Cancer, the Pale Rider.

"The dark hand will call you,
From out of nowhere it seems
The black cloud will bust apart
Shattering your dreams."*

I have a cousin, an absolutely delightful person, one of the sweetest people. If you ever met her you are lucky. She is losing a terrible, endless battle with cancer. May have already lost. We have drifted apart over the years, but, her smile, and kindness are unforgettable.

Her toughness is undeniable. She has battled bravely. For years, it seems, she has fought the most pervasive, terrible scourge unkind nature has delivered. She told people that she could only work three days, and she said it apologetically. She seemed to feel she was letting people down. She had cancer, and was worried she was not doing enough! Her bravery and strength are a monument to all of humanity.

Think, for a minute, if you are lucky enough to have never faced that demon (and those of us who
have not, are the lucky ones) what that diagnosis must be like. For just one minute put yourself into the seat across from the doctor sentencing an innocent soul to that torture. "You have cancer. Even if it isn't lethal the next few months are going to be hell. And even when we think you have won, you may have lost, this may never end." Think for a minute the terror, and gloom, and pessimism that would invoke. But, do yourself a favor and don't think about it too long.

Thinking, briefly, about the people I know personally, who have been through it, the numbers are staggering, and I hardly know anyone. My cousin, her mother, my mother, my brother-in-law, the CFO of a small company where I worked for a short time, my uncle, another cousin, and his sister, whose cancer moved so quickly and completely the fight was over before it really started, my wife' boss's wife. And this list is not complete, by any means, and I avoid sick people because I am a coward. Of course, there is no way of knowing how many people who have faced this and just did not want to talk about it.

According to Medical News Today, 1 in 2 people will develop cancer. Further, according to the American Cancer Society 1 in 4 men, and 1 in 5 women will die from cancer. Horrifying numbers, mind numbing numbers, incomprehensible numbers, but only numbers. Think of the people you know, think of the nicest among them, think of their smiles. Cancer doesn't care, it will take them just the same.

Really, our only recourse is to try to live a healthy life, take care of ourselves, donate to our favorite charities, try to make a difference any way possible. And whatever else you do, be nice to people, they might be next. And that is an awful thought.


Graham Parker, Fear Not

Life at the gym, life in the world

Joining a gym is sort of intimidating. People walk with purpose and intent, stern and efficient. Finishing one set of exercises, striding to the next, a straight line of exercise geometry. Nobody smiles, or stops to talk.

Until recently the only time I had ever entered a gym was to play basketball, but age and injury forced me to retire. Now, the gym is where I go to exercise. But, it still has to be fun, I need to enjoy my time. I don't want to become a person who glares from station to station, unwavering, looking like he is being sentenced for a crime.

I am starting to work on a plan, "tonight I will do ab crunches on the ball, then cable rows, and dips, and curls, and, other things that I can't think of right now."  But, truth is, planning is not a strength of mine. Life has taught me that learning to flow with change is more important, or maybe I am just not very disciplined. Take your pick. I will not be offended.

Honestly, some of the exercise machines are still a complete mystery to me, so I watch other people use them and then I try to imitate what they did. There is one machine in the free weight section that is completely alien looking, and I still haven't seen anybody use it. It stands right in the middle, and people walk around it, and take weights off of it for barbells or other machines, but nobody ever sits, or leans on the apparatus, and starts lifting. It has become an obsession, I will watch until somebody uses it.

And, while drifting from place to place, headphones in, Dylan, or the Dead, or Tull or somebody
rocking and rolling through the workout with me, I smile at people, and say hello. And sometimes they smile back, and sometimes they don't. Dylan and I don't care. We are there to improve ourselves, and that includes being nice to people.

I am at a loss as to why all of these people with the same goal, exercise, aren't more open, and friendly. We are all working towards the same goals, being healthier. But, we are not going to make eye contact, or acknowledge each other.

In many ways it reminds me of my time in a Catholic high school. I was not a good student, and was only biding my time until I could reach escape velocity. But, I wasn't a real trouble maker or problem, either, but when trouble came, it came in the form of an angry principal. And his anger and loathing were palpable, and the air was thick with rage. I always wondered how he could be so angry, we were both Catholics, we were not that far apart, and yet it always seemed that he hated me intensely. In all fairness, I did deserve to be talked to, I was lazy and apathetic, but in my own defense I was not mean, violent, or a real distraction for anybody.