Chasing the Dream
Had the (mis-)fortune of finally taking my girls to a Dodger game last Sunday with the hopes of finally watching Shohei Ohtani hit a homerun (we were somehow unsuccessful in our last three or four Angels game attempts). Of all day games to attend, we somehow found the one where the temperature display at the stadium never budged below 103o over the entire 9-inning game.
At one point in between innings, the stadium organist amusingly played the classic holiday tune "Let It Snow" which my girls absolutely took delight in (they coincidentally had the odd habit of randomly singing Christmas tunes all summer long for some reason; I can't pretend to understand middle-school age girls very well).
Ultimately, Ohtani, in proper unicorn fashion, did not disappoint and bent a rocket just inside the foul pole to make the heat all seem worth it. What a legend. Dreams come true.
But I'm also thinking about snow today upon learning that Howard Sheckter of mammothweather.com had apparently passed away last month after a battle with glioblastoma.
As the weather here finally drifts back towards something resembling sweater weather, it does feel a bit more fitting to dream of snow. And over the years, there was no better place to turn to for hopes of powder than Dr Howard and "the Dweebs."
I rarely understood anything I'd read on those posts, but something about all those colorful global radar images and hardcore meteorological lingo made me feel like there was real hope that like 3 weeks from now, a proper dumping might just happen before a possible trip to the Sierras... Alas, Howard graciously left us one last farewell post: https://mammothweather.com/2024/08/28/good-day-eastern-sierra/
Sadly, the field of neuro-oncology can sometimes become just as obscure and unpredictable as the weather. I'll never forget one particular dinner with a leading neuro-oncologist who let his sardonic side show when talking about glioblastoma in particular. Despite all his knowledge, research, institutional resourcing, and clinical instincts, when it came to this particular disease, he conceded that basically he has little idea that anything can meaningfully work. Despite all the innovations we've seen over the years across oncology, his patients are unfortunately still stuck with much less to hope for, with forecasts perhaps more obscure than what even what Howard gave us aspiring powder chasers.
The picture didn't get any clearer after last week's announcement by IN8bio to suspend their GBM programs. ESMO - European Society for Medical Oncology seems to have featured some early signals, including data on an mRNA vaccine from CureVac and some other interesting early immunotherapies and cell therapies. But it seems we're still a ways away before any of these fully demonstrate that they could have changed Howard's fate... Let's continue to hope.
In the meantime, condolences and gratitude to the entire Mammoth community. Glad that Howard's last couple winters were at least some of the snowiest of all time. Perhaps the skies knew it was among their last chances to honor the legend with their finest...
#LetItSnow
Co-founder & COO at Biosphere
6 个月Never met Howard but used his Mammoth snow forecasts religiously. Sad to hear the news.
Really enjoyed reading your post Paul, although saddened to hear Howard Sheckter passed away from GBM. My wife's uncle unfortunately lost his life to the same scourge, within a few months of diagnosis. Devasting to his family, and so frustrating to me that there were no good weapons in the therapeutic arsenal to provide even a modicum of hope. It was a clear death sentence from the get go. While I'm heartened to see the GBM data from GD2 CAR-T, an effective treatment - let alone a cure - still seems a decade or more away.