I’m continuing my Oliver Sacks kick by going straight to the source, to his own memoir written in his last years as he finally came to terms with openly being a gay man. What a full and thrilling life he managed to pack in! Details here that were missing from the other book, like about the PCP party he was invited to and he arrived late only to find everyone had lost their minds and he called emergency services for them. Or the road trip he took on his motorcycle which broke down and he hitched a ride with a trucker for a few days. Being so excited about some research at Oxford that he didn’t have time to write his essay so he extemporized and flipped blank pages of a notepad as if it were written down. Lyrical descriptions of living on City Island in the Bronx, calling it an old fishing village where they didn’t lock their doors and neighbors looked out for each other. Yet he wonders aloud why he didn’t stay in the West, more specifically the Southwest, instead of the 50 years he spent in NYC.