Robert Jefferson Travis Pond
is a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. He has been known to remodel train stations on his lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. He translates ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, he writes award-winning operas, he manages time efficiently.
He woos women with his sensuous and godlike trombone playing, he can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and he can cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. He is an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.
He is an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over his original line of corduroy evening wear. He doesn't perspire. He is a private citizen, yet he receives fan mail. He has been caller number nine and has won the weekend passes. Last fall he toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal- force demonstration. Children trust him.
He balances, he weaves, he dodges, he frolics, and his bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, he participates in full-contact origami. Years ago he discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down.