I enjoyed Larry's book for a variety of reasons. One being, in 1980, I met a whacked bass player who was playing in a band in Boston, while also playing with an Irish band in NYC, the Major Thinkers. Larry and Pierce Turner's band. My soon to be husband and I sublet Larry's East Village Apartment, and I spent a fair amount of time going to gigs, and living among Larry's things, his music, his words. I like Larry a lot, and am impressed with where his Irishness has taken him, his writing and Black 47. Larry and Pierce went back to Ireland to visit their families and organized a tour to finance their trip, so I got left alone in NYC, not knowing anyone, jobless, with $70.00 that my husband left for me for food. I got a job at Trash and Vaudeville. He had dyed his hair, and got food poisoning, so when I met the band at the airport, my future husbands hair was yellow and his skin was green. Lennon was murdered, Princess Di and Charles got married...I remember one gig in an Irish bar in the Bronx, with a guy grabbing my ass really hard, and telling my husband, fully expecting him to defend the honor of his blushing bride....he asked me if I was out of my mind! Anyway. I did enjoy the book. I didn't have a whole lot of sympathy for Mary...and more often than not I wanted to slap Sean up side his head. Danny and his problems, as yet unidentified reminded me more than anything of the time and fear as things developed. The thing I most related to, was Sean landing in NY and not getting that the most important thing is to walk with purpose and no matter how scared you are, or how lost, you have to act like you know what you're doing. They can smell it, and they will mess with you, and even if they have no intentions of hurting you, they will mess with you just to see you pee your pants. He really got that across in Sean's blindly searching for Decatur.