another sad day RIP Steve

 

 

Some mornings start off sort of hard then turn to gold.

 

Honestly, I woke up this morning with a ton of stuff I needed to do, a few thoughts about my problems and a real desire to get that first cup of coffee down. I did offer my thanks to God for giving me this day, but I was not as happy or upbeat as I normally try to be.

As I inserted breakfast and listened to the news, it just seems that the world is on some sort of collision course with stupidly on a cosmic scale. Nothing seems right. The violence, the horrible condition people live in, the inability to feel good about being alive was pressing down hard this morning.

I finally made the effort to start up the lap top and take a look at the usual stops I make on the www thingy. I was about to give up and just try and make it into my day with as good a spirit as I could muster.

Then I came across this video. All of a sudden it was OK. Life was still good. The world in it’s own special way was a wonderful place. There was a reason to shed a tear in joy and not just cry of sadness.

Please, no thoughts of the ‘tiger mom’ syndrome. I choose to believe this is God given talent to an individual as one of those reminders that people are special and that we matter. I hope you enjoy this and it gives you pause to accept what is still of worth in this world.

 

 

Who the heck is Ethel?

 

As read to my support group last night by Scott

Hello everyone,

As always, the evening of the first Tuesday of each month brings a joy to my heart. Like a young man wrestling with the prospect of falling in love for the first time; the anticipation of yet again being amongst friends is as palatable as the porch scene in the rain between William Hurt and Kathleen Turner in the movie Body Heat. Well, may be not that titillating however I do get very happy and appropriately excited to see each and everyone of you.

I yet again started Radiation treatments this morning for the fourth time. It is rather disappointing at how accustomed I have become to that table and that rather apocalyptic mustard yellow sword of Damocles which revolves around my body. It has become an old companion which brings depressing invisible waves of destruction which in some hysterically ironic way; prolongs my live. Go figure.

As has become my accustomed duty on that bed which I just know came from some Hilton Hotel which Paris somehow decided she could live without (read that as hard as heck); I close my eyes and think of blessings I have enjoyed in my live. My grand kids come to mind first, followed by their parents followed by my mother and father then you guys. In the end, after all the crap, after I take tally and account of what is of any significances in my life; that's about it. Add to that list my belief in God and my church, I quickly realize laying under the revolving science fiction Ray Gun charging forth to slay my disease; those are the only importance I truly have. You guys, each of you and others I know and love as family and friends; you guys, you are my treasure and the glimmering gems which get me out from under that stupid mustard yellow, stupid contraption. It truly is ironic to me how something I really despise gives me the opportunity to say thanks for and show a little appreciation of that list of wonderful people who give me such awesome strength.

No, radiation treatments aren't fun; but I guess they beat chasing after wayward women till my passing from this old world. May be (?)

My mom is still with me. She has no real idea, beyond the faint fact that I am someone she knows. Most of the time now she is asleep, yet I sit next to her on the couch and hold her hand. I take calm warmth from the fact that I know she is mostly at peace now and her sprit is for the most part calm. Like time on that table; "this too shall pass."

Today is my oldest daughters Birthday. I told her on the computer that I loved her this morning and life is good. In the end, it truly is OK.

Thank you to each and every one of you for being in my life, for bringing strength and putting up with babbling on. It's just that I love you all so much and wish you all well.

Be strong my friends, because like the Fields of Asphodel; Cancer Sucks!

PS. for those of you who know:

Billy was a mountain and Ethel was a tree growing off his shoulder.

Do I really need to comb my hair if today I ware a hat?

 

E-mail sent to my support group this afternoon.

Once a man has seen, he can no longer turn his back on it. Never pretend it doesn't exist. No matter who orders him to look the other way.

We do not do this thing because it is permitted. We do it because we are compelled.

-Rorschach from Watchmen/ Alan Moore

Hello everyone,

It has been a while and I have been remiss in my sharing with you for some time as to my place in this world. I shall endeavor to make amends for this is my usually and only realistic way; by the written English language. If you are so inclined to read father, I trust you will be more the enlightened as to my current state. If you choose to end your reading at this point I bid you farewell and my best to you.

If you have known me for any length of time and have been so kind to have read any of my previous communications with the members of this group, you probably know that some sort of historical perspective will be offered as my device of choice to enable us all to consider this moment in life to reflect and learn and question and endure. You shall not be incorrect in that assumption this time as well.

However, firstly; let me express my continued love and respect for each and every one of you. I continue to offer no apologies for my endearments to each of you. All of you offer me strength, encouragements and heartfelt embraces of endearment. Never has such a group existed (in my humble opinion) and I again proclaim my pride of membership in this 'embracement' of support. Thank you.

Some of you may be aware of Maximilian Kolbe (1894-1941), others of you may not be. Either way, please indulge me this small retelling of his story in order to ponder what we have seen and what we are compelled to do. Maximilian Kolbe was a Polish priest who provided shelter for thousands of Jews in his friary. He was arrested and imprisoned by the Gestapo in Auschwitz. When a fellow prisoner escaped, ten other prisoners were to be killed in reprisal. Lined up and helpless to anything but their impending fate, one of the doomed began to cry out, "My wife! My children! I will never see them again!" At this, Maximilian stepped forward and asked to die in that persons place. His request was granted and it is attested that he lead the fellow men in song and prayer as they awaited their deaths. That is where this wonderful mans life ended and is somewhat a known moment in history especially amongst various Christian religious institutions.

Some back-story if you would allow.

Maximilian had also lived in Japan and had founded a monastery on the outskirts of Nagasaki. Four years after his martyrdom, on August 9, 1945, the atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki, but that monastery miraculously survived.

We as a support group are in need to ask ourselves some questions. It is apparent that we need to take our place in line. No my dear friends, our nor my quandaries are anywhere near as dire as Maximilian Kolbe faced. And I thank Divine Providence and the United States military for that. That being said, it is now time that we all search our inner self and ask is there something I can step up and be of service to this assemblage of austere fellows. (?) I can not answer the phone nor make the call. I can no longer stand before any assemblage and preach our cause. But, I can use the written word, I can stand, I can be accounted when it comes time to be strong. I every day offer up prayers for not only individuals in this group, I also offer prayers for our collective blessings as a party of like caused. I give you all as much support as I can and I will answer any desire that may be tendered my way. I can write e-mail. I venture to ask, would we be serviced by a newsletter. If I can, I will.

I really do not want to see this group simply pass in the night. It is so very important to me and I still have need of it. I have once again become subject to the black plague. It has once again returned to my lung, presently about the size of my thumb nail.

I may be the oddity but I always seem to sense the comings, goings and attachments of Cancer within my blood stream. I seem to never be caught unawares by PET Scan results. I always seem to know, I always seem to feel its ugly presence within me.

This past week, I have had to yet again ask questions and obtain answers. I have had council of old and trusted friend, I have meet new surgeons and new systems of medical care taking. I have discovered yet new insurance codes to be used and denied and fought over and to be a source of, well, just another part of my life. I am never at a loss for finding a way to challenge the medical community.

Tomorrow, I go to start the process for my 5th attempt at having a radiation attack upon my health's enemy. It's funny when you have surgeons review your medical history and expound amazement. Yes, he obtained his co-payment from the Stephen R. Parker Medical Relief Act. (Pun intended) Many is the doctor that has been replenished by my condition.

So, like Maximilian, we and I need to ask questions. Amongst them, what line are we willing to stand in?

Amongst so many, I miss each of our departed fellow members; I cry, I remember and I look forward to a time when this group will no longer be needed. It just isn't that time yet. I still need to know you are there. Please don't give up.

Be strong everyone, Cancer Sucks.

Before

 

there was Indiana Jones; before there was Brown. Before there was Holy Blood Holy Grail……there was the Ladies Home Journal. With cover by N. C. Wyeth. This is from 1924.

To my Granddaughters; do not for one second think you can not. Do not never dare not to dream. You are just as valid as anyone. Make your way through life. Climb your mountains, sail your seas. Whether they are high or deep or low and shallow isn’t important. Be strong, be yourself. Dolls are fine if that’s your choice, but not less valid than ancient Mayan secrets. Do not be afraid to wear a dress but be comfortable in dirty jeans. Look beautiful on your ‘red carpets’; be at peace in your own skin.  Be    Do    

 

 

 

 

 

There are many things wrong.

 

Every day, the news is full of ‘woe to man’ stories. One after another after another. This morning I awoke to my country being downgraded. Are you kidding me.(?) The Ring of Fire is, well; on fire. No one has answers. Until now.

Forget 2012. Forget Yellowstone. Heck, forget Washington DC. Here is the true reason, God help us all.

 

 

Have you ever finished the last page of a book and….

Pulp was a big part of my developmental reading. I have packed away my Doc Savage collection ready for Hayden to reach the age of 10 and discover that world as I did.

There is currently a resurge of this venerable form of literature from the early to mid years of the 20th century. A time when there was Radio and the theater of the mind and Saturday Morning serials down on Main Street at the Bijou. My parents showed such movies at their traveling ‘tent movie’ showings early in their marriage. I explored the world of pulp from books.

While I read a lot, I tend to resist blogging and reviewing the books I read for several reasons. I don’t consider what I like to be universal by any stretch of my imagination and; I am not a reviewer by trade. However, ever so often I read a work that I do wish to speak of and share my thoughts.

The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril by Paul Malmont (Simon & Schuster Paperbacks) is one such book. In Mr. Malmont’s debut effort, he manages to take me back to my youth, hits me over the head with nonstop action, takes my breath with white knuckle escapes and reminds me that is was and is OK to know that ‘Right’ does need to win. The twist in this wonderful read is that it revolves around some of the giant pulpateers themselves. You may or may not recognize some our all of the authors/characters mentioned. If you do, you will smile, if not, I ask that you look into the past and discover heroes like Doc Savage, The Shadow or the Avenger. At least it will be an exposure to such names as Dent or Hubbard (yes, that L. Ron Hubbard) and maybe even Lovecraft.

This yarn leaves you breathless.

Oh yes, the review part:

Have you ever finished the last page of a book and thought man, I wish I had written that? Well, now I have thought just that. Good job Mr. Malmont, thank you for taking me back to the time I enjoyed reading stories that were good. Thank you and the others who are bringing back pulp in the written form.

Happy Birthday Disneyland

Thank you WALT. What was just simply roaming thoughts sitting on a bench watching your daughters go round and round became the icon and landmark for 'The Happiest Place on Earth'. For 56 years now, your gates have been opened, the tickets have been sold, the picture in front of the mouse have been taken, a short walk through the tunnel and disbelief is suspended.

There are many sites on the Internet to see pictures and read stories and enjoys other fans company. I hope each of you enjoy whatever remembrance you have planed either at the park or just in your minds. Remember the happy times, the wonderful experiences, the moments of pride in nation and the realization of times past were no different that times present nor times future; to smile with your heart is the true blessing Walt left for us all.

Not just today,

but everyday, I miss my dad. Every single thing that I am is because of him. I miss him and I love him and I wish I had but one more moment to give him a hug and to simply let him share a smile with me. He has been gone for so long but he is always close. He is silent now but says so much. He was there for me and sometimes I didn't even know it. There is nothing Gold can buy, nothing that can be gained beyond the love of a father like mine. I am in all ways most humble by his comfort over the years. He was my Dad. Please hear me when I say; I Love You.

someone snuck into my library and took a picture

 

OK, maybe I am dreaming again. I just love this.