A friend calls, says, “Bartleby the Scrivener” is a “one trick pony”–and this is a compliment. I throw a log on the fire: “Heart of Darkness” is also a one trick pony. Then I tell my pal a dirty joke having to do with the tricks a lawyer’s dog can do. Just two old friends on the phone, both laughing at the sheer improbability of being sentient, upright beings when the evolutionary numbers are against us. We suspect we won’t come back in these forms. We talk about a man who drowned this week while trying to save his buddy who couldn’t swim–this man saved his friend and died in the process. There is such sweetness behind each unassuming human gesture. One trick pony. I felt like weeping in the middle of the afternoon. Took my dog for a walk in the New Hampshire woods. A single Phoebe was calling from a stand of birches.
The pony comes out of the trees, his single trick? He wants to be one of us.