Oh, but you really got a lot to complain about, Jerome — a father which gave you such a gorgeous name for yourself and then had the gall to write it down on an envelope instead of write on something which it would make him heartsick to even whisper in a closet to himself. Believe me, your father never saw a sonny boy with more to complain about. But don't kid yourself, darling, it's no picnic for me neither, this subject, but so long as it just so happens to be the topic at the moment on the table at the moment, pardon me if your father goes ahead and mentions a few comparisons. Like take, for instance, a certain Mrs. Roth who lives in the building. So tell me, darling, does this particular Mrs. Roth have a relative who is a Philip or is a P.? Or look instead at the Mailer people who got such a nice oceanview on 12. Ask yourself, Jerome, does this family have a second cousin named N. or a second cousin named Norman? The Malamuds on 6, a one-bedroom facing front? So are we talking in this case about a Bernard, are you telling me, or a B.?
Please God, darling, you stopped and took a good look at these questions I just asked you, and answered each and every one of them from the bottom of your heart of hearts. But now we come to your father, Jerome. Do you appreciate what I am saying to you, Jerome, that now we come to your own flesh and blood? Who happens also to be a resident in this building! Who happens also to be a person who has to live with these people! Who happens also to be a human being who has to answer to these animals! And what, pray tell, is the question?
Jerome, the question is, "J.D., Mr. Ess — what, please be so kind as to elucidate, is a J.D.?"
Cutie guy, pay attention — down here in 305 a Saul they heard of, a Philip they heard of, a Norman they heard of, plus ditto, a Bernard! But since when did somebody anywhere in 305 ever hear of a J.D., pray tell? Stop to think, boychik, and tell me when they did. Because in this building this is the question which I your father have to answer to these animals morning, noon, and night! And you know for how many years now? Day in and day out, darling, are you or are you not counting for how many years?
THIS IS WHY I say to you, Jerome, thank God for Gert Pinkowitz. This is why I your father have to say to you thank God for the heartache this woman has got for herself with her own child. Because for your father it is a lesson to see that there are those in the world that got worse than even your father got — even if I wouldn't wish it on my own worst enemy. Because twenty-four hours, Jerome, the woman is in the building only twenty-four hours, and already the gang of them — animals, animals — found better to talk about than morning, noon, and night what is it, what is it, the name of J.D.? But believe me, Jerome, I your father do not wish the woman ill. For Gert Pinkowitz, your father has got nothing in his heart but hearts and flowers. It's just that as a human being I couldn't take it no more — J.D. this and J.D. that, the whole building could not leave your father for one instant in an instant's peace not once! And besides, darling, svelte as Gert Pinkowitz is, the woman, let me tell you, the woman is made of iron.
Of iron, boychik, of iron!
Listen, Jerome, forget Gert Pinkowitz for all of two seconds. Because your father now requires of you, please God, your utmost attention. Cutie fellow, can you give your father please your very utmost? Because it is time for I your father to go down on my hands and knees to you again for me to beg you for you to please reconsider. So are you listening as regards to the subject, Jerome, concerning the question again of reconsideration again?
Jerome, listen to me, where does your father live, which building? Since years and years ago when your father first picked up and moved down here, has he ever for one instant ever resided in a different residential? All right, so tell me, sweetheart, so what would you call this place — a residential like any other residential?
Jerome, don't make me have to remind you.
Sweetheart, we are talking the Seavue Spa Oceanfront Garden Arms and Apartments! So do you need reminding which is your father's residential? Because for how many years now have I been telling you, Jerome? But do you ever listen? Other children listen, Jerome. The Bellow kid, their Saul, he listens. Philip listens, Norman listens — and for your information, so does Bernard! Believe me, Jerome, everybody in here, they got a kid which they can count on to listen — the Krantzes do and so do the Sheldons and the Friedmans and the Elkins and the Wallaces and the Segals and the Wests and the Wallants and the Nemerovs and the Halberstams! And notice that I your father am not even mentioning the Robbins family and their Harold and the Potoks and their Chaim! You think the Wouks don't have a Herman which listens?
The Uris people, their Leon listens.
You heard of the Brodkeys, the Adlers? So tell me, the one's got a boy and the other's got a girl which don't listen?
The Kordas got a Michael, and he listens!
The Apples with their Max, the Michaels people with their Leonard, the Stones with their Irving — every last one of these children, Jerome, is a child which listens!
And did I even get to the Markfields and the Richlers and the Liebowitzes? Ozick, you think this is a girl which does not listen? So answer me — is the child a Cynthia or is she a C.? The Charyns, you heard of the Charyns? So them too, them too, they also got a child which listens — and, pay attention, Jerome, the boy, his name is Jerome and not no J. into the bargain!
Sweetheart, did I even begin to scratch the surface yet as to who's who among the who's who down here in the Seavue Spa Oceanfront Garden Arms and Apartments? But answer me, Jerrychik, is there one single solitary one of these animals which don't have like your father a relative in the literature industry? And, darling, exclusive of the exception of your father and of Mrs. Pinkowitz, tell me, pussycat, if this relative in the family is not a kid which doesn't take to heart what you say to him and listen! Because in the whole building, they every last one of them got what to listen to them — all except your father and Gert Pinkowitz, all except her with her Thomas and me with my J.D., the two big geniuses which would not for one minute, even if you got down on bended knee to them, listen! And look at who your father didn't even discuss yet — not to mention the Millers and the Simons and the Ephrons and the Kosinskis! Do the Paleys got a Grace? Do the Hellers got a Joseph? So tell me, Jerome, the Sontags, they don't got a Susan? So pay attention, are these or aren't these children which listen? — the Olsens with their Tillie, the Blooms with their Harold, the Golds with their Herbert, and the Wieseltier family, didn't I remark to you a wonderful, sweet-natured boy that they got themselves, a lovely Leon? But what else do all of these individuals have which your own personal father don't! Because I will answer you in words of one syllable, Jerome. Because the answer is a child which listens!
JEROME, DARLING, your father is hoarse from sitting here screaming. Even though your father is writing and not talking, Jerome, I promise you, your father feels like he is getting a virus in his throat from sitting here and against his better judgment talking turkey to you. So you will call the Justice Department, I'm sorry, your father, in a manner of speaking, dares to shout. But, pussycat, darling creature, to make himself heard with you, who could go ahead and talk like a civilized individual in a civilized voice? Darling, sonny darling, lean close, open your ears up wide, your father couldn't speak no more in anything above a whisper, this is how much the man is suffering from the damage he had to do on your behalf to his larnyx.