At the beginning of the book, the author states that the first cable stayed bridge in the United States is in his hometown of Kennewick, WA and opened for traffic in 1978. I guess no one bothered to fact check, that is actually the second cable stayed bridge. The first is in Sitka, AK and was opened in 1972. Not a big deal, I know, but I'm a stickler for details.
Fact checking aside, I could relate to the author. We had a lot in common. We both had drop ceilings in our bedrooms, we both hid our contraband up there. We both had older siblings that we didn't really know. We were both tucked in at night with warnings of bed bugs. I had to smile when he talked about those plastic bird whistles. I loved those. I also have fond memories of holding my cassette recorder against the radio and television speakers. I loved mixing my own music too.
The book was presented in small sections, some just a paragraph long, some a few pages, most somewhere in between. It didn't read like a memoir though. It felt like I had gotten a hold of Kevin's diary. That made it fun and quick to read. I appreciated that the author didn't spend too much time writing about or glorifying the worst things in his life. He just told his story.
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