Today marks two years that I've been married to an angel. Thank you god, for letting me borrow her for the rest of my life. It is just a blink of your eye, but for me, it's forever.

Every time I look at Facebook and Twitter, I start thinking in simple sentences.

When I lived in Germany, I knew I was comfortable with the language when I started dreaming in German.

God, I hope my dreams don't turn into simple sentences...

Day. Time.

Today looks to be a truly beautiful day.

On truly beautiful days, I realize how much time I wish away, looking forward to a truly beautiful day.

And then on those truly beautiful days, I find myself wishing away the time, looking back on summer memories.

Well, I think it's time to stop wishing time away.

Apparently, I've allowed myself that leisure for too long. It has become comfortable - too comfortable.

I need to remember that sitting still is not necessarily wasting time.

It's also a chance to enjoy every moment.

The (Real) Italian Job

I was wandering Europe. It was Spring. The Giro d'Italia was in full swing. I wanted to sing.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
That sweet frozen treat
Beautiful gelato.

Trudging over mountains. I wandered. He heat had me wonder. I fell asunder.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
That sweet frozen treat
Beautiful gelato.

On their bikes. Racers rode by me. They had me stymied. I fell to one knee.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
I cried to the skies.
For beautiful gelato.

And when the sun deflated. And the night grew cold. I wasn't as bold. No gelato to hold.

Key Lime
Graham Cracker
Cinnamon
Ginger.

Malted Milk Ball
Mango
Rum Raisin
Mocha Chip.

Every pore screamed. Every hole. Every mole. Jumped for joy as I stole...

Gelato.

Beautiful gelato.

Bang Bang

So the CFO of Freddie Mac has committed suicide. Does he know something we don't? Why am I suddenly very angry at him?

I don't know if the guy had problems. That sucks if he did, and I feel for him. However, if he just took the easy way out, I would totally kick him in the nuts.

Four, Five, Six Corners (Hot Plate Heaven)

I’m sittin’ here thinkin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.
I’m wondrin’ and a’waitin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.

When the days are short,
An’ me an’ my baby are blue,
We look for some comfort,
We shiver an’ shake.

When the days grow longer,
An’ me and my baby feel twice as nice,
We look for the days to last forever,
And rarely – like never – they do.

I’m sittin’ here thinkin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.
I’m prayin’ and a’hollerin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.

There’s a diff’rent climate here these days,
We’re lookin’ fer a little more.
We have all that we want,
We’re jes’ lookin’ fer a little more.

I’m sittin’ here prayin’,
For want of a sign.
I’m wondrin’ and a’waitin’,
Searchin’ for a sign.

Blame It On...

It's pissing rain outside, but that's not going to receive the blame for my being sad. My depression this morning is caused by someone else's depression - Tyler Hamilton's.

Tyler Hamilton will always be one of my favorite professional cyclists. He was a lieutenant for Lance Armstrong for many years, and was involved in many exciting cycling moments.

And he is one tough sonuvabitch, too. In 2003, Tyler cracked his collarbone in one of the first stages of the Tour de France - and hung in there to finish the 3-week long race... he even won a stage!

A couple of days ago, Tyler admitted to taking a banned substance. This is his second occurrance, and instead of fighting the eventual ban he will receive, he has decided to retire.

Now, I have written about dopers and doping in the past. In this case, I felt that Tyler had paid his price for his previous indiscretions - a two year ban. I was shocked to hear about the current one.

But there is a story behind this - Tyler took this intentionally, as part of a natural vitamin that helps depression. Tyler was diagnosed in 2003 with depression. His family suffers from it. His grandmother, in fact, committed suicide as a result of it.

Earlier this year, Tyler stopped taking the medication that he was prescribed because it wasn't helping - and it was producing side effects that he didn't like. So he decided to try a natural vitamin that contained a banned substance.

Tyler knew he was playing with fire - I mean, if you are banned from cycling for two years for allegedly doping, you are going to be totally aware of what goes into your body. And he was caught.

I am sad that Tyler will no longer race. But I hope that he really takes the time to get himself mentally healthy. He will see that there are opportunities out there ripe for picking.

We have all gone through bouts of depression, but I can't imagine living with depression 24/7. It would be like living in Michigan, getting 70 days of sunshine per year...

Oh. Nevermind.

Tyler, you're tha bomb! Take care of yourself, and thanks for the fantastic memories!!

The Low Flow Below

Number two, number three
You can take it from me,
There’s a line in the sand
Where you must stand
To your back, step back, attack
Paint it bright black
Ahead of you, it’s true
A lesson like school, fool
Where do you lie?
On which side of the line?
Decide, don’t hide,
Where do you reside?
It’s easy, cheesy, and a little sleazy,
Take a breath and drink some tea-sy
Decide where you are
How far in the car
Take a stand, beat the band
Declare your land
And clap your hands
Clap your hands
Clap your hands
Slap your glands

Sweet Torture

When I was training to ride across Montana, I was maintaining a blistering pace of 200+ miles per week, but I struggled to recover on many days.

I would change my diet, drink protein shakes, swallow snot-consistency power gels, and oftentimes nothing worked. I would lay in bed the next day having a difficult time getting up.

"Getting old," I'd say to no one in particular.

So I tried to rest more. Which was fine. I never thought a lot about it.

Knowing what I know now, I can look at those moments as potential Sjogren's episodes. And the reason I say that is because I feel the same way these days - after my workouts at the Y - particularly after a strong cardio session.

My legs feel like worn out rubber bands held together with plaster of paris.

"Getting old?" I ask to no one in particular.

I dunno. In my mind, I don't work any harder than anyone else who isn't as exhausted as I am. Am I a sissy? In the back of my mind, I think so. But at the same time, there is still enough doubt to where I can attribute it to Sjogren's - without feeling guilty.

I try not to let it get the best of me, period. Today, I still plan to hit the weights at the Y. I'll probably do less cardio (if any) because my legs are wasted. I can then recover (aside from painting our bathroom and generally putzing around) for three days before our next swim class.

The thing that really sucks though, is always wondering if I am using my ailments as a crutch. If I am, how do I really know whether I need a break, or whether I need to suck it up?

And to make it worse, I am a cyclist at heart, which to a degree makes me yearn for physical discomfort.

So many questions. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to get definitive answers on our healthcare questions like athletes and stars do?

Oy, that is another egg to crack... not for today, though.

Have no fear, my friends, that whining sound you hear tonight will just be lil' ol' me. Have a laugh on my behalf, because I will certainly deserve it!

You Gotta Have Hart...

The other day, Sheryl and I went to see Jill Jack at the Hartland Music Hall. It was the last of Sheryl's birthday presents (yes, her birthday was in January, and no, I do not spoil her!), and we had a blast!

Mine and Sheryl's musical tastes differ greatly, but we agree on a few things: We like Los Lobos, and we like local musicians Stewart Francke, Liz Larin, and we are particularly fond of Jill Jack.

So this weekend, Jill had decided to record a couple of live shows, performing new music. Sheryl and I went to the first (Friday) show, thinking that it would be more raw and electrifying than the second (Saturday) show.

There were a few glitches in the beginning, and we could sense the nerves. But it was cool. And as the night went on, the performance got stronger and stronger.

After the break, Jill and her band played a couple of the strongest songs of the night. At that point, I realized how in tune the band was with each other, and how amazing the evening was.

In my life, I have never been able to accept comfort for too long. I had always needed change and growth. This is a quality that Jill sings about - the hunger for challenge and suckiness of normality. Other people can let moss grow under their feet.

It's been this need that has drawn me to Americana music. Music of the road, and stories along the road.

Jill's band seethed Americana Friday night, and it tweaked my wanderlust. In a good way, of course! :)

In the end, Sheryl really enjoyed herself - which was the goal of my evening - and I enjoyed myself, too. We can't wait to hear the album when it comes out. In fact, we were joking before the show that we would be a part of history - especially when Jill would say "I was reading in Rolling Stone the other day that Dee-troit audiences are the best audiences in the world! (We would cheer and holler) And Jill would continue by saying: "I thought to myself, sh*t, I've known that for ten years!"

Or maybe that was Bob Seger who said that.

State of the Art (Lather. Rinse. Repeat)

Over the last couple of years, I have become very proud of being a technical writer. I used to think that my mad tech writing skillz would lead me into a full-fledged world of engineering. And while I lingered on the fringe of engineering, I learned that not only would that world not have me, but I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted it.

As I get more comfortable in my own skin (if you will), I have begun thinking about the state of writing.

Even now, I am writing on a computer - a far cry from the pen and paper I used to write with. Technology is blowing up all around us, and it would seem ideal to be a technical writer during this explosion. The problem is, however, that along with technology comes globalization. And globalization means that you have to accept the fact that your audience may not speak your native language.

I saw this first hand when I lived in Germany. Road and safety signs are perfect examples of globalization. As writers, we need to recognize that pictures cross language barriers. Successful companies have taken heed - have you tried reading directions for an iPod lately?

Another change we face as writers is slang. Slang became very obvious in the 80s with the dawn of "ebonics". It seemed as if people within our own country spoke different languages. America, however, being the true melting pot that it is, embraced language changes and incorporated many of the differences into general understanding - Holla!

The electronic age is bringing its' own slang. I am still struggling to learn the lingo of text messaging (aka, wrtng wtht vwls), but again, it is something that we will - and must - embrace.

Gone R dyz of Lather. Rinse. Repeat. In the coming age, my art - my skill - will be less desirable, and I will have to adapt in order to survive. Yes, it is just like everything else - adapt to survive.

A dear friend of mine has amazing drawing skills. But he hasn't embraced the technology that would allow him be creative on a daily basis. On the other hand, I work with illustrators who are constantly seeking new tools to allow them to work more efficiently.

In the Detroit Institute of Arts, they house a lot of carvings, paintings and sculptures. But they also house digital art, and cutting edge media. Libraries house books, but you can also obtain books online and on CD.

I wouldn't be surprised that in the near future, we will be learning and training much like they did in "The Matrix". Just download programs into our brains. After all, when my parents went to school, they used slide rules in chemistry and physics classes. I used a calculator. And today, kids are going to class with laptop computers.

We have developed that far in 50 years. This is evident even in our country's space program. Engineers used slide rules to calculate Apollo 11 going to the moon. Today, we wouldn't even think to not incorporate computers!

So where do we stand here and now?

We're like Alice stepping into the mirror and into Wonderland.

Adapt to survive.

Goodbye Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Hello moto.

Once again, I breathe a heavy sigh of relief.

For some reason, I had a really bad feeling going to see my pulmonologist today to get the results of this weeks' CT scan.

To be honest, I am getting tired of seeing the doctor and being told that although I feel fine, that something is wrong with me.

Fortunately, today's news was good, and I can breathe again.

Nothing abnormal showed up on the scan, and the last loose end is tied up...

I think we know everything that is wrong with me for now, and I can focus on the future once again.

Whew!

When I was old...

Every once in a while, I wonder if I have lived up to the potential I had as a kid.

The thought popped into my head again this morning.

As kids, we are often asked what we want to be when we grow up. I, for one, never thought about being a technical writer until my junior year in college.

But I had skills!

In 2nd and 3rd grade, I used to write stories for extra credit. I would compete with my classmates to see who could write the longest report. I was a freak.

I still am!

But as a kid, I wanted to be a baseball player. I lived and loved baseball. And I was good at it, too.

I ended up throwing my arm out by high school, though, and never liked the idea of getting hit by pitches. So I ended up sucking at baseball.

I was always thinking, though, and was often included in classes to promote intelligence and creativity. I never understood why I was in the same classes with all of the smart kids. I did okay in school, but never truly exerted myself. It’s true that I may have blown an opportunity or two, but as I get older, I wonder if I was bored, or was borderline ADD.

As a kid, we could be anything we wanted. It’s so strange to hear stories of people I grew up with becoming an alcoholic, or work at a gas station their whole lives.

Most of the kids in my “special” classes became engineers, politicians or economists.

What have I done with my life? Have I achieved everything I could with what I had to work with?

Oddly enough, that question haunts me daily. I think that as we get older, and are faced with the back side of our lifetime, we start thinking about that. As a cancer survivor, I started thinking about it earlier than most people.

And so as I wonder about all of the things little 8-year-old Matthew could have achieved in his life, I have to admit that he could have accomplished a whole lot more if he tried harder and wasn’t so lazy.

Then again, is it really fair to ask? After all, who is to say that this is not the most rewarding path Matthew could have taken in his life?

Bringing joy to people, being remembered for good nature and good heart helps determine whether we have lived a good life in the long run. If Matthew had become a doctor, could he have saved many lives? Sure, but would he inspire others by writing about his experiences? That’s possible, too.

We just don’t know what we don’t know. And if thinking about these things makes us strive to become a better person, then what’s the harm?

I think that although Matthew might have strived for more, he would think his 42-year-old self was pretty darn cool – and certainly worth looking up to and forward to.

So get this...

A couple of days ago, I was invited to a roundtable discussion held today with my congressman regarding healthcare reform.

Are you part of the problem or part of the solution?

It was really cool, and although we didn't get into as much detail as all of us may have hoped, it was very exciting to be involved in discussions that will change our healthcare system.

Of course, it was pretty cool that my congressman now has a copy of my book, too! :)

So when I got the call the other night, I did a little research, by calling and talking to others who have had a lot of experience in the realm of healthcare. I wanted to go into this meeting well informed and prepared.

As a result of those discussions, I decided that my biggest concerns regarding healthcare were making insurance available to everyone (maybe on a universal-type level), and patient advocacy.

Part of my problem with the healthcare system as it is is that when I was being treated for Hodgkin's, the insurance company and finances dictated some of the decisions I had to make. Given the choices, though, I made my choices and I accept them. Nonetheless, it would have been nice to have more choices to choose from.

Another problem I had was that I had lost my job, and lost my COBRA coverage, and therefore, once I signed up for insurance again, I had a pre-existing condition which would allow the insurance company to not cover me.

Everyone should be able to make their choices by having plenty of options. No one should be dropped from insurance because they miss a payment by one day.

Unfortunately, there are so many sub-issues to this huge problem, that it's tough to figure out where to even start.

But start we did. And I was a part of it.

Am I part of the problem or part of the solution?

Well, I was willing to do something about it - so right or wrong, that's all that matters - I tried.

Ye Olde Sombrero

This week has been crazy nuts. As I sit here tonight, I am trying to filter all of the emotions, thoughts and feelings from the week.

Tomorrow is a huge day for me and my quest for excellence. Yet Sheryl and I attended a funeral today, and although I attended for moral support, I find that it is impossible to squeak through without feeling heavy emotion. And yes, I can be emotional even if I can't cry... I think! :)

Nonetheless, I am sitting, thinking, and being. In the old days, I would be wasted by now, thinking I'm having a moment of existentialism. Today, that would be completely wrong to attempt.

I hope to post this weekend and tell you about my big day tomorrow. I'm really excited to be a part of something important.

Good night my friend(s)... may your dreams in sleep give flight to dreams in real life...

Take Your Shot

Well, life threw me another curve. This time, I've been diagnosed with Sjogren's Syndrome. I can't help but wonder how Rasputin and/or Hitler felt after the many attempts on their lives. I mean, I've been fortunate now to survive an accident, cancer, and now a freaking syndrome!

I almost don't care. I very well realize that when I die, it will be my turn. However I die, I cannot control. A good friend of mine used to say that you can't drown a man born to hang. I used to joke that it would be my luck that on the last day of my cancer treatments, I would walk outside and get hit by a bus.

Hilarious, huh?

So while spending all of this time in the healthcare system, I wanted to do something positive about it. When I was a kid, I always felt like I could save the world (without saving a cheerleader - although that coulda been fun), but I still feel like I haven't made my mark yet. Still haven't accomplished saving the world. I thought my book was my mark, but apparently it wasn't.

So how do you achieve greatness? How do you become a hero?

I have no idea.

However, when I saw that President Obama began discussions regarding healthcare reformation, I said, "Hey, I have some experience to share!"

So I wrote both the White House and my congressman.

Hello, Mr. President, I am here to help, and I happen to be looking for greatness.

In the 60's, there used to be a saying: "Are you part of the problem, or part of the solution?"

Sometimes, if you simply do whatever you can, you can avoid being the former.

I'm trying to do my best, to be part of the solution - god knows I could also use a little good karma!

What do you have to give?

Take your best shot.

While You See a Chance...

When you have a blog, it is important to keep it up. After all, you never know who is going to be reading it.

Just the other day, I learned that music icon Steve Winwood read my blog!

Pretty exciting, huh?!

Yeah, I made that part up. As far as I know, Steve Winwood doesn't give a rat's ass about my blog. However, the three or four of you who do read it, have been looking at the same blog since early last month.

LOOK! Something NEW! :)

The thing is, not a lot has been going on in my life. I have no thoughts, no ideas, nothing. Instead, I have been trying to keep from freezing my gonads, suffering through this terrible cold weather.

As you may recall, I had blogged about Americana, and how there is something about it that fascinates me. In my freezer block noggin haze lately, I have been dreaming about taking a drive along Route 66 though California, Arizona and New Mexico.

I don't know why, but I am strangely attracted to that idea. And the colder I get, the more I get to thinking about cruising the American desert.

Yesterday, Sheryl and I placed an order for new windows in the back of our house. Now, understand that although the thermostat in our house read 70 degrees this morning, when I got out of bed, it was flipping 59 flipping degrees in our room!

Since Sheryl is my hot piece of Ferndale sunshine, the only other reason for the cold could be my frozen heart. Or the crappy-ass 1950s windows we have in our bedroom. I'm not sure exactly which...

In any case, our blue toes tainted our decision for windows yesterday. And I'm thinking that the rest of 2009 will be dedicated to my paraphrase of Stephen King via Jack Nicholson in Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of "The Shining":

"All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners." "All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners." "All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners.""All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners.""All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners.""All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners.""All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners.""All Work and No Play Makes Matt and Sheryl Warm Window Owners."

So while the rest of the world gets their 2009 kicks on Route 66, I will be relishing the melting of my toes, my nose, my fingers, my brain.

And maybe - just maybe - my heart, too.

Make no mistake, I recognize that my wife and I are incredibly blessed to be weathering this economy - no matter how cold it may be. And as long as the literal road is not traveled, it will still be there for the experience to be had.

It's been my experience that everything happens as it should, whether I/we like it or not. So although I may whine and piss and moan, I understand and recognize how amazing life is.

And I realize that it's about the journey -

And I freakin' LOVE that!

Happy square root day! Pi for everyone!

Ummm, pizza, ummm, chicken, ummm, pudding...

Food for thought.

Good god, I've got a lot on my mind these days!

First of all, Sheryl and I don't celebrate Hallmark holidays. That doesn't stop me, though, from realizing how much I am in love.

I never thought I would be blogging, let alone blogging all gaga about some chick - let alone my wife!

But I was thumbing through Cancerboy today, and I realized that I love my story. I love the underdog survivalship, and the "when good things finally happen to good people" story.

I realized, too, that Cancerboy was only the first part of my life. The second part of my life begins and continues with Sheryl.

These days, though, it seems like everyone is struggling somehow. And a lot of us are looking for a voice - a beacon of hope and encouragement.

Having a new president helps immensely. It's still too early to tell for sure, but he seems like he's doing all of the right things. Oddly enough, I feel the tide is turning. America is getting overthe shock of the financial punch in the mouth, and we are shaking it off, stepping back into our corner to catch our breath, and develop new tactics.

People have been saying that Michiganians and Americans in general are resilient, and I'm truly beginning to see that.

This country was founded on the dreams and hopes of people once ostracized. Our forefathers rallied together during tough times and built a country that so many are proud to be a part of.

For how many years now have we children of the 70s bitched about today's generation, and their lack of responsibility? Everything being handed to them on a platter, and they don't even recognize and appreciate it?

Were those the same things told about us as we grew up?

I'm not so sure.

Yes, we had it better than our parents. And grandparents. But we still earned, learned, respected and appreciated what we had.

So look what happened. Kids are having to pitch in now and earn their lot. Kind of a karmic happenstance, eh?

But what I'm excite about is that we are approaching a time of great and unique ideas. Our world is going to change, and it's up to us to decide whether the change will be for good... or for evil.

I'm thinking it'll be the former.

I stood in the white field of snow,
Wind howling at my back,
Bare trees shivering against the cold.

The sun refused to shine.

My frozen hands pulled my coat tight against me.
My body numb as I wondered which direction would help me get home.
I was motionless in distress.

My head spinning, my heart sick.

On the horizon of the white canvas,
I noticed a speck of hope.

I walked until I couldn’t walk anymore.
I crawled until my extremities were raw.

I carried on, towards that beacon of hope.

Lost, we sent our cries into the wind,
Brave, we continued, refusing to give up.

When I saw your eyes, there was a fulfillment of hope.
Your smile warmed my heart.
My smile warmed yours.

Together, we broke through the clouds,
The sun curing our ills.

Hand in hand, we looked in every direction.
And we continued – forward –
Forging our own direction home,
Daisies nipping at our heels.

Happy birthday, my not drunken punkin'! Thanks for helping me find my way!

History and Beyond...

On the eve of the singlemost important day in many peoples' lives, I thought I'd jump on the "Making History" bandwagon.

As overwhelming (and sometimes claustrophobic) as the Barack Obama media blitz is, I am finding more and more how much I like Mr. Obama.

Having battled my way through numerous crises in my life, I have always relied on hope. On days when I didn't have hope, I knew that it would come back the next day.

Frankly, if it wasn't for hope, I would not be alive right now.

These are the crappiest and darkest days that our country has seen in my lifetime. Yet people all over the country are smiling and happy - because they now have hope. Hope - the flickering candle in the dark; a mothers' calming voice in the middle of a storm.

I am thrilled that our country's new leader can instill that comfort in this scourge of unease.

But here's something else that I am finding great interest in thanks to our 44th president: History.

Obama came from the great state of Lincoln, and found his passion and dreams in great leaders of our past. And Obama has a way to bring those ideals to life for everyday people. I admire that.

A great man learns from the mistakes of the past - and the successes as well.

Now, I understand that the heavens aren't going to shine gold down upon us in the moments of Obama's inauguration. I also know that it is too early to put the man on a pedestal. I am eager to see what he can do. I am excited to bask in the hope that he stirs within us.

And I am happy for the history lessons that I am being given through this one extraordinary event.