JULY 28^th, 2012                                                                               The End Zone

My day started as it has started for quite some time now, cancer loaded or cancer free. In this case, I grab my 16 oz cup of baking soda/salt and water open the door for my most antsy Jammer and head outside. It’s the only way to clear, sweep free, simply cleanse the mouth from it’s evening marathon of gunk collection. Jams gets to do his morning dew (ties) while I do the same. The cacophony of the numerous woodpeckers working the dead oak tree in the open space, the hawks showing their spring litter how to hunt (not my dog, mind you), and then taking perch on the highest of high oak tree. Where they can see from up top, I know not, but it is sure cool. Each spring the finch return and build more and more nests around the perimeter of the property, and the babies are born in roll outs, a new nest erupts about every 5-7 days, and then flying lessons begin. These new ones have to be good, and this does require MY supervision because if you are a bird that can’t fly, just run real fast, I got a dog that is gonna win. Remember, my middle name Francis was passed to my son, and it came from 3 generations above, so we are ALL ABOUT the animals here, think St. Francis of Assisi, think San Francisco……their spirituality, their right to space with us, and their rights to participate in the natural balance of things. Should a hawk pluck a mouse or rat out from the creek, or a fox get the best of a raccoon, that’s natural. But, Jammer getting a non-flying baby finch isn’t, so we step in. But, after sneaking out front in my robe and corona sleepers, and picking up my paper, I hustle back in and plant myself on the bench at the turn of the garden, I let it all come to me.  This time, all of it.

I can’t believe I went through ALL of that cancer crap on a daily basis with my Mom, and then again, on a daily basis, with my Dad, accumulating the better part of 17 years, 17 Goddamn Years!!!!.....well, why couldn’t they be here for me? God, how I could have used their wisdom here, Mom’s patience and self-determination, Dad’s absolute unwillingness to give an inch. Let’s see…..I’m recently 55, my folks went through this for a combined 17, call me 6 mos and counting, and we have near enough 18 out of 55 years wrapped up in a battle of cancer……now, wait for it……32% of my life has been consumed with, on a daily basis, with the head to head concern, battle, and gloves on approach to beating an existing cancer in an immediate family member. What did Dylan say about “he who is not prepared for living is preparing to die.”

Help me out Walton or Strohecker, I need the exact quote in there.

But, that is some selfish heavy shit I’m throwing down right now, cause they carried their own burdens, tougher than anything I’ll witness. Dad fatherless at 6, self made Depression Man, Mom motherless at 9, having to readjust her family model soon thereafter, and succumbing to breast cancer, painfully and with toil at what seems like today, a VERY young 63. Dad, a hero in the Greatest Generation, the parachute he jumped out of his nose-diving plane safely secured in the vault in the garage. This nylon gave Dad, and as he shared it, 5 other members of his crew temporary warmth while they negotiated the underground tunnels of what was then Yugoslavia for 9 days in December of 1943.

Then again, who’s to say they weren’t still parenting, guiding they’re baby boy through this unwelcome gauntlet, a firm grip, just like they had at the zoo when they didn’t want to lose me on a busy and foggy Saturday afternoon. I wasn’t going anywhere, they promised Doggie Diner..….

No, as the aforementioned Walton often tells me about himself, “I’m the Luckiest Guy In the World.” Think about it, it’s true for ALL of us….. I have my birds, my 12 pounder is scaring away the mountain lions (that’s what he says), the breeze blows through, geese fly in formation every morning, and I have a diagnosis that points to success, a  victory, a touchdown, New Year’s Eve, Sugar Magnolia, a long deep Midnight Kiss all coming to me soon.

Yeah, it’s gonna take one more day strapping down into my mask, sucking it up, doing my ritual. But on Friday afternoon, it is over. I feel that, I know that deep down inside…….this treatment did it, killed it off, made it go bye-bye. I have operated under that theorem since like Day 5 of the complete treatment, right about the time the first chemo took me to my knees and made a humble man out of me (again).

Funny, the advent of the final 3 or 4 weighed more heavily on me than the 63 days of chemo and 35 days of radiation when I was looking at it from the ledge. Please help me explain that.

Counsel has told me that there will be a feeling of loss when the ritual snaps, the day to day changes and becomes more staccato. Okkaayyyy……..bottom line, do they still cook my mouth from 8 angles with a trillion dollar machine I’m helping to pay for. If not, let me give a thumbs up to the new way, cause mofo is hip to the old one, and homey ain’t playin’

It’s over, the numbers are all pulled down from the garage wall. How could I be so trite as to say Oscar Robertson for #1. He was the greatest, but no, that number is reserved for My Mom, My Dad, My Wife, My Son, My Sister, My In-Laws, My Nephews, My Angels, and YOU, my family.  It got us all to this point. This is no landing deck Mission Accomplished stuff…..I have a long way to go……check ups, tests, Scans, the basic anxiety of what tomorrow may bring. How about the comeback, getting back to solid food, putting the 23 pounds back on (Road trip!), getting taste buds back, whacking a deli sandwich, a burrito, an artichoke? I pray that the taste buds come all the way back on all of these fronts I am greedy enough to not lose any of them.

I’m not done here, either, by a long stretch, “I Got So Much Things to Say Right Now.” We’ll explore lots of topics , not the least of which is the measure of the angels in your world, the presence of spirits, who your God is, shoot, even Jah Rastrafari! Do they show up as a hummingbird in front of you for 25 seconds on your final morning, eyes literally piercing yours, the sounds of their wings audibly present.

I Don’t Know….I may know less now that I knew in the first place. What I do know is that, I couldn’t have done it without any of you, Kiki, Sam PA, my nephews. I am so sorry for any discomfort or emotional mismanagement I may have been responsible for. Sorry for missing some hoops games and practices this summer, sorry about the missing date nights (boys-cancer isn’t even an excuse there), but I’m coming back, taking all y’all up on the offers you made to me, and I will come fast as I can.

This blog thing is amazing, over 8,575 hits as of today. Not everyone had to respond, not the point, but to know that kind of volume was traveling in my circle humbles this man like you will NEVER believe. I knew I had love before, I did, but these levels are beyond my way of thinking. A tearful thank you to you now as you read.

 So, from here, we’re looking at 2-4 weeks before I can get enough solid food to contribute enough protein and calories to my diet. That’s when the tube will come out. I will go in for regular hydrations through my port, so that will stay for a while. My hair is coming back but I am to take it easy and sleep whenever possible. I can dig it. So, I’ll be all around Grizzly Creek Amphitheatre here for the month of August, John Hiatt in Napa on the 2^nd, and slow but sure we crawl out of this thing. The voice is real bad now, energy sapped, just keep doing what you are doing, and if you come by, bring some soup!

Some of you may remember, or may have visited me, in 1984-85 when I went down to St. Thomas (now’s about the time I think I’ll hear my Mom’s voice yelling YES, and I didn’t like it one bit.). CLUB DEAD T-shirts were off the rails on tour with the band when I toured the states, and subsequently on the island when I fell to earth fat and happy from my latest sybaritic bacchanal. I felt about as good then as I felt bad these last few months, should we discuss yin and yang. It was a place of magic and re-birth for me there. Well, I needed a follow up to Club Dead, and what could make more sense than CLUB DREAD. My shirts all were accompanied by a hook line at the bottom, and in a moment of clouded clarity, this one was anointed:

We Jammin’ We Jammin”

That comes from Bob’s powerful and anthemic call to return to Mother Africa, 1973’s Exodus.

In the spirit of my woodpecker’s, hawks, finchs, geese, hummingbirds, blue jays, hoot owls, robins, bats and angels, this feels like a nice way to end this for today. Go get the disc and play along,

I’ll See You in a Couple of Days, Next Up, the beginnings of yet a new perspective

Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right

Singing Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right

Rise Up This Morning

Smile with the Rising Sun

Three Little Birds

Sit by my Doorstep

Singing Sweet Songs

Of Melodies Pure and True

Singing, his is my Message to You Hoo Hoo

Singing Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right

Singing Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right

Rise Up This Morning

Smile with the Rising Sun

Three Little Birds

Sit by my Doorstep

Singing Sweet Songs

Of Melodies Pure and True

Singing, this is my Message to You Hoo Hoo

Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right

Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right

Don’t Worry, About a Thing,

Cause Every Little Thing,

Gonna be all right