Justin and I are both getting over the latest virus spread by some toddler typhoid Mary. I’ve actually gotten off pretty easy this year when it comes to colds and flu. At least, compared to last year. I’m about halfway through D.B. : a novel by Elwood Reid and it’s kind of bogging down. The book is, of course, based on the now legendary D.B. Cooper, who jumped from a Northwest Orient jet with $200,000 strapped to his torso somewhere over southern Washington. He was never caught and the money (at least the majority of it) never found. He’s become the stuff of folk legends, spawning books, movies, songs and other cultural artifacts. The novel D.B. in some ways reminds me of Don DeLillo’s Libra, which was a fictionalization of Lee Harvey Oswald and his assassination of J.F.K.. There is the obvious similarity of fictionalizing a crime and it’s perpetrator, but both books are quite well written. I just feel that a novel about D. B. Cooper on the run from the F.B.I. should have a little quicker pace.