Letters to Bizzy:

"Now Miss Alice what do intend on doing with this here Aqua Lung?”

“Salvage Johnny Joe, salvage. Just off-shore within eyesight of where we’re standing is the graveyard of the Atlantic, littered with shipwrecks going back to early 1700’s. Some of them are worthless, some of them contain curiosities from another time, and some of them. Well, some of them contain enough pickings to buy us New York, Paris, and still have change left over for a cup of coffee.”

Miss Alice had been born in mid 1800’s and was now on the shady side of the mountain, the downhill run to eternity. I guessed she had to be 88 if my reckoning was accurate.

“Miss Alice, I may be out of turn to say this, but don’t you think you’re a might old for this scuba adventure. Just the tanks alone weigh nearly 80 pounds. If you put them on, you’ll fold like a deck of cards.”

“Don’t be a damn fool! I have no intention of putting all this machinery on, or going underwater.”

“You don’t?”

“No. You are.” 

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