Wednesday, October 29, 2003

This is going to sound terrible, but my father looks great since he got cancer. I just went down to see him and he's dropped 30 pounds. For my arrival, he put on tight, red plaid pants from the 70s and a rayon shirt to emphasis his new, svelte self. He looks 15 years younger. We both agreed radiation and chemo become him. At least for now (actually, the weight loss came from the week in hospital, but play along, won't you?)

Needless to say, he's been taking all this pretty well. Now that the morphine has worn off (he still has no memory of me being with him in the hospital for two nights), he's diving into the post-op treatment. It's pain in the ass and it makes him very tired, but at least there's a feeling of forward motion, of getting a job done. Guys need that. He's six into 44 radiation treatments and the nausea has been minimal. Natalie scored him some very high-end anti-nausea pills (retail price, $80 each), so hopefully he'll get through these next four weeks with a minimal amount of time clutching the toilet.

Go Dad go. And thanks for the good words from many of you out there. Especially the folks I've never met before.

Here's the secret of Spiderman coming to your kid's party - he comes as a guest. That's it! Jake had all his friend over this weekend for birthday #5 and about halfway through, Spiderman rolled up on the back of a motorcycle. The kids were stunned and flocked to him like - well, like a Super Hero in person. Full dress, no intro to the parents and absolutely no Spiderman-like talents on display. Instead, he starts playing with the kids. Tug of war. Potato sack races. Football. Bounce house. Then he sat and watched them eat lunch and finally helped sing happy birthday.

An hour later, the kids were thrilled and exhausted. Spiderman rode off down the street $125 richer. He came to play. What a wonderfully low-concept concept.

Friday, October 24, 2003

Yeah, the Limbo's been down, but it ain't out yet. I've been having one of those moods where I wonder - What's the point of blogging anyway? That and I'm busy with work (who isn't?). And my son has a birthday party this weekend, so I'm teaching myself how to make balloon animals. Oh yeah, and my Dad has cancer. That alone is a real blog-killer. I've been running south to deal with that, giving him showers when he came out of the hospital missing a kidney and some tumor. Finally out of the morphine haze, he asked today if I was really in town with him during the two nights he ripped out his IVs and catheter. I was. Such fun.

You should all avoid such fun.

Hey, today was my birthday. Wahoo.

It appears my buddy Gregg Cagno is a commodity in the land of the rising sun. Check it out Gregg Cagno

I wonder if this is some sort of bootleg based on the half dozen CDs of Gregg's I sold to an Asian one-stop back in the Zesty days? Hmmm