Climate is Underrated

This will be a short post. I'm in Florida visiting with my father for a week. The Floridians are freaking out over their "cold" snap. It's gotten into the fifties each of the past three or four days and even into the thirties at night. Today it's back to normal. 76 degrees and sunny. I left Chicago at 13 degrees. Let me be clear. 76 is greater than 13 in every way. Especially when it's the farenheit temperature.

I hope to visit some friends while I'm here and bask in the warmth. Due to my chemotherapy I'm incredibly intolerant to the cold. 13 sucks. Minus 8 where Chicago is headed Monday is suckier by a factor of 5. I love Chicago and could never live in Florida full time again but give me Florida for the winters please. That is all. Thanks! Peace out!

Reflections on the oblong spheroid

OK, so I've been a bit lax in posting to the old blog lately. It's only been three and a half months. And it's certainly no coincidence that I've been silent since August 16. I've been busy! Consumed. As a matter of fact if you were to study my behavior (please don't) since about the age of eight I believe you'd observe a strikingly predictable trend. Between the middle of August and the middle of January every year I've been in the arms, or the clutches of a passionate mistress, football.

I don't apologize for it though I've felt pangs of guilt on a great number of occasions. I'm in love and have been for a long long time. I can't escape it or rather wouldn't try to if I could. It's all consuming. I wouldn't begin to try to explain it to those of you who don't already understand it. And there is no need to do so to the rest of you. I'm crazy mad coo coo for cocoa puffs for both professional and college football. Do I love it more than my wife and children? Of course not but it's been with me a lot longer.

When I was a boy I had dalliances with others. Basketball lost me when the players started signing shoe contracts at 7 and assembling their posses before they could drive. Baseball has its nostalgic charm but it's like your favorite aunt; quaint but nothing to stir the blood. Soccer, er...football? With apologies to my friend Steve who in his eloquent style compares and contrasts the two footballs by their spatial qualities...Call me an American apologist but soccerfootball just ain't football a'tall. Hockey? Please. I'm from freaking Florida. Now I can and will sit down in front of the tube or in an arena or stadium and take one of these others but would I change my plans to do so? As B.B. would say, the thrill (if there ever was one) is gone.

We've reached that part of the autumnal ritual, as predictable as the turning of the leaves, wherein the college game crescendos through rivalry weekend. This past weekend. Many of the titanic tilts throughout time were renewed again. The Game. The Big Game. The Iron Bowl. Michigan-Ohio State. Florida-Florida State. The Egg Bowl (my personal favorite name) And on and on. To not personally be attached to a school with a hated rival is to miss out on one of the great experiences of college life that fortunately or unfortunately carries on in perpetuity. When your team wins, as mine did yesterday, it makes the next 364 days of the year infinitely better.

Unfortunately, yet somehow ingeniously, the college game has managed to mangle the remainder of the season by allowing a collection of bowl representatives in loud sport coats to manage the process of picking its National Champion. If you wonder how that could be ingenious just listen to fans like me argue, moan, and cry about the process thereby stoking the fires and strengthening the collective brand. Ingenious.

Just after the New Year after the collegiate champion is mythically crowned the professionals take to the assorted frozen tundra and plastic grass to settle their championship the right way: On the field. And then, as Hamlet would say, the rest is silence. After the Super Bowl, unless your team wins it, you're left with seven months of waiting, wondering, and wishing that somehow next season was already here.

back from the beyond

Hello friends! I realize it's been just two days short of forever since I posted to this blog. I had a lot going on with planning our trip to Europe, going on the trip, recovering from the trip, and all that jazz. No excuses. I hope this post doesn't let you down after such a long absence.

First, I suppose I should provide a brief "health update". I am now in the final throes of some serious suffering caused by self inflicted wounds. A couple of weeks before we left for Europe Dr. Alex put me on an oral chemotherapy drug, Xeloda. Supposed to be good stuff. So I faithfully began taking it, four in the morning and four at night every day and continued to do so for five weeks. All through the trip. On the final stages of the trip I got really sick with a myriad of symptoms. Most of the symptoms were chemo side effects to the nth degree. Burning hands and feet, mouth sores, burns elsewhere on the body, etc. etc. When I got home I went straight to Dr. Alex where I found out almost immediately what the problem was. I was supposed to be taking the Xeloda every other week. Not every day. Chemotherapy overdose. Doc said if I hadn't come in I would have been in the hospital within three days. Now that I've been off it for almost a week I'm starting to come around. Sheesh.

He told me he gave me the instructions verbally. They weren't on the bottle that way. Just four in the morning and four at night. Thank goodness I went in. And thank goodness I didn't get sick until the last days of the trip. We had an amazingly great time.  As my friend, Inigo Montoya says, "Lemme explain. No, is too complicated. Lemme sum up."

The trip started out rather ominously at O'Hare. We were delayed almost six hours. We boarded and deplaned twice before getting on for good. We were in a race against time (how melodramatic) because our crew was about to be DQ'd for too many hours. We came within five minutes of being cancelled for the night. But all's well that ends well and we got on the plane and made it to Paris without further incident. We took a train into the city then walked five or six blocks to our hotel in the Latin Quarter.

We all loved Paris. What a beautiful and fascinating city. In addition to seeing all the major sights we wanted to see we also got to just wander around some of the neighborhoods and thereby make some unexpected discoveries. The people were great. The food was good and inexpensive, and the weather was perfect throughout our five days there. If I never see another miniature replica eiffel tower in my life it will be too soon. It seemed there were african vendors selling them on every corner at five for a euro. And they were available in every color imaginable. Enough already.

My favorite sights in Paris were Les Invalides, Versailles, and Ile St. Louis. And of course Notre Dame was absolutely breathtaking. We were almost sorry to leave Paris. If you haven't been, go. If you have been, go again.

Next we boarded a train for the village of Carentan in Normandy. We stayed there with a family we'd never met before, the Rohees. The matriarch was an old friend of my sister in law who studied for a year in France during college. They were roommates then and remained close. They were kind enough to offer to put us up in their home for a couple of nights. They have three teenaged children 18, 16, and 14 so our kids would have someone to relate to. The only slight problem was that none of them spoke English and none of us spoke French. Actually they did speak English much better than we did French but there was still quite a language barrier.

Mont St. Michel

They were the kindest and friendliest people we could have hoped for. The first night we arrived in Carentan they took us for a brief tour of the town then put us in their cars and whisked us off to Mont St. Michel. It's the most visited landmark in France and for good reason. An incredibly beautiful 10th century abbey/castle built on top of a mountain that just juts out of the sea. I'll put a picture in of it but it can't possibly do it justice. It was a two hour drive out there and two hours back and by the end of the journey we were all fast friends. We had dinner when we got back to their house at 2AM that night.

The next day they took us for a whirlwind tour of Normandy and the D-Day sights. We saw the US cemetery, Mere St. Elise where the paratrooper famously got caught on the steeple of the cathedral, and many other sights that no one but a native could have shown us. It was spectacular. The French countryside and its villages were just unbelievably lovely. That night we had a great dinner accompanied by some home made cider, liquers, and calvados. The next day we were sad to say goodbye to the Rohee family. I'm sure we'll keep in touch with them.

Next we were off to London via a rather circuitous route. We took a train back to Paris, then a cab to another train station in Paris, then a train to Calais, then the Eurostar train through the chunnel to London. We got a nice meal and drinks in our first class cabin on the Eurostar and were in London before we knew it.

We stayed at the Marriott Marble Arch in London. The Marble Arch is an entrance to Hyde Park and is quite literally a marble arch. The neighborhood surrounding the arch was, surprisingly, Middle Eastern. On the same block with the hotel we had Iranian, Iraqui, Arabian, Lebanese, Pakistani, and Afghani restaurants. Right across the street we had a Beirut Express. We later found out it was a chain. Rather than bowlers and umbrellas we saw houka bars and burkhas. The hotel was great. Definitely the best digs we had for the entire trip.

Rehearsal at the Globe

London was large and somewhat overwhelming. We decided to take one of those tour buses throughout the city. We could hop off and off wherever we wanted and had a cheeky Londoner guide for each bus. We resisted doing the bus at first. How touristy can you get, right? But it turned out well. We got to see all the major sights in the city and we did a good deal of hopping on and off. We toured Buckingham Palace and saw the changing of the guard, toured Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (v3) and several other landmarks. We also had a box of various "neighborhood walks" on cards and did some of those as well. Overall we all found London the least wonderful place on the trip. Very large, very crowded, very expensive. Still fun, memorable, and exciting. Just less so than the other places we visited. We spent four nights there. Madison got some good shopping in. Connor and I went to the British Museum which was very cool as well. I got a bit ill while we were there which probably didn't help matters. All in all we were happy to get on the train for Scotland.

We had a five hour train trip between London and Edinburgh. A beautiful ride through the English and Scottish countryside. We arrived in Edinburgh during the heart of the Edinburgh Festival and the Fringe Festival. Wacky wacky crazy fun time. If you're not familiar with these festivals they bring millions of people, both performers and audiences, to the city. There are thousands of performance venues featuring everything from jugglers with chainsaws to the Royal Shakespeare Company. Tickets run the gamut from free to incredibly expensive and the quality offers the same type of range. All in all though, hugely entertaining.

Aside from the festivals, Edinburgh is a really gorgeous city. We toured Edinburgh Castle and a few other amazingly beautiful landmarks and met some lovely Scottish people. The last day we were there Connor and I took a bus tour out into the Trossachs and to Stirling Castle. Saw some great scenery and the beginnings of the Highlands. And Connor had a dream come true when he bought himself a kilt with all the trimmings. All in all I think Connor and I liked Scotland best of all our stops and Stephanie and Madison would probably pick Paris with Edinburgh a close second.

I'll leave this post with a final observation. I brought and used something called a "transport chair" throughout the trip. It's a wheelchair without the big wheels on the side. Which means I couldn't transport myself in it. I had to be pushed. Thanks to my family for having the patience to push me around a lot of the time. I had the chair because of my somewhat weakened state and it's a good thing I did have it. I don't think I could have made it without it.

It also gave me a great appreciation for what actual handicapped folks go through. I was able to get up out of the chair and have Connor carry it up and down subway steps and other steps and obstacles. I can only imagine how frustrating most of these places would be for someone who couldn't get out of the chair. I thought I could empathize before but now I have a much better idea. What courage and strength those folks have.

overdue

Well, I'm through making promises about my frequency of posts. I see that it's been sixteen days since my last one when I vowed to make them once a week. Oh well. I'm sure nobody was gnashing their teeth to see the latest anyway.

I've been doing quite a bit of reading, as usual. I finished Atlas Shrugged. I suppose my reaction would be a shrug. Almost fourteen hundred pages of philosophical dogma with some shreds of plot thrown in for good measure. If you're not familiar with Randian philosophy, aka objectivism, it's all about free markets and egoism. One of the characters delivers a mind blowing three hour monologue outlining said philosophy near the end of the book. I know it would be three hours because she repeatedly refers to it as the "three hour speech".  I forced myself to finish it and I'm glad I did. I hate to leave things unfinished.

I also read The March by E.L. Doctorow, The Bloody Ground, another Civil War historical fiction thing, and Treasure Island. Treasure Island was a nod back to the pirate stuff I read previously. I didn't know I had a copy of it and when I discovered it on the shelf I couldn't resist. These three books combined didn't reach the length of Atlas Shrugged and yet I found them all infinitely more entertaining.

I just finished my last round of chemotherapy this week as well. It laid me out as usual but I am so glad to be done with it. I have to start radiation on June 1 but that couldn't be nearly as bad as the chemo. Could it? Let's hope not. I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired. I look forward to feeling better as the doctor promises.

I'm contemplating some trips. To North Carolina with Madison to see North Carolina School of the Arts and to visit my ailing Grandma, and to Southern California to visit some friends and relations. Stephanie is being great about encouraging me to travel. She knows I'm somewhat depressed and that a change of scenery might do me good. I wish I could take her with me everywhere but her job doesn't permit unfortunately.  We're still planning to go to Europe at the end of July as well. Need to pick up the steam on the planning for that one or time will pass us by. Hasta luego amigos.

The end in sight

Yesterday I started cycle seven of eight of my nasty chemotherapy. It gets cumulatively worse as far as side effects go so I've been doing a lot of sleeping since I came home from the hospital and little else. Two weeks from tomorrow they'll disconnect me from this dreaded pump for (hopefully) the last time. Hooray!

Next step is radiation again. I have an appointment with the radiation oncologist tomorrow. Apparently they're going to try some narrow beam radiological surgery thing that is aimed at controlling the tumor growing into my pelvic bone. That's the one that they believe to be inoperable otherwise so I have my fingers crossed it will succeed.

After that it's probably back onto some chemo orally along with avastin orally. The doc tells me the side effects of the oral drugs are very mild so I should be able to function fairly normally. And he promised that if they do make me sick he'd give me a reprieve for a few weeks while we go to Europe this Summer.

That's about it on the medical front. Nothing much else to report. I've embarked on a new book, Atlas Shrugged. It's about 1500 pages so it should keep me occupied for a while at least. I'm also going to start a writing class down in Chicago later this week. We'll see how that goes.

Be well and Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there.

Avast ye mateys

There's no explaining why something catches my fancy and latches hold from time to time. None whatsoever. On my recent trip to New Orleans my friends and I came across a large contingent of pirates carousing in the French Quarter. Geoff struck up a conversation with a particular female pirate as she stumbled across Decatur Street and we learned the tale of this crew (What's the word for a collection of pirates? I'll go with crew for now.).

It seems there is some national or international group of hundreds of people who are way into pirate lore, culture, history, dress, etc. They come from all over and meet annually (for the last few years anyway) in New Orleans. They dress in full regalia period true costumes, carry cutlasses and boarding axes, and speak in pirate-ese. They also apparently take pride in emulating real pirates habit of drinking to excess.

Later that evening we crossed paths with subsets of pirates enjoying their bacchanal throughout the Quarter. My friend Paula even had her picture taken with a gaggle of them dressed in pink pirate gear. Hmmm. Predictably and happily these folks didn't create much of a stir in New Orleans. It is New Orleans after all and I'm sure they see a lot stranger things than a hundred pirates marching down the street all the time.

During our questioning of the female pirate of Decatur Street (What was her name?) Geoff, ever the scholar, asked her what book or books she might recommend to learn more about real pirates beyond what she taught us in her brief street side lecture. She tauted a book called Under the Black Flag, by David Cordingly.

Well, since I sit here with relatively little to do I wandered into the library and checked out the book. I also checked out another called Empire of Blue Waters and read them both this past week. So if you ever have any questions about pirates just ask me.

The first book is a rather academic factual history of piracy through time and across the world but primarily focusing on the golden age of pirates in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. I learned a lot but found most of the book rather dry. Nothing like a table in one appendix listing all the major piracy trials and subsequent hangings. Suffice to say they hanged a lot of pirates in the early 1700's.

The second book was much more entertaining. It chronicled the life and times of one Henry Morgan or Wales and later Jamaica, one of the most accomplished privateer/pirates in history. Morgan, BTW, would cut off your head if you called him a pirate and did in fact sue the author of a book about him who did so. Privateering was, apparently in his eyes, much more respectable. He eventually became so respectable he was knighted and made lieutenant governor of Jamaica.

If you like history and adventurous tales of the high seas mixed with Pirates of the Caribbean I recommend the book wholeheartedly. Jolly good. Jolly Roger good.

I think my pirate phase is over though. I may seek out another book or two but I think I've got the gist of it. Reading these did make me think back to one of my longtime fantasies; learning to sail, buying a boat, and cruising around the Caribbean during my retirement. Doesn't that sound like fun? Sort of a Jimmy Buffett thing? Now if I can just convince Stephanie how much fun it would be we can set sail as soon as Connor leaves the house. And I learn how to sail a vessel I'd trust in the open ocean. To be continued.

Big Easy, Big fun

I just returned yesterday from my trip to New Orleans. As I mentioned in my previous post, I went there to meet my great friend, Eric, for some fun and relaxation. The trip turned out to be even better than expected. Eric had secretly invited two of our mutual friends from Kellogg, Geoffrey Souser and Paula Smorynski to come down and join us.

Wednesday Eric and I hung out in the French Quarter, had dinner at Coop's, one of my favorite New Orleans dives, and listened to some great music on Bourbon Street. Thursday we took a self guided walking tour of the French Quarter. The place is heartbreakingly beautiful and has the most colorful history of any place I've ever been. We then walked along Royal Street and checked out all the antique stores, art galleries, voodoo parlors, and other exotic New Orleans type establishments.

We headed over to Mother's in the CBD for lunch. We were standing in line when Geoff walked up. You could have knocked me over with the proverbial feather. Eric had been excusing himself all morning to take calls and read texts. I thought he was just being rude but he was just secretly conniving with Geoff. I was so glad to see him and we had a great lunch. Less so for Geoff since he's practically vegan and didn't find much to eat on Mother's animal fat laden menu.

We left Mothers and walked around for another couple of hours then headed to the Carousel Bar in the Hotel Monteleone. The bar is a literal carousel that rotates while you have your cocktails. Somewhat disconcerting after a few of them. Now in walks the last member of our former dinner club, Paula.

Back when we were in school together the four of us worked together in some classes and hit it off immediately. The dinner club formed when we started dining together with our respective spouses once a quarter and became fast friends. We also went out together after our last night of class as Kellogg students. I hadn't seen Paula since that night and had only seen Geoff once or twice since. Eight years ago.

It was amazing that Eric thought to bring us all together again. And amazing that Geoff and Paula took the time away from their lives and families to come down to New Orleans and hang out. Thursday night we went to the home of one of our former professors, Georgios Bakamitsos, who teaches at Tulane now. We had a great time at his house. Less so for Geoff since he suffered from some serious food poisoning from a bad falafel and had to leave early. He was, thankfully, recovered by the next morning.

Friday morning we went for a tour of the Garden District and saw some beautiful homes and the homes of some notable New Orleans residents like Anne Rice, Archie Manning, Trent Reznor, John Goodman, Nicolas Cage, and many other amazing Victorian beauties. We went to the fabled Commander's Palace for lunch. Georgios met us and we had a fabulous meal and even sampled their 25 cent martinis. Even Geoff had the best plate of sauteed vegetables ever according to the waiter.

After some recovery time in the afternoon we hit the Quarter again. Eric was jonesing for a muffaletta and though Central Grocery was closed we managed to find him one. We went to Pat O'Brien's and then heard an amazing set of Dixieland Jazz at Preservation Hall. Later it was off to Cafe DuMonde for a nightcap of cafe au lait and beignets. We also came across a convention of pirates marauding throughout the Quarter. Only in New Orleans.

Sadly, we all had to get up and go Saturday morning. I did get a great plate of red beans and rice with andouille, cornbread, and collards at the airport on my way out of New Orleans. It was a really memorable trip. I can't thank Paula, Geoff, Georgios, and especially Eric enough. I've mentioned in this space in the past what an amazing man Eric is and his arranging to bring this together is just further proof. Thank you Eric.

I'm glad to be home but I'll never forget this trip and my friends for making it so fantastic. Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Better late...

It has been almost a month since I posted to this blog. Shame on me. I'd like to say that it's because I've been hard at work on my novel. Or that I've been busy stripping wallpaper (eek). Or that I've any good excuse for not doing something productive. But I haven't. I've just been lazy. And sometimes sick and tired. Mostly lazy.

I hereby resolve that I am going to start assigning myself writing and other projects so that I don't go completely crazy. My lovely and wonderful wife has been ever so gently suggesting that I find things to do since I'm prone to depression when I don't have purposeful endeavors. So there you go. Whether you like it or not I'll be posting something here at least once a week. Putting it on my calendar right now. I'm also going to do my darnedest to write some fiction of some sort. It's nice that people think I have a knack for writing enough to suggest I do more of it and even to suggest they might read it. A memoir seems so self indulgent so I'll confine the memoirish ramblings here where they can't get out.

As for other "things to do" I'm taking suggestions. I'm considering golf but it's expensive. I'm willing to do some volunteer work if I find the right thing to do. There's also my see sawing health which makes committing to things difficult. Perhaps when my current chemo treatments are over I'll find something.

And now to the news: One week ago today I began chemotherapy treatment cycle number five of eight. If you're at least as good at math as I you'll calculate that I'm more than halfway done. Yippee! The plan remains to rescan and reassess after the cycles are complete. Dr. Alex mentioned at my last meeting with him that he's been talking with the radiation oncologists about my case and that they might try to treat my pelvic spot with radiation. Not that I look forward to that, having been radiated thoroughly in the past, but he seems to think it holds promise. So I got that going for me, which is nice. I'm really looking forward to being done with this chemo and feeling good for a while.

Connor and I recently visited Disney World with my mom, her husband, his daughter, and her family. It was an excellent trip. Mom rented a very nice house and her other two grandkids, Griff and Lily, were delightful. We visited all four Disney parks and I only had to go home early once. I was very pleased with my stamina. We rode everything and even did all the roller coasters multiple times. Big fun.

This week I'm going to New Orleans with my great friend, Eric Solberg, for three days. Eric and I have been close since we went to business school together. He has been amazingly supportive throughout my whole cancer battle and is just an amazing man. He has lived in San Diego for the past five years or so and we don't get to see one another often. So we're going to hang out, see some sights, eat some good food, listen to some great music, and generally have a good time. Stephanie has been wonderful about suggesting I do things like that. That's incredibly generous of her since we rarely get to travel together as a family. And since I'm on the government dole and we're poor wards of the state. Thank you, dear wife!

That's all the news for now. The children are doing magnificently. Summer is almost upon us. So I'd better get going. ttfn.

Lion in Winter/Spring

It snowed here yesterday. And the forecast calls for snow again today, Sunday. Thursday and Friday the temps were in the sixties, the sun was shining, the top was down on my shiny convertible, and all was right with the world. It is amazing to me how folks' outlooks on life itself are impacted by the weather. Myself included. Why don't we all live in California, Florida, Arizona, or some other sunkist spot?

Somehow, that old argument about seasonality always comes up. "I like the change of seasons!" Well, so do I but I think I'd be perfectly content with just a week or two of Winter and a smaller smidgen of Fall. I'll put that in the old suggestion box. Along with a few other suggestions.

I'm starting to believe one's age can be determined by the percentage of his/her thoughts and conversations that relate to weather. My kids never talk about the weather. I don't think they even think about it at all. They just (sometimes) don the appropriate clothing and gear and go out and face it. I hereby determine to speak and think less of the weather. And hopefully think less about it. I've always been a fan of that serenity thing: God give me the wisdom blah blah blah, don't fret about stuff you can't effect anyway, etc. There, I feel younger already.

Along that same line I find myself, somewhat disturbingly, feeling tranquil about my medical situation/cancer. Oh, I'm certainly efforting to take much better care of myself than I have in the past. But beyond that I feel like it's out of my hands. In the hands of the "higher power". And I'm really OK with that. I just completed chemo treatment number 3 and I'm coming out of the funk and sickness. My existence now is really sort of bipolar. On the week I have treatment I feel like total crap Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday then slowly ramp out of it the rest of the week. I'm conciously trying to push myself physically more each day. I'm no Bear Grills. I just try to walk a bit more or do some curls with my immense ten pound barbells. Feel better and better each day until that dread Monday when it's back to the chair for another treatment.

I get a week's respite this time to go to Disney World/Orlando with my son, Mom, stepdad, and stepsister/stepbrotherinlaw/theirkids. Should be a lot of fun. And the weath...It will be warm! We're off this coming Saturday until April 2. Then back to the chair April 5. It will be a good exercise in pacing. I'm so looking forward to it.

At the risk of diving into one of the three unswimmable pools of philosophy; love, politics, and religion I'll just randomly dangle my feet in the last puddle for a moment. It's something one thinks about in my situation. At least this one does. And these are my musings, right?

If you asked me today, "What is your religion?" I would quote one of my heros, Honest Abe Lincoln, who said; "When I do good I feel good. When I do bad I feel bad. And that is my religion." Sort of a golden rule/karmic ideology that I honestly adhere to. I know I have done bad, many times in my lifetime. And I'm genuinely sorry for all the pain I've caused my friends and loved ones by doing so. So sorry. But I also know I've done a lot of good and my concious aim every day is to continue to do more and more good and less bad every day. If I can continue to do so I'll feel I've lived a good and valuable life and made a positive impact on the planet.

OK. Deep. How about that NCAA tournament? I love me some March Madness. I kept thinking about my friend John as I watched the stunned and defeated Kansas players exit the arena yesterday. John bleeds Jayhawk blue. Since I've never really had any strong allegiance college basketball wise I can only imagine how that felt for him. Maybe like I felt at the end of the epic Miami-San Diego playoff game? Anyway, I felt for you Johnny B. And you have to admit it's hard not to pull for a team with a guy named Lucas O'Rear. If he doesn't make it in the NBA he might have a future in gay porn with a name like that. I do root for the underdogs in the tournament and it's heartening to see a St. Mary's or Northern Iowa make a run. Here's hoping one of them makes it to the Final Four. When does football season start?

Oscar

A few notes on last night's Oscar telecast then probably some random babbling.

First, am I the only person who's shedding no tears over Baba Wawa's hanging up the steps after 29 interview shows? I have never understood the woman's appeal. If we consider asking Ricky Martin about his sexuality hard hitting journalism then OK. But I just don't get it. Please go quietly into that dark dark night, Barbara. I realize tradition dies hard but she's almost as painful for me to watch as Dick Clark at this point.

And now for the obligatory style points. I don't claim to be Mr. Blackwell or any fashion plate myself but...Who dresses some of these people? Since I do know a little bit about men's formal wear (based on my three years working in the schmata business and my yearlong senior year gig as sales representative of Nick's formal wear during which I wore tuxedos to school every day. And no you can't see any of those pictures) I'll start with the men.

I wasn't taking notes so forgive my not knowing the fellow's name but let's just call him "That tall sound effect guy who clearly picked up the wrong tux at the cleaners then didn't know how to dress himself". You know the one I mean. Black tail coat with a vest six inches too short and no cufflinks. How do you not stop at the Circle K for a pair of cufflinks when you see your cuffs flapping in the breeze. I really felt for the guy. He was only the most glaring example of the truth that you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him tie his tie correctly.

As for the ladies, well, I'll just say there were a lot more gowns that made me say Hmmm? than those that made me say, wow! At least there were no Cherlike, or Swanlike costumes to really heap ridicule and scorn upon.

Now for the awards themselves I didn't see all ten nominated films. Did anyone? But I did see Avatar and Hurt Locker. Now usually I'd step up on the artsy fartsy platform and applaud the "serious" film's multiple victories. But I have to say I really thought Avatar got gypped. Backlash against all its box office success? Anger over the way Jim Cameron treated Kathryn Bigelow? I dunno. All I know is I personally thought Avatar was the superior film. I do think Bigelow's victory (for femaledom)  is way overdue. So congratulations to her.

As for the acting awards I haven't seen Precious (based on the novel whatever by whoever) or Crazy Heart. I loved the Nazi in Inglourious Basterds and also thought the joke about him was the best of the night. BTW, could someone fill me in on all the Hitler/Meryl Streep references? Also happy for Sandra Bullock though she knows as well as I she can't carry Streep's compact case.

Finally the first production number with Doogie Howser worked for me. Some excellent jokes in there that seemed to go right over the audience's head. The last one with the dancers (spotlighting the musical scores) was amazing. And I somehow liked the combination of Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. I can't figure out whether Baldwin's sliminess is good slimy or bad.

All in all an entertaining show. It served its purpose in my case. I saw lots of smidges of films I want to see now. So let's all go to the movies.

And to hell with any further babbling. I've babbled enough. For the foreseeable future I expect I'll only update or post about once every two weeks since in the intervening week I'm feeling like crap. Until the chemo is over!

In like a lion...

March 1 has come and gone and the old man didn't exactly come in like a lion. So I guess that's good. It's actually sunny today here in the great white north. Yippee!

I did have to start out the month with another chemo treatment. That's never fun. Actually this one seems to be characterized by a most wicked case of hiccups that I can't seem to make go away no matter what I try. And those tend to make it impossible to sleep which makes me grumpy and otherwise irritable.  Ah, well, could be much much worse.

Aside from that crazy symptom just the usual fatigue and nausea. If form holds, they will all improve over time so that by this weekend I should feel pretty decent. I guess i'll take it. Dr. Hantel seemed encouraged this week by the CEA scores and reduced pain. He's optimistic that this might actually work for a while.

I'll write more as I feel better. Right now I'm sure I've bored you to tears. Ho hum.

Children and Art

I'll take a break today from my maudlin meanderings to focus on the latest doings of my darling and amazing children. Please indulge the proud parental boasting for a few minutes.

Madison is about to open as Olga in Chekov's Three Sisters at her school, The Chicago Academy for the Arts. If you're wondering what business any HS kids have doing Chekov so am I but I fully expect Madison will be excellent. She's an old soul. Incredibly mature for her age. She's learning a lot and sucking it all up like a vacuum.

Last night she had another amazing experience that I'm sure she'll not soon forget. One of her best friends, a sophomore at her school, was cast in The Goodman Theatre's new world premiere production of a play called The Long Red Road directed by Oscar winner Philip Seymour Hoffman. Last night was the press night. Madison's friend, Fiona, got a great review from the Tribune's theatre critic:

http://leisureblogs.chicagotribune.com/the_theater_loop/

Madison did audition for the role herself but the character is 12 and she can't play twelve anymore. She has, however, been able to make the most of it. She saw a preview of the show a week or so ago and afterward a meet and greet with the cast, playwright, and Hoffman. Phil, as Fi and Madison refer to him, also came over to the Academy yesterday and met with all the theatre students (25 of so).

Last night Fiona gave her a ticket to the invite only press night performance and the party afterward. She got to meet and speak with Brian Dennehy and Robert Falls at the party. She's seen Dennehy in Desire Under the Elms at the Goodman and mentioned she was a big fan. He told her she wasn't old enough to be a big fan and that he had rashes older than her. I'll have to remember that one.

Madison wrote a paper about Falls, the Goodman's artistic director for 25 years, in school and told him so when she was introduced. He must have a very sharp eye because he asked her if he hadn't seen her somewhere before, at the preview last week perhaps? He had, of course, but she didn't meet or speak to him then so I'm sure she was thrilled he remembered her.

Soon she's off with a friend, Becky, and Becky's mother for college visits in New York at Julliard, NYU, and SUNY Purchase. It will be tough to see her off to college but like most teenagers she's rarely home anyway. I told Stephanie yesterday I'd like to do something with Madison, just the two of us, soon. I so seldom get to speak with her for more than a minute.

While Connor's life is not quite as exciting as Madison's at the moment, give him time. He's just an 8th grader. Yesterday he got the news that he had been cast as the Beast in his Jr. High production of Beauty and the Beast. He's excited. He's growing into a very handsome young man if I do say so myself and a talented one to boot. He sings, he plays piano and guitar, composes music, and draws very well. Unfortunately he doesn't focus his energies on his schoolwork as much as he should and just getting him to turn in his work is a constant challenge. We're hoping that might change next year in HS. Either way I know he'll continue to grow into a good man. He has a heart big as Texas.

There's a song in my favorite Sondheim musical, Sunday in the Park with George, called Children and Art. The implication is that those two things are the most significant legacies anyone can leave behind. Lately when I find myself wallowing in melancholy over the worst things in life, regrets, I have to pull myself up short and remind myself of that. While I didn't leave a mark artistically anywhere in the cosmos I did somehow partner to create and nurture two amazing kids. Whether they make a mark in the arts or elsewhere in the world doesn't matter much to me. I just want them to be happy. remember their parents lovingly, and reach my age or older with as few as possible of those regrets.

Who knows? I still might have time to write my own opus. Once I get started. :)

words words words

I've been digesting a lot of them lately. I'm going on "author jags" lately. I find an author I like and want to read their entire canon. Perhaps reading is an escape for me. Hmmm....Don't think there's any perhaps about it.

This morning I finished The Caine Mutiny. Thus end the Herman Wouk WWII novels. About 3,000 pages of him in the past month. I'm not sure I'll go back and read Marjorie Morningstar or any of his remaining stuff immediately. The three I just finished were excellent writing. Highly recommended. But then I really like historical fiction.

The first two, Winds of War and War and Remembrance, have excellent histories of WWII woven into them. I have a newfound greater appreciation for my grandfathers and the rest of the "last best generation" or whatever it is they're labeled with. Frightening to think how the world might be if that conflict turned out differently. Sobering to think about how little thought we give those sacrifices these days. I hope to visit Normandy this Summer and pay my respects.

There is also a subplot in the two histories regarding the plight of Jews in Nazi controlled Europe and Auschwitz. Of course those circumstances are almost beyond comprehension and belief. From the perspective of that time I was struck by what Wouk refers to as "the will not to believe". When the stories began to come out they were just too horrible. People, including potential victims and potential rescuers just couldn't comprehend that a civilized nation and people could be capable of such horrible atrocities. I suppose the lesson for me is that individuals and collectives are capable of amazingly good things and amazingly horrid things and that disbelief should not be our first reaction. I think I have a better understanding now of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and what Israel means to the Jewish people. Just incredible that all that happened within my parents' lifetimes. Woops. There I go with the disbelief.

Well, that was really uplifting wasn't it? Just call me Donnie Downer. Debbie's brother. A few months ago I read all of Cormac McCarthy except Suttree which is regarded as his masterpiece. Just got that from the library yesterday so I guess I'll circle back and check that one off the list. His stuff's not too dark either...ahem.

Who should I go to next? Please recommend an author I might choose. I guess in my present state I'm hoping to tick off the classics I haven't gotten to yet. Why is it that most of the "great literature" is so depressing. I'll go out to the Internet and snoop around. Can't think of any laugh out loud titans.

Off I go. Off like a prom dress as I used to say. ;)

Thrill of Victory...Agony of Defeat

I know for me those words conjure that poor anonymous ski jumper going head over heels at the beginning of every Wide World of Sports episode. I keep thinking of him as I turn on the olympic games.

Call me an old fart but I sort of miss that old feeling that these folks are toiling in anonymity for four years at some obscure sport like curling or luge only to burst onto the world's stage for their fifteen minutes of fame. Of five minutes of fame. Seems now they all are so commercialized and sponsorized. Still it's entertaining.

I love the female snowboard half pipers with their faces shining off the jumbotron at the end of the run and their iPods blaring during their runs. I especially cracked up at Kelly Clark who sang along tonelessly to her iPod tunes at the top of her lungs. Bronze medal worthy.

I really enjoy watching the downhillers and their incredible fearlessness. The tiara just kind of spoils it a bit.

I've finally reached the end of my patience for figure skating and can't stand to watch it. Even though the guy who won is from right here in Naperville, IL. The fuss and feathers is just too much. After Blades of Glory it's all downhill, so to speak.

Ah well. It's a quiet Saturday afternoon with not much else to do. Click.

nada mucho

This second round of chemo is kicking my butt. I'm hopeful that I'll start feeling better day by day but for now I've been nauseated, feverish, etc. for a few days.

I feel like a slug. I've done nothing but read and watch a little TV. I'm reading Herman Wouk's War and Remembrance. It's only about 1500 pages but seems an easier read than War and Peace. I'm almost done with it so after that maybe Tolstoy.

PET Scan

Almost forgot to report on the results of last week's PET scan. One more instance of cancer showed up in one lung. So for those of you keeping score at home, that's lung, liver, and possibly two spots in the pelvis.

Doc says the tumors are all small enough that he believe the chemo alone may prove successful in shrinking them. Then perhaps some radiation afterward to boot. He continues to be optimistic in the short term and less certain on the long term. But then...aren't we all?

chemo round 2

24 hours into the second round of chemo. Fun stuff. I'm not feeling nearly as badly as I did two weeks ago at this time. Probably due to the fact that I'm not offloading ten tons of narcotics while onloading all the chemo poison. I'm not exactly up to running around the block though.

I'd really like to write more to record all my thoughts for posterity. Just not much comes to mind at the time.

I am excited about my upcoming trip to Orlando and Disney with Connor and to see my mom. I think I'll be physically up for it and I do look forward to the warm weather. Also working on planning the european vacation. It's a logistical problem to be sure. First we have to confirm the dates then figure out where to fly to first and then how to get from place to place and where to stay and what to eat. I wish we could do it more "seat of the pants" but I'm sure that would result in massive frustration in the end. We know we want to be in Edinburgh for the end of the trip so that we can catch the festivals there in August.

I've gotten some massive tomes from the library to read so that's keeping me busy as well. Thanks for all the good thoughts!

VD

Happy Valentine's Day all! Not to get all morbid but every time a holiday comes up I hope I don't keep wondering whether I'll see the next one.

I hope not and think not. I want to do something special with my wife and kids today. Otherwise I have no plans and I haven't planned that. Maybe just go out for breakfast or whatever. I hope you all have fun.

iPad piddles

OK, I'll admit I'm enamored with the iPad and all Apple's other iProducts. That's why I find myself reading these articles.

But even more entertaining are comments from people like "Ram" who seems to be challenging the rest of us to bschool pissing matches to prove how smart he is. I guess with all the good things that come with the democratization of the Internet we have to put up with dunderheads having their ignorant say.

And, for the record, I'll be shocked if Apple doesn't cut prices across all the models by $50-$100 by the end of 2010. Then I'll really want one.

Social Security

Spent several hours in the local Social Security Administration office today. If you ever want to see a slice of life that is certainly one. There were, of course, the obligatory crying babies and ripe smelling folks. The wait was long but everyone seemed to be in relatively good spirits.

I was in no hurry to get my business done there I suppose because of the nature of that business. I was there to apply for disability. I had a large packet of paperwork provided by the MSW's at the hospital. I hadn't the heart to look through it at length but the upshot of it was that I wasn't physically able to work any longer and therefore needed disability ASAP.

The young lady who processed my application, a Mrs. DelGado, was extremely nice and assured me that my application would be processed very quickly. Even as soon as next week. Nevertheless the government requires that you wait five months from the point of disability until your benefits start. Just really strange to sit there and listen to her describe how much money I was entitled to, how much my kids would receive, and how much my family would continue to receive after my passing. Sheesh. I hope to put that off for as long as possible.

Yesterday's PET scan was fine. Just time consuming. I should get the results when I go visit the doc Monday. Of course it crosses my mind that there might be additional cancerous areas but I'll know Monday and not before so no point worrying about it too much. I have chemotherapy starting Monday as well so I'm sure I'll be feeling like I'm dying shortly thereafter anyway.

Sunday is Valentine's Day. Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

Bridge over Snowy Water

More disjointed ramblings, I'm afraid. I've got a log going on for a guy who doesn't have a job.

I went to the hospital today to meet with a kind social worker who's assembled my dossier/application in a fairly bulletproof way. That means I should be chewed up and spat out of the system in a matter of weeks rather than months and that my application for disability will pass with flying colors. If all goes well. Something called "compassionate circumstance".

I hate the idea of going on the dole when I feel I still have contributions to make to society. However I guess I have to face the fact that my health is precarious enough that the government is willing to go all compassionate on me. My official diagnosis as of now is large bowel/colon/rectal cancer with non proximate metastasis to the liver. Mmmm.

Tomorrow I go for a PT scan. That's the one that somehow identifies cancer cells wherever they may lie in the body. I guess I'd be less than fully forthcoming if I didn't admit to worrying about finding additional cancers/tumors elsewhere in the body. Since the last CT I had done was only abdomen and pelvis I could have metastasis in the lungs or brain, I guess. Lung, liver, and brain are the three most likely places for large bowel cancers to branch out. Or, I could be completely free of any additional disease.

I saw my son, Connor, sing a solo in his chorus concert tonight. The kid has mad skillz. He and I are going to Disney World with my Mom and her husband over his spring break. That should be big fun. And mom was kind enough to treat for the airfare and the park tickets. I'm going to try to see some of my old Florida chums while I'm there as well.

Connor is auditioning for Beauty and the Beast at school. Every time I think about those sorts of things I make a silent plea that I see that one and the next. Next up is Madison in Three Sisters. I'm really looking forward to seeing that.

After the PT scan I have another chemo session beginning Monday. Probably won't post any time soon after that so I'll try to hit it as frequently as I can prior.

apologia

BTW, I'm brand new at this blogging thing. You savvy bloggers just quit your snickering right now.

Super Monday

I promised myself and my darling wife that I would begin to regularly post to this blog starting today. Expect things to be rather random. And I apologize for jumping in in the middle of the story.

There are a lot of things going on these days. On the trivial current events front, yesterday, the Saints won Super Bowl 44. I don't do Roman Numerals. I couldn't be happier for the team. I couldn't be happier for the city of New Orleans and its people. Great! And Drew Brees is my new favorite humanitarian and football player. If that's the last Super Bowl I see I'm not disappointed.

Last one? Why would I say such a thing? Well, recently I learned that my cancer has recurred. I've got some spots on my liver and probably another instance of cancer in my pelvis. I'll know more after a PT scan Thursday. My oncologist, Dr. Alexander Hantel, has been great for me over the past almost five years. I'm sure he's somewhat disappointed himself because as of September 2010 I would have been "cured".

And now I'm not and, so he tells me, I won't ever be. I started chemotherapy last week and we'll know more about the prognosis after a few more treatments. If the chemo is effective I could live for a while. If it's not...

There is a lot of good news is that diagnosis though. First, the chemo has already reduced the debilitating pain I've had for the past four years. And that is really really good news. I am actually lucid and not under the influence of major narcotics for the first time in a long time. Woo hoo!

Strangely, I'm not frightened. We'll see how long that lasts. I am going to do a few things I've always wanted to do. I've never been to Europe and I'm going to make that happen this Summer. Stephanie and I talked today about taking a month and visiting France and Great Britain. The whole family. I really really look forward to that. I'm going to start planning the trip immediately. Suggestions welcome.