Hello, firm. Heh. Ray asks if this will take long. John begins by saying he used to race ponies at state fairs when he was a kid. He doesn't remember the outcome of the races, but he remembers talking with competitors and farmhands afterwards, and laughing. These are two things we should always remember: riding a bike, and laughter. So when John sees the firm, he sees the bike-riding people, but the smiles only come from "the leather interior of a new car. What's happened here?" Do they only dream of ocean-front property? So, John left "this world of things" and went back to the state fairgrounds, trying "to remember to rejoice in the simple company of others." And here, at the firm, is where to find that. Nothing more complicated than that. Could it be more complicated than Ally's horizontally-striped turtleneck and houndstooth pant combo? No? Good. Carry on.
El Shrinkador cries when Ally relays John's speech. It's profound, he says. Should I love John Cage, asks Ally? If you have to ask, no. No, you shouldn't. But the shrink plunges ahead. Three criteria exist to answer that question: kids, fireside conversation, and "suckling whipped cream out of the cuppeth of your navel." Ally feels fine about the first two, not so on the last. So, what does Ally think of when the phone rings? Larry. So, there you go.