******************
August 1989: Letter 1
******************
Dear Mom,
I can't believe two years have gone by so fast. Benny's decided to subdue to Mr. Coffin's wishes and go to business school. He's enrolled at NYU next semester, which means he's moving back to New York. I've been invited to come along and frankly, I accepted. The truth is, I've had just about enough of college's excuse for a film program. How can you produce something worthwhile when you're limited to your professor's opinion and not allowed complete creative freedom? I mean seriously, if this is how it is supposed to be, then there should be no such thing as `art'.
Tell dad `hi' for me and that I'm sorry if I've disappointed him again. I'll send you another letter with all the specifics when we're settled.
Love,
Mark
************
Coming Home
************
"New York City. I can't believe it."
"You sound like a broken record, you know," I gruffly retorted over my shoulder. "You said that the minute we got off the plane." Mark had a tendency to repeat himself...and I had a tendency to point that detail out. I leaned down to the taxi window to pay the driver.
"Well it's just so fucking unbelievable...you do so much to get out of a place, only to end up right back where you started." Mark adjusted his glasses and took in a deep breath. "So when you said shit-hole, you really meant it, didn't you?"
I glanced up at the old rundown quasi-apartment building that I had intended to call home. "Well, it's not like there's too many choices you know. I need to put myself through school while supporting a college dropout." I smirked at Mark, but he appeared to brush it off like nothing.
"So I'll get a job. I can take a hint." He picked up his luggage while I fiddled for the key. Frankly I was surprised he had gone through two years of college. He was one of those kids whose sole reason for going was because `it's what you're supposed to do after high school'. Just playing the game I guess.
"The buzzer for the door doesn't work, so we'll just have to throw the key down to each other from the window until I get a spare made." Mark looked at me like I was insane. "Unless you want to walk down and back up the stairs to let each other in. I hope you've been taking your vitamins," I teased, "We've got the honeymoon suite - top floor."
*************
The Apartment
*************
"I never realized how out of shape I was until this moment," Mark huffed. "It didn't look that tall from outside." He dropped his bags in a pile on the floor and slowly panned the room, which didn't take very long, given that there wasn't much room to pan. It wasn't much, but it was going to have to do. I wasn't given much financial aid or input when it came to finding us a place to stay. And I wasn't about to ask for help from my parents. What did I know about real estate anyway? "Okay. That's it then." I could tell Mark wasn't very impressed, but he was going to have to deal. "Where's the bathroom?"
"It's through that door," I pointed to the door directly next to us. "There's a toilet and a sink. The shower's over there by the kitchen."
"Wait, shouldn't that be in the bathroom?" I couldn't help but snicker at Mark. That was exactly what I thought when I picked the place.
"This used to be a music publishing factory. Factories don't have showers, or kitchens for that matter. They were added later. It's not like we need the excessive privacy anyway. We grew up together and all. It's cheap, that's what matters." He should be happy that we even had rooms. Well technically they used to be offices, but it wasn't a big deal. First thing first was to find a refrigerator.
"Umm, sure. As long as it has a curtain, I guess." With that, Mark trotted off to the broom-closet of a bathroom.
*********************
November 1989: Letter 2
*********************
Dear Mom,
It's been a few months and we finally pretty much have the apartment settled in. It's a bit below our usual standard of living but we'll make due. After all, we are young, newly born twenty-somethings with our whole life ahead of us. At least that's what people say.
Benny's been going to classes at NYU and I've been working a few odd jobs so I don't have to completely depend on the money you send me for bills and stuff. We may even be getting a new roommate, which will help cut costs a little. Benny met a really nice grad student at the university that's looking for a place. His name is Tom but he keeps insisting that we call him Collins. At first I thought it was a joke because all I could think of was the drink...no mom, I haven't been drinking.
I've started working on a video project. Benny probably supports yours and dad's view that I'm crazy, but I have faith in it. We'll see where it goes. I'll send you our phone number once we set-up a phone line. Hope all is well at home.
Love,
Mark
August 1989: Letter 1
******************
Dear Mom,
I can't believe two years have gone by so fast. Benny's decided to subdue to Mr. Coffin's wishes and go to business school. He's enrolled at NYU next semester, which means he's moving back to New York. I've been invited to come along and frankly, I accepted. The truth is, I've had just about enough of college's excuse for a film program. How can you produce something worthwhile when you're limited to your professor's opinion and not allowed complete creative freedom? I mean seriously, if this is how it is supposed to be, then there should be no such thing as `art'.
Tell dad `hi' for me and that I'm sorry if I've disappointed him again. I'll send you another letter with all the specifics when we're settled.
Love,
Mark
************
Coming Home
************
"New York City. I can't believe it."
"You sound like a broken record, you know," I gruffly retorted over my shoulder. "You said that the minute we got off the plane." Mark had a tendency to repeat himself...and I had a tendency to point that detail out. I leaned down to the taxi window to pay the driver.
"Well it's just so fucking unbelievable...you do so much to get out of a place, only to end up right back where you started." Mark adjusted his glasses and took in a deep breath. "So when you said shit-hole, you really meant it, didn't you?"
I glanced up at the old rundown quasi-apartment building that I had intended to call home. "Well, it's not like there's too many choices you know. I need to put myself through school while supporting a college dropout." I smirked at Mark, but he appeared to brush it off like nothing.
"So I'll get a job. I can take a hint." He picked up his luggage while I fiddled for the key. Frankly I was surprised he had gone through two years of college. He was one of those kids whose sole reason for going was because `it's what you're supposed to do after high school'. Just playing the game I guess.
"The buzzer for the door doesn't work, so we'll just have to throw the key down to each other from the window until I get a spare made." Mark looked at me like I was insane. "Unless you want to walk down and back up the stairs to let each other in. I hope you've been taking your vitamins," I teased, "We've got the honeymoon suite - top floor."
*************
The Apartment
*************
"I never realized how out of shape I was until this moment," Mark huffed. "It didn't look that tall from outside." He dropped his bags in a pile on the floor and slowly panned the room, which didn't take very long, given that there wasn't much room to pan. It wasn't much, but it was going to have to do. I wasn't given much financial aid or input when it came to finding us a place to stay. And I wasn't about to ask for help from my parents. What did I know about real estate anyway? "Okay. That's it then." I could tell Mark wasn't very impressed, but he was going to have to deal. "Where's the bathroom?"
"It's through that door," I pointed to the door directly next to us. "There's a toilet and a sink. The shower's over there by the kitchen."
"Wait, shouldn't that be in the bathroom?" I couldn't help but snicker at Mark. That was exactly what I thought when I picked the place.
"This used to be a music publishing factory. Factories don't have showers, or kitchens for that matter. They were added later. It's not like we need the excessive privacy anyway. We grew up together and all. It's cheap, that's what matters." He should be happy that we even had rooms. Well technically they used to be offices, but it wasn't a big deal. First thing first was to find a refrigerator.
"Umm, sure. As long as it has a curtain, I guess." With that, Mark trotted off to the broom-closet of a bathroom.
*********************
November 1989: Letter 2
*********************
Dear Mom,
It's been a few months and we finally pretty much have the apartment settled in. It's a bit below our usual standard of living but we'll make due. After all, we are young, newly born twenty-somethings with our whole life ahead of us. At least that's what people say.
Benny's been going to classes at NYU and I've been working a few odd jobs so I don't have to completely depend on the money you send me for bills and stuff. We may even be getting a new roommate, which will help cut costs a little. Benny met a really nice grad student at the university that's looking for a place. His name is Tom but he keeps insisting that we call him Collins. At first I thought it was a joke because all I could think of was the drink...no mom, I haven't been drinking.
I've started working on a video project. Benny probably supports yours and dad's view that I'm crazy, but I have faith in it. We'll see where it goes. I'll send you our phone number once we set-up a phone line. Hope all is well at home.
Love,
Mark