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Authors: Nicholas Stanton
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then the meats into the pot of
boiling water. I watched the two men continue their conversation
with one eye and my lunch with the other. I had just dipped my
first mouthful in the sauce when the two of them got up and walked
out of the restaurant. So much for lunch! I pulled a twenty out of
my shirt pocket and stuffed as big a bite as I could into my mouth
before I hurried after the odd couple.
As soon as I stepped outside I saw them get
into Ray-Ray’s unmarked police cruiser. I was screwed! Wherever
they were headed it was going to be without my shadow on their
tails. Whatever they were up to was yet to be discovered. Time for
plan B, back to USC to see what my favorite nut-bar, Looney
Tunes, had come up with, although I was pretty sure the blue
fibers would lead me back to Ray-Ray somehow? Anyway, there was no
use wasting a perfectly good meal. I went back into the Shabu Shabu
joint and finished my lunch!
****
(“she put de lime in de coconut, called de doctor,
woke him up”)…Nilsson…1973
Chapter Ten
Ahmanson Bio Research Center, USC…Tuesday,
Feb 17, 2009…6pm
Judy Looney pulled off her specs and tossed
them wearily onto the desk in front of her. Glancing quickly at her
wristwatch she groaned audibly. It was 2am and she couldn’t believe
that she had been working non-stop since lunch, again! It
was the third time this week and she was beginning to feel every
one of her forty something years. Thank God for Maxwell House and
Folgers she thought; the lab’s java choices. Choices based entirely
on cost versus taste of course. Lab rats are predominately poorer
than the average rodent, a sad fact of life. But who cares, after
the eighth or ninth cup nobody really tastes anything anyway. Hot,
black and strong are the only criteria for double and triple
shifts.
Sure, the teaching gig paid the rent, but
that only accounted for 6 of the 18 hours she put in most days. It
was her passion for research that kept her in the lab until the wee
hours. Students would come and go but finding a cure for the big
“C” was what she was all about. Being a Fellow at this school was a
big deal. A bigger deal was being a part of the Regenerative
Medicine / Stem Cell Research team at USC; now that was a huge
honor! It was what put the spring in her step and the shit eating
grin on Edward’s face, her traditionalist Scots/Irish old man
(father). He was a tough as nails retired longshoreman who
emigrated from Glasgow to the United States during the cold war,
1962 to be exact. He brought his new bride straight from the Chapel
to the Port of Los Angeles where he put in thirty five years
loading and unloading containers from around the world. The young
couple called San Pedro their home and settled in a small five room
cottage within spitting distance of Ports of Call. It was a little
dicey fitting into their Cabrillo St. neighborhood with its thick
Yugoslavian population. In May of 1968 his wife Trudy bore him a
daughter, the apple of his eye, and his pride and joy. They named
her Judith Theresa Looney, after his great Aunt who had raised him.
His own parents had been killed during the London blitz in 1943.
Tragic really, and tragedy had followed him to the new world as
well. Trudy would later die in child birth, two years after
Judith’s arrival. While that child, also a wee girl whom they
called Cassie (short for Cassandra) would pass at the tender age of
eight after a short and fierce battle with cancer.
That was the defining moment in Judy’s life.
It changed her forever. It drove her to medicine. It was also
responsible for her Looney Tunes nickname the one we all
love to tease her about. I should explain that. You see, prior to
Cassie’s death Judy could have been best described as a wallflower,
shy and reserved to the point of appearing autistic. For whatever
reasons, reasons only she could know, the old Judy was buried with
her sister on that day as well. The pre-teen that emerged became a
hellion of legendary
boiling water. I watched the two men continue their conversation
with one eye and my lunch with the other. I had just dipped my
first mouthful in the sauce when the two of them got up and walked
out of the restaurant. So much for lunch! I pulled a twenty out of
my shirt pocket and stuffed as big a bite as I could into my mouth
before I hurried after the odd couple.
As soon as I stepped outside I saw them get
into Ray-Ray’s unmarked police cruiser. I was screwed! Wherever
they were headed it was going to be without my shadow on their
tails. Whatever they were up to was yet to be discovered. Time for
plan B, back to USC to see what my favorite nut-bar, Looney
Tunes, had come up with, although I was pretty sure the blue
fibers would lead me back to Ray-Ray somehow? Anyway, there was no
use wasting a perfectly good meal. I went back into the Shabu Shabu
joint and finished my lunch!
****
(“she put de lime in de coconut, called de doctor,
woke him up”)…Nilsson…1973
Chapter Ten
Ahmanson Bio Research Center, USC…Tuesday,
Feb 17, 2009…6pm
Judy Looney pulled off her specs and tossed
them wearily onto the desk in front of her. Glancing quickly at her
wristwatch she groaned audibly. It was 2am and she couldn’t believe
that she had been working non-stop since lunch, again! It
was the third time this week and she was beginning to feel every
one of her forty something years. Thank God for Maxwell House and
Folgers she thought; the lab’s java choices. Choices based entirely
on cost versus taste of course. Lab rats are predominately poorer
than the average rodent, a sad fact of life. But who cares, after
the eighth or ninth cup nobody really tastes anything anyway. Hot,
black and strong are the only criteria for double and triple
shifts.
Sure, the teaching gig paid the rent, but
that only accounted for 6 of the 18 hours she put in most days. It
was her passion for research that kept her in the lab until the wee
hours. Students would come and go but finding a cure for the big
“C” was what she was all about. Being a Fellow at this school was a
big deal. A bigger deal was being a part of the Regenerative
Medicine / Stem Cell Research team at USC; now that was a huge
honor! It was what put the spring in her step and the shit eating
grin on Edward’s face, her traditionalist Scots/Irish old man
(father). He was a tough as nails retired longshoreman who
emigrated from Glasgow to the United States during the cold war,
1962 to be exact. He brought his new bride straight from the Chapel
to the Port of Los Angeles where he put in thirty five years
loading and unloading containers from around the world. The young
couple called San Pedro their home and settled in a small five room
cottage within spitting distance of Ports of Call. It was a little
dicey fitting into their Cabrillo St. neighborhood with its thick
Yugoslavian population. In May of 1968 his wife Trudy bore him a
daughter, the apple of his eye, and his pride and joy. They named
her Judith Theresa Looney, after his great Aunt who had raised him.
His own parents had been killed during the London blitz in 1943.
Tragic really, and tragedy had followed him to the new world as
well. Trudy would later die in child birth, two years after
Judith’s arrival. While that child, also a wee girl whom they
called Cassie (short for Cassandra) would pass at the tender age of
eight after a short and fierce battle with cancer.
That was the defining moment in Judy’s life.
It changed her forever. It drove her to medicine. It was also
responsible for her Looney Tunes nickname the one we all
love to tease her about. I should explain that. You see, prior to
Cassie’s death Judy could have been best described as a wallflower,
shy and reserved to the point of appearing autistic. For whatever
reasons, reasons only she could know, the old Judy was buried with
her sister on that day as well. The pre-teen that emerged became a
hellion of legendary
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