.  Then we go back January 4^th.  That means I won’t see you for three whole weekends in December.  I’m mad at the school.  I don’t think I’ll ever forgive Miss Traphagen!  It is a long time, isn’t it?  But I can’t go home.  My father and mother don’t expect me and it costs money.  Everyone would know I’d be coming home just to see you.  So here I shall stay, but I certainly miss my nights out.  That will be especially true over the weekend.

Shirl’s sister Evie comes tomorrow, so that means no getting homework done for awhile.  I’d better accomplish something tonight.  Be good.

All my love,

June

(Tonight – greased, oil changed, and raring to go.)

© 2010 Lee Price

Write Lots of Letters

Wednesday, November 30, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

I’m going to keep right on writing even though I might see you this weekend.  Nothing’s certain.  I’ve just about decided to come in Sunday morning instead of Saturday after work.  I wouldn’t get there till 10.  I wouldn’t want to keep you out too late and then I’d have to find a hotel for the rest of the night, so I guess early Sunday morning would be better.

I went to bed about 11:30 last night and got up 11:30 this morning, twelve hours sleep.  How do you like that?  Did a few errands for my mother then worked the rest of the afternoon on my course.

Laurence Olivier and Jean Simmons in Hamlet (1948).

I saw Hamlet tonight.  You know what it was like.  As you would say, I can’t decide if I liked it or not.  It was a good picture though.

It’s too bad about your drapes.  I can’t figure out how it could happen.  You should have made them too long instead.  They would have been easier to fix.

The boss comes back tomorrow from his vacation so we have to take inventory.  Be good now and write lots of letters.

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – vacation postponed.)

© 2010 Lee Price

The Drapes Are Crooked

Wednesday, November 30, 1949

46 West 83rd Street, Apt. 7B

New York City

Dear Art,

Shirl and I are real proud of our progress with this room.  We’re halfway finished covering that terribly dirty chair – or maybe I should say Shirl is.  Really, the girl is doing a fine job on it (between the mistakes and laughs).  I ran up the drapes last night after writing to you.  They are going to be real crooked.  I’m sorry I can’t blame it on astigmatism as Shirl does.  Now tonight we are starting on the couch cover.  I can’t wait.  In fact, Shirl and I are both awfully impatient.  That’s why the sewing job will be awful, but we’ll still be proud.  The whole room will look more cheerful.  Then we’ll need a rug and ivy instead of that picture – but that will have to come later.  At any rate, you won’t recognize the room next time you see it – we hope!

Fabric textures
by
June Anderson.

Shirl just turned on the radio.  Guess what?  Jack Armstrong, the All-American Boy*!

Shirl’s sister is coming out Thursday night (we will probably go to the movies that night) and staying till Saturday.  She has to buy some clothes and wants Shirl’s advice.

By the way, are you behaving yourself?  Not driving too fast, drinking too much, and running around with too beautiful girls?  I’m not really nagging you, just teasing a bit but also hoping you’re not.  Don’t forget to go and see Hamlet.

Tomorrow I am going to walk into this room and there – lo and behold!  A great big fat letter from a real nice guy named Art.  And you know what?  It’s so anxious to be read it just jumps right in my arms.  I can daydream, can’t I?  Only tomorrow I hope it will be fact instead of fiction.  Remember, I miss you.  Please make my dream come true.

                                                     All my love,

                                                     June

* Click "Play" on the old-time radio on the link for a sampling of Jack Armstrong.

(Tonight – Art's plans for the weekend.)

© 2010 Lee Price

I Could Never Go Three Weeks...

Tuesday, November 29, 1949

20 Cooper St.

Southampton, NY

Dear June:

Oil painting of a view at sea by Art Price.

I stayed home tonight, didn’t budge out of the house, and got a little artwork done.  I don’t know how it is there in the city but we’re having awful weather, rain yesterday and today.  I hope it clears up before the weekend.  I don’t know what I’ll do tomorrow, maybe paint a little.  It’s too cold and wet out to wash or wax my car.

Have you heard anything from your old pal Jane?  She must be in with Mary and Helen by now?

Right now my mother’s sitting here playing solitaire.  I think I’ll hit the rack now – get lots of sleep this week to be ready for the weekend.

Don’t make any dates for Saturday night.  I’ll be there if possible!  I could never go three whole weeks without seeing you.  Good night for now,

Lots of love,

Art

(Tomorrow – more drapery problems.)

© 2010 Lee Price