Turn of the Tides

As the weather changes, so does my house. Now that Sheryl has been here a year, and seeing as that we're getting married and all, the suggestions for home improvements increase.

Now this isn't a bad thing... as a matter of fact, I mostly like it. As my mom mentioned, the house is becoming a home - don't forget, I've lived in this house for 10 years already!

But a year ago, my backyard was a rock garden. Now, as I sit out on my dilapidating deck, the freshly cut grass almost shimmers in its greenness. The shepherd's hook, which didn't exist in my yard until last year, is home to the wind chimes I gave Sheryl for Christmas. In a few weeks, it willl most certainly also be the bearer of a hanging potted plant.

The front of the house is changing, too. The dying old light fixture is gone, replaced by something a bit more contemporary. The crappy mailbox has gone to pasture as well. I think the new one can withstand a nuclear barrage.

Inside, the hallway that was home to Red Wings paraphernalia is repainted and relighted, proudly displaying a few vinyl albums' artwork.

The piece de resistance is the nearly complete kitchen - awaiting only a countertop and garbage disposer. Aside from the rock garden cum lush green grass backyard, the kitchen is a shocking transformation.

The thing is, I've often thought about doing some of the upgrades that we have been doing. But for some reason or another, they never happened.

These changes are the good changes. Changes that don't de-rail your days too much. Not like my beloved vehicle, which I had completely fooled myself into thinking that I'd had it for over 100,000 miles and it was still in good shape. This weekend, it was brought to my attention that the springs in the front are busted and to replace them would cost nearly $800. So it looks like I'm in the market for a new vehicle. After all, with the right deal, that $800 can guarantee me four months in a new car...

Seeing as that I'm nearly 41, I ought to finally heed David Bowie's advice. He once said to me in a sing-song voice: "Turn and face the strain... Ch-ch-changes... Pretty soon you're gonna get a little older."

And George Carlin interjected: "I put a dollar in one of those change machines. Nothing changed. "

So to them and everyone else, I say: What's that got to do with needing a new car?

In A Bad Condition

“If I tell you what Im doing today

Will you shut up and get out of my way?

Someone asked me what the time is,I dont know

Only know I gotta go now

No time - trying to get a watch repaired

No time - never got a thing to wear

Hear the ringin of the telephone no no

Hear a ringin in my head now

No such thing as tomorrow, only one two three go!”

– “Got the Time” by Joe Jackson

All morning, I was thinking about this song, and how time just goes so damn fast. I wanted to bitch about time, lack of time, but there’s a time and a place.

I was derailed this morning instead by the news that one of my all-time favorite voices of America has died.

If you go to the Kurt Vonnegut website (http://www.vonnegut.com/), there is a simple, roughly drawn, yet poignant picture of an empty birdcage, and the dates “1922-2007”. Like his work, this icon speaks volumes.

When people die, we often get selfish. For instance, I find myself realizing that I am going to miss reading his new works, and will never get the opportunity to see him speak in person.

“When I got home from World War II, my Uncle Dan clapped me on the back, and he said, ''You’re a man now.'' So I killed him. Not really, but I certainly felt like doing it.”

– Kurt Vonnegut’s 1994 commencement speech to the graduating class of Syracuse University

What I should be saying is how much of an influence KV was on me. I loved his dry sense of wit and really loved the way he put words together.

''When a Tralfamadorian sees a corpse, all he thinks is that the dead person is in a bad condition in that particular moment, but that same person is just fine in plenty of other moments. Now, when I myself hear that somebody is dead, I simply shrug and say what the Tralfamadorians say about dead people, which is 'So it goes'.''

– “Slaughterhouse Five”, by Kurt Vonnegut

One of my two absolute favorite books is Cat’s Cradle, written by KV in 1961. I am so mesmerized by this book, that I read it every few years, and am blown away every time. I’ll never forget the words of a fellow bar traveler, who had just finished reading “Cat’s Cradle” for the first time:

“Holy shit, man, I was literally shaking by the time I got to the last page!”

Kurt Vonnegut wrote darkly, yet he added color, life, vibrancy and thought to my life. I never met the man, but I am absolutely affected by his death – just as I was by his life, and writings.

Time is a kick in the ass. It goes by so fast, and we breeze through, until something grabs our arm, yanking us back to stop and notice.

“Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain

You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today

And then one day you find ten years have got behind you

No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun”

– “Time” by Pink Floyd

We call it “stopping to smell the flowers”. Yet, we tend to only notice when the flowers are just past their full bloom.

I really do hate always alluding to it, but like time, cancer is a kick in the ass. It is one of the few things in life – and death – that can alter time.

Through the hateful grace of cancer, the nauseating march of chemotherapy’s death, my watches broke and my internal clock wiped sleep from its tired eyes.

Though I intended to whine about the lack of time we have, I was blessed with a moment to stop and smell the flowers. And instead, I was given an opportunity to lament the fact that one of my all-time heroes and influences happens to be in a bad condition in this particular moment… although he was just fine in plenty of other moments.

Bravo, Kurt Vonnegut! Godspeed!

So it goes.

It’s really easy to get caught up in life’s turmoils. These days, for instance, I’ve been keeping exceedingly busy with work, Gilda’s Riders, wedding plans and house upkeeping. But today, I was stopped in my tracks. I was researching my book to get ideas for Livestrong Day in May; Gilda’s Club asked me to participate in their event by sharing my story. As I was flipping through the pages of “Cancerboy”, time stood still. I read passages and remembered exactly where I was and how I felt. I thought about where I am now, and how different my life would be if I never had cancer.

I get the feeling that everything in my life happened to get me here. There have been no wasted events. My eyes – at least for the moment – have opened to the broader spectrum. It’s cool.

As I work 56 hours per week,
As Sheryl and I plan our wedding trip to New England , and our subsequent gathering with family and friends,
As we paint and replace and remodel sections of our house,
As we coordinate and plan the 2nd Annual Gilda’s Riders event,
As I try to train – riding more than 15 miles a couple times per week and lifting weights,

I am living my life to the fullest. I am setting a standard. I am being a role model.

I am a proud, happy cancer survivor, and never want life to pass me by.

Day Zero, Year Five

With the MC5 screaming in my ears, I am ready to testify.

Today starts a seven month celebration. Of my life.

Ziggy Stardust recorded a moving song called “Five Years”. It tells about how the world will cease to exist in five years time. It’s true. It happened to me.

Five years ago today, I was diagnosed with stage 2 Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The world I knew five years ago no longer exists.

My transformation started with the phone call I made to my mother. I was sitting in my boss’ office. He was strategizing how we would complete one of his many outrageous goals. I stopped him, rudely dialing numbers on my cell phone as he spoke. When my mom answered the other end, I said simply (while maintaining eye contact with my boss): “It’s confirmed. Hodgkin’s, Stage 2.” Shortly afterwards, I hung up with my mother. Shortly afterwards, I left my boss’ office. Without completing his strategy.

There would be many, many turning points along the way. In fact, every day was a turning point:

* The head oncology nurse checking my veins to see if they were good enough to endure four cycles of brutal chemotherapy. And providing me a video that would tell me how to give myself daily injections of Neupogen.
* The blur of chemo education on my first day of treatment.
* Feeling like shit for 10 days after treatment, having one or two days of feeling human again – just prior to getting another treatment.
* Not having enough energy to go grocery shopping – yet doing it anyway.
* Sweating and smelling chemicals day after day.
* Pissing red during and after each treatment.
* Putting on my brave face every time I contacted my friends and family.
* Trying to talk my sister into taking my treatment for me.
* Spending a lot of time with myself and my thoughts, coming to the realization that if I survived, I’d have to change silly habits and self-destructive rituals.

After treatment – October 23, 2002 – I had learned how to live life. It was now up to me to practice living as it was meant to be lived. Every day since has felt like a warm Spring breeze (although some days the breeze has blown stiffly and others it’s barely blown).

I stopped the mental abuse that had become my personal mantra. I sought things that I wanted. I took risks. I gave back to my community. I gave back to my cancer brethren – sometimes getting my heart broken in the process.

But I was alive, and embraced each opportunity and emotion. My heart, my head, my eyes and ears – pulsed with life.

I was in the middle of a growth period (aka, unemployed and in the midst of shattering my credit while trying to make success happen by working on my book) when I met Sheryl.

Five years ago, I would not have allowed myself the opportunity to embed myself in this girl’s life – and that would have been a critical, miserable mistake.

My transformation will continue for as long as I live. But this year – this next seven months – will be the anti-Hodgkin’s. I am marrying Sheryl, and we will both celebrate not only our life together, but our personal lives as well. And one way that we will celebrate LIFE is by trying to make my growing number of brethren more comfortable and provide them more support through Gilda’s Club and our Gilda’s Riders fundraiser.

In turn, I hope with all of my heart, that these people will have the chance to live life and celebrate Year Five.

And hopefully, they will mark that year with a long bike ride while raising funds for Gilda’s Club…

Dumb America

I just read a news article that Geico’s cavemen are being slated for a sitcom pilot.

It got me to thinking: Why is this newsworthy?

And what does Paris Hilton think?

And what does CNN think about Paris Hilton’s thoughts on it?

And why the frick SHOULD CNN care?!?!

So this is what happens where there isn’t a ground war to report about.

Oh wait, there IS a ground war to report about!

So what the hell is going on?

Why is America – why am I – dumbing down?

I blame Al Gore’s internet.

With news – real and imagined – available on the internet 24/7/365, we’re getting “newsed out”. There is no new news to report anymore. Someone has Saddam’s execution recorded on his cellphone in real time and a half hour later, we’re all watching it on YouTube.

Our idea of news has been skewed beyond recognition… or has it just morphed into all-out entertainment?

It is becoming more and more important in our country to get a college degree. So let me raise two issues:

1) Get rid of journalism degrees. Hell, all you need right now to “tell the news” is a cellphone and internet hookup. Heaven forbid you are astute enough to actually tell a story these days. We want the pictures, the blood and the guts! This brings me to:
2) Why?? We are the most powerful and best country in the world. We’re leading the world in democracy… and idiocy. We’re the most advanced… and fattest. We spend all this time studying and earning degrees, but how does that help our population and fellow man?

The Associated Press recently declared a moratorium on Paris Hilton. They will no longer report Paris Hilton activities unless they are deemed truly newsworthy. That alone should tell us something.

We are to blame for the downfall of our civilization. We killed Princess Diana by reading the tabloids that bought paparazzi pictures. We drove Britney Spears to the brink of insanity the same way.

Are you proud of yourself?

On my way into work today, I was thinking about my Dad, and about how happy I am. My Dad died 16 years ago in March, and for much of the last 4 years, I have wondered how my Dad would view my life and activities.

How would he have reacted to my cancer experience? How would he have reacted to my lack of job? My book?

The only thing I am sure of is that my Dad would have loved Sheryl. He would be happy for me where I am right now with my life.

I found myself thinking that I am possibly the happiest I have been in my life. I am certainly happier than I have been for quite a few years, that’s for sure!

Each night, I’ve taken to praying. I know that there are angels who surround Sheryl and I. And so I thank them for each day, and each opportunity. I even ask them to help me attain my goals, and to help Sheryl and I to stay happy and healthy for many, many years.

So Dad, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I thank you for your patience and support.

One in a Million

I’m not usually the speediest person when it comes to new technology, but I eventually jump on the bandwagon. Just over a year ago, Sheryl gave me an iPod for Christmas, and only recently, I’ve begun listening to podcasts.

So far, I subscribe to three podcasts: Wilco, livemusic.com, and the NPR series, “My Cancer”.

Sometimes, I wonder why I torture myself listening to Leroy Sievers’ narratives of his cancer experience. Yet at the same time, I find myself sitting, listening intently, and nodding my head.

It’s a bittersweet experience – like reminiscing about a lost love, or a fond tragedy.

I’ve always said that I believe everyone’s got a story inside them. Some of us just have the ability to let it out. My story happened to come out via “Cancerboy”, and through this blog.

Last week, I was surprised by a box that came in the mail. It was from a friend of mine, whom I don’t see very often. Yet, when she found out that I had been through the cancer experience, she was moved to tears. In the box, I found a LiveStrong coffee mug. My friend said that she saw it and thought of me.

At that moment, I was forced to think about how we impact other people. I never think of myself as having much influence over anything, but by sharing my story, I influenced and impacted the lives of others. Yeah, it may appear obvious to you but how many times do you think about how you impact others yourself?

Leroy Sievers is doing that, too. He’s sharing his story and making an impact on peoples’ lives. I listen to his story because it connects me to all of the other cancer survivors in the world by reminding me where I’ve been, and that we are never really alone.

I am...

On a whim, I decided to Google myself. Yeah, it sounds perverted, but whatever...

While glancing through over 20 pages of Matthew Cummingses, I learned important things about me.

For instance, I am currently attending Marshall Univerity. I ran two or more marathons. I am a police officer in two different cities in different states. I am not only a writer, but I am also a photographer and an actor. I am a high school basketball coach.

Not only that, but I simultaneously live in Pennsylvania, California, Virgina, West Virginia and Texas - in addition to Michigan and England.

Although I am going to school at Marshall, I already have a degree from Iowa State, Brody School of Medicine and Case Western Reserve College.

I am an administrator for the Yellow Pages, a spy, and have appeared in many newspaper stories.

Strangely enough, I was also a participant at the Battle of Bunker Hill (I was always a survivor!).

I am a glass blower and attend Edinboro University.

Essentially, I am everything that I want to be.

So the next time you ask yourself, "who am I?", drop by Google.com - you'll be surprised at how much you've accomplished!

Ticking Time Capsule

A couple of years ago, I had a picture taken of me, which was placed in the Lewiston , Michigan library time capsule.

If I had an opportunity to put together a time capsule of my life so far, here is what it would likely contain:

* A picture of me (as a baby), my mom and dad
* One of many stories I wrote in 3rd grade… perhaps my report on Christmas…
* A baseball mitt
* A bicycle
* A prosthetic nose
* A bottle of Hefe-Weizen beer
* A bottle of tequila
* A box of 1974 Topp’s baseball cards
* “Cancerboy”
* Darts
* A Gilda’s Riders jersey
* My concert tickets
* A picture of me and Sheryl
* An iPod programmed with my fave tunes

There are a million things that we could hope to put in our personal time capsules…

What would you put in yours?

Cold Weather Breakdown (Jan 2007)

I’m having a cold weather breakdown today. I don’t know how to explain it, but I am sick and tired of cold weather. It is all too easy for me to imagine a balmy 70+ degrees outside with humidity.

Yes, I am extremely aware that we’ve had a mild winter so far, and that the winter weather only truly hit us a few weeks ago, but that doesn’t help my angst.

I had an awful time getting out of bed this morning, and I can’t concentrate. I’m cold, although the room temp is 70 degrees. All I want to do is curl up in bed and sleep. And eat. And sleep.

My skin is cracking. My lips are cracking and my skin is drier than normal. I’d cry, but my tears immediately dry up.

Ugh! When is Spring? March 21??

Wake me on the 22nd.

Media, schmedia

Media sucks. I hate the spin that it puts on stuff, and I hate how powerful it is.

The other day, I realized that I was watching too much TV news. When I’m up in the mornings, I’m already grumpy. Then I hear stories about A-HOLES WHO DO STUPID STUFF. Interject some cutesy between-story banter and I am ready to VOMIT.

Why do I subject myself to that torture in order to see the weather and/or traffic?

Why don’t I go to accuweather.com, or weather.com? Why don’t I go to traffic.com, or autoclubgroup.com? Why don’t I use something else for eye candy while I eat my oatmeal?

I guess that is something to work on.

The local news isn’t actually my bitch for this blog. Rather, it’s the power of news.

The French news has long had issues with Lance Armstrong. They hated the fact that he dominated their Tour de France for seven years.

Rather than accept that the guy was talented, they blamed performance enhancing drugs.

That’s all fine and dandy… it’s in the past (I hope!). But just before the 2006 Tour de France, a Spanish news source wrote a story about how nearly all of the top-runners for the Tour were implicated in a doping scandal. 12 contenders were booted from the race.

American Floyd Landis then wins the Tour with an incredible stage victory in the mountains.

And what happens? French papers publish a story saying that Floyd was jacked on testosterone during that stage win. Floyd was immediately guilty and is still trying to prove his innocence.

A Spaniard named Oscar Pereiro is poised to step in as 2006 Tour winner if Landis’ appeals fall through. However, this week, French news reported that Pereiro tested positive during the Tour for ASTHMA MEDICINE.

Pereiro states that he was given authorization for his medication and can provide it. Unfortunately, the damage is already done. WHY is ASTHMA MEDICINE grounds for condemning someone before obtaining all necessary information? Are the French so insecure about their cycling program that they need to implement such devious tactics?

I’ll tell you this: I have ridden a number of long, agonizing rides in my life, and I give kudos to those who can RACE such long rides, let alone RIDE them. Jacked or not.

Yes, I said it.

Jacked or not.

What I do care about, though, is that good peoples’ lives are being ruined as a result of certain types of media. Whatever happened to fairness and Walter Cronkite-type ethics? Why have we become a society of pomp and flash? Of careless, non-responsible reporting? And most importantly…

Why does Fox 2 News give Al Allen all of the crappy stories?

Do angels have birthdays?

For years, a boy ran around town, having fun and playing.
He kept busy, as he never wanted to be bored.
There were two reasons for this:
1) He didn’t like to be bored; and
2) He was afraid that he’d realize how alone he was.
One day, while playing, a shiny light caught the boy’s attention and he failed to see the wall until it was too late –
WHAM!
The wall hit him like it was a ton of bricks.
Forget the fact that it really was a ton of bricks – you get the point.
Anyhow, as the boy laid in bed recovering from his wounds,
He began to understand how lonely he really was.

The boy wasn’t really sad, though, he figured that if he was meant to find someone special he would – whether or not he wanted to.
Once he healed, the boy decided to donate some of his time to a charity that helped others who ran into walls.
One day, while working at Builda’s Club, the boy was introduced to a kind-hearted girl.
They chatted a bit, and after they had gone their separate ways, the boy knew he had just met someone special.

But the boy had stuff to do… he had some playing to take care of.
And so he played and played a bit more.
One day, someone asked him if he kept in touch with the special girl.
He hadn’t, so he decided to e-mail her and say hi.

As things go, the boy and girl ended up dating.
The boy was selfish, though, and found that although he requested crazy things from the special girl – such as frog’s lips or chicken’s nipples – she found a way for him to have them.

At night, when the boy went to bed, he found himself wondering more and more:
Was this girl really an angel in disguise??

So when he saw her, he would look for clues:
Did she hide her wings? Did she have a warm, comforting smile? Did he feel best when he was around her?
And more often than not, the answers were “yes”.

The boy found himself falling in love… something he wasn’t entirely familiar with.
But she was patient with him… angels do that, too.
He asked her to marry him, and be his angel for the rest of his life.
She said yes.

Apparently, no one really knows if angels have birthdays.
On January 23, 2007, the world will find out for sure.

No matter to the boy, really.
It’s just another day.
Another day to make sure his angel knows how much he loves her.

Yes, he will possibly try to spoil her, too.
Maybe he’ll take her out to dinner.
Maybe he’ll take her out of town.
Maybe he’ll write a story about a little boy and a special girl
And tell the world that he loves her.

Happy Birthday, Sheryl. I love you, baby!

Having a Mid-Life Crisis?

Not me! I had my first mid-life crisis at the age of 11, when the family dog bit my nose off. The joy and fun of childhood ended then and there. From that moment on, I was an adult – and not a very happy one at that.

So I turned my anxieties into dreams and goals. I worked towards those dreams and goals, rarely aware of what I was doing. One day, BAM! A goal was achieved. Another day, BAM! Another one down! And so it happened: BAM! BAM! BAM!

Misery was displaced by achievement and satisfaction. Not REplaced, mind you… just DISplaced.

I focused on changing the world and being a good role model for my nieces and nephews. After all, I would never be a parent.

It was about that time that Thomas Hodgkin decided to hand me my second mid-life crisis: Hodgkin’s Disease.

I soaked that summer in chemotherapy and Neupogen, watching as my goals and dreams melted along with my cancer tumors. My misery magnified.

It grew and grew, magnified until the inevitable happened:

It imploded and ate itself.

Yesterday, I sat with a whole new life ahead of me. Today, I sit with a whole new life ahead of me. Tomorrow will bring the same.

29 years ago today, a little boy lost his nose and his innocence. He lost the definition of joy and unadulterated happiness.

But today, thanks to that little boy, and Thomas Hodgkin, I’ve allowed myself to lower the guard, to let Sheryl in, and as a result, I am happier than I’ve been for most of my life.

Arguments and Aggrievances

I used to be extremely passionate before I got cancer. I would argue about anything close to my heart. In fact, I once got into a bunch of trouble for telling my boss that the way he wanted to do something was asinine. I still think that, but I would handle things differently now.

For example, I busted my butt on my first project at the new job, and thought that the end result was awesome. However, the customer thought otherwise, and made suggestions that I feel “dumb down” the project. It’s pretty silly, actually.

However, they are the customer, and my response is “whatever they want” - whereas some of the people I work with are ready to argue for what’s already been accomplished.

The bottom line is that there is a time to argue, and there is a time to not. Cancer helps you to re-evaluate what’s important.

This is a common understanding with Sheryl, too. With her experience in the cancer world, she sees, too, what is worth arguing about and what isn’t. Sometimes, I will try to get her to argue with me for the sake of working something out in my head, and she won’t even bite.

Most times, when Sheryl and I disagree about something, one or the other will relent almost immediately. After all, is it really important to win the argument? Is it important to lose?

It all comes out in the wash, and usually, no good comes from heated arguments.

Should I be passionate about this project at work? Yeah, a little, but it’s WAY more important to me to keep this job.

Now before it is suggested that I am simply a candy-ass, let me ask one question:

Does it matter whether I am or not?

Not to me, it’s not.

Carpe' De Living Room

At 5:30am today, I sat, contemplating me – and why I do some of the things that I do.

See, I had been figuring out what I wanted to accomplish during the day ahead of me, and thought about what I had accomplished yesterday.

After I got home from work yesterday, I tried to achieve every possible thing I could before sitting down in front of the TV for the night. After all, once I get there, it’s tough to get back up!

So I worked out, I made a couple of phone calls, I took returnables out to the garage, I washed dishes… By the time Sheryl came home, I was mostly done with everything. And yep, sure enough, I sat down in front of the TV.

The weird thing is that I’m not used to having so much time on my hands. When I worked in hell, my hours were typically 9:30am to 6:15pm. I completely under-utilized my time. I stayed up late, woke up late, and was completely lethargic. After all, I wasn’t doing something I wanted – something that excited me. I always felt like I never had enough time to do things around the house, or spend time with Sheryl.

Because of my cancer experience, I’ve developed the urge to milk as much out of each day as I can. This urge was squashed during the last year.

Yes, I still wanted to accomplish as much as possible, but the job drained me, and I finished each day as a lump of Jell-o.

Last night, I laid in bed and wondered if I made the most out of my day. I felt that I hadn’t, even though I had tied up a lot of loose ends.

My life is re-invigorated with this new job. I am excited about life and all of the great things to do. Sheryl and I have been able to do things I’ve wanted to do for a very long time, and I’m ecstatic about taking her out of town for her birthday at the end of this month.

I am energized every day. It is a beautiful feeling, but yet when 5:30am rolls around, I find myself wondering:

Am I taking carpe’ diem a little too seriously?

Issues

When I get to my awesome job in the morning, it’s typically around 7am. This poses a few potential issues for me.

First, keep in mind that I’m a night person. Man, I love my nights. I love being awake when everyone is asleep. Ironically, I feel the same way in the morning, but in the morning, I am usually struggling to wake up, so the magic eludes me until night time.

So, in order to get to work at 7am, I have to get up at 5am. Granted, much of this time is spent puttering around – all I’ve really got to do is eat breakfast and take a shower. Combined, that takes me 35 minutes. Add to that my 20 minute drive to work, and I could technically get up at 6:05am.

But… I like to take a little time to wake up before taking a shower. I check e-mail, listen to the radio, and sometimes make lunch or wash dishes. It’s all good.

The problem comes around 1:30pm. See, by the time I get to work, I am highly focused on what I want to accomplish, and energized. This is partially because of my morning crankiness – a trait that keeps people away from me.

So I bust my ass all morning long… working, working, working… at 11:30 I eat lunch. And then the productivity slows. Then proceeds to get worse and worse, until between 1:30 and 3pm, I am seriously ready for a nap!

Once I get home – approximately 4pm – I have a perfect opportunity to take a nap! Yay! However… if I take a nap, I know that I’ll be getting to bed after 11pm, making my 5am alarm WAY too early!

So then I have to decide… is it worth the risk, or do I ride/work out instead? The ride/work out will energize me! HooHa! And I’ll be ready for the evening.

So as I sit here contemplating my options/potential issues, I’m thinking that instead of a nap, and instead of a ride/work out…

I may plop my tired ass on the recliner and watch Seinfeld re-runs while shoveling macaroni and cheese down my gullet, which will effectively ruin my option to ride/work out because riding/working out after eating is like swimming after eating, and if I know one thing, I certainly don’t want to spend my evening puking.

Pass the remote.

A Prayer for 2007

Dear God, and all of the angels that surround us –

Thank you so much for all of the amazing things you provided and helped us with in 2006. We are so blessed, lucky and happy, and we cannot express our appreciation enough.

Since we do realize our blessings, we look forward to giving back in 2007. With personal and financial support of charities, and trying to make this world a better place with our presence.

Please allow us to continue living life completely. This will allow us to give the most of ourselves. One such wish is to help us stay healthy, and become healthier in mind and body.

Please also help those who bless us with their love and friendship to stay healthy as well.

Please allow us the peace of mind and focus to foster greatness in the things that we do. This will allow us to inspire others to greatness as well. As such, we request stability in our jobs, and lives, creating harmony within which we can work and create for the betterment of others.

We look to 2007 with hope and excitement, looking forward to great achievements and learning new things.

Please bless us with guidance to be better people and an ability to affect our world in a positive way.

Thank you for everything.
Amen.

Closin' Up '06

As 2006 comes to a close, and I begin to anticipate how amazing 2007 will be, I wanted to briefly look back one more time.

My favorite events of 2006:
* Sheryl moving in / Our decision to get married
* My surprise birthday party
* Vacation in Denver
* Starting a real job
* The Gilda’s Riders’ trip to Mackinaw City

My favorite musical events:
* Roger Waters at the Palace of Auburn Hills
* Nine Inch Nails/Bauhaus at DTE Energy Theatre
* Stewart Francke at the Scarab Club
* The Hard Lessons at Gilda’s Club
* The Hard Lessons at the Arts, Beats and Eats

The Show I Wanted to Badly See, Yet Still Missed:
* The Secret Machines at the Magic Bag

My favorite new-found music:
* Boards of Canada
* The Secret Machines “Ten Silver Drops”
* Angels & Airwaves
* David Gilmour “On An Island ”
* Edgar Froese solo works
* Jerome Froese solo works

My most frequented websites:
* Cyclingnews.com
* Pink is the New Blog
* Post Secret
* Stereogum
* Retrocrush

My favorite television shows:
* Heroes
* Nip/Tuck
* Most Haunted
* In-season cycling
* In-season football
* Hockey – a people’s history (on CBC)
* Canada Russia ’72 (on CBC)

Goals for 2007:
* Make sure Sheryl gets treated best as possible
* Complete web development course at New Horizons
* Gilda’s Riders 2007 raising a minimum of $20,000
* Logging in 1,500+ miles on my bike
* Being happy as much as possible

Have a most excellent 2007 everyone! Be safe!

Tales of Santa, part 3

So… what the heck does Santa Claus do in North Pole, Colorado ?

It is well known that Mrs. Claus loves to ski. As such, Santa and friends enjoy some vacation time there at the base of Pike’s Peak .

Now, although it’s supposed to be a vacation, Santa still hangs out with the children, finding out what they want for Christmas (If you’re reading, Santa, I would like a new vehicle to take me to and from my new job!), and he spends some time in his workshop. Mrs. Claus and the elves are really the ones who vacation, and Santa is cool with that. He realizes that he’ll have his chance to chill the week following Christmas. That’s when he goes to Hawaii , where he loves to sit on the beach with a mai tai and take long naps on the hammock on his covered patio.

You may be wondering how Santa can afford to have so many different places – and that’s a great question. Many people have bequeathed some of these homes to Santa in their will. Howard Hughes was rumored to have given Santa a sackful of money to fund development of a state of the art toyshop. D.B. Cooper is said to have donated his home to Santa when he died. Needless to say, Santa was forced to hire Prycewaterhouse and Coopers to manage his finances – and this was back in the 1950s!

Hey! I just received an e-mail from Santa. Since he’s been enjoying my postings about him, he wanted me to pass this along:

Hey Matt!
Greetings from THE North Pole! The elves and I have been working feverishly to get the last minute stuff taken care of. Like many shoppers, some of these elves wait until the last minute to get their stuff done. Man, talk about stress!
If you write another blog telling the kind people about me, please let them know that I am looking forward to cookies and milk during my trip! Hehehe… the Mrs. keeps on me about my weight, and she says that I should join you and Sheryl on one of your bike rides. Can you see me on a bike??
Anyway, remind everyone that I’m doing last minute updates on the good/bad thing. There are a few surprises on the Naughty list, and they have just a few days to make it to the Nice list!
Take care, buddy. We’ll see you soon!
Kris

Well, there you have it, folks… just a few stories about Santa. Hope you’ve been good enough to be on that Nice list – I know I have!

If the events of the last few weeks had never occurred, you would be reading a completely different blog entry.

However, since I was blessed with the job I’d been seeking for four years, I can truly say that 2006 has been a good year.

I began the year jobless, and fortunately started working at a payday advance company. I hated the job with a passion, and fumbled my way along without interest or desire to achieve success. The job paid some bills and that was all that mattered.

During the month of April, I prepped the house for a new inhabitant. Sheryl and I had decided to move in together, and as every other step in our relationship, this one felt comfortable and seemed “right”.

In June, I celebrated my 40th birthday with family, friends and tequila. This was the first party that Sheryl and I held jointly, and it won’t be the last.

As the year flew by, I busied myself with plans for Gilda’s Riders. In addition to planning this fundraiser, I also had to train for it, so riding quickly came back into my life – which I loved!
Around the same time we completed a very successful Gilda’s Ride, I began to care about my job. And the store numbers began to prove it.

I realized that I really can do anything that I put my mind to, and decided to take classes in web development. It was then that I was devastated when my boss faxed me a “termination counseling” form stating that despite my store’s growth and success, I would be terminated on Dec. 23 if I didn’t sell a number of piece of shit re-loadable debit cards.

The following week, I was blessed with my new job, and happily e-mailed my resignation.

So what did I learn from 2006?
1) It is possible to be truly happy. For more than a moment or two… it’s possible to be truly happy for a number of days in a row.
2) In order to achieve happiness, we have to struggle. That makes the taste of happiness sweeter.
3) Dreams come true. But sometimes they take years to come together.
4) Patience never comes fast enough. But when it does, whoo boy, it’s worth it!

What were my accomplishments for 2006?
1) Gilda’s Riders brought together 12 people who raised $10,000 for Gilda’s Club Metro Detroit. It was a helluva struggle, but with the help of Sheryl, Jon and Sue, it came together beyond my expectations.
2) My store at Advance America grew from 110 customers to 138 once I started caring about my job. Our bad debt dropped from over $12,000 a month to under $2,000 before I left. These successes come from having compassion and respect for the customer. In that type of job, those two things are easy to forget.
3) And personally, I feel like my best accomplishment was asking Sheryl to marry me. As I mentioned before, everything we’ve done has been comfortable and makes sense to us spiritually and logically. Quite simply, my life would not be as good as it is today without her.

More thoughts on 2006 (and 2007!) to come…