What's in a name?

This year, our dart team is struggling. We throw decent darts throughout the game, but we just can't seem to make that final - kill - shot.

We're lovers, not killers.

It's a family team, essentially... with my wife, my brother, my sister, my longest-known friend and another great guy, we all get along really well.

We're lovers, not killers.

Except for one guy on our team, who likes to go deer hunting. But besides that...

We're lovers, not killers.

Our team name, OBV2.0, is an extension from last year's team - Oddballz. OBV2.0=Oddballz, version 2.0. Yay, the mystery is out!

Because we are struggling this season, we have moments when the lover-side of us lapse. As a couple of us raised our shot glasses for a toast this past Friday, I suggested we name our team "Nads". That way, when we cheered ourselves on, we could say "Gooooo NADS!" and get a good chuckle out of it.

So what's truly in a name?

Sure, we could use dart-specific names like "Three in a bed", "What's the point?", "Bull shooters", "Just the tip", etc.... but that's so passe'.

We could use my name: "Matt's Maestro's".

Or use our relationship: "Family Affair".

Seeing as that we will be underdogs for the rest of the season, we could be "The Underdogs" and take up pseudonyms based on the characters: Shoeshine Boy, Simon Bar Sinister, Sweet Polly Purebread...

Maybe we need a mean name like "The Meanies" or "I'll Kick Your Ass if You Win".

But we can't.

We're lovers, not killers.

So for now, OBV2.0 will remain. But being underdogs, we realize that we may not be taken as a serious threat.

And this will give us the perfect opportunity to pounce - with our teeth bared and gnashing - aiming straight for the jugular.

Music is the best

According to Frank Zappa, in his song "Packard Goose", information is not knowledge. Knowledge is not wisdom. Wisdom is not truth. Truth is not beauty. Beauty is not love. Love is not music. Music is THE BEST...

I love the words and music of Frank Zappa. I have often thought about the conversation we would have if we had ever met.

Matt: Hi Frank. It's a pleasure to meet you.
Frank: Is it?
Matt: It sure is. I really enjoy your music and stuff you talk about.
Frank: Stuff like what?
Matt: Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

There doesn't seem to be too many stupid musicians, whose talents lie on the record store shelves. Frank would talk circles around me, even though I am a relatively smart person. In fact, I would bet that a lot of the musicians I love would talk circles around me.

Of course, I would have to talk to them about challenging topics. Sure, we might start out talking about the weather, but eventually, I would have to ask David Bowie where he gets his inspiration, and how he developed his method for writing lyrics.

I'd be spinning in moments.

I like intelligent music. Overly intelligent music like jazz goes way over my head. Instead, I like synchopated stuff. Stuff that throws you off balance and makes you think.

I also enjoy a good story sung to me. Give me a Jim Croce song, or James Taylor, Warren Zevon, Jackson Browne...

Warren Zevon wrote songs that make me want to be the main character. What sort of observer would tell the tale of London's werewolves? How much shit's gotta hit the fan before you'd have to cry out for lawyers, guns and money? Who would keep a busy schedule trying to fit in the seven deadly sins?

Crazy, man, crazy.

But what's wrong with simply having fun with music? One of my favorite rock and roll bands, Cheap Trick, keeps anger and profanity out of their songs. I loved the simple rock of early Van Halen and Aerosmith.

Most of the time, though, I use music to help me achieve a certain mood. When I write, or try to be artsy, I like to listen to introspective stuff like Pink Floyd, or krautrock like Neu or early Tangerine Dream.

To everything is a season
And a time for purpose under heaven.

For me, this is also true for music.

The record album turns, turns, turns. Our moods and lives change. Have you ever wondered what soundtrack would define a movie of your life?

I think mine would be as jam-packed as the 10-disc 70s music explosion collection...

...as seen on TV.

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

On October 23, 2002, I had my first beer in months. My mom, my aunt and uncle, all came over to watch the Red Wings on TV, and to celebrate the end of the most brutal time of my life.

I choked down a couple of beers and some pizza, my throat still screamingly raw from 17 sessions of radiation therapy. I think I smiled a lot. We all smiled a lot.

Every day since then has been filled with smiles. Some days were difficult, but most days it was easy to get a smile out of me.

And although one could say that my 2002 bout with cancer was the start of a bad luck streak, I still found a way through it. Lord knows, I don't know how I got through some of those dark days, but they are now behind me. And I try to never look back... ever.

Try.

Sometimes, I've learned, you have to look back. You have to look at the lessons you learned and you have to look at what you've accomplished. You have to identify these things in order to help others who may be going through the same thing.

I didn't go through my trials and tribulations myself. I had my family and friends available when and if I needed them. I don't know if I could have survived without them.

Lately, I've been feeling burned out on the cancer thing. The burden and commitment of being a survivor of the disease is huge.

In December 2002, I signed up as a volunteer at Gilda's Club Metro Detroit. Being less than two months out of treatments, I was overflowing with the need to give back. I visited the clubhouse often, and became somewhat of a fixture there.

Of course, it was there that I met my wife Sheryl.

While we were dating, Sheryl and I still participated a lot at Gilda's Club. With her support, I proceeded to develop two fundraising bike rides, where we hauled in nearly $30,000 to support the clubhouse that was always so good to us.

As a cancer survivor, you are always the local expert in cancers of all sorts. If Bob's uncles' grandmother was recently diagnosed with melanoma, and you had thyroid cancer, it doesn't matter... Bob will come to you for advice, and you will graciously try to help.

But I don't know if it is the passing of time, or the change of life I've experienced, but I don't have it in me right now to play the cancer game. I feel awful about it, because I still feel the obligation of the cured. Maybe I've just burned out and need to focus on some other things right now.

October 23, 2002 was the first day of the rest of my life. And I've taken complete advantage of it.

October 23, 2007 is the first day of the rest of my life. And I plan to take complete advantage of it.

It's no fluke that when I lay down to go to sleep every night, I thank God and the angels that surround Sheryl and I for an awesome day, and all of the opportunities that made themselves available. It's no fluke that I thank them for the time I spend with Sheryl. And it's no fluke that I ask them to bless our family and friends.

The Army gets more done by 6am than anyone else.

More power to them.

Are they really enjoying it, though? Are they truly living every moment?

Are you? Am I?

I know one thing for sure...

I'm trying like hell.

Have a great day. And a great day after that.

Nothing/Anything?

It's not often that I write a blog without a big idea behind it, and unfortunately, this will be one of the few.

I am sitting in our quiet house, trying to get a handle on having so much time on my hands. Since leaving Oshkosh, I haven't been working so many hours, and I feel like a part-timer only putting in 40-45 hours per week.

After visiting my doctor earlier this week, I was appalled at my weight, and should be doing something about it. However, yesterday, I rode on the trainer for the first time this season, and did something to my hip. It bugs me too much to ride and bugs me too much to do yard work. It bugs me, dang it!

Sheryl is still at work, so I decided to catch up a bit with all three or four of my blog readers, and let you know what I've been up to.

Last week, Sheryl and I took a couple of days off together. We vacationed in fabulous Ferndale. ON Thursday, we went to Slow's Bar B Q for a late lunch... MMMMMM YUMMMY! Then we went to the newly opened (and now striking) Motor City casino. We weren't too impressd, and still like the Greektown casino better.

Thursday night, I began putzing around with my latest project - the garage door opener. Now, I don't know what exactly happened, but I worked on that bitch for DAYS, and only this past Monday did I get it finished!

It was strange actually taking my time with a project, and making sure it was done right. In the past, I'd do it all half-assed and not care. Married life probably did that to me, but who knows? I can still blame cancer...

Saturday, we had another of our occasional tequila tasting parties. MMMMM YUMMMY!! Oddly enough, it had taken us five years of these parties before anyone purchased the same tequila as another had. In this case, my brother Van and I both bought a fifth of Casa Noble reposado. Fortunately, of the five tequilas we had, that one was the best. So we had to have a second shot of it!

The food - as usual - was AWESOME! MMMMM YUMMMY!! (are we beginning to understand my weight problem yet?) And this gets me to something else...

When I was in Oshkosh, I missed our first night of darts this season. I was seriously bummed, and Sheryl called to tell me that the team was having a lot of fun and doing pretty well, too. I thought about how Sheryl has embraced two of my favorite pastimes: darts and cycling. I thought I'd give one of her favorite pastimes a shot - cooking/grilling.

Because Sheryl seems to really enjoy cooking, I try to stay out of her way. I know that sometimes she would prefer me to cook, but I feel so out of place in the kitchen these days... so I think I'm gonna work on that. And as I get my feet wet, I'll probably lose weight... after all, have you TRIED my cooking?? ;)

Well, Blogger is scheduled to go down for maintenance in about ten minutes, so I reckon I should wrap this up...

I want to give a shout out (although he will likely never see this) to Saul Raisin - I just finished his book (Tour de Life), and was amazed how similar people are who survive brain injuries like him and survive cancer like me.

Roll on, Saul!
Take care of yourselves, folks...

Cheese n' Rice!

For almost the entire time since my last post, I have been sequestered just off Lake Winnebago in Wisconsin. Four weeks of cheese, Green Bay Packers and beer... oh, work, too.

I figure I spent 1/4 of my married life away from my new wife, and that sucked. In fact, a lot about this time away sucked.

But, like everything else, there is a silver lining... being terminally optimistic, I see that I possibly cemented my job at work. I earned time off, and helped people out.

Of course, I had no social life - and I'm a social person.

Instead, I would get back to the hotel, do some quick exercises, eat PB&J sammiches and call Sheryl. Then I'd watch TV until I went to sleep. Yow, was that boring!

So now it looks like I'm home for a while. I am looking forward to spending time with my not drunken punkin, weekends watching football, hanging with friends while playing darts on Fridays, and celebrating life.

On October 23 (two weeks from today), I will celebrate the 5-year anniversary of being cancer free. I call that date my "rebirthday". It reminds me how important life is, and how I should live my life - not taking things too seriously, having fun and making sure every important person in my life knows how I feel about them.

Many of our friends and family comment to Sheryl and I about how happy we are and how much fun we have. Between my ability to celebrate a rebirthday and Sheryl's understanding via work how short life is, we can't help but want to spend all of our time having fun.

Whenever we get some time away from work, wanna come out with us?