Burrell, if that came through I would gladly eat my "woo" comment, sans ketchup.

but there's a completely non-woo, in fact pretty cool, experimental cancer treatment that uses light to destroy the cancer cells. I keep reading about it

If you tell me this is because God created light first, and that we have to transition away from pharmacology because one person owns all of big pharma (seems the Rockefellers and the Clintons and the Bushes all report up to this person) and medicines will no longer work as of September or so (I'm assuming I can ask for a new nurse with zero repercussion or shame then) I'm afraid I do need to write you off too. If it's just that electromagnetic radiation is a form of treatment, then it's no biggie, that's been in use for a while and I'm sure there will continue to be developments on that front.

A lovely blog post about Sinbad and Me.

The second in the series, and surely a book that helped save my life and shape my future, is Platt’s masterpiece, Sinbad and Me. It’s the story of Steve’s twelfth summer when, having flunked math and facing summer school, persuades his folks to let him stay on in the house on the outer shore of Long Island, in company with his English bulldog Sinbad (easily in the running for the greatest name dog name ever). Left to their own devices, Sinbad and Steve find themselves in all kind of hot water: nearly drowning in an undertow trying to get into a locked summer home; investigated by both the FBI, the Mob, and Steve’s summer science teacher; and yet Platt still finds time for fascinating (to a young teen) plot eddies into numismatism, pirates, immigration history, the background and personality of bulldogs, and the architecture of Long Island (Steve is an architecture buff and first bonds with his science teacher because of Steve’s wonderfully engaging conversation about the eras of American architecture).

Sinbad was an important book for me, at the time I encountered it, for all kinds of reasons: it was about a kid my age who wasn’t sure what he was going to do with his life but had been left alone for a summer to figure it out, who knew he was attracted to smart funny girls but had no idea what to do about it, whose best friend was a nerd but who Steve freely acknowledged was three times smarter than himself, who would look out for the old immigrant lady who years before had saved Sinbad from poisoning, who knew he was smart himself and knew that some adults (and some of his contemporaries) were idiots—and sometimes got into trouble for acknowledging that he knew it, and who, when the chips were down, was going to stand up for himself, his friends, and his own growing sense of himself. It’s a wonderful, wonderful book, and was immensely important for me (and, I’d guess, several generations of boys-turning-into-men). It gave me the ability to articulate the kind of person I wanted to be, and it provided a template I could try to live up to.

If you tell me this is because God created light first, and that we have to transition away from pharmacology because one person owns all of big pharma (seems the Rockefellers and the Clintons and the Bushes all report up to this person) and medicines will no longer work as of September or so

Again I say, WOW.

Ha ita, definitely not a woo-woo thing. Not sure how it works, but undoubtedly closer to EMR than God's creation.

Also is it just me, or does ita's nurse sound like that website Consuela found that randomly generates conspiracy theories?

does ita's nurse sound like that website Consuela found that randomly generates conspiracy theories?

Hah, oh I'd forgotten about that site. Wow. Serious cray-cray.

Erin, I'm curious what the "menage-a-trois on an onramp" actually was?? Was this in a car, or like, in the middle of the onramp, or on the shoulder or WTF?

menage-a-trois on an onramp

That's a Sundance movie waiting to happen.

The writer himself doesn't want them reprinted. He's been quite curmudgeonly about it.

No lie. An old boyfriend of mine called Platt in the early 90s to tell him how important the book was to me...could he find a copy somewhere?

Platt did not, in any way, appreciate the romantic gesture. Swearing and an angry hang-up ensued.

I'm pretty sure Kin has passed though. Perhaps his estate will help us out.

I love the blog post.

Funny how deeply a book can effect you.

the caller thought it was 3 nekkid ppl getting it on in a grassy area at belmont and grand, which is like a block east of the hawthorne bridge (a very heavily trafficked urban area, not a nice secluded spot for any kind of sexual activity). Officer driving past didn't see anything. My personal opinion was that it was just a few people being nekkid, which is totally legal in portland, but tends to upset some folks.

eta: also, the fact that only one random psrby reported it, by calling his wife at home who then called us, makes it seem highly implausible. Menage a troi out in the open in this weather? Everyone would be calling out of concern for the cold/wet grass.