Technical Difficulties? Not With MY Mother-In-Law (and my mom) Around! And Trends That Just Reenforce My Conviction That I Didn't Miss Out On Much...

Hello FellowTravelers!

Laptops should not be confused with basket  or tennis balls and as laptops do not repeatedly bounce when repeatedly knocked to a hard surface which I have apparently tested on more than one laptop.  They break!  Luckily, (Thanks Mom!), this latest laptop was still under warranty so it's been shipped off-to the oomputer hospital.  Until my laptop gets delivered I figured out another device I could communicate  with using a modification or two.  So after purchasing a keyboard, I'm back!  I was "off the grid" for a few days, but thanks to my son's i-Pad (and my fabulous mother-in-law who gave him-the i-Pad) I can once again assault friends and strangers alike!  Yippee Skippee!

Remember "The Miracle Worker"?  The part where Annie Sullivan (Anne Bancroft) finally gets Helen Keller to make the water connection?  My son only has a few chores to do. He feeds a small group of feral cats has for years.  He is also responsible for caring/feeding our cat, Isobel, with myself and  Patient Spouse  taking on a more supporting  role.  Predictably, my 13 year old's interests and enthusiasm extend primarily to feeding and patting the cat.  Cleaning her litterbox?  Not so much.  Gross, but necessary. Like other things  in life

The cat has been daintily vomitting (oddly enough, exclusively in the guys'bathroom! Bonus!) which prompts the PS to start muttering ominously about  "putting her down,"  I mean,I-totally  get his point -I mean,who needs that? Really?

I'm busy juggling chainsaws. If my men want a pet  they have to care for the pet.

So, I had this idea if I could get my son to visualize the connection between a clean litterbox=healthier cat, he'd do a good job. but I'm no Annie Sullivan and my son is no  Helen Keller.  Ms. Sullivan and 

Ms. Keller would clean the box!  Being blind has nothing to do with it.   And you know I would  never lower myself to either listening to or telling a HK joke.  Because they're not funny. Not remotely.

But my thinking that kitty litter could be a liie-changing tool is pretty ridiculous.  Although I've heard cat littler is very useful.  Oh well, speaking of ridiiculous,  I was waiting seemingly forever at the dentist's office (it only seemed like forever,it wasn't actually, it was more like ten minutes.  Having so little time I refuse to waste big chunks of time waiting for anything anymore) and in walked a trendar patient who reconfirmed my general disdain for anything trendy-and my particular aversion to gladiator sandals.   And these were an especially offensive pair!

If you are not familiar with the classic G.. Sandal,they are hilarious because they look like a black boot gone horribly wrong.  Is it a sandal?  Is it a boot?   We don't know!  We'll never know!  The pair that this chick was  rocking were high-heeled, cut out at the toes to show off her pedi and were at least two sizes too small. Her entire outfit was styled around these awful shoes!  (Or boots or whatever)  I mean this person really looked like a  bee.  A well-dressed bee, to be sure, but a bee,  nonetheless.  Now in 2014 the Gladiator Sandal was scaled back, lighter colored, lighterweight, less confused.

But back in the days of '11? These "shoes" were new on the scene-and made every female,every celebrity shorter, heavier and ruined any outfit they were paired with.  I  have made many fashion faux paux in my day (mostly in the  80's,I mean who didn't?) but it's always been my policy to avoid fashion that's more confused than I am.  Needless to say my co-waiter was wearing the-earlier design.

And I could tell she didn't feel like a bee at all!  In fact,she-thought she looked hot!  Maybe even smokin'!  Dumpy?  Desperate?  Also words that  leap to  mind. (Oh come on!  Those shoes were holding  on for dear life!) At the dentist's?  Why?  Apart from amusing me.

PS-A special note to a four-legged fellow traveler, Boomer, whose tolerating both cancer and chemo.  Poor baby!  He's such a good boy!  Cancer blows. Maybe I sound like Captain Obvious, but it bears repeating, especially for those who can't speak,like Boomer.   My love to Mary & Mike, (Boomer's parents),I know you're doing all you can for the boy.

A Little Story with a Big Theme - Heroic!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

My biggest supporter (and harshest critic) suggested I relate the following story here because it's cancer-related before I submit it to CNN-Heroes.  So without further adieu, this is what happened on a Thursday morning two weeks ago to your favorite cancer survivor (that would be moi!).  I woke up with a Patient Spouse that was far away and a cell phone that was dead.  Since I have an autistic child that still needed to get to school, having no means of communication was a major obstacle for us!

I thought I was silenced, incommunicado.  I didn't panic, I remembered I had a computer and my son had an English teacher who thought outside the box.  I used my computer to contact this person who used his I-Phone to contact my son.  He then sent me the four most meaningful words to any mother of any child, the victim of any calamity wants to hear:  "How can I help?"

That was it!  That was all that was necessary for me to see!  Heroism is defined as what a hero does when he or she thinks no one is watching.  Did that simple act of kindness rise to the level of heroism?  I would argue that providing such a basic service to a panicked parent is the epitome of heroism!  Ben Odell would inspire parents and students alike whether he was recognized or not.

The end of the story?  Crisis averted.  Contacts were made.  Additional devices were subsequently employed and by the time PS checked in around 10:00 a.m., everything was kosher, more or less.  My point is the end doesn't really matter.  It's the willingness to do battle, whether it's with autism, cancer, books, phones, Anderson Cooper, whatever.

My son's English teacher is a hero precisely because he doesn't have to be.  He just is.

My son's English teacher made a phone call for me.  No big deal.  But it is a big deal to me.  I'm motivated, inspired and spurred on through his actions.  That kind of problem solving inspires me to work a little harder for a little longer.  If a clever, well-read person, whose paid (probably not well) by the state has chosen to share himself with eighth graders and help them on their journey, the least I can do is "man up" and retrain my brain so I can help my eighth grader!

No, I'm not Anne Frank and Ben Odell is not Simon Weisenthal.  But these are different times with heroism taking many forms.  A dude with an I-Phone can be as heroic as a dude with a sword!  It's not the implement that matters it's the spirit behind the implement!

PS - Sorry as I am to do it, I am compelled to replace the gift-that-keeps-on-giving, Toronto Mayor Rob Ford who has wisely entered rehab, with odiouser (much ickier), NBA owner/racist: Donald Sterling.  Mr. Sterling says all kinds of offensive things that are as crazy as they are unexpected.  And by comparison Mr. Ford has morphed into a big, goofy, mook.  I hope he gets the help he needs, and I just can't get angry with him - he's so Canadian!  Mr. Sterling, on the other hand, can piss me off far into the future!  Pretty much anytime he opens his pie-hole he says something stupid!  It also doesn't hurt that Sterling bears a strong resemblance to "Jabba the Hutt".  So, offend away!, Mr. Sterling, I hear, is very litigious.  I have no doubt he'll pop up now and again to say something crazy (and snack on a fly or two with his frog tongue).

"Beauty Fades but Stupid Is Forever!" Judge Judy "Time Marches On - And Mostly It Marches Across Your Face!" - Dolly Parton, "Steel Magnolias"

Hello Fellow Travelers!

This week's title refers to my ongoing search for physical and spiritual recovery and my race against time.  The slow, forward inexorable movement of every minute, every hour.  Time always wins.  This cancer and it's aftermath have presented me with a clear set of choices:  Surrender and die or search and fight on.  Surrender is not an option.

Did you ever see "The Sopranos"  when it was on HBO?  I'm often reminded of the arrival of cousin Tony (played with comic pathos by Steve Buscemi).  He presumably arrives freshly released from prison to his "Welcome Home" party.  You know he's been gone awhile because he's wearing the clothes he was arrested in, a white, "Miami Vice", suit with pushed up sleeves.  It's totally 80's and totally awesome but it really leaps to mind lately because I feel like I've been locked away for the last few years.

Like cousin Tony, I've missed out on a lot!  Most things, especially trendy things, (gladiator sandals?  Really?) I didn't miss at all.  Some things I completely missed (Remember bath salts?  I learned recently that "Bath Salts" mimic contraband  substances and have nothing whatsoever to do with Jean Nate or Calgon.  I had no idea.   Not a clue!  Thanks a lot, readers!  Someone could have told me!  It was a real "Rip Van Winkle" moment!)

Mostly, though, my physical possessions have been frozen in time. Much like most Disney princesses my clothes and shoes  have remained untouched and largely unnecessary for the last three years. Gathering dust and forever out of style, there is an entire wardrobe that needs to be donated!  I used to collect a specific type of glass bowl many years ago and packed those away. In 11 I bought red and green tubs and packed all the Christmas decor away.  The same goes for framed photos and anything glass or pointy.  Gone! I haven't purchased anything new for myself to wear and don't intend to until I stop spinning.  In the meantime my clothes only need to get me to the gym and into the washing machine.  I have a seasonal collection of workout separates that are the adult equivalent of Garanimals (Remember "Garanimals?  They were for little kids but they all matched!).  I just keep adding to the collection and when pieces need to be "retired", I just throw them away!

My wonderful mo-in-law is the exception to this rule.  Mrs. O' has given me many fine Irish products over the years; sweaters being among my favorites; I'm always cold!  And handbags.  I'm still a sucker for purses, always have been.  You know why?  They are separate from the wearer.  They are style unto themselves.  So shoving them under a table seems a little disrespectful.  Or setting your piece of "style" on top of a bar, not good either.

We update our devices to facilitate the information age (thanks again Granny!) and I have found my voice with a laptop (thanks Mom!) but only I change. Will I win the war?  Decidedly no.  No one does.  I'm getting stronger and lighter every day.  Will I win the battle?  Maybe.  I'm thinking it's about a 50/50 bet at this point.   I have to change even faster if I'm going to be successful.  Physical appearance/possessions/limitations don't matter at all.  What I "used to do/be/like" is irrelevant.  Only now matters.  I think I can do this!  Now if I could just find someone to empty my closet...

PS - Are American kids starving (Jeff Bridges) or obese (Michelle Obama)?  And no, both can't be true.  It's one or the other.  I'm confused.

PSPS - "More Crap My Mother Sent Me"?  She sent me "The Gettysburg Address".  The Gettysburg Address.  I don't really know why.  Maybe she thought I needed my own copy!  Have you ever read it?  It's short!

OK, I Miscalculated on My Bucket List - He's Ba-ack! At The Stick! And I'll Probably See Him AGAIN!

Hello Fellow Travelers!

Near the end of last summer my beloved threw out the idea that we owed it to ourselves and to the memory of "Beatles Gone By" to go to Golden Gate Park and see "Out There" an all day-long event in August, 2013 culminating in a two-hour set by the "cute" Beatle, Sir Paul McCartney himself.  I couldn't think of a reason not to go and thought I might never get another chance to see him.  I might die, he might, someone might.

 Well, we braved a lot of strange smelling clouds, a lot of weird people (?? Somethings trying way too hard to recapture their youth) and a long wait for a perfunctory set that was as predictable as well as economical!  The vaguely satisfied crowd applauded dutifully and filed politely out of the park promptly at 11:00 p.m.  I mentally crossed it off my "to-do" list and moved on.

I just found out that Patient Spouse harbors a not-so-secret desire to go to the closing events at Candlestick Park.  In 2014.  My year!   And guess who's going to be there?  At the "Stick".  In my year.  Yep, Sir Paul!  Oh, come on, I saw him already!  Wearing a freaking wheelchair no less!  (Me, not Sir Paul)   Going to the freezing "Stick" is probably something I need to do but.I don't feel any particular need to see Sir Paul again.  and he just isn't "Out There", he's everywhere. McCartney has become the musical equivalent of VISA.

I receive weekly e-mails from U-Tube with his upcoming shows.  Hospital opening?  He'll be there.  Natural disaster?  He'll be there too! Just added a show!  Wal Mart opening?  Not yet but hope remains eternal!  He's like "Where's Waldo?".  He's that ubiquitous (also=everywhere but then I wouldn't have an excuse to throw around a perfectly good two dollar word like "ubiquitous" and what fun would that be?)

Seriously, you can't tote a deceased feline without tripping over news/dates of Sir Paul!

 To be fair, he's promoting his son's career (his youngest son, James, is a musician) so he's just doing what dads do, helping his kid.  I get that, I really do, James is a lucky kid!  (Don't you think he hears that about a trillion times a day?)  Why can't they wheel out some other musician who's "bucket worthy"?

I'll tell you why, in rock-and-roll there just aren't that many acts that are "bucket worthy" .  Certainly,  there is a seemingly bottomless supply of bottom feeding "retro" acts that have a zillion fans,  Everything from "The Steve Miller Band" to "The Beach Boys" without Brian Wilson.  I wouldn't be bothered these days to see anyone unless I could walk there (or skip) unless that person was really special,  Paul McCartney is that special!  And he delivers!  Only U2 could be more worthy because  they're an entire band they still make awesome music.  That they sell.  And they care about the planet!

So all Sir Paul's presence does is drive up the price of tickets for the rest of us!  I'll probably go to the last night ceremonies at Candlestick Park and see Sir Paul (it is the 50th anniversary of The Beatles playing Candlestick) but I'd rather see Bono,  What's Sting up to?


PS- My favorite gift-that-keeps-giving, Toronto Mayor, Rob Ford is going into rehab.  For smoking crack.  Again.  Good Luck and Godspeed, but I think I speak for all Americans when I say,"We'll miss you, Dude!"