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Considerations | BTL SRVC LXXI

Via Issue 198, Can't Let Go

Written by

Bill DiDonna

Photographed by

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Styled by

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Thirty-five years ago, Boston’s Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum endured in the art world’s largest heist, a 500 million dollar mystery that remains unsolved today. Now, the museum offers a 10 million dollar reward and guaranteed confidentiality to anyone who submits information resulting in the return of the artworks, those of which are seen in the final pages of the ‘Can’t Let Go’ issue. The Isabella Gardner Museum remains hopeful that one day the works will again live on the walls of which they were taken, a sentiment that reminds us that in all of life’s catch and release, some things are worth holding out for. 

Pictured: Edgar Degas. “Three Mounted Jockeys (Jockey à cheval)” (about 1885 – 1888). black ink, white, flesh and rose washes, oil pigments on brown paper. Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Boston.

Creg tossed the cigarette on the ground, but made no attempt to rub it out despite the heat and general lack of humidity. I guess since there wasn’t a single combustible thing within eyesight, nothing but windswept hardpack with the long dormant volcanoes in the distance, we felt pretty safe. We were in the Great Altar Desert in Sonora, Mexico and we were in a spot of trouble. Once we got a hold of the bottle, we only had to drive to San Luis, cross the border and disappear. Sadly the Malaysian had excellent security and we barely managed to get out of the car before the rocket blew it to bits. If Creg hadn’t seen the laser direction-finder reflected in the rearview, we would be tiny little scraps of men scattered across the landscape. I assessed the situation with him.

We have the bottle, we have our passports, wallets, and shoes. Conversely, we are in the middle of nowhere and very bad men are looking for us.

Don’t sell skin until you’ve caught the bear.

Thank you Creg, that was helpful. We can’t go back to the highway. If we head south, there’s the gulf road. Probably about a 15 or 20 mile walk. No cover, but if we make it, we can go either East or West and find a bus or something. Head right for Mexicali and get across the border.

My story isn’t pleasant, it is not sweet and fanciful, like so many invented stories. Mine is full of madness, mistakes, and melancholy told by someone who no longer wishes to lie to themselves. 

Creg was clearly losing it. Who quotes Hesse, especially under these circumstances?

Maybe I should ditch him, but he’s the one who knows the client. Two hundred large to liberate this Tequila bottle and get it to Vegas. I guess I have to stick with him for now, but am worried about his mental state.

Hey buddy, let’s get on the trail, there’s no point in sitting here waiting to get found, am I right?

Some of us think holding on makes us strong but sometimes it is letting go.

What’s with all the Hesse, wasn’t he like a Buddhist pre-Hippie? I was weighing the clay bottle in my hand. I understood that it was likely the oldest bottle of Tequila in existence, late 16th century, predating the Spanish arrival. Most people think the Spaniards brought distillation to Mexico first, but it was the Filipinos coming across the Pacific. They got the art of distillation from the Mongolians and brought it to Jalisco in the 1500s while the Spaniards were still slogging west from the Gulf of Who Knows. 

Creg, it’s really time to get a move on amigo.

Everything becomes a little different when spoken out loud.

I stood over him and took aim. It probably won’t kill him, and I can hoof it to the southern road and be far away before he wakes up. Wait, is he quoting or paraphrasing? Its been so long since I read Siddartha. Regardless, Creg is too wrapped up in self-discovery and spirituality to make it out of Mexico in one piece. Maybe a good cosh in the noggin will do him a world of good. Yes, it is definitely better this way. 

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Considerations, Issue 198, Can't Let Go, BTL SRVC LXXI, Bill DiDonna
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