{"id":"01KG6FHT9M6F17GJMKDZD1BE1T","cid":"bafkreiga54oqqj2artpofrzb3ymc3hderuyenzspm2wyjdo6fmdvvvpouu","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreidtqgy5cl7fcqlgr2cavfwbubsztxhkqln4twwl3xeh4q3ssvyk5u","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"Rye_page_0066.jpg","height":2400,"key":"pdf-page-1769744163163-pldpa5mi1xf","label":"Rye_page_0066.jpg","page_number":66,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":735069,"text":"I took my old hunting hat out of my pocket while I walked, and put it on. I knew I\nwouldn't meet anybody that knew me, and it was pretty damp out. I kept walking and\nwalking, and I kept thinking about old Phoebe going to that museum on Saturdays the\nway I used to. I thought how she'd see the same stuff I used to see, and how she'd be\ndifferent every time she saw it. It didn't exactly depress me to think about it, but it didn't\nmake me feel gay as hell, either. Certain things they should stay the way they are. You\nought to be able to stick them in one of those big glass cases and just leave them alone. I\nknow that's impossible, but it's too bad anyway. Anyway, I kept thinking about all that\nwhile I walked.\nI passed by this playground and stopped and watched a couple of very tiny kids\non a seesaw. One of them was sort of fat, and I put my hand on the skinny kid's end, to\nsort of even up the weight, but you could tell they didn't want me around, so I let them\nalone.\nThen a funny thing happened. When I got to the museum, all of a sudden I\nwouldn't have gone inside for a million bucks. It just didn't appeal to me--and here I'd\nwalked through the whole goddam park and looked forward to it and all. If Phoebe'd been\nthere, I probably would have, but she wasn't. So all I did, in front of the museum, was get\na cab and go down to the Biltmore. I didn't feel much like going. I'd made that damn date\nwith Sally, though.\n17\nI was way early when I got there, so I just sat down on one of those leather\ncouches right near the clock in the lobby and watched the girls. A lot of schools were\nhome for vacation already, and there were about a million girls sitting and standing\naround waiting for their dates to show up. Girls with their legs crossed, girls with their\nlegs not crossed, girls with terrific legs, girls with lousy legs, girls that looked like swell\ngirls, girls that looked like they'd be bitches if you knew them. It was really nice\nsightseeing, if you know what I mean. In a way, it was sort of depressing, too, because\nyou kept wondering what the hell would happen to all of them. When they got out of\nschool and college, I mean. You figured most of them would probably marry dopey guys.\nGuys that always talk about how many miles they get to a gallon in their goddam cars.\nGuys that get sore and childish as hell if you beat them at golf, or even just some stupid\ngame like ping-pong. Guys that are very mean. Guys that never read books. Guys that are\nvery boring--But I have to be careful about that. I mean about calling certain guys bores. I\ndon't understand boring guys. I really don't. When I was at Elkton Hills, I roomed for\nabout two months with this boy, Harris Mackim. He was very intelligent and all, but he\nwas one of the biggest bores I ever met. He had one of these very raspy voices, and he\nnever stopped talking, practically. He never stopped talking, and what was awful was, he\nnever said anything you wanted to hear in the first place. But he could do one thing. The\nsonuvabitch could whistle better than anybody I ever heard. He'd be making his bed, or\nhanging up stuff in the closet--he was always hanging up stuff in the closet--it drove me\ncrazy--and he'd be whistling while he did it, if he wasn't talking in this raspy voice. He\ncould even whistle classical stuff, but most of the time he just whistled jazz. He could\ntake something very jazzy, like \"Tin Roof Blues,\" and whistle it so nice and easy--right","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:36:03.163Z","text_extracted_by":"pdf-processor","text_has_content":true,"text_source":"born_digital","uploaded":true,"width":1855},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KFHMJM2J9JHQAQM1Q9SKBJWF","predicate":"derived_from"},{"peer":"01KFF1K6A8V452X8SQKY55DD16","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6FHSKN8Z2HSD371X8X4AGX","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6FHT9SXE8MTA7H65B7183M","predicate":"next"},{"peer":"01KG6FM3MC8H1PNTYFXGEN2V1A","peer_label":"Rye_page_0066_medium.jpg","peer_type":"file","predicate":"has_derivative"},{"peer":"01KG6FM8Q9C7HQVNKDDZB76MJF","peer_label":"Rye_page_0066_thumb.jpg","peer_type":"file","predicate":"has_derivative"},{"peer":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","predicate":"has_assembly"}],"ver":6,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:36:05.172Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:40:41.692Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFFC4A8W8939TXGEXCK439ZK"}}