I have had a great deal of trouble with this page. More than a man who has made his living with words should have. But it has been trouble nonetheless. I was able to get partially past the trouble when I recalled Faulkner and his admission to his aunt regarding her question about being drunk when he wrote his books - "no, not always." With that in mind: I assume there are those of you who are reading this with a great of skepticism already in place. In other words you want to be convinced. Well, I admit there was a time, not very long ago, when I was very concerned with that possibility. When I was acutely tuned to what people were going to feel about what I was going to present to them. That concern has passed away and died a necessary death. So, The following pages explain how it began and what he said; everything he said - meaning I recorded every word, even those that strayed from the subject and were just between the two of us, or, at times, just his observations on the present, without concern for the past. Every word has been transcribed exactly, nothing left out, nothing changed, no edits for whatever insane reason some one would have about knowing better than the person who said it, what that person actually said or meant. My interruptions, questions, I tried to keep to a minimum. They too are exactly as said. I'm sure there will be those who will attack everything that follows. Mostly they'll do that because they're certain they know more than anyone else about everything else. And because they're certain they're the gifted ones whose purpose in being alive is to guide the less gifted. If you don't know anyone like that, you haven't lived life either very long or very deeply. Or both. I suspect I'll get lost as quickly as I can once this is released, and try to drift into a hazy obscurity for a while. There are few other alternatives for a maniac seeking to avoid a head-on collision with idiocy. So, don't bother with the cards and letters, I really have no interest in answering them.