I didn't realize you had to be a scientist to run for Congress. Is Ayesha Nariman going to build an alternative energy system by herself with her math and physics knowledge? (Endorsements, Congress, 26th District, October 30.)
I accept your endorsement decision. I like what Ms. Nariman has to say. I don't think she has the courage to challenge the entrenched politics of business as usual in Washington. Her grasp of the specifics of many issues would make her a great consultant or lobbyist.
I thought the article was fairly done in general kind of ho-hum way. You call me scattered and reactive but don't make that case until the final hippie-pot-smoker dig. I think that was a cheap shot. It exposed the inner conflict chicken-shit Democrats like yourself have. You want to be hip, cool, and edgy but you're afraid to piss off your boss. Thanks for making me look like a schmuck, you punk.
Paul Fallon, Amherst
Chris Busby responds: Thanks for proving my point, Mr. Fallon.
Please explain why you chose to publish the following comments in Jon Popick's reviews of Chaos and In Praise of Love (October 23): "Of course, being French, they don't help at all, opting to watch the woman get beaten to near death" and "Maybe we'll get some insight into the cowardly nature of frog-eaters."
Is this supposed to be funny? What ethnophobic drivel can we expect in City next week? Polish jokes?
Mark Madigan, Rowley Street, Rochester
Thanks very much to Frank De Blase for his kind words in City Newspaper ("The Earl Cram Review," October 9). It was a great plus for our show and also for our new CD. And we really, really appreciate his help.
If everyone supported local talent like Frank does, we could put this town on the map.
Earl Cram (Sam LaCara), Russell Avenue, Irondequoit
I read Jennifer Loviglio's "The Body Politic" (October 16) right after having my mammogram and two weeks after seeing "The Vagina Monologues."
While driving to my mammogram appointment, I began to think that the results of this exam could change my whole life. I have been faithful in keeping my mammogram appointments over the past 12 years, but the dread and gloom have been closer to the surface since my 30-year-old manager became a breast cancer survivor two years ago. She is a courageous person.
My mammogram experience is similar to Loviglio's: One feels like a part of a herd. I wait my turn with my gown on in a "dressing booth" with no verbal privacy available. The technician leads me to a cold stark room and puts me through the torture.
What comes next is the scariest waiting of my life. There is that claustrophobic wait in the "dressing booth" which just about makes me jump out of my skin. Reading a People magazine about Rosie's latest scandal doesn't calm my fears. What will the technician say? Will I need to have more films?
The technician comes in and states, "One of your films is a little hazy. The doc wants to do another set." This is it. Here I am, alone, with no one to support me if this should be bad news. Just me behind the dressing-room curtain.
The next set of films is taken, and once again I have to wait in the dressing room for the technician's report. Ten hellish minutes later, the technician comes back with the report. I can hardly hear what she is saying because my heart is beating so hard and fast. The results are negative. I will be notified when my next appointment is due, and I stop by the desk to pay the receptionist.
I left a part of me back in that dressing booth. Next time, I will go with a friend, a rosary, and some herbal tea.
Thanks to Jennifer for a fine article. It was as if she had climbed in my head and put my thoughts to paper.
Melanie Popick, Brett Road, Rochester