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Acuff, Gale |
Ahern, Edward |
Allen, R. A. |
Alleyne, Chris |
Andersen, Fred |
Andes, Tom |
Appel, Allen |
Arnold, Sandra |
Aronoff, Mikki |
Ayers, Tony |
Baber, Bill |
Baird, Meg |
Baker, J. D. |
Balaz, Joe |
Barker, Adelaide |
Barker, Tom |
Barnett, Brian |
Barry, Tina |
Bartlett, Daniel C. |
Bates, Greta T. |
Bayly, Karen |
Beckman, Paul |
Bellani, Arnaav |
Berriozabal, Luis Cuauhtemoc |
Beveridge, Robert |
Blakey, James |
Booth, Brenton |
Bracken, Michael |
Brown, Richard |
Bunton, Chris |
Burke, Wayne F. |
Burnwell, Otto |
Bush, Glen |
Campbell, J. J. |
Cancel, Charlie |
Capshaw, Ron |
Carr, Steve |
Carrabis, Joseph |
Cartwright, Steve |
Centorbi, David Calogero |
Cherches, Peter |
Christensen, Jan |
Clifton, Gary |
Cody, Bethany |
Cook, Juliete |
Costello, Bruce |
Coverly, Harris |
Crist, Kenneth James |
Cumming, Scott |
Davie, Andrew |
Davis, Michael D. |
Degani, Gay |
De Neve, M. A. |
Dika, Hala |
Dillon, John J. |
Dinsmoor, Robert |
Dominguez, Diana |
Dorman, Roy |
Doughty, Brandon |
Doyle, John |
Dunham, T. Fox |
Ebel, Pamela |
Engler, L. S. |
Fagan, Brian Peter |
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Fain, John |
Fillion, Tom |
Flynn, James |
Fortier, M. L. |
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Glass, Donald |
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Greenberg, KJ Hannah |
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Hardin, Scott |
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Holt, M. J. |
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Hostovsky, Paul |
Hubbs, Damon |
Irwin, Daniel S. |
Jabaut, Mark |
Jackson, James Croal |
Jermin, Wayne |
Jeschonek, Robert |
Johns. Roger |
Kanner, Mike |
Karl, Frank S. |
Kempe, Lucinda |
Kennedy, Cecilia |
Keshigian, Michael |
Kirchner, Craig |
Kitcher, William |
Kompany, James |
Kondek, Charlie |
Koperwas, Tom |
Kreuiter, Victor |
LaRosa, F. Michael |
Larsen, Ted R. |
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Leonard, Devin James |
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Lester, Louella |
Litsey, Chris |
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Luer, Ken |
Lukas, Anthony |
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Mannone, John C. |
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Miller, Dawn L. C. |
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Nielsen, Ayaz Daryl |
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Onken, Bernard |
Owen, Deidre J. |
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Parker, Becky |
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Plath, Rob |
Potter, Ann Marie |
Potter, John R. C. |
Price, Liberty |
Proctor, M. E. |
Prusky, Steve |
Radcliffe, Paul |
Reddick, Niles M. |
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Robbins, John Patrick |
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Rose, Brad |
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Ross, Gary Earl |
Rowland, C. A. |
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Taylor, Richard Allen |
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Varghese, Davis |
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Al Wassif, Amirah |
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Weld, Charles |
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Young, Mark |
Zackel, Fred |
Zelvin, Elizabeth |
Zeigler, Martin |
Zimmerman, Thomas |
Zumpe, Lee Clark |
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The Offal Truth By Scott MacLeod There was Tanner’s mom preparing to spoon up the runny tuna casserole
into the chunky green plastic bowl. Her garish Avon slotted spoon with the faux quartz
handle pierced the skin on the whitish surface which was bedecked with 4 frighteningly
orange squares of American cheese arrayed like processed banners in a stiff breeze. Tanner
jerked awake from this recurring nightmare. “Never
again,” he thought, rolling over to call to confirm tonight’s reservation at
Anton’s. That night, Tanner made a scene
at Anton’s, as usual. Loudly oohing and aahing about the tripe. Braying over the
sweetbreads. It was off-putting to the mostly expat diners and Parisian staff, especially
the chef, Anton himself. “Never again,” Anton thought. After
that night no matter how hard he tried, Tanner could find no open reservation at Anton’s.
The restaurant eschewed Open Table or similar online services so could easily control the
process through the house phone. Tanner faced cool denials of any plot against him when
he inquired in person. As Tanner grew more and more desperate for
variety meats, he turned to his boyhood pal, Coolie. Coolie was
a knockaround guy, not a made man but adjacent. He could get a job done or find the people
who could. “I’m dying for some
pluck, organ meat to you,” said Tanner. “I can’t eat like a plebian.
I won’t. Anton seems to have banned me and looks like he has put out the word to
his suppliers to keep me on the “pay me no mind” list as well. Passable liver
I can find at my butcher, but I need you to use your dark arts to procure me some kidney.” In this case Coolie farmed out the task
to a trusted associate. The order percolated down the chain until finally Tanner was told
to be home the following Tuesday and to expect a visitor regarding his special request. When Tanner’s doorbell rang that Tuesday night, he flung open
the apartment door excitedly, only to be roughly tossed to the floor by a hulking man.
The brute held in one hand a long syringe and in the other a crumpled notecard that held
only Tanner’s address and the notation “Kidney Delivery”. Tanner awoke the next afternoon in a haze of agony. Most of the blood
had been cleaned up admirably and things might have passed for normal if not for the blinding
pain and the fresh foot long incision on his flank. It
appeared Tanner had been done in by another organ meat in short supply. Brains. Clearly there had been some crossed wires on the assignment. Maybe the
request had passed through too many hands and became subverted from gluttony to trafficking.
Maybe one of the delegees thought “procure” meant sell, not buy. But Coolie
was devastated, as a matter of personal heartache for his old friend even more than from
tarnished professional pride. He was as gutted
figuratively as his buddy was literally. He was determined to make right this fiasco. The following night, Tanner was resting after a long day at the hospital
confirming his condition was survivable. In the ER he answered a bellyful of police questions,
but he held his tongue. Around 10:00 Coolie announced himself at Tanner’s door. Down
one kidney but still a mensch, Tanner invited his childhood amigo to let himself in
with the key under the mat. Tanner expected another long and anguished apology. What he
got instead was his second shock of the week when he registered that Coolie was accompanied
by the same gorilla who stole his kidney, who again plunged in a huge hypodermic sending
Tanner to la-la land. When Tanner awoke, he looked up into blinding
lights. He seemed to be in some kind of makeshift field hospital. He felt the familiar
burn under his ribs and was flummoxed to find when he peeked under his gown a brand-new
scar an inch away and parallel to the still fresh one from his attack. “Mornin’ pardner,” said a groggy Coolie from the next
bed. “Bro,” he continued, “when I saw what happened to you, on my watch,
I had to make it right. The goons who hijacked you still had enough traces of your blood
and tissue to test that I would be a compatible donor. We had to cut another hole in you
to put mine in, sorry for that, but now I’ve got a scar to match. When they gave
me the green light, I knew I had to do it. I still got one left, that’s plenty.” “You knocked me out!” protested Tanner. “I didn’t want to give you any chance to refuse.” “So let me get this straight,” said Tanner, also still
loopy from the procedure. “Because a job I gave you cost me a kidney, you had these
butchers cut out one of your own and replace mine?” “Affirmative,”
said his pal. “Happy to do it. Just like the Bible says, ‘an eye for an eye’.”
“How can you afford this?” asked
Tanner, still getting his bearings. “Not to worry. The guys who worked you over by mistake felt bad
and agreed to pick up the tab. They provided their docs and facilities for free.”
“How can I ever thank you?”
croaked Tanner, now sniffling. “Not needed my blood brother, just
trying to make us square and make you whole, so to speak. Just promise me one thing. From
now on you stick to meatloaf.”
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