tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375681131276548542.post1319122787108028990..comments2024-02-27T10:53:04.581+01:00Comments on paperpools: whitelistHelen DeWitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07619602559096610012noreply@blogger.comBlogger4125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375681131276548542.post-42000219128135338522008-12-23T05:45:00.000+00:002008-12-23T05:45:00.000+00:00Oooh, Jenny's comment makes me so envious. I've n...Oooh, Jenny's comment makes me so envious. I've never had an editor for anything. (I mean, sure, all my books have had editors at the presses, and these people have been great, but they haven't really been editors in the traditional sense.)<BR/><BR/>I think that's why I always want collaborators when I write things--I need the feedback and constructive suggestions, and since editors aren't available, coauthors will do.<BR/><BR/>The funny thing is, I've always wanted to be an editor. My dream career (if I could not be a statistician) is to be a Maxwell Perkins-style editor. But my impression is that these people don't really exist anymore. At least not like they used to.Andrew Gelmanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02715992780769751789noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375681131276548542.post-21317221587327197072008-12-23T03:13:00.000+00:002008-12-23T03:13:00.000+00:00So I'm sitting there in the dentist's chair, stone...So I'm sitting there in the dentist's chair, stoned out of my mind on <I>inter alia</I> nitrous oxide. He's a nice guy with adept fingers. Gentle. But he'd just reamed the nerve out of the three root points of my molar which I'm pretty sure hurt really bad except for the rest of the stuff I was stoned on. Anyway, I ask him (with all that dental equipment, including his fingers and some sort of dam in my mouth) what's that rubbery stuff he's exuding into the space formally occupied by feeling and he says, get this, he says "gutta percha."<BR/><BR/>"Wait, wait, wait," I scream, tears of laughter gushing. "Gutta percha?" (I find out only later that everybody can hear me all the way down in the waiting room, and they're all having a jolly good time of it, too). "Gutta percha? You're turning my tooth into a goddamned golf ball?" I'm uncontrollable, laughing like a fiend and, truth to tell, he's kinda laughing too at this point. As is his assistant. So, he turns up the nitrous and I get dizzy to the point of passing out and watch my tooth, with brain attached, go sailing down the middle of the fairway.<BR/><BR/>I hate going to the dentist, too. Sorry for the bad time with your teeth.<BR/><BR/>Best,<BR/>Jim H.Jim H.https://www.blogger.com/profile/02088100982761595050noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375681131276548542.post-58402373044757576082008-12-22T23:20:00.000+00:002008-12-22T23:20:00.000+00:00I thoroughly agree re: the loveliness of Parkian e...I thoroughly agree re: the loveliness of Parkian editing - it is impossible to go back to the regular kind afterwards...Jenny Davidsonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02295436498255927522noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5375681131276548542.post-46560184074846015942008-12-22T20:54:00.000+00:002008-12-22T20:54:00.000+00:00Hey, I had lunch with Ed a few weeks ago and he ne...Hey, I had lunch with Ed a few weeks ago and he never asked _me_ to write something for the Believer about statistics! What gives?Andrew Gelmanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02715992780769751789noreply@blogger.com