STEPS FORWARD, STEPS BACK: I didn't have a full steak dinner, but last month I had most of a rack of baby back ribs, an order of fried onion rings, and some cole slaw (note to all: if you're ever in the Baltimore area, you must try the ribs at The Corner Stable), and aside from a slight feeling of bloat resulting from the sheer volume, I had no digestive problems at all. I believe I've come through the loss of my gallbladder about as well as I could possibly ask.

     Donna is still awaiting a definitive diagnosis on her shoulder. Two weeks after the second visit to the hospital for assorted imaging (X-rays and arthroscopy), we still hadn't heard back. Three more phone calls to the surgeon's office finally got us the information that the diagnosticians were in disagreement on how to read the images. Yet another visit and some new images were called for, we were told, and they'd schedule them for us; unfortunately, they neglected to call us back with the date and time. We found out just a bit too late for me to arrange the day off. We're waiting for another appointment now.

     Ethan's training in Bafia, Cameroon, is nearly done, and he'll soon be transferred to the town of Batié (I haven't been able to find out its population yet) to start teaching computer literacy in earnest. He's been teaching Bafia teenagers in a "model school" at the training center, and dealing with intermittent fears of not being a good teacher or otherwise not being able to make the sort of difference he'd hoped to be able to make (partially engendered by the low starting point for the students, most of whom have never even seen a typewriter keyboard and don't know what a shift key is for). He's still blogging at <cameroon [dot] betacantrips [dot] com>, for those who seek more detail.

ART APPRECIATION: I read this article in The Onion on the subway home last week, and thought I ought to clip it and send it to Art Tobias, one of the first enthusiasts of The Prisoner I'd spent any time discussing the show with. Then I got home and received a call from the Friedmans: Art had died that day, apparently of a heart attack. Art was at the first NYUSFS meeting I attended back in 1974—it was his first meeting as well, it turned out. He had encyclopedic knowledge of a host of s-f books and films (and bad monster movies), of course. He also had an enduring fondness for private eyes and secret agents—notably James Bond in all his incarnations, and especially John Drake/Number 6; Art titled his sporadic APA-NYU contributions, simply, "Information." His appearances at NYUSFS were increasingly rare after the first few years, especially after his job forced him to move to Ambler, Pennsylvania (somewhere in the northern exurbs of Philadelphia), but he stayed in touch, by e-mail and when visiting his mother here for holidays. Life won't be the same without Art.

Comments on APA-NYU, Volume 8, #7 (e-APA-NYU #75)

LSD* IN THE HOT SUN (Ariel Cinii):

"[Bolt Bus Co.] e-mail refers to its passengers as 'Bolters'." To me that suggests people who eat too fast, or a character from Battlestar Galactica. /*/ "(I designed a high-heeled shoe based on a 1957 Chevy during the ride down.)" But can you design a starship shaped like a running shoe? /*/ I'd think if a legally blind person is to be using a microwave oven, it should have full-travel keys, or even knobs, rather than touchpads. Do they still make any like that? /*/ Sorry to hear your coffee machine has "bec[o]me incontinent, leaking in a place it had never leaked from before." I've been having problems for years with coffee machines leaking. I think I've figured out at least one cause: I add cocoa to the coffee grounds. The finely ground cocoa combines with the hot water to make a dense mud that slows down subsequent water as it drips through, causing the basket to overflow. I have no idea whether this applies to your situation, though. /*/ Good luck with the rewriting/expansion of the novel/story cycle. /*/ And good luck staying cool during the remainder of this summer.

JAMISON, TAKE E-LETTER (Mark L. Blackman):

After hearing you and Thom and Tom discussing the Dortmunder series, I read its first book, The Hot Rock, and quite enjoyed it. (I think the only Westlake I've read previously was Dancing Aztecs.) I'll have to add the rest of the series to my all-but-infinite reading queue. /*/ (¢APA-NEWS) Um, G. David Low died in 2008; I listed him in the In Memoriam in e-APA-NYU #48. Who told you he survived until 2010? /*/ (¢Nelson) "[an iPad]'s plugged into a wall outlet using electricity, so how 'green' are electronic devices?" I understand that solar cells that can be embedded in clothing have been developed. Give it a couple of years and greener-than-thous will be walking around in coats and vests that can power their phones and netbooks. /*/ (¢me) "Obviously they didn't create a makeshift bile duct into the intestines (as they did for my friend), which might allow you more fat intake." Um, there already is a bile duct into the intestines. (Well, it's a bit more complex, but basically, bile normally goes from the liver to the intestines with a side trip to the gallbladder; when the gallbladder is removed, so is the detour, and all the bile does directly to the intestines as it's secreted.) If that isn't damaged, there's no need for a replacement. /*/ "The song 'The Subway Goes Rolling Along' (which I heard on Soupy Sales' show) had a sensible reason (more than pride, as in Clark's ditty) not to sleep in the subways - 'If you snooze they steal your shoes ...'" I've been looking for "The Subways Go Rolling Along" for a while. It seems to have been written and recorded by one Steve Karmen, better known for advertising jingles (including "I Love New York" and "When You Say Bud"), but there don't seem to be any copies of it, physical or digital, readily available. (Probably if I keep watching, someone will put one up on eBay for a couple of hundred bucks. I don't think I'm that desperate.)

             
I'M COMING TO NEW YORK CITY (Robert Osband):

Actually, I think you intended this for the bounce list rather than the apa list, but it arrived shortly before I told Mailman to issue a collation, and I figured that if you were already in transit, there wouldn't be time to contact you, verify what you'd intended and implement it before you arrived in town. I hope you found a place to crash. /*/ I ended up stuck late at work on that Thursday and didn't make it to Washington Square until almost 7, so my apologies if you were disappointed at finding no one familiar in the park. (The summer edition of the current student club was meeting at a local restaurant, but even if you'd made it there, I don't think you'd have known any of them.)