Crazy is just another point of view...

Sometimes life just gets freakishly crazy. For me, that time is right now.

Despite what it may sound like, I am not complaining. I enjoy being busy, as long as I know there will be a chance to relax after the work is done.

These days, "the work" includes getting the house in shape after Sheryl moved in, and preparations for our big Frankie Andreu lecture at Gilda's Club on Wednesday, kicking off the Gilda's Riders fundraiser.

Keeping up with these things while maintaining 2 nights of darts per week and one night of tai chi is pretty difficult. That's the only reason I'm glad that both dart seasons are over for me.

Let me take a step back, though, and talk a bit about Sheryl moving in. Prior to her move, I worked at fixing up the bedroom - it was the only room in the back of my house that hasn't been touched since I moved in back in December 1996. I removed carpeting, replaced a ceiling fan, and painted, painted, painted!

Once she moved in, though, we had to find a place for Sheryl's stuff... combining 2 households into 1 has been interesting. But the nice thing is that both of us realize that our stuff is simply "stuff", and we are finding that we have an attachment to only a few things. Everything else goes in a garage sale!!

While still wading though that "stuff", we have been dedicating a lot of time to "Gilda's Riders". From developing a logo and flyers to discussing sponsorship levels, we have been neck deep in this project. Fortunately, we have had amazing support from some friends and family members, which has taken much of the stress of us, so we can deal with getting our house together.

Nonetheless, things have been extremely stressful. Although I'm nearly 40, I still consider myself pretty young, though, and can handle the stress for now. Once we get past the phrenetic preparations of Frankie's lecture, we'll have a brief moment to breathe before the second wave hits...

It's all good. I love my life and I all but one thing about it right now. That one thing is that I had a second interview with a company that seemed right up my alley last week, but they apparently went with someone else. Really took the wind right outta me.

But... everything happens for a reason, and I know that something amazing awaits me each time I get out of bed.

And I can't wait to find out what it is!!!

Gilda's Riders FAQs, part 1

It's not always easy to fully explain your own concept. Being too close to the issue, it's hard to step back and look at broad issues. As a result, I have invited some people to ask questions about the Gilda's Riders fundraiser for Gilda's Club. Here is part one:

What happens if I am 1/2 way through the ride and can't make it all of the way?

The Big Mac ride - which we wil be doing - has 25, 50, 75 and 100 mile courses. Although it is our goal to train for the 100 mile ride, riding the 100 miles is not required. You can choose to ride a shorter distance. Also, the ride will have a sag wagon available. If you have problems or need help, someone will be by to help you out.

Do all of the funds I raise go directly to Gilda's Club?

Yes, yes, yes! There is a planning committee, and a group of other people, who are working to find Gilda's Riders sponsors - companies that will donate to the cost of the event in return for their logo being placed on our jerseys for advertising purposes. However, as a rider, ALL donations you receive will go directly to Gilda's Club Metro Detroit.

What kind of support will be available for me during the ride? (Water, ambulance, etc.)

The ride course has plenty of water and food stops, and as I mentioned, there are regular drive-bys from sag wagons

Are there any places to take a break for lunch, or to use the bathroom?

Every 10 miles or so, there are break stops, where you can get some food, fluids and relieve yourself as well. In addition, there are plenty of wooded areas if you can't quite hold it...

What happens if it rains? Is there an alternate date?

The event will take place on September 16, rain or shine.

Well, that's all for now! Stay tuned!

Bee Busy

Things will start slowing down a little bit now, and I might be able to post a little more often. I am looking forward to focusing on riding again - especially since the warmer weather seems to have broken here in the midwest...

ATTENTION BICYCLISTS
(AND CYCLING WANNABE’S)!

Gilda’s Club Metro Detroit is now recruiting individuals
in search of an amazing journey!

¨ Do you have something to prove to yourself?
¨ Do you believe that you can be an even greater source of inspiration to someone you love?
¨ Do you want to support Gilda’s Club?
¨ Do you believe in aiming high?

Become a part of something BIG… join Gilda’s Riders!
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
With the help of
2-Time Olympian and 9-Time Tour de France rider
(and Lance Armstrong teammate)
Frankie Andreu…
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Our goals are:
¨ to help you train for and ride up to 100 miles in one day

in Mackinaw City, MI in September 2006, and;
¨ to raise at least $2,500 for Gilda’s Club Metro Detroit!

TOGETHER, WE CAN DO IT!!

For more information, please contact:
Michelle Warren Matt Cummings
(248) 577-0800 or (248) 547-8033
mwarren@gildasclubdetroit.org mattc2k3@yahoo.com

Miles to Goal...

Recently, I blogged about how my Hodgkin's diagnosis altered my ability to set goals. I said that I haven't figured out how to regain my goal-focus.

Well, things have improved dramatically.

They say that the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. I've recently realized that my lack of goal setting was a problem, and it hindered any attempts I made at achieving the great things that I've been put on this planet to do.

So I started training in the morning before I went to work, riding 10 miles prior to eating breakfast and taking a shower. Riding has always helped clear my head, but it wasn't solely the riding that helped me out this time.

When I get into the shower, I repeat my daily affirmations over and over. Then, on my way into work, I shut off the car radio and really come to terms about myself, my life and my future. It has been the best silence ever.

I finally came to understand that I am a helper by nature. I don't require riches or toys. I don't require fame or the spotlight. However, I am willing to take on all of those things if it will help someone or something else.

Unknowingly, Sheryl has helped me understand a lot more about myself than I expected. Her love and support gives me a safety net. She's always behind me, rooting me on, and seeing as that I've never allowed anyone to do that for me before, I'm realizing what I've missed out on.

A few weeks ago, I sat down and forced myself to envision a future. My experience with cancer made me realize that today may be our last, and that is how I lived my life for nearly four years. This was my downfall.

Although it is incredibly important to realize that life is precious, and that each breath could be our last, we still need to plan for the future.

For me, my future is now paved with goals, and I feel like a complete person again. I am hungry and ambitious. I am extremely happy and gratious.

I can't wait to see how much more amazing my life will be!

The Pressure (in the tires) Is On!

The other day, I was telling Sheryl that I can't wait to blog about important stuff, rather than blogging about personal updates. Well, guess what?? Important stuff rears its head!

Yesterday, I sent out an e-mail, discussing the bike ride fundraiser I'm doing for Gilda's Club. The meat and potatoes:

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Each September, there is a ride that occurs in Mackinaw City, called the "Big Mac". A person can ride 25, 50, 75 or 100 miles during this one-day bike tour.

I had the idea that we could get a team of people together and train to accomplish the 100 mile route. In addition, we could get each person to raise a minimum of $250. Occasionally, riders might answer questionnaires and perhaps even document their journey in a notebook. They might even be interviewed.

All of this documentation would be put together into a book, which could also be sold to generate additional funds for Gilda's Club.

To motivate us, I thought it would be cool to have a local cycling celebrity come do a presentation at Gilda's Club. Well, not only did 2-time Olympian and 9-time Tour de France rider (not to mention long-time teammate of Lance Armstrong and OLN commentator) Frankie Andreu agree to this, but he also offerred to develop training plans to help us achieve our goal, PLUS, he agreed to do a training ride with us as well!

This event has suddenly become a series of exciting possibilities for Gilda's Club, and although it's still early, I have a goal for this event to raise $7,000 - not including the proceeds from the book.

Here is where I am in great need of help. I am seeking riders, donors and sponsors.

Riders - join my team and challenge yourself to train and ride 100 miles (the cycling equivalent of a marathon) in Mackinaw City in September 2006. Each rider will be required to raise a minimum of $250.

Donors - Gilda's Club is a non-profit organization. Donations are tax-deductible. Personally, I am seeking to raise $1,500, so a donation of any amount would be appreciated and put to great use at the clubhouse.

Sponsors - the team of riders will be dealing with transportation issues, to and from Mackinaw City, as well as bike supplies and Mackinaw City accommodations. We are looking for companies willing to sponsor us to help offset those costs. Each sponsor will have their logo printed on our team jersey, which will be worn during training rides, and at the Big Mac ride itself.

I am also on the lookout for a handful of planning committee members. Lord knows I can use more input!

If you - and/or anyone you know - are interested in knowing more about any of these opportunities, please please PLEASE contact me and let me know. I would be happy to provide further details. Heck, I'll bring you to Gilda's Club and show you what a wonderful place it is, and why it's worth participating in this event!
##################

I never know who is reading my blog, so I wanted to put the info out here and see what sort of response I get. I am really excited to take this journey and see where it ends up. The money will help keep Gilda's Club providing much needed support for people who are experiencing cancer - either their own or a loved one's.

Well, that's about it for now... blog ya later!

Whirlwind, whirl!

I've got to admit... right now, my life is amazing. Crazy. Crazily amazing.

Prior to being treated for Hodgkin's Disease, I was goal-oriented and successful. I had recognized that my career was starting to go nowhere, and thought I'd head off into a new direction - in occupational therapy. Well, the universe had other plans for me. I got sick and although I survived, my life was turned upside down.

I wanted to do everything, and not miss a single opportunity. I wanted to have fun for the rest of my life... and that's exactly where I headed. Jobless, I met an amazing girl, but wasn't able to give her the things I wanted to give her. Heck, I couldn't even afford flowers.

Then I got that five-week job, and getting laid off from there REALLY sucked the wind out of me. I completely lost any focus I thought I had... and ambition? That could have been a four-letter word for all I knew!

So here I am, a changed man.

I came to understand everything I was doing wrong. I learned that I was goal-less and unfocused. I had forgotten it all.

But not anymore.

So what's so different these days? Well, to start, I've got this job that has forced me to look at what I REALLY wanted from a job. And I started to focus. I started making goals. I started to change the defeatist thoughts I had.

And positive things have already come about. I had an interview last week for a job right up my alley. This week, I'm supposed to have a second interview with the company.

I am getting things underway for the big bike ride fundraiser for Gilda's Club in September. I am gathering together a few folks who can help make this happen - and it's very exciting!

So, despite being incommunicado for a while, things are going really well. I am so excited about how things are going now, and am really looking forward to see how things pan out in the future. I realize why I am on this planet, and I am constantly looking for opportunities to accomplish my purpose.

Wow, that sounded cult-ish!

Anyhow, with so much going on, I may not be blogging very regularly... but keep checking, I'll be blogging as often as I can!

If you've got any thoughts, or a desire to help me make this Gilda's Club fundraiser amazing, or just wanna say hi, drop me a line: mattc2k3@yahoo.com

Ciao for now!

Oodles O' Fun

Hey gang, thanks for checking in! It's been forever since I blogged, and unfortunately, I don't have a lot of time to catch up right now.

Lots of amazing things have been happening! I'll keep you posted as soon as I get some time! :)

Much love, much peace!

Cancerboy as survivor

I've been noodling around with an idea for a sequel to "Cancerboy". It talks about what happens after I survived cancer.

I'm curious to see how many other people were affected by cancer survivorship like I am.

See, when you achieve the title of "survivor", life is amazing. You realize that you can do anything... and you can do everything. And you don't have to do anything you don't want to.

Cancer rewrote the rules of life for me. I lost my career drive and lost the understanding for needing and achieving goals. I found myself waiting to pounce on the next great experience - the next thing that would define my reason for being on this planet - without ever achieving anything.

This month, I honor the 4th anniversary of my Hodgkin's diagnosis. My life is nothing like it was four years ago - and definitely for the better. But there are those nagging thoughts about why I can't seem to develop and shoot for goals - I was always a goal-oriented person.

The world isn't yet fully aware of the needs of cancer survivors - and I don't know what specifically is needed.

All I know is that I love and adore my life so much more now than I did pre-Hodgkin's. There are significant parts of my life that are extremely more fulfilling than ever before - particularly my love life. But there are other parts of my life that are lacking more than ever - particularly my career. And I wonder why. Is it normal?

I don't know. I think perhaps I need to keep noodling.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

My mother is a saint. Not only that, but she taught my brothers and I some of the most important things in life. In my mind, respect is probably the top of that list.

This week, I was doing some reading... trying to understand my role on this planet a little more fully. As a result, by Friday, I felt like I had a pretty good grasp on things... and then it happened...

Despite working towards getting past my ego, I found myself feeling disrespected by a co-worker. I got angry. Pissed. But then I realized that I was the only one who was hurt by this. I was able to let it go.

Temporarily, it seems.

At darts that night, a guy on the other team started the whole disrespect thing, too. This time, it wasn't only against me, but also against some of my teammates.

And I realized that no matter how hard I work at getting past things like these, there are always assholes in the world - people who may care so little about themselves that they feel the need to impose their misery upon the rest of us.

Although this may come off like I'm whining, the purpose of this post goes beyond my stories. I just want to remind people how much better the world is - how much more fun life is - if we all treat each other with a little respect. Remember the golden rule? We're so much better than we give ourselves credit for. Let's start living that way, eh?

Peace and love, kids!

The Tide is Turning, Sylvester...

Well, it certainly seems like my life continues to change. With this job I'm at, I am constantly changing locations and hours. The days are getting longer, and there's that itchy feeling that spring is right around the corner.

I feel like things around me are refusing to stand still... that I can't plant my feet firmly on the ground. And that tells me that my life is in the middle of evolution.

I can't say that I'm comfortable with that feeling, but I do feel a sense of reuniting with an old friend - change.

See, with the struggles I've had over the past year or two... or should I say LIFE or two... I feel that the building blocks of my life we being broken down... only to be rebuilt - better, faster, stronger.

Nearly every day, I feel happy and sad. I feel strong and weak. And nearly every day, I feel that I'm on the brink of some brilliance, and I'm one step further away from the rut I was in for so long...

Whatchoo been up to, Willis?!

Yeah, I know, it's been AGES since I last blogged. Whatever could have been keeping me from blogging?

Work.

Yep, I said it.

Work.

I have been working for nearly four weeks now, and I have finally gotten into some sort of routine, which allows me to do stuff besides work and sleep.

That said, how about them Olympics?

Is Chad Hedrick an ass, or what? Did Bode Miller suck because he wasn't wasted? The Austrians were! The US hockey team has once again shown how lame they can be. Granted, I love a lot of those players, but come on, our hockey program can't suck THAT bad!

Speaking of suck... what's up with the Canadian hockey team? Did they forget how to play, or did Janet Gretzky bet against them?

Lots of stuff has been going on.

Our tai chi has been kicked up a notch. Sheryl and I have quickly become favorites of our instructors. It's probably because they yell at me so much. Thankfully, Sheryl was the one they yelled at today!!

So the job I have isn't exactly what I'm looking for, but it's something for now. It's a step forward, and although I did a lot of bitching about it at first, it could be a lot worse. For instance, I could be forced to watch figure skating 40 hours a week... or even 20 minutes...

Hopefully, as I continue my search for a job from Nirvana, I will have the time to blog a bit more.

Until then, may your life be filled with all great things...

Some haiku for you (so don't be blue... and tie your shoe)

Chew, chew, chew
Your eyes are so big
Stomach's not

#########

I smiled in your eyes
Reflecting my love for you
You smiled back in mine

########

Avoid disaster
Use your turn signal, you jerk
You won't see me rage

########

Tired, so sleepy
I must stop dreaming so hard
Eyes too tired to shut

#######

I write rhymes
Ain't pimpin' the words
Ho-etry

Sweet Home Ferndale

When I worked in Northville, MI, I was making enough money to buy my own place. Finally, "a place for all my stuff"! I had dreamed about having a place to call home for ten years prior to that.

My uncle recommended a real estate agent, and although I wanted to stay on the "west side", the agent took me around the Royal Oak/Ferndale/Madison Heights area. I looked at 5-7 houses when I decided on the one I eventually bought.

I live on the border of Ferndale and Hazel Park... one block from I-75 and a few blocks from I-696. Although the location is close to the freeways, I don't really get bothered with much noise.

The neighborhood is quiet - there is a park on the corner from my house. The neighborhood is safe - cops patrol the area regularly - there is a park on the corner from my house.

Ferndale is an awesome place to live. Often treated like the red-headed stepchild of Royal Oak, it has sprouted into a respected community.

There are areas that one can tell it's been settled for quite a while, yet there are many areas of new development.

Ferndale's "main street" has been evolving constantly for the last 10-15 years. The "cross roads" of 9 Mile and Woodward are nearly complete in their renovation. This area, which lies 2 miles from my house has become culturally diversified and a great yuppie hangout.

There are standard restaurants such as Maria's Back Room, but there are many other great places to eat within a mile of the 9 Mile and Woodward intersection.

Ferndale even as its' own microbrewery - Woodward Avenue Brewery - and a national act drawing concert theater in the Magic Bag. Yup, you guessed it, they are both within crawling distance of 9 Mile and Woodward.

Every winter, the city of Ferndale hosts the winter freeze blues festival - and this year, for the super bowl, they will have 50 bands performing over the course of 10 days.

Yep, Ferndale has been a great place to live. With lots of trees and parks, the city is just like the city you remember growing up in. Only different.

Why Should You Hire Me?

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about dream jobs. I love writing, I love coordinating and planning, I love the technical side of things, and I love coming up with ideas.

I always wanted a job where I could put posters on my office walls, sit on the couch in my office, and throw my "idea ball" against the wall while trying to sort out a tasty problem.

So far, that hasn't happened.

But today, while I was out for a walk, I started thinking about how much I enjoy writing. I decided that this blog was the best way for me to practice and hone my chops.

So my first project is based on the concept of an interview (It's a concept because I'm not frigging getting any!!!)... more particularly the question: Why should we hire you?

I should be hired for a number of reasons:

First, I am extremely dedicated to my work. The more I love the work I do, the more dedicated I am. I'm hungry. Hungry to prove myself - to you and me.

I love to set goals for myself in the workplace. If I say that I can get a project done in two weeks, I bust my butt to get it done in a week and a half.

I believe in earning my money. With me, you don't pay for cigarette breaks. You don't pay for water cooler chit chat. You don't pay for extended lunches.

In return for that paycheck, you will receive an employee who masters tasks quickly and completely. In fact, if I have a fault, it's that I often refuse to ask for help. Not only do I want to try and figure things out for myself, but I also feel that bugging a manager is wasting corporate money.

If I do have a problem and have to see the manager, I try to have a couple of options on hand for how to resolve the problem. To me, that shows that I am working to be part of the solution - not part of the problem.

My dad was a workaholic. I saw it kill him at 48 years old. I will not be a workaholic. However, I will do the job to the best of my potential. You will get 100% of me. Nothing less.

Although I don't like to chit chat at work, I do have great communication skills. My personality is engaging, and I have no problem relating to people of any rank within the corporation. I believe in communication. I believe that in order for a company to be successful, they need successful communication - both internally and externally.

In all of my jobs, I have been successful in the communications realm. Most notably, when I worked in Germany. Once my co-workers saw how passionate I was about immersing myself in the work and their culture, they bent over backwards to help me out - whether the issue was work related or not.

In another job, I threw myself into a project and ended up stepping on someone's toes. She got really bitchy to me and often complained to my boss about me. I didn't realize what was going on until a co-worker mentioned it to me. As the toe-stepping was completely unintentional, I had to figure out a way to resolve the situation.

Although she had already tainted a lot of my co-workers with her complaints, my co-workers and boss chose not to step in between us. They knew that both of us were actually right, and we were getting things accomplished despite the situation.

One day I decided to take her out to lunch - to get away from the job and stand on neutral ground. Once we began talking about the issue in a non-threatening environment, we quickly and easily resolved the issue.

So, as you can see... I am passionate about my work and am willing to think creatively to resolve problems. I immerse myslf in my job and earn my pay. I have a lot of ideas and enjoy communicating them.

I would be a huge asset to your company - as I have for every other company I worked for. None of them wanted to get rid of me. Circumstances dictated my leaving in every case.

So the question now becomes: Why wouldn't you want to hire me?

Old is new is old is new again...

With gadgetry changing so quickly these days, how do we put ourselves at the head of the curve?

I have recently been given some amazing information for newspaper/media jobs. After doing a little research, I realized how quickly things are changing in this world.

I was a communications major in college. There, I learned the rules for formatting and style. I learned that even though you were expected to use your imagination, you had to color inside the lines. That was in the late 1980's.

Nearly 20 years ago.

Today, I was reading about how to apply for a newspaper job. And there was still the formatting and style questions. The same ones that were asked 20 years ago.

So I began to wonder how newspapers could really stay in business. With CNN, MSN, the internet, PDAs and such, how many people actually read the newspaper these days?

As a result of this realization, I decided to blog instead. My blog has no rules, no lines to color inside, and no boxes to think within. I can be as creative as I want, I can say what I want, and I can potentially reach a larger audience than any newspaper.

Except I don't get paid for this, and for all I know, I have an audience of five people... or less.

So the question still remains... as a writer who doesn't like to color within the lines, and doesn't appreciate the sensationalism of Paris Hilton, or preying on people who just had something shitty happen to them... is there a future in writing in a print publication?

Maybe it's time to seriously start looking back into my old dream of travel writing...

Spiffy Smithing...

Tragically, magically
I saw it on TV
Drastically, spastically
I wondered, could it be?

Darkly, sparkly
The moon had turned blue
Mystically, statistically
I turned my thoughts to you

Purely, demurely
You burned in my mind
Lovely, above me
Magically inclined.

We are here
And we are now
It's just like this
And that is how

It will be
For time plus one
Because right now
This is done.

Being (Like) Ernest...

A sweet summer breeze gently blew through my window.
I sat, squinting in front of my laptop,
Looking for a word that rhymed with "silver".
I often wrote my own obituary,
It always had the same ending, but everything before it was different...

My favorite was the one where I lived the final 40 years of my life
In Ernest Hemingway's haunted mansion in Key West.
It always brought me visions of me and Ernie talking about how humorous it was to be famous.
Because, after all, to live in Ernie's mansion, I'd have to be famous, too.

Yes, it's a sick thing to write your own obituary,
But who else would appreciate the nuances of your life
More than you?

How do you know when you've achieved your lot in life?

When I wrote "Cancerboy", I felt like I accomplished the thing that I was meant to accomplish in my life. Since I am still alive, it's obvious that "Cancerboy" wasn't my sole purpose.

Tonight, I re-watched "What the Bleep Do We Know?" - a phenomenal movie about quantum physics - and it's got me in a rare mood.

This week was an interesting week. A friend of mine had an incredibly rough week - a beloved uncle died, followed by her grandmother. This friend and I had a disagreement the week before, and hardly spoke to each other since. Just last night I learned about the uncle dying, and I feel terrible.

It's things like these that help us realize what is important in life and what isn't. Is it more important to hold on to what you think is right at the moment, or to nurture your relationships?

We had a scare this week with my brother. He's still undergoing tests, so we're still not exactly sure what's going on with his body, but - again - it's times like this when you ask yourself if your concern is claustrophobic, too little or coincidental. Having gone through cancer, I know that it's always good to know that people are thinking about you, so that's the route I've decided to take.

Last night after we had a successful night at darts (12-3 for those scoring at home), Sheryl and I were watching "Most Haunted" on the Travel Channel (I LOVE that show!!) - when all of a sudden, there was a huge BOOM!! We freaked out, immediately hoping nothing happened to my house, garage, or the neighbors.

I checked outside, seeing nothing. My neighbor appeared, checking things out as well. I was pissing cold rain, and neither one of us saw any damage. So we went out to the back yards, where I noticed a plume of smoke in the near distance. My neighbor said he was going to try and find where it was coming from, and I invited myself along. Soon enough, we found the culprit - as did the cops and firemen - a garage in our neighborhood had exploded and was on fire. I just hope no one got hurt...

So if there is anything to learn about this week, perhaps it's to be true to yourself... particularly when it comes to loving one another.

And to not blow ourselves up.

The future is ours to create, so let's make it better than good, okay?

We drank Irish coffee to keep the cold outside.
Bundled to our noses in our blankets,
We sat on the couch, sharing stories of our youth -
When we were young,
When we were indestructible,
When we had the world by the balls.

The phone ringer was off
The doorbell disconected
The only distraction was the tasty jolt of caffeine.

I met her at the Church of Barmixology -
She experienced the magnificent enlightenment of absinthe
While I extolled the praises of tequila.

That night, I later found out, we both worshipped the porcelain god on different ends of the street.

And here we were, weeks later, listening to Bob Dylan on vinyl.
Each pop, each scratch, prodding memories -
Memories to share.
Memories to hear.
Memories to make.

She left at 2pm as the sun appeared and warmed the house,
Melting snow from the roof, dripping from icicles.
As she stepped out the door to walk the six driveways to her house,
I felt as if we were on the verge of something amazing.

I just got off the phone with her -
I finally got up the nerve to ask her out.
She agreed, telling me that the other day,
As she stepped out the door to walk the six driveways to her house,
She felt as if we were on the verge of something amazing.

Feisty...

Although my credit score is crashing faster than stocks on Black Friday, I'm feeling kinda feisty today.

I've arranged for two interviews on Monday and a couple of others seem to be just below the horizon, on their way up. Could it be - Good things coming my way?!?! Whoo-hoo!

As such, I thought I'd pass along some of the music I've been trying to catch up on lately. During my walks, I've been listening to Tao te Ching (as I mentioned before) and The Art of War (GW obviously spent too much time partying and not enough time reading!). That's fine and dandy, but I can't get enough of my iPod and am always looking for new tunes.

My favorite newly discovered music by far is Goldfrapp. Allison Goldfrapp's music is cutting edge electronica mixed with her beautiful voice, wrapped up in a catchy tune. Ah, but don't get fooled. The catchy electronic stuff is contained in her last two albums - Black Cherry and Supernature . She has another album called Felt Mountain , which contains mostly vocal acrobatics drifting across less appealing music.

Alec Empire has released a couple of hardcore DJ/electronic CDs in the vein of old, old Nine Inch Nails. While NIN has lost their bite, Alec has definitely sharpened his.

Today, I am giving The Campfire Headphase by the Boards of Canada a try. So far, it seems pretty cool in a lazy dreamy rainy day sort of way. Speaking of dreams, Sheryl and I will be selling DVDs of the dreams I've had this week. You know, the ones where we met Lance Armstrong, the President of the Czech Republic and Jerome (The Bus) Bettis...

I digress... anyway, other music I will be giving a listen to in the near future: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, Spoon's "Gimme Fiction", Electric Six' "Senor Smoke" (includes a cover of Queen's Radio GaGa) and the Strokes' "First Impressions of Earth".

I used to rely on Detroit's public radio station, WDET, for new music worth listening to. However, they f'ed up the programming, and none of those new music shows are available as they were for the last 20 years or so. Now I know why those classical music purists whined so much when the clasic radio station here went kaput.

Don't get me wrong, I think that we need more groups out there that sound like Pearl Jam and Nickelback. We need more boy bands and sugar pop music. We need more rappers talking up the bling bling. After all, without all those unoriginal wannabe's, we can be manipulated easier. Who needs to think? Who needs creativity?

Come to think of it, pay no attention to the man behind the curtain... or the new music I mentioned. Let's just grab a Happy Meal at McDonald's and play with our free plastic Disney movie toys.

I warned you that I was feeling feisty!

One of these days, it'll all make perfect sense...

True - so far - to one of my 2006 goals, I've been on the move... working out, walking and starting some tai chi.

I've actually been doing tai chi on and off for about 10 years - but I learned from a video, and I was interested to see how "real" training occurs. So the opportunity became available, and Sheryl and I jumped. Not literally, mind you.

Yesterday's first class showed us essentially one move, and already it is different from the version I learned on video. The class we're taking for the next two months will take us through the first 16 moves... the first 16 of 103...

For years I've been incorporating Eastern philosophies into my Catholic upbringing. I have studied different beliefs in order to better understand the world and people in general.

So for my walks, I've downloaded a couple of books for my iPod. Yesterday, ironically, I finished the first book - The Tao te Ching, a classic book on taoism... which is generally practiced by those who perform tai chi.

After listening to the Tao te Ching for the first time, though, I wasn't sure about my original belief of Taoism - that the potentiality of "the uncarved block" was all it was cracked up to be.

In fact, I think I even muttered out loud - "huh??"

It's obvious that I'll have to give it another listen. Next on the listening list, though, is Sun-Tzu's "Art of War".

Gotta Love George...

Today I was leafing through the Eastern Michigan University alumni magazine - it's something I don't spend much time on. It seems that just because I busted my ass and graduated from there, that I should feel priviledged to give them some money. Let's not forget the more than $20,000 I already gave them, which has led to my spectacular meteoric rise and equally meteoric fall in the job market. Let's not forget that when I released "Cancerboy", I e-mailed the alumni association to see if they could help me advertise the book around campus. Their response?

There was no response!

Anyhow, I shouldn't be too harsh on my alma mater. After all, today they gave me a rush - a rush of well-being and happiness.

On page 18 of the alumni mag, was a picture of one of the most amazing and influential men in my life - George Clark.

George was my accounting professor. He helped me learn a subject I cared nothing about. In fact, he made me LOVE a subject I cared nothing about.

As his student, I would visit George during office hours and we would talk about life. We would talk about success and effort. We would talk about philosophy and problem resolution.

After I graduated - no doubt as a result of George's influence, George and I remained friends. When I got involved with corporate training, George and I would meet for lunch and end up discussing educational tools and ways to mess with our students' minds. We had a lot of fun talking with each other.

George passed away in 1999. The last time I saw him, he helped me decide to participate in the 2000 Alaska AIDS Vaccine Ride. I was scared to death of the ride, but George exuded confidence and pride in me. I knew I had to sign up.

George and my step-dad Duane died within a couple of weeks of each other. I loved both of them immensely - and still do.

The tough times I am going through right now - being without a job and all - are really wearing me down. Through experience, I know that I just have to continue rolling with the punches, and that even a blind pig finds a truffle now and again... But it was seeing George's face on page 18 of the EMU alumni magazine that truly gave me a lift.

George, I love you, man... and I miss your knowledge, your insight and your friendship terribly. Thanks for reminding me that you're around and looking after me.

New Year, New Altitude...

Happy new year, everyone! I hope the holidays were amazing, and everyone has kept their new year's resolutions so far!

A long time ago, I stopped making new year's resolutions. Instead, I come up with new year's goals. I am excited about the potential of 2006. During the holidays, I finally came to the realization that I've been feeling like a victim of the shitty luck I've had in my life, and nothing helped point that out more than "Cancerboy". Although "Cancerboy" has been an extraordinary source of satisfaction, it also shoved some things into the spotlight that I didn't expect would still affect me so profoundly.

And altough cancer has given me the amazing gift of perspective, I feel like I've been a bit out of whack since my diagnosis and treatment.

The beautiful thing is that 2005 brought me Sheryl, who has both knowingly and unknowingly helped me identify and understand these things and regain a sense of balance.

As such, I am snarling, showing teeth and prepared to take 2006 and make it my own.

The first step, of course, is getting another job. I need to position myself for success, and although I'm still trying to figure out how exactly to do that, I've put the concept in motion by becoming aware of it - and reminding myself about it every day.

What else am I shooting for in 2006? Planning a successful charity bike ride to raise money for Gilda's Club. In order to do this, I need to get myself back into shape as well. After all, if I am lucky, I will turn 40 years old in 2006. Over the holidays, my brother Dean said that after 40, the body goes downhill fast. If that is true, I want to have my body in the best position to go downhill. This was also my attitude going into chemotherapy, and that apparently did me good.

These are my immediate goals for 2006 (I've also got dart goals, but I won't bore you with them!). The nice thing with goals is that you can add to them as the year goes on. I don't like standing still, so you can imagine that I will be constantly dreaming up new ways to throw my life upside down!

And so everyone, I wish you peace, health and happiness in 2006. May you attain all of your goals and all of your dreams...

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.

What's up?

Last week was quite a week!

First off, I was part of a newspaper article in the Royal Oak Tribune. The article was about the Detroit Thanksgiving day parade. Although I didn’t participate this year, I got a couple of cool quotes in there. It’s been quite a year for my name in print!

So, as I’ve mentioned, I am working on a charity bike ride to raise money for Gilda’s Club. On Monday, I met with 9-time Tour de France rider and two-time Olympian Frankie Andreu to ask for his participation.

I’m telling you, I was shaking like a leaf! I am a fan of Frankie’s, and he is the first former professional bike rider I’ve ever met. I felt like a teenage girl meeting David Cassidy or Donny Osmond (showing my age there!)!

I’ve got this amazing picture of Frankie leading the Tour de France peloton on the streets of Champs Elysees, and was fortunate to have him sign it for me. He left a spot next to his for Lance Armstrong’s signature… “You never know!” he said…

Well, as a result of meeting Frankie, I have A LOT of work to do for this ride. Have I started? No…

So Monday night, Sheryl and I went to a classic rock art VIP party sponsored by one of the local radio stations. We got in because I am a member of the Gilda’s Club ad-hoc committee, and some of the profits from the art sales are going to Gilda’s Club. It was a cool gig. There was food, refreshments, and a live performance by Mark Farner of Grand Funk Railroad. Sweet!

On Thanksgiving Day, Sheryl and I took her nephew to the parade, which was AMAZINGLY COLD! Fortunately, her four-year-old nephew did not want to stay long.

So we went to Eastern Market to try and grab some food before I had to get to the Lions game. We ended up at McDonald’s. After eating, I needed to get going, so we try to leave and…

We were locked inside.

Apparently, Detroit mayor Kwame Kilpatrick and his posse needed some breakfast. They were ordering at the counter when we tried to leave, but some people were trying to get in, and somebody didn’t think they should – with the mayor in there and all…

So we eventually got out, and Sheryl drove me to Ford Field to meet up with my sister and brother in law and his daughter for the football game.

We got into the game just before kickoff. It was my first time there, and unfortunately, I didn’t have time to meander about to check out the stadium. I loved what I saw, though. It’s a very cool venue!

Well, after the suckass game, I was dropped off at home, where I quickly changed and drove to Sheryl’s. We spent the rest of the night visiting with family.

Friday night, I played in a dart tournament. By the time I left, it had been snowing pretty well, and the streets were slick. I realized this when I went into a turn a bit too fast, and my car spun around 180 degrees.

Fortunately, there weren’t any cars in the immediate area. When I was younger, I used to take my mom’s rear wheel drive Mustang into a church parking lot after the first snow and do donuts, practicing my winter driving.

All that practice came in handy Friday night. I threw the car into reverse, finishing the turn backards, and put the car back into drive, heading back home in the correct direction.

So...

Anyone wanna help plan a charity bike ride?

Anyone wanna be a sponsor?

Oy!

Toodles for now!

Thanks for the...

Sorry it's taken so long for me to blog again, I am trying to get into the routine of working again. It's a wonderful thing, that's for sure!

If you recall, I spent a lot of time bitching about being out of work. Well, what have I got to bitch about now? The answer is simple, really - nothing.

So life for me right now is amazing. I can't even say how amazing it is, because tonight's topic isn't so much about me - it's about my history. It's about my mom. It's about my year. It's about posterity.

Tonight I spent some good time with my mom. We did our Sunday football thang, which is always good. But we talked, too.

One of the things we talked about was history. My mom is upset that no one remembers Thanksgiving anymore. And I know exactly what she means.

I read an article somewhere saying that Wal-Mart is targeting shoppers earlier this year for Christmas. Yep, the 3.2 bazillion dollars that they made last year at Christmas time was less than the 3.4 bazillion that everyone else (Costco, Meijer, English Gardens, etc) made COMBINED...

So what happens after Halloween?

Santa pops up everywhere.

Now, I understand that here in Michigan, our weather has been incredibly mild, and we should be taking advantage of the weather in order to put up our Christmas lights... that I do understand.

But what about Thanksgiving?

I was raised believing that Thanksgiving was about family. What is more wholesome... more American, than having the family sitting at the table sharing dinner, conversation, respect... and thanks?

I loved going to my Grandmother's (and later, my mother's) house on Thanksgiving. We always had an amazing dinner... and the pies! Lordy!

But something I never appreciated until I got older and things changed was the chance to be with family.

See, at Grandma's, we had her and her sister - auntie Aggie - my aunt Betty, my uncle Ray, my cousins and our family.

After the amazing dinner, we would play cards or watch television. I think I learned how to play poker on Thanksgiving.

And now that I am 39 years old, with no family of my own, I really miss my grandma and auntie Aggie at Thanksgiving. I miss the closeness of family, even though I have spent nearly every single Thanksgiving of my life with my mother... I miss screwing around with my cousins.

Maybe MY Thanksgivings were special... I don't know. I don't know what anyone else does for Thanksgiving.

I do know now that we need to hold on to our memories. Our memories become history if told to the right people.

This week, I was interviewed about participating in the Detroit Thanksgiving Day parade by the Royal Oak Tribune. One of the things I was asked was why I wanted to be in the parade. My answer was that as a kid, I remember going to the parade, and thinking that the people in the parade were larger than life - something like heroes - and I wanted to be that for today's kids.

So I suppose that the moral of this blog is to beseech anyone reading - take complete advantage of this Thanksgiving. Give thanks for your family. Give thanks for the good memories. Give thanks for the opportunity to make today and tomorrow a better day than today.

Don't forget Thanksgiving. Don't let it be a speed bump on the way to Christmas.

Oui Oui Oui

For 24 years of my life, kids scared the hell out of me.

Ever since I was 11 years old and had my nose bitten off by the family dog, I hated looking at and talking to kids.

Until I got cancer at 35 years old. Then that stuff got a lot less important.

I never really felt the urge to have kids - and this is briefly documented in my book - but there are currently a handful of kids I just love to death. Of them, there is Collin, Delaney, Nick, Lilly and Sara.

This weekend, I attended birthday parties for Nick and Sara (all five of those kids have birthdays between October 1 and December 23).

Nick is at the age where he says everything on his mind - not realizing that some things you say can hurt other peoples' feelings. And this is mostly why I hated dealing with kids prior to my cancer diagnosis.

And no matter how close I get to the kids, sooner or later, they will ask or say something about my nose.

When Collin, my oldest nephew, was old enough to ask me, I had already prepared a story.

In the story, I was in a fight with members of the Japanese Dioge (D-O-G) Clan. I told him a story of a great battle where I was knocked down over and over again, and finally one of the Dioges struck my face with his sword made of teeth. He knocked off my nose, but I eventually succeeded in defeating them.

As I got older, however, the telling of stories became more of a fun thing, rather than dealing with the serious question. As such, I just learned to deal with it and tell the truth - and usually, the kids are fine with whatever I tell them. And usually, they get bored with my answer before I even finish.

Realizing all of this - in addition to realizing that nearly everything in life is small - has helped me love these kids as much as they have come to love me.

I don't know how I would be as a dad, but I do know that I love being an uncle. "Cool Uncle Matt" - that's me, and that's what I strive to be. Even Sara, who is in her teenage years - thinks I'm cool, and will talk to me as long as parental units aren't around.

Even better than being the cool uncle, though, is that I will always know a different side of these kids. We will always treat each other as people, with respect. Their parents will never know them like that.

I, too, have a couple relationships like that with aunts and uncles... and I think that's pretty damn cool.

Who are you?

One of the things I love about life is seeing how things work out. How things change. How things evolve.

People too.

This past Friday, we played against some "old-timers" who used to constantly kick our ass. One man in particular used to say stuff that got into my head. He always intimidated me.

This guy has been in the league for easily 20 years, so I always thought he had something on me... knew something I didn't know.

Well, all he knew was how to get into my head!

Granted, he is a good player, but I have had a chance to improve my game and develop strategies for my dart game.

One such thing is focus. For the most part, I have been able to block out what people say while I'm throwing. One of the girls on my team is known to talk to us while we are throwing, and in the last year or two, I think it has bummed her out that she's been getting no response. Thing is, I hear her talking, but don't know what she's saying.

It's the same thing with this guy we played Friday. Not to mention that I have gotten to know him on a personal level as well, so I realize what he is doing while talking to me, and I can appreciate it completely.

It's a pretty cool thing when you finally come to understand something like that. You feel like you can use it to your advantage... and you can bet your ass I'm gonna try! :)

For what it's worth, we beat the "old-timers" 11 games to 4... for the second time this season.

It's amazing what a job will do for your well being...

I have completed two days of my new job, and I cannot even tell you how great it feels to be back in the work force. I love the idea of getting back into a routine, and forcing myself to take better care of myself.

See, my work clothes - which I hadn't worn in a year - got really, really tight. Looks like unemployment helped Matt gain some weight (and Matt didn't need any help!).

So, once I get back into a routine, I can incorporate my training rides and workouts, and I can't wait!

This all comes at a good time - with the holidaze coming up, and too much good food being available...

I'm still a few weeks away from my first paycheck, but I know it's coming, and it feels damn good. I had to keep reminding myself yesterday to stick with my grocery list while shopping, as I'm still so, so broke! The caviar and champagne will have to wait for 8 months or so, but that's fine... I really don't like caviar anyway!

Random comment: This morning, while I was eating breakfast, I turned on the Imus radio show on TV. Imus was talking to Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., who is one of my favorite writers. Vonnegut must be in his 80s, but man, what a wonderful speaker as well! He was talking about how he was one of the first Saab dealers in America. He spoke of the early Saabs as "colorful Easter eggs". The man is fricking brilliant!

Anyhow, that's all about me for now...
Blog ya later!

I'll sleep when I'm dead...

With tomorrow being my first day of work in a year, I have been taking advantage of naps and getting up late. Well, I have for a year now, in fact! :)

Logic says that I should have spent the last week getting up earlier and avoid naps in order to assimilate to the work schedule easier. Did I?

No freaking way!

This last layoff totally screwed my future. I will never be able to afford retirement, and career-wise, it hurt me bad.

So why shouldn't I take advantage of my last week off?

Tomorrow, I will get up at 6:30am and groggily prepare for work. During the course of the day I will get my first and second winds. At 5pm or so, I will probably come home, and take a nap if I can get it in. Then I head off to bartend for Monday Night Football.

People tell me I'll be tired. Yeah. So?

I might feel like crap. I might feel bad. But I might not. Maybe the naps I've been taking for the last 367 days will have given me super non-drowsy powers.

I gotta find out for myself.

And if nothing else, like Warren Zevon sang: "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Whoo-hoo! Bring on the work week! :)

When is it time to stand up and fight?

I spent a good portion of today watching the Ultimate Fighter on Spike TV. Holy smokes, there was some sweet ass-kicking, blood-spitting, bone-crunching action! Yep, the testosterone got pumping, just like it will tomorrow with football.

Personally, however, I haven't had a fist fight since my brothers and I were kids. It's worked out fine for me - considering I have nightmares about being in fights and my punches come off in painfully slow motion and ALWAYS miss their mark. These dreams really don't give me much confidence in my fighting abilities...

Roger Waters sings in his song "Home":

"When the cowboys and Arabs draw down
On each other at noon
In the cool dusty air of the city boardroom
Will you stand by a passive spectator
Of the market dictators
Will you discreetly withdraw
With your ear pressed to the boardroom door
Will you hear when the lion within you roars
Will you take to the hills...
Will you stand for it..."

So when is it time to fight?

A friend of mine is fighting city hall. The zoning in her neighborhood is being changed from residential to commercial. The bottom line being that once a business moves into a building - once a house is razed to become a shop - the property can never go back to a residence.

This friend of mine is studying previous city council moves and resolutions to understand her best plan of attack. She is also informing her neighbors and trying to get them involved as well.

These things will help if you abide by Sun Tzu's "The Art of War". Mr. Tzu believes in some essentials for victory, including:

* He will win who knows when to fight and when not to fight.
* He will win who knows how to handle both superior and inferior forces.
* He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks.
* He will win who, prepared himself, waits to take the enemy unprepared.

In addition, I think that if you're going to fight, you need to remain calm under pressure. From what I understand about it, during military training, soldiers are taught this through repetition. Repetition of essential tasks and repetition of decision-making in high stress situations. You know, like repetition.

I myself am working on remaining calm under pressure. It's a necessary and essential skill for playing darts.

Many years ago, my brother Van asked me to complete a psychological questionnaire about him for one of his clases. In this questionnaire, I remember making the statement that I thought Van was too even-keeled. That perhaps he would find life a much richer experience if he allowed himself to get excited (or perhaps even depressed) a little more often.

And oddly enough, I think of that every time I request Dr. Ron Bacardi to help me medicate myself while playing darts. See, if I get nervous or excited, then my throwing stroke gets tight, and I lose control over my dart (dang, how's that for a potential double entendre?!). But if I am able to suppress that tension, then I can throw closer to my capabilities.

Of course, repetition through practice would likely help that, too.

So what makes it the right time to fight? What would make you roll up your sleeves and and throw a haymaker at someone's noggin?

Ironically, it could be argued that passion is the fuel of war. Yet isn't passion also the fuel of love?

Okley dokley... I know it's been a while since I last blogged, but you could argue that good things have been happening.

But let's not argue. Let's just agree that life is good!

After a full year of being unemployed, I accepted a job offer yesterday and start my new job next Monday! Whoo-hoo! :)

I had a pretty good feeling that things were going to work out after the interview on Friday, so I spent a good part of the weekend celebrating. And now, I've got one more week of "freedom".

I'll tell you what, though, I am really, really ready to get back to work. This company won't know what to do with this Tasmanian devil, that's fer sure!

Mom says she can tell a difference in my voice - that I'm less stressed - and I'm not surprised, because I feel less stressed!

So that's mainly what I've been up to. Last week, Sheryl and I saw Nikka Costa at the Magic Bag - and if you haven't heard of her but consider yourself a Prince fan, you should be ashamed of yourself! Nikka is a firecracker o' funk... she puts the fun in funky!

So the rest of the week is devoted to trying to complete some unfinished projects before I go back to work. Man, talk about RELIEF!!!

Well, I reckon that's about all for now.
Blog ya later!