Chuck Jones’ letters to his daughter, Linda

Post #24

Thursday, October 23, 52

Dear Linda;

Don’t know how far I’ll get with today’s note as Friz [Freleng] is going to have a story session on a gopher picture and the summons from on high will come without warning.  So, if I stop in the middle of a sentence, it will mean I have departed in fear and trembling.

Just finished four sketches for some of my moppet correspondents.  The system of having them write before I draw works very well.  The long and short of it is that only about one in three writes, so it cuts down my drawing considerably.  I’m always glad to do it, but it’s good practice to teach a child to do something for value received.  So we’re all happy.


Story session all complete.  ‘Twas a good day for me: I contributed several pieces of usable business.  It usually works out that way.  One of us is generally hot and sort of leads the way for that day.  Another day, another one catches fire and so on.  Why so?  Why not all steaming on the same day?  I dunno.  Something to do with the law of averages I suppose.  But, how does the law know?  A few years ago in the New Yorker there was a short story about what happened when the law of averages broke down.  It was first noticed when everybody on Manhattan Island tried to get across the Brooklyn Bridge at one time.  All other bridges were deserted.  Then certain movie houses and restaurants were swamped with lines blocks long waiting, while others playing the same bills or with the same menus were utterly without patronage.  Weird idea, hm?  But somehow kind of logical.

Russell Jones, the janitor, just dropped in to empty the waste-paper baskets.  I told him I was writing to you and he sends you the following message:  “I hope you are well and happy and be sure to come home for Christmas.”  He is a wonderful man and has always been intensely fond of you, a fondness I can appreciate because I share it.

Benny [Washam] and Dave Hannah, the two noisiest men in the unit declared a silence pact today.  They are not speaking to anyone within the unit.  The quiet has been deafening.  To understand this, you must understand that I have often had to close my door to shut out the violent bellowing arguments that rocket across the corridor, a good fifty feet away.  When these lads tee off on a discussion (!) they drag everyone in the room into it in the same way that a cyclone sweeps up the innocent bystander.  Boy, how the stuff flies!  It matters little what the subject, anything at all is sufficient reason to start a hassle.


Daddy or Chuck…whichever you prefer

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