Monday evening (May 7, 56)

Dear Mom:

I probably will have telephoned you before you get this, but I undoubtably [sic] will forget something, so will write anyway. I have quite a bit to say.

Mikado was last weekend, final performance last night. It was just wonderful. Excellent reviews in the papers, on Saturday evening they packed 800 people in Botsford, and still had to turn about 100 away. It was a lot of fun, well worth the two months of hard work. I, unfortunately, have come down with a cold, which I babied all weekend, so that I could sing. I spent the whole weekend in bed, except to go to performances, and the cast party last night, and I spent today in bed.

Do you remember when we talked to young Richard Morgan about Reed? Well, I'm sure that you will be pleased to learn that he was here last weekend, and that he has been awarded a Baker scholarship, which is full tuition, room and board for the full four years. I was very pleased that he got the scholarship, as I am sure that he deserves it.

David Wailes wrote me a few days ago that he and this girl Adrienne are going to be married this June. Well, I do not feel that this is the wisest thing for him to do, but I am not going to say anything, and I certainly hope that they will be happy. They have asked me to usher at their wedding, and I unhesitatingly accepted. I cannot decide what to get them for a gift, I feel that David, at any rate, is close enough friend that I ought to get them something rather nice, perhaps a glass cream and sugar set. What do you think?

Lucy and I are getting along rather well. [...]

We are driving down with a girl named Kit Crosby in her 1954 Chevrolet station wagon, probably leave here sometime on Saturday, 2 June. And should, therefore, arrive name sometime on Sunday, the Third. We may show up in the middle of the night, so you might warn whoever is in the house that if they hear someone around then it is only me. Kit wants to make a relatively quick trip, but doesn't want to drive too fast, so don't worry about that. Her car is in good condition, I have driven it a bit, and I am sure that it is safe. I will probably do the brunt of the driving, as usual.

What sort of arrangements do you plan to make with me and the Harneds? Especially financial. Also what about having dinner guests, both male and female. Do the Harneds mind my drinking beer? Please let me know about these matters, if you want leave a letter at home, so that I know what you have told them about how to take care of me.

My gramophone doesn't work any too well. I may purchase some equipment when I get home, and use it on your system during the summer. What do you plan to do about an amplifier. I am going to see if I can scrape up one for the summer, borrow it, or something. What about Peter's stuff in the garage? Do you think I could rationalize selling selected pieces, and then reinvesting in modern hi-fidelity equipment?

Also, I am going to wait until after my birthday, then may ask Linus to purchase me a Volkswagen, or MG, or something. However, I want to make sure that this is amenable to you before I do it.

I have somewhat decided not to become a chemist. However, I am unable to decide what to do. I think that next year I will take a good number of liberal arts courses, and see how I feel then. Perhaps it is a mistake, I don't know, anyway I don't have to decide what I am going to take until September.

I was looking through the art studio the other day with Lucy, and I came across a bust that looked quite familiar, so I asked Manuel, the art instructor, who the model was, and sure enough, 'twas my sister. I am thinking of trying to get hold of it. It hasn't been finished, and I don't know what they plan to do with it, but I think it is worth getting hold of.

Well, enough. Love and Kisses,

Crellin