De NADA

I went to the NADA conference a couple months back, and it made an impression on me.

But my friend Edward, it really made an impression on him. As in he has become an apprentice practitioner of this sub-discipline of acupuncture.

He lives near Joplin, near enough to have pictures of his Town Car when it got lanced by a pole and thrown a quarter mile onto its roof with him in it.

The pole would have gone though his chest roughly between his sternum and throat if he wasn't being tossed like a rag doll at the time. It's one of the creepier things I've ever seen, so naturally I joked about it, saying, "I don't know what you're whining about. That happened to me three times last week."

He was seeing all these shell-shocked Joplintonians (or whatever you'd call them), and I don't know if he'd already started studying the NADA protocol before this or what, but next thing he was needling total strangers just to try and give them some peace.

Did I see God when he needled me? No, but then I didn't shut up either. Not my strong suit, especially when I'm among friends. I can tell you it didn't hurt, and if a trypanophobe like me can take it, anyone can. The NADA protocol is about detoxification, so maybe the Boulevard in my hand was counterproductive.

I suggested this to Edward, but he pointed out its adherents claim it works on heroin junkies who have no intention of quitting. Corinna had a little harder time with it than I did, which was surprising since she's tough as nails and I'm a total pussy.

Her ear managed to throw one of the needles (which Edward said meant she didn't need that one).

But Gallmeyer, he was already on the top of some Tibetan mountain before the needles were out of their bag. He's about the most in-the-moment person I've ever known and I've even accused him of secretly being the 15th Dalai Lama, but he went some other place when the needles went in.

After, we all signed Edward's form. He has to get a quota of freebie ears before he can start charging for NADA. And yeah, I know what that means in Spanish, but even if I didn't see God, I still think there's something to it.