Well, I had a run of luck this summer with some raffle tickets to benefit the North Portland Library, which I am only too happy to support. Two out of three of my tickets came up a winner, one of which was for the world famous and adored Mississippi Records. The other was for a local acupuncture treatment... guess which one I used first?
Well, time was running out on the latter prize and I figured it would be biased of me to let it expire. So, today I went in for the first acupuncture of my life. It was kind of electric, but not enough to charge my weakness. Kind of relaxing, but not enough to chill me out. In other words, I'm ambivalent on the experience and will not be talking about it much.
Then it became evident that 20 children were murdered in their class while I was contemplating the 12 small needles stuck into me. This, of course, means nothing. But what does have meaning is that I was compelled to write this small post in tribute to those young and innocent children. I will think of them whenever someone mentions acupuncture, and maybe that will work better somehow.
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About Me
- geebee
- I was born on a crumpet, splashed with tepid tea, suckled with a Guinness and sent to public school in time for lunch. Years later I surfed the Atlantic on the Queen Mary, wandering aimlessly into First Class between bouts of puking in the cabin. Shuffleboard playing adults clad in starched white blinded me on the sunlit deck by day, and the hum of massive engines on the lower decks lulled me to sleep at night. A week later I was cruising the streets of Midtown Manhattan, hoping for chocolate bars. Between now and then I survived the Midwest, fathered wonderful children, settled into the Northwest with its damp English weather and started a blog. All before and after dinner.
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