ALS signed “XXXXX J,” seven pages, 5.75 x 7.75, September 14 [envelope postmarked Port Arthur, Texas, September 16, 1965]. Joplin writes to her boyfriend, Peter de Blanc, who was then in Beth Israel Hospital in New York City. In part: “I got two more letters today—the ones you wrote Sunday. How very like you—no letter for almost 2 weeks, and then 5 in two days. Oh well, I guess I’m doomed never to enjoy constancy…. What’s this about you were going to leave the hospital? Oh Jesus damn, Peter, I can’t believe you’d be so silly!… Oh, and don’t worry about me singing & getting involved. The two have absolutely nothing to do w/one another. And I’m not ‘going out & having fun!’ I think I could safely say that I don’t even want to ‘have fun.’ Fun isn’t what I want these days. Strange, I never thought I’d ever say that. I’m one of those old-fashioned, thrill crazy kids, you know, or at least I was. I never could see any value or anything to be sought after in anything except fun—& now dig me. I’ve got better things to do than fun. Fun is a drag! Strange…. And there’s nobody around here that I could get involved with. One of the few boys I’ve met around here was an Aquarius & I just said forget it! Besides, we’re both at a pretty odd place—we each need someone who values the ‘true’ values that we have reaffirmed but neither of us could make it w/someone who knew nothing except those values. I mean, we’ve been out & back & couldn’t really make it w/someone who had never been anywhere. So, let’s face it, baby, you’re stuck w/me! Ain’t nobody else been there & back!… This evening Dad is taking Philip, Diane, & I out to the country club for dinner to celebrate my going back to school. And I am really ready to celebrate. I’m so glad to be going back. This two weeks’ vacation has been driving me crazy! My old Republican mother is really right—inactivity is one of the most destructive things going…. [Joplin continues “later that evening.”] We just got back from dinner at the country club…. We had a drink before (I still get strange pains in my lower left side when I drink but my doctor didn’t feel there was anything wrong w/me)…. I had on my new dress that I described in last night’s letter & I looked very nice…. It was nice of you to let me in on a little in-type New York gossip, all about ole Bobbie Zimmerman [i.e., Bob Dylan] & Susie whatsername [Susan Rotolo, Dylan’s girlfriend who famously appeared with him on the album jacket of The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan] but how did you know? Where in the world did you see Susie? (Isn’t that the name of a song or something [Joplin adding five musical notes] Where in the world did you see Susie tra la)…. You ain’t been steppin’ out, have you? Please tell me where you’ve been running into the ‘in’ New York meth freaks? And while I’m on the subject … could you possibly curtail references to meth freaks, junkies, etc? I don’t want to stilt your letters & I don’t mean to say that any reasonable reference in context is objectionable, but couldn’t we please just be ordinary type happy people? For some reason, finding words like that, even thoughts like that in the things we are writing seems incongruous. I guess because I feel so removed. I don’t really mean to carry on this much about it…. Don’t get upset because you’re stuck in the hospital up there. When you look at it objectively, it is better that I am home while you’re getting set….” Accompanied by the original mailing envelope addressed in Joplin’s hand. Faint water spots to top portion last page (resulting in mild wrinkling and slight blurring about ten words of text), otherwise fine, clean condition. COA Roger Epperson/REAL and R&R COA.
