October 12th, 2013
Time keeps on slippin’ slippin’ slippin’ into the future….we
are now at 14 ½ mos post treatment, and it seems I’ve got a few things I’ll
need to live with, a new reality so to speak….NONE of which are anything close
to major game-changers, if viewed with perspective. There is light swelling in the neck upon
awakening, parched morning dry mouth, an inability to savor ice cream or
chocolate, not enough saliva to work a good salad and an extensive long-term
burn on the neck keeping me from sporting my moustache goatee deal, thus the
current soul patch. That can all go in the interest of the greater good.
I am a very lucky man. I am blessed, supported, cherished,
inspired, and as we move forward actually more adept at smelling the roses that
I was before all of this began. On our descent from Lake Aloha and it’s 9,500
or so foot elevation in the desolation wilderness back in early August, I had a
frank, candid fluid and spiritual conversation with my neighbor and friend John
Bruel. John, his wife Sally and their 3 boys spent 3 years in the Dominican
Republic on a missionary journey to impact and improve the lives of many, many
people. They were sent by THEIR angels, Sally as a nurse and John as a savvy
technical spirit, and the work they did there can humbly be called an assist
from above. They live an abundant life with all that they give.
Our conversation, in that spiritual high ground, mixed John’s
feelings to mine, which covered different religious influences, Jesuit philosophy,
Christianity and the belief that God is in the air, in the trees, in the lake,
even in the wings of the circling hawks….he later gifted me with a book I am
certain I both read and dissected in Father Becker’s Literature class at SI in
1973. Needless to say, it now begs a second reading, and at John’s urging, I am
now engulfed.
To that end, God is in my neighbor, Matt Chaney, my first
friend when I moved to Lafayette and my greatest inspiration. “Chane-Dawg,” as
he is more than affectionately known around these parts, has been living with
ALS for 13 years, the symptoms of which first appeared when he kept
mysteriously dropping his guitar pick. I cannot begin to describe what he and
his inspiring life have meant to me, my family and our community at large. His
motto on the ALS wrist band I have worn for years is “Never Give Up,” and he
lives that minute to minute. He and his muchachos have created shortcuts in
ways for Matt to remain integrated in life….let me share an example. There is a
new/old game called Cornhole, where you toss small bean bags towards a ramped
wooden platform, the goal being to get it in the hole. Equal parts horseshoes
and Fascination (Santa Cruz Boardwalk) it is a fun back yard game. A couple
Fridays back, in a little Happy Hour scenario, Matt challenged me to a game.
Let me begin by telling you Matt’s arms and hands for the most part, no longer
work, so he tosses the bags WITH HIS FEET! I won 21-17, but I ain’t bragging.
He was this far from beating me WITH HIS FEET, the ones that have the toes that
change the TV remote and type his eloquent, humorous and thought provoking
emails.
There is zero doubt that God is working through Matt for the
insanely over-the-top benefit to individuals, family and the surrounding
community. Happy Hour with Chane-Dawg is a very descriptive term.
Musically, I have been inspired by the words teachings and
attitudes of Jimmy Cliff, who I saw at the Fillmore last month, the same Jimmy
Cliff who holds the dubious honor of being the only performer I’ve ever missed
while holding tickets, last September of 2012. He, along with a select short
list of other acts, has provided the inspirational musical soundtrack to my
life, and he did not disappoint. Tears of joy streamed down my face as the Father
of Reggae music put it all out, dead center 20 feet away. Yes, God is working
through him, too.
Kiki and I had the chance to enjoy a Furthur show at
Berkeley’s Greek Theatre with Lori & Bill Walton a couple of weeks back. Furthur is
Grateful Dead alumnus Bob Weir and Phil Lesh’s band. Filled with friends for
decades, the bowl was an inviting place to re-connect with many, from the
comfort of the soundboard. Bill and I were able to relive our Grateful Dead
touring days from the ‘80’s and ‘90’s together again in story and song, with glances
and smiles, winks and nods that spoke volumes without volume. You want a definition
of quality time, that was it. We grabbed them at the Oakland airport in the
morning, got them back there post-show, and we all four loved every minute of
it. Bill has been mentioned many times before in my various missives and do
know that for inspiration, support, guidance and the imparting of the coveted “championship
mentality,” there are few equals. And we both know that without saying a word.
Oddly enough, Lori & Bill saw Jimmy Cliff the same week down in San Diego,
BW calling it one of the best concerts he’s ever seen (that’s saying something,
he has huge numbers) and Lori expressing her surprise that Jimmy is black. We
all had a good laugh at the one!
Finally, I had some recent appointments with my Ear Nose
& Throat guy as well as my Oncologist, and all is well. Just had my 3rd
scan post treatment, this one a CT scan and I am still boasting an NED
diagnosis, No Evidence of Disease. The oncologist however, warns about
cigarettes and alcohol and how susceptible my mouth is now. The former has
never been in the equation but if he’s telling me my Kona Longboard Ale’s are
in jeopardy, well, we gotta talk. Beer tastes good again, has for many months
now, but waking up to my cacophonous forest aviary in my extended yard remains
the priority, so we’ll continue to monitor that situation. Film at 11 on that
item…..
The Bongo Man Has Come.
TS
