A Ditty NOT About Diddy
(to his dismay, no doubt!)

Can you tell me where the good has gone?
Can you tell me what's good these days?
Can you tell me why there's so much junk
and no more Purple Haze?

Have movies become too unreal?
Has television burned our brains?
How has reality TV become entertainment
And real life become so strange?

Now I'm all for growth
Now I'm all for getting better
But look at all the eyes
And the crosses in the letter.

And to think I find it strange
And to think I find it odd
The last time I wrote words like these
Reagan thought he was God.

Someday I'm sure it'll all make sense
Someday I'm sure I won't wake up blue
And until that day I hope like hell
I don't keep bitching about it.. how about you?

I was thinking about all of the crappy things that seem to be going on in the world right now - Yeesh, I feel for them folks in Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana! - and thought about how easy it would be to blog about all of that and whine about things.

So I thought I'd blog about something else I haven't really addressed yet: Lance Armstrong.

The word "hero" is a damn strong word. Some people think that I'd quickly say that Lance is my hero. This is not true. Lance is certainly an inspiration, but not quite my hero.

He is, however, the hero of thousands - and perhaps millions - of people worldwide. And unfortunately, we live in a world that likes to tear our heroes apart.

There is a French newspaper, which I will not name, that is alleging that six year old blood and urine samples show that Lance had taken EPO - a banned substance uring his first Tour win in 1999.

Now, rather than get into all the details, I'd like to ask anyone who has gone through cancer treatments - once you have been treated for cancer, are you going to put more crap into your body? It's this point that makes me believe that Lance is innocent.

How can you get treated with chemotherapy that nearly kills you, then inject yourself with junk to make you ride faster - particularly when you never thought you'd ride - let alone live - again??

Okay, so let's play devil's advocate: Let's say that Lance did take EPO in 1999. Well, the minute he won the '99 Tour, Lance immediately became a hero to many, many people. He's a smart, articulate guy... why would he continue such a facade for another six Tours de France? How could he - as a human being and father - continue such a lie? Well, I just don't see it.

This latest round of allegations are really suspicious: Lance is already retired, the samples are "B" samples which have been laying around for six years after Lance's "A" samples were already considered clean, and as a result Lance cannot refute the allegations because there are no further samples to prove himself innocent. I think it's strange that all of the allegations against Lance through the years have come through French newspapers or disgruntled former employees.

I go on record as saying that I believe whole-heartedly that Lance is clean and innocent. If, in the future I find that I am wrong, I will be very disappointed - but I will still admire Lance Armstrong for all the good he has done for the cancer community.

Now in the CD player:
"The Doors" by The Doors
"Maxinquaye" by Tricky
"Low" by David Bowie
"Live on King Biscuit" by Humble Pie

My Morning at the Zoo...

Man, a lot has happened over the past couple of days, and I'm trying to put everything in order. In the meantime, I wanted to talk about the zoo.

This morning, I volunteered at the NAAMA Walk for Women's Cancers, put on by the Karmanos Cancer Institute. After I dragged my ass out of bed at 6am, I cruised over to the Detroit Zoo and checked in. I was supposed to escort vendors and musicians into their spaces, but things got a little screwed up and I ended up greeting walkers as they arrived.

The walk started at 8:45-9:00am, so essentially my job was over at that time. I decided to wander the zoo before checking out.

I haven't been to the zoo since 1997, which was the first time I'd been to the zoo in nearly 15 years. In '97, though, I made it through the zoo rather quickly. Today, I took my sweet-ass time.

It's funny, but sometimes as an adult, you appreciate things differently than as a kid. And sometimes not. Today was a day for both.

I wandered past the camels and white-lipped deer, noticing how odd a two-humped camel really looks! And then of course, there was the guy who came up, muttering to a friend: damn, of all days to forget my gun! Heh heh... Yeah, that's funny. Dork.

It was still early, so some of the animals weren't out yet. I missed the peccaries and red pandas, but was mesmerized by the tigers. Day-um, those cats is HUGE! I stood and watched one roam back and forth, thinking how incredible it was that these animals were only a block or two away from quiet neighborhoods.

I went through the primates area, but the only ones out were the snow monkeys. Again, I stood and watched the dynamics amongst the group. And then the lions. I remember as a kid how cool it was to hear the lions roar. This morning, however, they were quietly meadering within their area, just chilling.

As I walked away from the lions and snow monkeys, I noticed a very large area to my right... and there I saw a huge animal - even as an adult, I thought the rhino was incredibly mighty. It plodded along an already worn path, walking across in front of me. Like the camels, the rhino is one strange looking animal!


By this time, I had reached the furthest point from the entrance. I began tracking my way back past the scimitar-horned oryx and the feisty zebra. And then the familiar Egyptian backdrop came into view. Here comes the giraffes!

I was surprised, though, to see ostriches also sharing the giraffe exhibit. And either the giraffes were small, or the ostriches were huge! It was very interesting!

Somehow, I missed the hippopotamus on my way towards the kangaroos. Once I got to the kangas, though, I felt like a kid. Lounging around under the sun, the kangas lay. I wanted to yell and scream to them to DO SOMETHING!!! Come on, joey, HOP!! But I just smiled at the fact that some things just don't change between 9 and 39 years old...

I walked past the incredible bison, the perky prairie dogs, and wandered to see the wolverines. Now THAT was cool!

I made my way past the Asian wild horses and aardvark, when I realized that I'd missed the much-hyped Arctic Ring of Life. Oh yeah, it was worth it!! Seeing the seals and polar bears splash about in the water was even more cool when I followed a downward path that led indoors to an underwater viewing area. Seals glided overhead, and in the distance, we could see the polar bears jumping in and out of the water. Stepping back outside, I followed the path back up to another building, where it was easier to see the momma and polar cub in the water.

As a result of the path I took, I missed the bear exhibit. By his time, I was getting kinda tired, so I kept making progress towards the exit. Again passing the locally famous Rackham Fountain, I found myself at the Holden Museum of living reptiles. When I was in 4th grade, I had a quirky teacher who decided that we were going to adopt a reptile. As part of the project, we went to the zoo and saw our pet iguana. It was in the Holden building, and I have been to this building every single time I have been to the zoo. It was a neat memory of my past.

Next was a relatively new exhibit - Amphibiville. It's really neat how the zoo maintains two-prong views. It tries to maintain its history, as well as gearing new things towards kids. Amphibiville was certainly geared towards kids, but it was still cool to see Amazon tree frogs, and things like that.

By this point, I was pretty whupped. There were three more exhibits to see before leaving, but I was willing to give up the aviary and the butterfly garden to go to the other place I have visited every time I have visited the zoo - the Penguinarium.

I have always loved the penguin house. I loved watching them swim past the viewing window, hauling ass. Today, I had a chance to watch them being fed. It was neat watching the birds pushing to the front, trying to get more food than others. The woman feeding them was good, though... she pretty much gave them all the same amount.

I was darn near ready for a nap at this point, so I left the zoo, and went to check out as a volunteer... but all of the walk tables, etc., were vacant and some were torn down. There was no one around to check out! That said, I got into the car at 11:30 (I coulda sworn it was at least 1:30!) and headed home... happy thoughts of lions and tigers and (polar) bears dancing in my brain...

Now on: Fox News' coverage of Hurricane Katrina.

WOW... or, for our dyslexic friends, WOW... (if you're looking at it upside down, MOM)

So tonight was my first real reading of "Cancerboy". I wanted so badly to have a good lecture, and it appears to have worked!

I'll tell you what, I worked hard and prepared for this mutha! My biggest concern - despite whether it would suck or not - was how nervous I'd be. When I'm nervous, I sweat. And when I sweat, I get more nervous! Anyhow, after the first couple of minutes, I felt great - relaxed and calm. Even when things didn't work out as planned, or when I'd trip over my tongue, I was able to recover acceptably.

And MAN, WHAT A RUSH!

Prior to the lecture I had a knot in my lower back, and sweated heavily. Looking back, I'm thinking I didn't get a deep breath all day until it was over, either!

We had a nice turnout of around 30 people, and I was comforted having the support of everyone there... particularly Sheryl, Van and my mom. We sold eight books, and gave out some buttons... the weird thing was trying to explain to each person what "the shizzle" was!

The audience was amazing, though. I felt like everyone wanted to hear what I had to say, and that was such a cool thing to experience.

Everything I have done with "Cancerboy" to date has been a new experience. Tonight, I told stories about my life that I never told to groups greater than one. And here I was, just spouting it all off the top of my head... it was cool. Very cool.

Damn, was that fun!

I keep hoping that stuff like this is just practice for the Oprah show, or something like that!

Anyhow, many many thanks to everyone who showed up tonight, and really, truthfully, thank you Sheryl for everything you did, and for being so great.

This weekend is gonna be crazy... got my fantasy football draft Saturday! Whoo-hoo! Football! So it might be a couple days before I post again.

Man, this is an amazing life...

Now playing:
"Mota Atma" by Tangerine Dream

One of my dearest friends, Peg, always tells me "you can never have enough friends!" And it's so true...

Because of my philosophy/logic problem (see earlier post), I never realize what I mean to my friends. However, I do know how important my friends are. If nothing else, my friends keep me alive, and full of new and fresh ideas. It is a result of this that I am able to make positive strides in the world that I perceive.

In an attempt to grab a firmer handle on marketing and selling "Cancerboy", I have invited a small group of friends and family over to brainstorm at the end of this week. I thought carefully about whom I wanted to invite, and what each person could contribute.

I have to say, I am very excited. In fact, with the minds and hearts I have invited, I believe we could build a rocket that could orbit the Earth... with maybe a little help from my rocket scientist friend in California...

So look out world, "Cancerboy" will be on the tip of your tongue before you even know it!

And for the record, I value the thoughts and input of each and every one of my friends and family. Those whom I didn't contact certainly do not mean any less to me!!

In the CD player:
"3 O'Clock High Soundtrack" and "Mota Atma" by Tangerine Dream
"Get Behind Me Satan" by The White Stripes
"Greetings From the Gutter" by Dave Stewart

Back on the bike...

Saturday, I went to Ann Arbor with Jon and Sue to do the AABTS' Dexter Breakfast Ride. We debated about whether to do the 38 or 48 mile ride, as the weather was looking pretty ill. So we figured we'd ride to Dexter - about 10 miles away, and see how we felt/how the weather was holding out.

Before we headed out, it started raining. We were told that if we saw lightning, "all bets are off... just hunker down and wait it out." And off we went...

Not even into our first mile, lightning arcs across the sky. So I looked back at Jon and Sue to see their reaction. Reading no sense of concern, and having very little concern myself, I kept pedalling.

After riding along for a bit, I dehydrated.

Okay, I didn't really, but I figured a lot of people out there would be disappointed if I didn't! :)

Anyhow, we plugged along, and the rain started falling like it was coming out of one of them sweet showerheads. I was wearing only my jersey and shorts, and was kinda cold. My shoes and socks had been soaked since mile 3.

So at mile 6, we stopped at a park entrance and considered our options. Seeing as that I'm not really smart when it comes to "things that happen while riding that are detrimental to my health", I was surprised to hear my voice say "I'm all for heading back".

We agreed to cut the ride short, and started back towards Ann Arbor. After climbing the hill we had just come down, I suddenly found the strength and drive to barrel ahead.

I was soaked to the bone, and chilled on top of that, so I thought it was prudent to get back as quickly as I could. As lightning and thunder tickled my eyes and ears, I occasionally looked down at my speedometer. It consistently read 17, 18mph.

Now and again, I could hear Jon behind me saying something, but I had become too focused to ask him to repeat himself. As I rode, looking for the best line around cracks in the road, I found myself "in the zone". "The zone" was a welcome place... like an old friend whom you miss dearly. I haven't been riding much or too well again this year, so it was rare to find "the zone".

I suddenly found myself "outside of myself", thinking "Damn, this is the greatest feeling in the world - this is the greatest ride in the world!"

And yet, all I wanted was to dry off and warm up a little.

So we eventually get back to the starting point, only to see all but 5 riders (which included Jon, Sue and I) still sitting there. They said that once they saw the lightning, they decided to wait it out...

Despite the ride only being 12 miles, I really enjoyed it. I felt strong, which is a great, great feeling!

This week is a busy one for me... The lecture at Gilda's Club is this Thursday, and I am still not sure what I am going to talk about! I've got a lot of ideas, but nothing is set in stone yet... It's a good thing that I'm a good planner!

Now in the CD player:
"Singles 45 and Under" by Squeeze
"Talkie Walkie" by Air
"Anthology" by Argent
"Get Behind Me Satan" by the White Stripes

Yeah, I've got stuff to say... but tonight was sort of a night off for me, and I took advantage of it, hanging out with my friend Ron Bacardi. So rather than saying anything particularly stupid, I thought I'd share some links/stories that I think are kinda interesting...

Rolling Stones are still rattling cages!

This site is humorous and intense - often at the same time!

Feel like you're getting robbed?

Forget reality TV... how about dealing with some reality?

And now for something completely twisted...

Canadians, Inuits and the English seem to know something we don't... (Gail turned me on to this stuff!).

And here is my fave band of the summer of 2005.

Ever hear of The Secret Machines?

Now HEAR is something sonically interesting!

And so the world turns. Make sure to catch the planet Mars this month... it's the closest to Earth than it will ever be again in our lifetime... as well as our grandchildrens' lifetime!

Rock on!

Volunteerism... what's up with that?

Before I got sick, I found that I had some extra time on my hands, and looked into volunteering. Instead, I decided to go back to school.

As I was finishing my radiation treatments, however, my doctor suggested that I look into volunteering for a cancer cause. As I was already feeling like I needed to give back, the idea of volunteering was obvious. The next day, outside the radiation department, I picked up a brochure for Gilda's Club.

A couple months later, I finally got around to meeting with the volunteer coordinator at Gilda's. It was December, and I helped set up for spa day. I had to leave to help my mom get her Christmas tree, but I was back at Gilda's to put everything back in place after spa day was over.

Volunteering got into my veins. A friend of mine asked me to be on the board of directors for Trips for Kids Detroit. So I did that, too. But I found that I didn't have quite the commitment to that. See, my thing was cancer, and not so much kids.

Through Gilda's, I met a woman who got me into volunteering at the Detroit Thanksgiving Day Parade studio. That was kinda cool... the parade is an icon in Detroit, and I wanted to be a part of it!

My heart, however, belongs to Gilda's Club. I have had a chance to meet a lot of amazing people there, and many have become close friends.

During the cool months, when I've finished cleaning up after a lecture, I like to sit in the community room with the lights down low, and perhaps some music playing. I ground myself, remembering where I came from, and what is really important in life.

People volunteer for many different reasons. Some volunteer as a result of having to put in community hours. Some volunteer to meet like minded people. Some are looking for a mate. Whatever the reason, whether it's from the heart or from necessity, I think the world would benefit if more people volunteered.

Some people these days feel that they are entitled to receive everything they can. I thought the "me" generation was in the 80s. And if so, perhaps this is the "gimme" generation.

I received an e-mail this week from Sheryl (who, by the way, I met at Gilda's Club!). I have a really hard time asking for help, and so does she. We were talking about our "problem", and she she passed along this quote to me:

“Giving is only one-half of the law of increase. Receiving is the other half. We can give and give, but we may unbalance the law unless we also expect to receive.”

But what about the opposite? What about Ivana and the Gimme Gimme Gimme's?

Wouldn't it be nice if school programs required some volunteer work? I think we'd all find out what the world was really about.

So even if you ladle out some chili at the soup kitchen on Thanksgiving, or clean up trash at the local park, give volunteering a shot... maybe you'll find out something amazing about yourself.

In the CD player:
"Minimum Maximum - Disc 2" by Kraftwerk
"Sohoman (Live in Sydney 1982)" by Tangerine Dream
"Mota Atma" by Tangerine Dream
Soft Machine Live Cuts

It's an extremely sad realization when you've worked very hard to carve out a promising career, then see it all go to hell. And the funky thing of it all is that I look at the career moves I've made, and wouldn't do anything differently.

Despite having an amazing life, I've really got some crappy luck. Sometimes I simply can't believe how I've gotten through everything I have. How many people would have stuck their head in the oven? I don't know, but I sure as heck might if this job situation doesn't start looking up!

Okay, that's probably not true...

But the question arises - what's keeping me going?

Simple... faith.

If I didn't have faith that all of this is happening for a reason, I'd have grown despondent long ago. Plus, I've got to have faith that something good will come out of it.

With my career in the crapper, I've put my faith in the thought that geting a Master's degree is the way to go, and perhaps I can revive some of my past victories in the career department.

Damn, typing that was really depressing!

I have faith that I've laid proper seeds for "Cancerboy" to become successful, and those seeds just need to be nurtured for a bit. But it's hard allowing the world to take its' course, and not having a hand in more of the inner workings.

The fact that we have less control over things than we think is also a sad realization. Mine came a week before my birthday in 2002... when my platelet counts were too low to receive chemotherapy. I was willing to do whatever I could to get those platelets high enough - heck, I'da even ate broccoli! But all I could do was wait... and it was frustrating as hell.

And I sit here frustrated yet again, wondering how full my little bag of faith is... and how much longer it will sustain me...

In the CD player:
"The Gemini Suite - Live in 1970" and "Who Do We Think We Are" - by Deep Purple
"In Your Honor - Disc 1" - by Foo Fighters
"Minimum Maximum" - by Kraftwerk

Between Thursday and today, I saw a lot of people who are near and dear to my heart - good people who help me realize what a special life I live. Of course, it never hurts when I get my ego stroked, either, and that happened a bit, too!

I fully agree with the concept of "good attracts good", but I'm constantly surprised when it happens to me. Having been raised Catholic, and studying more than a few other religions, I feel like I've got a pretty good understanding of what makes a good person. Of course, I'm sure my mom has a lot to do with it, too, since my brothers have the same understanding.

And so it is this understanding that guides me along the path of life.

Having studied Buddhism, I've come to believe in the concept of karma. But is this not the same as "good attracts good"? What about the golden rule?

And yet, when I spend time with the people surrounding me, or connect with them via telephone or e-mail, I think about what great people they are... how golden their hearts are... how amazing, intelligent and wonderful they are. I think about how lucky I am to have met these people, and how excited I am to see them. And when we part, there is always a little bit of sadness.

So, if I allow myself to believe that I am a good person, I only do it through logic:
1) Karma/good attracts good/the Golden Rule is truth.
2) The people I surround myself with are fricking amazing.
And therefore...
I am one lucky sonuvagun!

Izzit any wonder I got a D in college philosophy?

Now playing in the CD player:
"Sabotage" by Black Sabbath
"Vulnerable" by Tricky
"Finally Woken" by Jem
"Push the Button" by the Chemical Brothers
"Return of the Killer A's" by Anthrax

Dang, it feels like it's been a whole week since I last blogged! I don't know what happened, but time just kept getting away from me...

Well, today I find myself thinking about the media.

I fricking hate media. I hate the newspapers and I hate the newscasts. In reality, though, it's not the newspapers and newscasts I hate, but rather I can't stand how everything needs to be spun. Why do we need to hear about the plant explosion and how everyone is at risk of contamination? You know what? WE RE ALL AT RISK OF GETTING CANCER, GETTING HIT BY A TRUCK, AND CHOKING ON OUR OWN VOMIT!

Why do we have to hear about sports figures acting like jackasses? Why tell us about a movie star slugging paparazzi?

Personally, I don't care!

The biggest irony, though, is that the American public in general wants to know. They dictate what news is reported.

I just think it's a sad commentary on our country. I love living here, but sometimes I'd rather live somewhere else.

I truly believe that if everyone lived by the golden rule, then we'd all live in a better world. And that's all the news that's fit to print.

in the CD player:
"Roxy Music", by Roxy Music
"Hinterland" by Strange Cargo
"Insides" by Orbital
"Ricochet" by Tangerine Dream

Okley-dokley, tonight, I'm a little frustrated with the whole lack of a job and lack of book sales thing. So in order to dismantle my inner time bomb, I thought I'd play a little game.

Imagine you're asleep, and once you awake, you find yourself face to face with St. Peter at the pearly gates. St. Pete sees the
frightened look on your face and immediately puts his hand on your shoulder, calming you. He leads you away from the pearly gates to the most beautiful park you have ever seen. He motions for you to sit down, and asks if you would like something to drink. Since the environment around you is already intoxicating, you ask for a glass of iced tea. St. Peter gladly grants your wish.

At this point, St. Peter begins telling you that you have been given an opportunity that people have only blogged about: You are allowed to see five people - from any time in history - either one on one or all together... but you can only ask each person one question.

Who do you ask to see, and what do you ask them?

This is a prettty tough one for me. In fact, my answer could change on a daily basis. Nonetheless, I'll give it a shot:

"Sir," I would say after much thought... "I would like to meet Pope John Paul II."

After JPII walks in, I would try really really hard not to ask him if he'd like a glass of iced tea, or if he was comfortable, or something like that. I would eagerly look him in the eye, hoping to glimpse the soul of a modern day saint.

"What do you feel," I'd ask his holiness, "is the most admirable trait to have as a human being?"

And I'd hope like hell that I had a pad of paper and pencil available. Oh yeah, and I'd hope that I could understand the language he spoke to me in!

My next guest might be Leonardo DaVinci.

"What would you say was the secret(s) of your success?" I'd ask him.

Once I gained some of Leonardo's insight, I'd have St. Peter bring Winston Churchill over.

And my question for him would be "What makes a great leader?"

With Albert Einstein, I'd ask what his greatest accomplishment was.

My last one is somewhat of a copout. It would be extremely difficult for me to be with a friend or family member who had passed on, and only be able to ask them one question. I would want to talk for hours and hours. Days and days. And I'd want to laugh and cry and swap story after story.

That said, I'd probably ask to see my dad's mother. She's been on my mind lately, and I would like to ask her to tell me my family's history - from her point of view.

It might not be fair to ask such a question, but hey, it's my game!

And then, when I awake, I hope the answers to my questions are exactly what I need to become re-inspired... and employed.

in the CD player:
"Roxy Music", by Roxy Music
"Hinterland" by Strange Cargo
"Insides" by Orbital
"Ricochet" by Tangerine Dream

Weekends fricking ROCK!

Ever since I've had my bout with cancer, I have tried to make the most of my life. Oftentimes, this means taking advantage of the time I have to see people I don't spend enough time with.

Friday night, we visited my brother and his family. Things were sorta kooky from the get-go, so we didn't even arrive til after 9pm. With my sister-in-law being pregnant, I knew this meant we wouldn't be spending a lot of time visiting. Like with most of my family and friends, I don't feel like I ever spend enough time with my brother, so it is always a special treat for me.

When I got home, I was listening to WDET, and one song in particular caught my
ear. Well, it was more like it yanked me off my chair! After a few more songs, I found out that the song came from a Small Faces album, called "First Step". "Great googley-moogley!" I said to myself, "I have that on vinyl and never listen to it!!" So, at 2:30am, I pulled out the record and dropped it on the turntable... cranking it... with the windows and doors wide open...

So Saturday, we went to a block party in Westland then took off across town to a party at my cousin's casa on the East side.

The drive that shoulda taken 40 or so minutes, took us over an hour. I'd like to say right here and now that DETROIT ROADS SUCK ASS! With I-96 closed down to a single lane for construction, all it takes is one id-jit to cause and accident and shut the whole road down. And they did.

Well, we eventually arrived at my cousin's, and had a great time. I had quite a wonderful opportunity to bond with my already close cousins, and was blessed with the observation that I have achieved the biggest goal in my life - to make a positive impact on the world around me.

This came through my cousin, who explained how some things I've done with him, or just simply told him about helped him become the man he is. And he's a real stand up guy.

I love it when that happens!

Seeing as that today is Sunday, my time was wasted job hunting - shall I go off on that topic again?? Anyhow, I also needed to develop my Cancerboy marketing plan for this week, but just never really got around to it. I think it's already worked itself out by proxy anyway. After a week of feeling burnt out, I'm looking forward to hitting the ground running tomorrow!

Is everyone out there buying my book yet? Have you checked out www.milestogopress.com yet?

Hope everyone has a great week out there! Blog ya later!

This week, I got sick and tired. In my basement, there is a corner where little light shines. When I originally looked at the house, and ultimately decided to buy it, I never noticed the Brinkerhoff piano in the low-lit corner.

So after eight years of smacking myself in the forehead, I finally decided to do something about it - I wanted it out!!!

By looking at the piano, it became obvious that my house was built around the piano. There was no fricking way that someone was able to get that damn thing down the basement stairs! So a lightbulb went off in my head, and I decided that I needed to TEAR THE MUTHA DOWN!

With all due respect to the Brinkerhoff Piano Company, this piano was a very well crafted piece of art. I only felt bad tearing it apart after I had it down to the soundboard and saw someone's initials ("CLB") followed by a date (2-4-46).

Wow, I had completely destroyed a 60-year-old piano!

I needed to tell this story to get to my real point - pain.

Pain is relative. Pain hurts. Pain is exquisite.

On this beautiful Friday evening, I am sore as hell with bruises over my body. And I feel great!

I think there is a twisted part of us that can appreciate pain, as long as the overall event was rewarding. Look at cyclists... if you simply look at their faces while they are climbing a hill, you can tell they are in pain... but you really don't appreciate it until you try it yourself. When you get off that bike and your ass hurts, your legs cramp up, your back seizes up on you, you're hungry as hell and you see spots, you find yourself smiling, and saying, "Damn, look at what I did!"
And while you start to pass out, and you feel the relaxng calm of unconsciousness begin to wash over you, your head starts to pound...

Like a hammer, bashing the f*ck out of a 60-year-old piano.


Now in the CD player:

Since I was born on the cusp, I suppose it's fitting that my life now revolves around cancer.

Most people who read this blog are familiar with my cancer story. I used to be very afraid of cancer and people dealing with cancer.

The Lance Armstrong Foundation considers someone a cancer survivor from the moment they are diagnosed. I knew these people as freakishly colorless and hairless sick people.

Maybe I was afraid because they reminded me of ghosts, and I've never run into a ghost that I wanted to be close to - proximally or emotionally. Or maybe I was racist against white people.

(Digression: Dave Chappelle had a hilarious skit where a blind African-American was the leader of his local Ku Klux Klan. If you can wrap your mind around that, you can imagine the hilarity that ensues!)

But the plain and simple fact is that I didn't understand. It basically took Thomas Hodgkin to make me learn what a great man had already said: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."

And now, some of the most influential people in my life are cancer survivors and caregivers.

As a survivor myself, I have become a "go-to" person when someone else gets diagnosed. I hear about friends and family members, friends of friends and acquaintances who get diagnosed, and I run... to them, instead of away from them.

In some aspects, it's for these people that I wrote "Cancerboy". Read about my experience, and learn from what I've gone through and mistakes that I've made. Make the most informed choices possible, and know what the possible outcomes are.

As easy as it is for me to talk about, this topic is still uncomfortable. I know there are people who want to stay ignorant - ignorance IS bliss - and those people won't have read this far. But the reason I am writing this tonight is because I just had a conversation about cancer and chemotherapy, stemming from my wondering aloud how Carolina Panther Mark Fields is doing with his treatments following a second diagnosis of Hodgkin's Disease in three years.

I wondered if he would be following the same nasty protocol (or "regimine"... potato, tomato ;)) of Adriamycin, Bleomycin, Vinblastine and Dacarbazine or if he would be treated with a bone marrow transplant.

As a patient, I learned quickly how frigging nasty these drugs were... as a result of this conversation, I learned that they were wayyyyy nastier than I originally thought. Let's put it this way: chemotherapy puts new meaning to the phrase "killing yourself to get ahead".

As a result, I was reminded of how much love and compassion I have for my cancer community brethren. And still, despite all the crap we have gone/will go through, I have to agree with what Lance said: we truly are the lucky ones.

Much love and much peace...

Now in the CD player:

What's that smell??!

Oh, it's testosterone!

With football and hockey right around the corner, I just can't wait!

Over the past 10-15 years, I've come to love these sports. There's nothing like getting the guys together for the fantasy football draft, or to watch a great college football rivalry on the big screen.

There's also something pretty damn cool about being at a bar on a Sunday afternoon with your mother and her boyfriend, and your mom screaming at the big screen: "Hit him! HIT HIM!!" while clenching her fists so tight she draws blood...

She is, after all, the 2004/2005 office football queen!

And I guarantee you that I'm not the only one who has high hopes for the Lions this year! Whether it's Joey or Jeff winging the pigskin, I don't care... gimme victory, or at least a lot of fantasy points!!

Now hockey is gonna be weird. I really hope that it's able to survive the BS from this past year. When the baseball players struck in 1995, it really pissed me off. Ever since, I've had a hard time getting back into baseball.

But screw that, I'm ready for HOCKEY! Big names are moving all over the place. It'll be nice to see some teams that have been regularly beaten up (Panthers, Oilers, Penguins) show some muscle again.

I'm sorry, I just can't get into basketball. Houston did that to me. I'm not even a fairweather fan. So finally... the real winter sport is back.

Rock on, brothers!

Now in the CD player:

Is there a job anywhere out there?

Most people would kill to have the summer off. I used to be one. Yeah, it's nice getting up whenever, catching some rays, and staying up all night, but crap, this has gotten ridiculous!

Seeing as that every single job opportunity that comes my way has run into a glitch, I've taken that as a sign to get my book out there. It's nice, because I am passionate about my book - and how many people actually believe in their work product as much as I do?

Okay, probably more than I give credit for...

Nonetheless, marketing "Cancerboy" has been fun, interesting, yet somewhat frustrating.

See, I get tons of ideas, but when it actually comes to talking to someone about my book, I get embarrassed and nervous (watch me sweat!). For those of you who read the book, I explain this concept through the "claustrophobic magnification of the spotlight".

Someone told me, though, that I simply need to re-align my thinking. Instead of making it (and the spotlight) about me, make it about the book. Seeing as that I truly believe in my book and the good it can do in the world, that shouldn't be a problem. Weird thing, though... the book IS about me! Oy!

Anyhow, I've been pushing and pushing to get this book out, but I feel like I'm starting to burn out. I need a shot in the arm... something big to happen.

So Oprah, Lance, when you're done reading this, give me a call. Don't be afraid to leave a message... I might be out on the deck getting some sun.

Now playing on the stereo: WDET 101.9

With my first blog, I'd like to talk about something profound.

However, that probably won't happen.

I had been thinking about blogging for a while - thought it'd be something cool to do - but something always kept me from doing it.

I am so blessed with my friends and family... there are lots of them out there helping me come up with ideas how I can market "Cancerboy" . This blog was something my brother suggested, and since I'd thought about it in the past, I figured now was as good a time as any to get started.

While I learn some - no doubt - painful lessons how to blog like the blogging gods, I hope everyone sticks with this. You never know what comes into - and out of - my head!

Just to get things started, I'm spinning Abbey Road on vinyl, and thought I'd talk about a dream I had the other night.

In this dream, I attended a "show" about John Lennon. Why John Lennon?? I have no idea. Nonetheless, this show was one of the coolest things I've ever seen - in person or in a dream! In it, a John Lennon impersonator re-enacted some of the better known post-Beatles events - such as jamming onstage during the recording of "John Lennon - Live in New York City" . The band performed a few songs, then the stagelights went down, only to light up another section of stage, where actors were re-enacting the John and Yoko visit on the Mike Douglas Show...

After a couple of other scenes, the show finished up, and I went around to a side stage (the show was done on multiple stages around the theatre), and talked to the Lennon impersonator and got his autograph and got him to buy a copy of my book!

Now the really weird part is that I am not a huge fan of John Lennon. I respect and like a lot of his music, but I never really paid a whole lot of attention to the guy. So I had no reason to dream about him - nope, wasn't even listening to any of his music to trigger my memory. But since that dream the other night, I've noticed a whole lot of references to John on television and radio! WTF?!

So while we (I) ponder that, I reckon I'll put an end to blog #1.

Now on the turntable: