I'm sure Mr. Wilson will not remember this, but the evening I had
dinner with him in Cambridge, Massachusetts was one of the most
interesting dining experiences I've had.
My own meal was not that memorable, but it was quite tasty; my
usual batch of side-orders, rice, refried beans and corn tortillas, with
plenty of salsa. Very filling and economical.
What made it so interesting, besides Mr. Wilson's usual
scintillating... er... monologue (one could hardly call it a conversation
when one person is doing all of the talking, even while choking down huge
mouthsful of food), was the fact that he was, by his own request, tied to
his chair with his hands behind him, naked but for a big diaper and baby
bonnet. He was served a meal of liver and onions, lima beans, tomato
aspic, three-bean salad with lots of vinegar, and candied yams with
miniature marshmallows melting on top. Since he was fairly well
immobilized he had to eat by sort of mashing his face down into the plate
and gobbling up big mouthsful of this stuff which soon became a really
horrible looking muck which covered most of his face. Oh, I forgot to
say that he was wearing a tiny little bib, too, which did little to
protect his protruding gut and big saggy breasts from the globs of mashed
goop which fell off his face. Yet, the whole time he was putting forth
some of the most brilliant, inspiring, and truly enlightening concepts I
have ever heard.
What's unfortunate is that the bizarre circumstances of the meal
have wiped the content of his talk from my memory, and all I can remember
is weird images of various hunks of food clinging to his face, like a lima
bean stuck to the center of his forehead as a strange third eye as he
lifted his head from his plate, gobbling and chewing an enormous wad of
food which pushed his cheeks out like a chipmunk, talking and talking,
occasionally choking, but still talking brilliantly and endlessly on.
Stranger than Fiction,
-N-
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Original file name: My dinner with R. A. Wilson
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