Come on, Dick, drop the ball... PLEASE!!!

Okay, we've established that not all things in 2005 were bad. One of the most exciting things for me was marketing "Cancerboy".

So as I eagerly await a brand new year, let's reflect on my favorite "Cancerboy" moments:

6. Book release - I mentioned this in my last post... how exciting to publish your own book!!
5. Mirror article - The 3/4 page article was a lot of fun to show around.
4. Ferndale library book reading - Even though 5 people showed up, it was exciting to discuss my book and field questions from the audience.
3. Lewiston library - In honor of my grandfather, who lived in Lewiston, I donated a copy of my book to the library. It so happened to be on the day that they were putting together the time capsule, and have a friends of the library party! Wow! Too cool to be a coincidence!
2. Book signing Memorial Day weekend - It was incredibly touching for so many loving people to come out and support the release of "Cancerboy".
1. Gilda’s Club book reading - This single event changed my life. To sit and talk about the devastating events in my life to a roomful of people, then point out how each event helped make me a stronger person was in-freaking-credible. This was a butterfly leaving its' cocoon moment that we captured on tape!

So this will probably be my last blog for 2005. I want to thank everyone who made this year more bearable, and everyone who came to my aid on so many different occasions.

May 2006 bring you and your loved ones much happiness, health and love.

Listing, Listing... part 2

Okay, seeing as that it is the end of a tumultuous year, I am presenting my top 5 worst events and top 6 best events of 2005. Tomorrow, I will be presenting my top Cancerboy moments.

Matt's Top Five Worst Events of 2005:
5. The war in Iraq - I hate the fact that this has been spun to the degree that if I question the war, I suddenly become un-American. Screw that!
4. Hurricane Katrina - I don't think that anyone will disagree... except for the face that it's not #1 on my list. Well, despite the happy holiday season, I'm feeling pretty selfish!
3. Hurricane Rita - Coming on the tail of Katrina, Rita did more damage in Florida than was covered by the news - which was still covering Katrina's impact in New Orleans.
2. Being out of work - See? I said I was selfish! With the employment being so shitty here in Michigan, no wonder so many college grads are moving out of state!
1. Having job for 5 weeks, then getting laid off - Talk about a tease! For me, this single event was comparable to getting knocked out by a Mike Tyson in his prime... I'm STILL reeling!

For me, in general, 2005 sucked. However, some amazing things still came my way.

Matt's Top Six Best Events of 2005:
6. Celebrating my birthday - After having had cancer, this will always be a highlight of any year!
5. Hamtramck festival - I hung out with my old friend Leonard, and along with Sheryl, we went to see the Hard Lessons. Great music and people who are very important to me... it don't get much better than that!
4. Trip down south/Tour de France w/ UJ - My three week excursion down South - Georgia, Florida and North Carolina, in search of work... and later in the year, I got to watch a stage of Lance's final Tour de France with my cycling guru Uncle Jack. Great memories.
3. Lilly’s birth/Mom’s surprise party - my niece was born while we were celebrating my mom's 60th birthday party. Now THAT is cool!
2. Publishing "Cancerboy" - I always wanted to leave my mark in life. And now that I am a published writer... registered with the Library of Congress... I think a mark has been made.
1. Meeting Sheryl - Hands down, the most influential (and positive) event of 2005 was meeting Sheryl. Being with Sheryl has taught me so much about myself and what I'd been missing in life. She hates it when I say this, but I wish so much that I had a job so I could treat her the way I think she deserves to be treated. When I close my eyes at night to go to sleep, I regularly thank God for Sheryl being in my life.

Listing, Listing...1, 2, 1, 2

Okay, so it's technically Wednesday and I haven't started my "Best Of 2005" lists yet... To catch up, I'm posting the first two tonight.

Here we go...

Matt's Top 5 Guilty Pleasures of 2005: (in no particular order...)
Survivor
Nip/Tuck
Biggest Loser
Pink is the new blog
Post secret

Favorite CDs: (possibly not released in 2005 and in no particular order)
Wilco - Kicking Television: Live in Chicago
Nikka Costa - Cantneverdidnothin'
Chemical Brothers - Push the Button
Gorillaz - Demon Days
Goldfrapp - Black Cherry (prior to 2005)
Zero 7 - When It Falls (prior to 2005)
Beck - Guero
White Stripes - Get Behind Me Satan (includes "My Doorbell", which Sheryl doesn't like) ;)
Eric Clapton - Back Home
Stan Ridgway - Snakebite (2004?)
Green Day - American Idiot

Bonus List:
Best Concerts of 2005:
Wilco (Meadowbrook Theater, June 21)
Stan Ridgway (Magic Bag)
Nikka Costa (Magic Bag)
Los Lobos (Tastefest, June 28)
Aerosmith (Palace of Auburn Hills, December 15)

Tannenbaum
Christmas 2005

Searching the lot for the perfect Christmas tree, I wandered amongst the pines. From the corner of my eye, I spied the perfect specimen hiding in the back.
Jingle bells jangled in my head while I bundled my coat against the winter air, making my way into the mini-forest of festive evergreens.
The wonderful pine aroma made my olfactory nerve dance, triggering memories from years gone past.
I smiled to myself as I remembered the holiday faces of my family – my mother, father, grandparents, brothers, aunts, uncles and cousins – smiling and laughing.
As I glided from one memory to the next, I suddenly realized that I hadn’t been paying attention to where I was going.
Somehow, I got turned around. I was lost!
I tried retracing my footprints in the snow, but it proved futile.
So I stopped and stood quietly – looking, searching – trying to regain my bearings.
There was a sound – the sound of something or someone sneaking up on me.
I pressed my back against a tree and raised my arms and leg – the crane pose.
– Heck, it worked for the Karate Kid, why not me? –
Standing statue-like, I saw a flash of something red beyond the brush ahead of me. Then a flash of green. And another!
I cautiously stepped away from the tree and made my way to the brush.
Peering through some branches, I saw what appeared to be a group of children decorating a Christmas tree. Even weirder – they wore long green jackets, caps and shorts!
I wiped my eyes, unsure of what I’d seen, and stepped a little closer.
“What do you suppose is going on?” a voice in my head asked. “What in the world are they doing?”
I froze, suddenly realizing that it wasn’t a voice in my head - somebody was speaking to me!
Shocked, I spun around.
Standing in front of me, was a familiar man dressed in a familiar red suit, laughing a familiar laugh.
“Ho! Hohohoho!” he snorted.
He was laughing so hard that I thought he was going to pee his pants!
“You should have seen the look on your face, Matt!” he chuckled as he wiped tears from his eyes.
It was happening again. It’s been happening nearly every year lately. I opened my mouth as if I had something to say.
“Come with me, son,” Santa said. He put an arm around me and led me through the brush.
“The elves and I are decorating a Christmas tree for the reindeer. We do it every year.”
“Ummm… why?” I asked.
“Because reindeer don’t have hands!” He held his belly as he laughed. “Ho! Hohohoho…”
I smiled.
“Anyway,” Santa continued, “I thought I heard something in the woods over there and went to investigate. You never know when you might run into a bear… or a crane! Ho! Hohohoho…”
I laughed. Obviously, he saw my awesome Karate Kid impersonation.
“So… Would you like some hot chocolate?”
“Sure!” I said, remembering last years’ velvety cocoa treat.
Santa stepped to a big red bag and pulled out a thermos and a huge mug. He poured a steaming cup of hot chocolate and handed it to me.
“How did I get here, Santa? I’m obviously not in the Christmas tree lot.” I looked around and felt a twinge of panic. “And…how will I get back??”
“Well, you might not realize this, Matt, but every time you have a happy memory of Christmas, it brings you closer to me. Were you having a lot of Christmas memories before I found you?”
“Why yes, I was!”
One of the elves had given me a handful of tinsel, and I began draping it over the pine branches while sipping the best hot chocolate I’d had in nearly a year.
“When you’re ready to leave, just let me know. I’ll show you the way back.”
“You mean you don’t mind if I stick around?!”
“Of course not!” Santa replied. “Besides, the elves have a hard time reaching the higher branches.”

So I helped Santa and the elves decorate the tree and drank hot cocoa.
Soon, however, my eyelids started getting heavy. I struggled to keep them open, but eventually gave into my weariness, closing them only for a moment – just to give them a rest.
When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in my car in my own driveway. Stupefied, I stepped out of the car only to find a gorgeous Christmas tree strapped to the roof!
I reached into my pocket for my keys and found a hand-scribbled note.

Many Christmas blessings, my friend… to you and your friends and family!
Share the magic of Christmas with them as you have with us. The reindeer love the tree!
By the way, I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Claus and I really enjoyed your book! You’ve got a real talent and we wish you great success!
Happy holidays… and remember… you better be good, for goodness sake!
Santa

I smiled and stuffed the note into my pocket. I unstrapped the tree and took it into the house.

Like a Reindeer in the Bikelights…
Christmas, 2004

I was lying on my back in the cold, wet snow,
Knocked from my bike by a deer in the road.
I was seeing stars in the still, black night, as I carefully reviewed my mental checklist:

Can you move your toes?
(Wiggle) Yup.
Fingers?
(Wiggle) Yup.
Feel the cool breeze on your cheeks?
Pause. That’s a 10-4…

My breath caught up with me,
And I gasped the frozen air into my lungs,
Coughing, coughing, coughing…

Stiffly, sorely, I stood up, brushing snow from my clothes.
I grabbed my battered bicycle, crawled out of the ditch, and nearly stepped right into

Huh?

I vigorously shook my throbbing noggin, and rubbed my eyes.
Strangely, Santa Claus was still standing in front of me!
As the high pitched whine in my head began to subside,
I heard him chuckle.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Matt,” he said,
“We always seem to run into each other this time of year, don’t we?”

“Santa?” I said incredulously, reaching out to touch his coat just to see if this was real.

He chuckled again.
“Prancer stopped to tinkle,” Santa explained,
“Unfortunately, you startled him just as he was getting ready to take off and rejoin us.”

As Santa waved his white glove towards the middle of the road,
I noticed for the first time, a sleigh and reindeer!

One of the deer stepped forward, and gently licked my cheek.
“Oh, look,” Santa said, “Prancer says he’s sorry.”

I patted the animal on the forehead.
“Sorry I startled you, Prancer,” I heard myself say.

Although I’d never before seen a reindeer smile, I’d swear Prancer did just that as he stepped back to join the other reindeer.

Santa looked at the sky.
“Beautiful night tonight.
But then again, Christmas is always beautiful…
Matt, we’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

I laughed. I laughed so hard, I heard my voice echo through the evening air.
It was a great sound.

I saw Santa steal a look at his watch. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to leave.

“Santa,” I said, “I don’t suppose you have any of those amazing chocolate chip cookies that Mrs. Claus bakes…
I’ve been riding for a couple of hours and could use some extra oomph to get me home…

Santa smiled and winked.
“You made quite an impression on Mrs. Claus when you came to see us in North Pole years ago.
She asks me to check on you every once in a while, and every year, she asks me to drop off some cookies at your house.
Sometimes, though,” he patted his belly, “I accidentally eat them before I get to Ferndale.
But since it’s early, I still happen to have a few.
Come on over to the sleigh with me.”

I swung my bike around next to me.
To my amazement, my battered bike was as good as new!

When I turned to Santa, he was already holding out a steaming chocolate chip cookie.
“Would you like some milk to wash this down?” He asked.

I smiled.
“No thanks, Santa,” I said, pulling a bottle from its cage on my bike.
“I’ve still got a little… hot chocolate… in my thermos bottle?”

I shook the bottle. It was warm and completely full!

“Santa…” I began to ask.

“Matt, you have a good heart.
I’ve seen the things you’ve done throughout the year.
I sense the love you have within you – for your family and friends.
Mrs. Claus and I both admire that.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

Santa continued:
“Share your love at Christmas; Matt… it’s the greatest gift you can give.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Merry Christmas, Matt. To you, your family and friends.
You better get a move on, though; if you’re gonna get to your Mom’s in time to open presents!” Santa laughed.

I smiled.
“Thank you, Santa! Merry Christmas! To Mrs. Claus, too!”

I swallowed the last of the cookie with a gulp of rich hot chocolate, and waved into the sky as Santa and his reindeer took to flight.

Hopping on my bike, I clicked in my shoes, and danced on the pedals,
Fa-la-la-la-la-ing the final 10 miles home.

More Than Just Any Other Day
Christmas, 2003

As dawn approaches,
I sleep with the spirits of Christmas -
Who comfort me with dreams
Of Christmases past
And hopes
For Christmases future.

As I awake on another magical Christmas morning
- To the music of church bells and snowblowers -
I smile and stretch and rub my eyes.
I lie there, staring at the ceiling,
While childhood Christmas memories
Energize my mind.

After weeks of pre-Christmas stress,
I take a moment to acknowledge these memories
And realize that not just any day evokes these thoughts in my head.

It’s Christmas –

A day of love and joy and peace.
A day to celebrate family and friends.
A day to welcome the warm embrace of childhood mysteries.
A day when dreams come true…

I get out of bed, and wander into the kitchen.
On the table sits the plate of cookies I left for Santa last night –
Empty, next to a glass of half-drunk milk.

I smile, loving Christmas tradition,
And I notice the red voice mail light blinking on my telephone
- Although the phone never rang.

I dial the voice mail number.
“You have one unheard message…” the voice mail lady says, “First message…”

The voice of my dreams, my memories, my loved ones,
The voice of angels, of god, of Santa?
“Merry Christmas, Matt,”
The voice says, surprisingly overwhelming me to near tears,
“Merry, MERR-R-RY Christmas!”

There was no call on the caller ID,
And no name left with the message.
And instead of wondering who would have called,
I grin and hang up the phone.

Santa or god or angels,
Or the spirits of loved ones, my memories or dreams.
The magic of Christmas does funny things.
But that’s what makes it magic.
And that magic is what makes Christmas more than just any other day.

Seeking Essence
Christmas 2002

Beneath the Christmas sky,
In the calm, bright silent night,
I scan the stars
And send salutations across the universe.

The frosty air burns my throat,
I smile so hard I think I might cry,
And talk inwardly to those who have transitioned.
I thank them for all of their help -
For I am a lucky man.

Momentarily, I will step inside the warm, glowing house
And surround myself with the people I love most.
I will miss those who are somewhere else,
And toast them and their families.

In the meantime,
My eyes watch for Santa and his reindeer.
And though my chances of catching a glimpse are slim,
I could never get too old to hope to see
My essence of Christmas magic–
The jolly man himself.

The Christmas Dream
2001


I was riding my bike in Alaska,
And stopped at North Pole.
I spoke to Santa, and Mrs. Claus fed me homemade chocolate chip cookies.

The dream was so real that I could still smell the cookies.

Then I heard it again… the sound of faint whispering coming from elsewhere in the house.
I stepped into my fuzzy bunny slippers and pulled on my robe.
I reached for the baseball bat in the closet and leaped into the hallway.

Down the hall, the warm glow of twinkling Christmas tree lights bounced along the walls…
But didn’t I turn off the lights before I went to bed?

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered that it was Christmas morning –
ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN!

My heart began to race, and adrenaline pumped through my veins as I peeked around the corner into the living room.

There was a quick flash of light, did I see…?!?! Nah! Couldn’t be!

Convinced that I was seeing things, I got back to business.
I cocked the baseball bat on my shoulder, ready to give any intruder a surprise.
My breath came in short bursts, and I listened intently to the silence –

After checking the doors and windows, I slowly caught my breath.
I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade.
Hey… didn’t Santa offer me Gatorade in my dream?

I plopped down on the couch and rested my fuzzy bunny feet on the coffee table.
Looking at the Christmas tree, I became mesmerized by the blinking lights.
My eyes grew heavy, but snapped open, as I became very aware that something was different.

In the corner, partially hidden by the lighted tree, was a brightly wrapped box with a large red bow on top.
I stood up and glanced briefly into the kitchen…
Hey, is that a plate of cookies?

I walked curiously to the kitchen table.
Sure enough, there was a paper plate of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap.

Sticking out from underneath the plate of cookies was an envelope.
Gingerly, I slid the envelope from under the plate.
In thick letters, that could be mistaken for my mom’s writing, was written my name.

“Dear Matt,” the letter inside began,
“It was most wonderful meeting you last year in North Pole.
We kept tabs on you in Montana this year, and although you had knee problems, we were encouraged that you were able to help others have a terrific experience!”

I was frozen with disbelief, but continued reading:
“Here is a plate of chocolate chip cookies. I remember that you were very fond of them.
“I hope you and you family have a most magical Christmas, and your wonderful friends as well!”
It was signed:
“Mrs. Claus”

“Ho-lee shhhh…” I muttered.
I ripped the plastic wrap from the cookies. Unbelievably, they were still warm!!!
I sank my teeth into the delicious treat and turned my attention back to the box in the living room.

I kneeled down next to the box, which was nearly two-feet tall.
“To Matt”, the label on top said,
“From Santa”.

As I moved the box closer to me, I noticed it was nearly weightless.
I sat down cross-legged, smiling like a kid,
And tore at the big red bow and brightly colored paper.

I pulled open the box and eagerly reached inside.
There was a picture.
In the light of the Christmas tree, I recognized the picture from last Christmas Eve.
I smiled, remembering how amazing Christmas seemed last year.

I set down the photo and reached back into the box.
There was another picture, circa mid 1990’s.
Again, I happily relived warm Christmas thoughts.

I reached into the box again and again.
Each time, there was a single photograph,
And each photograph triggered another beautiful Christmas memory.

Near tears now, having gone through Christmas pictures that spanned my entire life,
I again reached into the box.
This time, I pulled out a card.

It read:
“May the happy memories of Christmases past
Fill your pores with the true spirit of Christmas.
Merry Christmas!
Love, Santa”

I hate to admit it, but I cried.
When the tears finally abated, I awoke my sleeping legs.
To my amazement, the photos had disappeared,
But the card remained in my grip.

The clock struck 6am.
I placed the card on the kitchen table next to the cookies and went back to bed,
Hoping to dream about Santa and Mrs. Claus,
So I could thank them for such amazing gifts.



I wish you all the great things in life – not just at Christmas, but always!

A Visit to Santa’s House (in North Pole, Alaska)
Christmas, 2000

It was August 21st.
Standing at an outpost in North Pole, Alaska, I noticed a huge house with a cheerful red door.

I pondered… I wondered… I hoped… and knocked.

A white-haired woman with a child-like smile answered,
Welcoming me with chocolate chip cookies… still warm from the oven.

I stepped inside.
“Hi,” I said, “I’m –“
“Matthew Cummings,” she smiled, “from Michigan.
You’ve come to Alaska with all those other amazing bike riders.
I’ll tell you this, “ she said with a wink,” every one of you will have a fantastic Christmas!!”
She caught herself. “I’m sorry, I am Mrs. Claus. Are you here to see my husband?”
I blushed. “Is he here?”

Mrs. Claus beckoned me down a long candy cane striped hallway.
“Honey!” She yelled, “We have a visitor! One of those nice bicyclists!”
From around a corner, I heard a booming voice.
“Ho! Ho! Ho! How wonderful!”
My palms were suddenly slick with sweat. I was going to meet THE coolest guy on the planet!

And there he was.

He was a hearty man, standing 6 feet tall and weighing 275 pounds.
His bright, wavy white hair, mustache and beard were stunning.
He extended a warm toymaker’s hand.
“How do you do?” He said, beaming.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t say a word.
“Y-Y-You’re Santa!” I stammered.
Santa howled with laughter, his jelly belly rolling beneath his flannel
(I guess he already knew who he was).

“Would you like something to drink?” Santa asked, offering me a glass of Gatorade.
Numbly, I accepted, unable to take my eyes from him.
“So how do you like Alaska?” he asked, breaking the spellbinding silence.
I slowly came to my senses and smiled.
“I love it, Santa.”
“Nice clothes,” he laughed, commenting on my cycling apparel.
I grinned. Cyclists really do dress funny!

“Santa,” I said, “I’d like to ask a favor.”
He smiled warmly. “Of course.”
“This Christmas, instead of presents, could you give me the insight to provide my friends and family a Christmas writing that lets them know how much I love and appreciate them - not just at Christmastime, but all year long?”

Santa paused and pulled at his beard, seeming to search for the right words.
“Matt,” he finally replied, “they already know.”
He smiled, “How about if I order up some snow for your bike ride here in Alaska, instead?”
It was my turn to laugh. Like it would actually snow in August!

“Well,” I sighed, “I have to go ride my bike now. Thanks for everything, and thanks to Mrs. Claus for the awesome cookies.”
Santa shook my hand, and walked me to the door.
As he patted me on the back, he said, “Tell everyone I said hi, and make sure they know that I’m watching them, so they’d better be good… for goodness sake!”
“Okay, Santa, I will! Merry Christm - “

I turned around.

Santa was gone.

Santa’s house was gone.

In its place,
Laid a partially eaten chocolate chip cookie…
Still warm from the oven.

Christmas Week Blogs...

Years ago, I wrote a Christmas poem and included the poem in each Christmas card I sent out. People loved it, and soon, people were looking forward to my next Christmas poem.

This week, I intended to start my 2005 Lists, but instead decided to share a few Christmas poems from years past. The 2005 lists will be posted next week.

Hope you like the poems!

Have a Merry Christmas!

How Now?

Well, since my last post, I got laid off again. How's that for things that suck?? Five frigging weeks I worked there!

I could bitch my heart out, but I won't. You never know who reads these things...

Anyhow, I wanted to let you know that I am in the development phase of a blog project - Matt's lists of 2005. Starting sometime next week, I will be presenting my "best of" lists for 2005. Will you be on my best dressed list?

I can guarantee you won't. Who am I to come up with a best dressed list?? If it's not KMart's best...

I can't tell you how excited I am that 2005 is nearly over - despite the occasional moments of brilliance, this year has sucked ass.

Despite that, 2005 has offerred interesting opportunities, and it's these that I will be talking about in the near future.

Keep on the lookout! :)

What’s in the bag, dad?

December 7, 1941 – Pearl Harbor - was a day that will live in infamy.

My dad was born 366 days later – on December 8, 1942. If he was still alive today, he’d be 63 years old.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Since 2000, my life has gotten even crazier than it had been in the previous millenium. I feel that some of my biggest accomplishments and failures have occurred since then, and oftentimes, I wonder what my father would have said and done.

How proud would he have been when I rode across Alaska and Montana? How crushed would he have been with my Hodgkin’s diagnosis?

How disappointed would he have been when I was out of work for a year? How thrilled would he have been when I published my book?

My dad died of a heart attack on March 14, 1991. He was 48 years old.

My dad has been a source of a few of my life goals. The biggest: live life without regret. The second: live to be at least 49.

It’s a shame that most of the time I spent while my dad was alive was struggling to understand myself, struggling to understand my dad and struggling to understand our relationship.

As an adult, I see my friends and brothers relate to their kids, and I understand why parents do things. I failed to achieve that wisdom while my dad was alive.

I miss my dad. Sometimes moreso than others. I do know that he watches out over me – sometimes it’s unquestionable.

And if we simply cease to exist when we die, I don’t want to know. I want to believe that when I think of my dad, or talk to him still, that he’s there listening.

Smiling and nodding his head, happy to see how his son has grown up – and matured.

Dumela!

When I was training for the Montana AIDS Vaccine Ride (MAVR) in 2001, I met Nanky Seoke – a native Botswanan girl, who was going to school at Central Michigan University.

We never actually met face-to-face until we arrived in Montana, but we shared a lot of correspondence (on a ride like the 7-day 575-mile MAVR, you need as much support as possible!).

Through Nanky, I learned about the serious plight of AIDS in her home country. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, and entire families were dying. AIDS was (is) a plague in Botswana – one like we’ve never seen in America - and Nanky devoted 2001 to the ride that could help save her fellow countrymen.

During our correspondence, Nanky taught me some African phrases, but the only one I still remember is “dumela” (pronounced “doo-MAY-lah”), which means “Hello”.

Once we got to Montana, we had a “Michigan rider meet and greet” at a local bar, and Nanky and I spent a lot of the evening talking. I was interested in her thick accent and stories or Botswana. I loved it when she told me that it took nearly a month to get acclimated to American food – particularly hamburgers. She said our food tasted terrible! I’d never really thought about it like that before.

Montana was the only time I’d seen Nanky. Ever since, we’ve shared e-mails and an occasional card or note. Nanky had a hard time acclimating to the Michigan weather, and continued her studies at Howard University and Florida State University.

Recently I heard from Nanky again. She was nearly finished with her book on health and recreation. Her goal in life is to open a recreational center in her home village of Mochudi.

She also told me that she was done with her studies and was flying back home to Botswana. She’s leaving this weekend.

Nanky is a driven girl, and I expect one day to receive a flyer for the grand opening of Nanky’s recreation center. And you can bet your ass that if I ever get the chance, I will go there to show my support for this shining star.