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April 30, 2005
Off the road again.
What is wrong with this country when we can't get a stretch of Texas highway named after Willie Nelson without politicians becoming, well, political?
Our political world has become a game of "by finding fault with others I can make myself look good," no matter what stupidity or harm occurs as a result.
People are dumb. Politicians are worse. I'm gonna rename my driveway "Willie Nelson Court."
Unless Mrs. Popping Culture filibusters.
Posted by Dan at 09:31 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Once again, the headline says it all.
"Car lands in top floor of house"
Posted by Dan at 09:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Time to lighten things up around here with a little cat-on-dog violence.
I think this qualifies as a hate crime under the new laws.
Posted by Dan at 12:30 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
Cat Update
Message from the vet this morning said the latest tests showed some goofy electrolyte readings and they're changing the fluids they're giving Elwood. The vet said that should "take care of the problem."
I'm not sure what he meant by that but he didn't elaborate. Further updates as events warrant.
Posted by Dan at 12:27 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 29, 2005
It's always something.
Posted by Dan at 09:35 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
So much for the happy weekend.
Prayer vigils starting now.
Mrs. Popping Culture took Elwood the cat back to the vet. He has liver damage. They are keeping him over the weekend to see if they can do anything for him.
Mrs. Popping Culture didn't tell me too much but she was sad. She brought Elwood back home so I could see him before returning him to the veterinarian's office.
I guess there's no good time for something like this, but I have to point out that certain irony. After all, we are waiting on tests to see if I'm going to live or die.
The veterinarian said it might cost about $300 - $400, which of course we don't have, but you have to try. If cancer has taught me anything, it's that you have to try. You don't give up on anything. Let cancer or liver damage take things from you if they are going to, but you don't give up no matter what it costs and no matter if you end up eating ravioli from a can. The last several months have locked me in a "don't give an inch" mentality, so I'd probably find a way even if it cost $4,000.
Anyway, I just got the news. Elwood just left the house to go back. I'm not sure whether I'm going to cry or start breaking things. Suddenly Mexican food isn't as high of a priority.
Elwood is a good cat.
Posted by Dan at 04:00 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
Speaking of Mexican food.
An extra credit burrito shut down a Mexican school. True story.
A student prepared a 30-inch burrito, apparently for some kind of extra credit project (I can only imagine what class this was for), and wrapped it in a white t-shirt to keep it warm.
You guessed it! A "concerned citizen" saw the kid haul the burrito to school and reported it as a "suspiciously concealed item."
In the words of the story, "Police were called. The school was locked down. Adjacent streets were closed and law officers were perched on roofs with weapons."
It all got settled pretty quickly, but we are left with some great quotes:
“The kid was sitting there as I’m describing this (citizen report of a student with a suspicious package) and he’s thinking, ‘Oh, my gosh, they’re talking about my burrito.’”
“We’ve trained for incidents just like this — the training just kicked in,” said Sgt. Jim Schoeffel of the Clovis Police Department. [What type of training exactly goes into burrito scare preparation?]
And this gem just caps it off...
Russell said “98 percent” of the parents were understanding and supportive of school officials, but “we had a handful that were very verbal and one had to be escorted away by police.”
Full story here, via Obscure Store.
Posted by Dan at 11:56 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Update: Good News and Bad News
I have good news and bad news, and they are both the same news.
The doctor called. My CATscan is scheduled for Tuesday morning. This is bad in the sense that it will be a while before we find out if the new chemotherapy has made any difference. It is also bad because of the yucky contrast you have to drink before the scan. Tastes like chalk.
The good news is I get a weekend off. I'm getting a little strength back and if I can stay healthy it might be nice to feel good for a couple three days for a change.
So this update is a mixed bag. I know we're all anxious about these next test results, but here we are with a free weekend. We might as well enjoy it. I, for one, plan on eating Mexican food.
Posted by Dan at 11:49 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Something to think about while we wait for the doctor to call.
Posted by Dan at 09:22 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Popping Culture Legal Tip of the Day
If you are arrested and sent to jail, and you send a letter to the judge asking for leniency, make sure the envelope doesn't contain any leaves of marijuana. The legal system tends to frown on that sort of thing.
Posted by Dan at 08:45 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 28, 2005
American Idol scandal du jour.
I don't know why I care about these things.
Bo Bice was arrested twice in the past four years on drug charges! Neat.
Posted by Dan at 09:08 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
I actually said this to someone today.
"Other than sometimes being unable to breathe, I feel pretty good."
Posted by Dan at 05:19 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Rock on.
Posted by Dan at 05:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Update
Well, we've finished off two more three-week rounds of chemotherapy and now it's time to see if it made a difference.
My oncologist is scheduling a CATscan even as you read. I should be able to get in and get scanned in the next day or two. This is an important scan, since we're running out of options if this brand of chemo didn't work.
I'll let you know when the scan is and what the results are as soon as I know something. In the meantime, I could use all the prayer/good karma/happy thoughts/large cash settlements you can send my way. I've been having a little trouble breathing lately. Once or twice a day I have to conciously breathe in and out, which is troubling. Sometimes when I wake up at night I'm making an eerie rasping noise from somewhere in my lungs.
Still, it reminds me I'm alive, and it certainly beats the alternative, which is not breathing at all. Nyquil and Dayquil help the breathing, so maybe I just picked up a little bug.
Posted by Dan at 09:16 AM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
Popping Culture Healthwatch Tip of the Day
If you see Darion Barker, don't ask him to move his truck.
That is, unless you can take 50,000 volts.
Via Obscure Store.
Posted by Dan at 09:09 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Minneapolis police chief proposes requiring beggars to be licensed.
Begging without a government license would lead to a fine and jail time. Neat.
No word yet on when the construction of the concentration camps will begin.
Posted by Dan at 12:19 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 27, 2005
Time to show off your creativity.
I am enamored of the exploding German toads story below.
Here's where I need your help. Imagine that the Fox network got the rights to tell the story in a dramatic 2-hour movie. What would the title be and who would star?
My idea:
Ribbit! Terror in Hamburg! (or) When Toads Attack!
Either way it has to star Hasselhoff.
Posted by Dan at 09:16 PM | Comments (11) | TrackBack
It could be a sign.
Posted by Dan at 03:34 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
I LOVE this headline.
"Exploding Toads Puzzle German Scientists."
I don't even want to read the story that follows, I'm so taken by the possibilities of that headline.
The story is here, by the way.
UPDATE: Ok, I read the first paragraph, and it's a dream come true:
More than 1,000 toads have puffed up and exploded in a Hamburg pond in recent weeks, and scientists still have no explanation for what's causing the combustion, an official said Wednesday.
I love this story! I'm going to read it in small doses, so don't ruin it for me.
Posted by Dan at 03:19 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
What a night to be a Yankee.
A-Rod rang up ten (yes, ten) RBI in the game by his lonesome, and the Rebels don't like it one bit.
By contrast, the Evil Empire is lapping it up. 10 RBI, 3 Homers, one grand slam. That's a great week for some players. Of course, those other players don't make 25 million.
Still, the Yankees continue to contend for basement status in the division. And the beat goes on.
As a Blue Jays fan, it's gonna be a long summer. The Jays are actually a decent team this year, but they're stuck in the division with big spenders NY and Boston, along with a resurgent Orioles team. Long, long summer.
Posted by Dan at 05:32 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
April 26, 2005
It's the end of the world as we know it, and I'm not sure how to feel.
Sign of impending apocalypse #314:
You can now get a Clay Aiken credit card. Gain points redeemable, I presume, for testosterone treatments.
Posted by Dan at 03:45 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Visual to go with the updates: this is Elwood the cat.
Posted by Dan at 12:33 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Update: tests coming!
Elwood seems the same so far today.
Tomorrow, I meet with the oncologist for a standard check-up following chemotherapy. This is when we'll schedule CAT scans to check out our progress. Tests will probably take place Friday or Saturday and I'll let you know as soon as I know anything.
I wish I had more of an update for you. Other than that, I'm just a bit wiped out today and anticipate napping much of the afternoon away.
Posted by Dan at 12:27 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Motivation trouble!
I am DRAGGING today. Maybe I didn't get enough sleep.
Maybe I've been at the keyboard too long or maybe weeks of the same crazy routines are finally catching up to me.
Bah, I'm probably imagining it.
Posted by Dan at 12:17 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 25, 2005
Remember, it could always be worse.
Posted by Dan at 07:05 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Update on cat and owner.
Elwood the cat ate some soft food today. Not a lot, but some.
Also, he apparently peed A LOT, this for the first time in at least a couple days. Mrs. Popping Culture reported to me that he peed all over the corner of one of the bedrooms. She takes this as a good sign and seemed pleased.
Given her reaction, I am considering wetting the bed.
I may have turned the corner on the joint pain (I can actually get out of the bed now), but I'm still very sore and stiff. Still, maybe by tomorrow I'll be able to count myself once more among the living.
The trick is just to keep going. It passes, it returns, it passes. Such is life.
Posted by Dan at 06:58 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
Please don't, Matt.
Matt Groening is quoted here reflecting on The Simpsons 350th episode.
He said, "I think the show has almost reached its halfway point, which means another 17 years."
Maybe he's joking, maybe he just means they have a season or two left. Comments?
Posted by Dan at 03:51 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Elwood the cat
When I first started getting sick in earnest, say around January (we knew I had cancer late in November but treatment didn't begin for a month or so), I remember saying a few times that I just hoped nothing happened with the pets while I was sick. Mrs. Popping Culture had enough to worry about.
Well, even though I'm in the rough day of joint pain and shall probably spend all day in bed and in various degrees of pain all day, I am thinking about Elwood the cat.
Elwood is sick. For about four days he hasn't moved. He barely eats and he hasn't gone to the bathroom from what we can tell. We know he has leukemia, which has previously been dormant. The vet gave him some antibiotics on Friday, but no response so far.
He just stays on the floor and doesn't move. Sometimes he mewls. And there I am in the bed, not able to do anything.
Elwood was one of two pets that were ever JUST mine. I grew up on a sort of mini-farm and we always had horses and a cow and dogs and cats and birds and fish of various sorts. They were family pets.
I left home after high school but came back shortly after during my first bout with cancer. Finally, I was well enough to get moving again and I took a job with a local church as their Minister to Youth. I lived alone next door to the church in the parsonage.
These were the years I was courting the woman who is now Mrs. Popping Culture and it became clear to me in short order that I wanted to spend my life with her. This meant that if I ever wanted any pets that were JUST mine, the time to strike had come, before I could do anything silly like propose marriage.
I went to the pet store and bought two identical tiny black kittens, Jake and Elwood. When I bought them, they could both fit in the palm of one of my hands. Now, in my condition, I can hardly lift Elwood, he's gotten so big (thanks to Iams cat food!). Not overweight, just big, with a beautiful black coat. Jake has since passed (in another sad story) from pneumonia, and now we have a replacement cat, Polly, who has been with us for years as well as Roxy the dog.
Still, I feel a special connection with Elwood because I redeemed him from the pet store and for a few months he was mine alone. I'm probably being over-dramatic because every joint in my body, literally, hurts as I type this, including my fingers.
But it's easy to deal with my own pain. All I have to do is suffer. Just get through each day. I can handle my own pain. But the suffering of children and animals is intolerable to me. This is a bad time for all of this.
Elwood doesn't seem to be suffering great pain, but you can't really tell with pets. They can't tell you where it hurts, and it is clear he isn't comfortable.
I keep thinking that if the leukemia has caught up with him at last, and something needs to happen to put him out of suffering, I won't even be there to say goodbye at the vets. I'll be home in bed.
Cancer is a jerk.
So, that's what I'm thinking about today.
Posted by Dan at 10:11 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
April 24, 2005
Eye Candy
Angel from Above
by Hua Chen
Only in a dream can one visualize the images of serenity, music and beauty illustrated in the works of Hua Chen. The heavenly women featured in Chen's luminous paintings exist in a mystical world. Using distinctive shades of pastel colors, the artist invites you into his own imaginary world filled with ageless beauty.
Hua Chen was born in 1952 in Shanghai, People's Republic of China. Between the years of 1973 and 1976, Chen earned a Bachelors Degree of Fine Art from the Anhui Teacher's University, Anhui, China. He then went on to attain a Master of Fine Art Degree in sketching, watercolor and oil painting from the Central Institute of the Fine Arts in Beijing, China. Chen has earned several titles and awards including Chairman of Anhui Oil Painting Research Association in China and is member of the Artists Association of China.
After relocating to the United States in the late 1990’s, Chen’s work became well recognized in the United States, resulting in his work being displayed in the national directory, "Artists of Chinese Origin in North America." His one-man shows have been exhibited in Japan, Hawaii, China and the United States.
Biographical information from Addison Gallery.
Posted by Dan at 03:10 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
In which the author reveals certain horrors about his taste in music.
Loggins and Messina are touring again after nearly 30 years apart, and I'm excited. I don't know if they'll come within striking distance of where I live or if I'll even be healthy enough to consider it, but in my world, Loggins and Messina re-uniting is a big deal.
Go ahead, let me have it. I am a proud Kenny Loggins fan. I LOVE Return to Pooh Corner and Conviction of the Heart. Together, they did Your Momma Don't Dance, which is one of those songs nobody lists as a favorite, but everybody knows.
So the truth is out. While we're here I should admit as well that I own four Enya CDs and my favorite musician of all time is James Taylor. James Taylor transcends other music in my mind and so I rarely list him in musical discussions. He's just above it - the consumate songwriter/storyteller.
Most folks you meet these days who know JT lump him in there with Kenny Loggins anyway, so I guess it's no great additional confession.
Yes, I am the oldest 36-year-old you ever met. Mrs. Popping Culture is barely out of her 20s and still listens to alternative music, which I in my dotage refer to as "alternative TO music." She likes Beck and U2 and Franz Ferdinand and Gwen Steffani. She's all cool and stuff, my wife. She has an MP3 player. I can usually work the CD machine if the PLAY button is clearly marked.
I remember being burned openly and publically while watching South Park one night and the South Park Planetarium, in an effort to make a joke at how boring the planetarium is, had a "Laser Kenny Loggins and Laser James Taylor" show to bore and horrify the kids.
Still, those are my two favorites and I can't change who I am. Be kind in comments.
Of course, I'm also a fan of Tori Amos and John Meyer (who, frankly, is JT in the 2000s) as well, but I doubt that can save me after this.
Posted by Dan at 02:41 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
Sunday ponderable.
Posted by Dan at 02:04 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 23, 2005
If I could just set this up in front of the toilet, I'd be set.
Posted by Dan at 09:19 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
A sort-of cancer reflection, I think.
I first posted this way back on January 11. I didn't know the connection then, and I don't know the connection now, but for some reason tonight this post forced itself into my head again. I re-post if for you now. Maybe you can make connections.
Some things stay.
When I was a kid, maybe 8 or 9, I took a hammer from my father's tools. I wasn't supposed to touch it but I took it anyway and went out into the neighborhood with it one Saturday morning.
I don't think it was a sin, mind you. I am a firm believer in the idea that a little mischief is necessary for a kid to grow up healthy. You can spot the kids that didn't get into any mischief pretty easily once they've grown to be adults.
That is beside the point.
I took the hammer and found a pile of rubbish. The men with trucks and bulldozers were building a new housing development not far from the development I lived in and, of course, they were off on Saturday.
So I hit whatever trash I could find with the hammer. Just to see what would happen, I guess.
On one particular swing, I missed badly whatever I was swinging at. The hammer carried through and I, not able to control its weight, hit myself in the shin, hard.
My leg was bleeding and pressure didn't make it stop. So I went home.
When it healed, there was a little crater-shaped indention in my leg that remains to this day. For some reason, tonight I was thinking about cancer, and some of the stories from my own life, and I found myself subconciously running my finger over that indention.
I don't know why I feel compelled to write this, or why I think it belongs with the cancer posts, but I do and it does.
Posted by Dan at 09:15 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
No blogging for two hours.
It's afternoon naptime.
Posted by Dan at 03:15 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Reflection
I borrow this from Norman Cousins, written in his Anatomy of an Illness:
"My first experience in coping with a bleak medical diagnosis came at the age of ten, when I was sent to a tuberculosis sanitarium. I was terribly frail and underweight, and it seemed logical to suppose I was in the grip of a serious malady. Later it was discovered that the doctors had mistakenly interpreted normal calcification as TB markings. X-rays at the time were not yet a totally reliable basis for complex diagnosis. In any case, I spent six months at the sanitarium.
"What was most interesting to me about that early experience was that patients divided themselves into two groups: those who were confident they would beat back the disease and be able to resume normal lives, and those who resigned themselves to a prolonged and even fatal illness. Those of us who held to the optimistic view became good friends, involved ourselves in creative activities, and had little to do with the patients who had resigned themselves to the worst. When newcomers arrived at the hospital, we did our best to recruit them before the bleak brigade went to work.
"I couldn't help being impressed with the fact that the boys in my group had a far higher percentage of 'discharged as cured' outcomes than the kids in the other group. Even at the age of ten, I was being philosophically conditioned; I became aware of the power of the mind in overcoming disease. The lessons I learned about hope at that time played an important part in my complete recovery and in the feelings I have had since about the preciousness of life."
Some days (like today, when the three-day trial of untouchable joint pain has begun) it's hard to keep away from the bleak brigade, but I'm trying. It's worth the effort, and a few days in bed with pain don't compare to a chart marked "discharged as cured."
Posted by Dan at 12:54 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
This is the culture you live in: time for Saturday's dose of reality.
Jeff Foxworthy the best-selling comedy recording artist of all time. Really.
Posted by Dan at 08:42 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 22, 2005
On when not to play it where it lies.
Here's a good time to take a penalty stroke:
Key quote:
When Parris saw where the ball landed, he wasn't tempted to remove it from the gator's tail. He put down a new ball and, in compliance with course rules, wasn't penalized a stroke for the drop.
Story here. Via The Obscure Store.
Posted by Dan at 07:43 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
And now the minor bad news.
Apparently I missed Tori Amos on the Tonight Show last night. Tori is my favorite.
You folks have to tell me about these things.
Posted by Dan at 03:51 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Brain Candy
Afternoon naps are the hidden graces of cancer. Except on those days like the ones I expect starting tomorrow, the three days or so of joint pain, I am usually able to get in a decent afternoon nap. The only pleasant dreams I have any more come when I am able to get deep enough into an afternoon nap, but generally the dog barking or some other distraction means they are just restful daydreaming times. In any case, the afternoon nap is the best and occasionally only good part of my day.
And so I offer this bit of poetry/creative prose for today's brain candy:
Afternoon Nap
It is like finding a hole in the universe. A door nobody else knows about. You swing it open and crawl through into the streets of a small town. You pass the barbershop. The pharmacy. The bank. The grocery. Maybe a row of grain elevators on the edge of town. All the houses are white. People are sitting out on their porches as if they've been expecting you. They wave and say a few words. Some ask you to come up and visit for a time. They want to know what you were doing before you fell asleep and what you plan on doing when you wake up. They're fascinated by it all. Sleep is the sole religion of this town. Icons of their reclining saints are everywhere. On Sundays even the infirm gather their pillows and blankets and walk to church to lie down on the pews and worship their great and slumbering god. It's such a pleasant place, you almost hate to leave.
David Shumate
Posted by Dan at 03:41 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Reminder: scrolling not required.
I got another email from a dear concerned citizen who sometimes doesn't want to hear about the American Idol rumor-du-jour (if you can imagine) and just wants to keep up with my health.
There is a list of topics in the right sidebar. Simply click on the top topic, "cancer," and you'll be taken to a list of all the cancer-related posts, starting with the most recent.
Posted by Dan at 09:11 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Oh, good... yet another Paula Abdul controversy.
An ex-contestant is claiming he had sex with Abdul in the guest room of her house, that she paid some of his expenses and promised to fund his career to the tune of $2 million. When is this season gonna end?
American Idol: Cloying to watch, but a gift to pop culture bloggers. This season alone we've had three Paula scandals (I'm counting the hit-and-run charges), a top-twelve contestant drop out, and domestic charges against Scott Savol. Neat.
Posted by Dan at 09:07 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Those Vancouver police are right on top of safety issues.
Here's the headline: "Police caution against lying in the road."
And since it's short, here's the whole story, in case you're too lazy to click:
VANCOUVER: Police in a Vancouver suburb have issued an unusual warning to drivers: If you run out of fuel, do not lay down on the road to get assistance.
Police were alerted to a man's body laying along the Trans Canada Highway in the predawn darkness only to discover he was "quite alive", but that his car had run out of gas and he "wanted to attract someone's attention".
"Guess it worked, but police don't really recommend this method," the Royal Canadian Mounted Police in Burnaby, British Columbia, said in a press release.
The man's car was towed, but no charges were filed.
Link via Dave.
Posted by Dan at 08:55 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
This might be worth a look when released.
Cable network A&E is working on a two-hour documentary discussing the friendly and occasionally competitive relationship between directors Steven Spielberg and George Lucas. Maybe you've heard of them. Info here.
Posted by Dan at 08:25 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Clumsy cop on can caps commoner.
I thought of that headline myself to go with this story of a San Antonio cop who dropped his gun while in a men's room stall, causing it to go off twice, hitting a man who was washing his hands in the leg. Internal affairs is investigating.
I bet they'll prefer my headline.
Posted by Dan at 08:08 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 21, 2005
Paula Abdul claims she is not on drugs; says her behavior is the result of a rare neurological disorder.
Oh, really, Paula? Then explain that video with the cartoon cat.
Posted by Dan at 09:15 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
From Popping Culture's "Guess the Chinese Dish" desk.
First one to name this popular Chinese delicacy gets, well, nothing - except maybe a craving for supper. And you'll be hungry again in half an hour anyway.
Posted by Dan at 03:08 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Baby Bob TALKING E-Postcards!
You LOVE Baby Bob and you don't even know it.
Baby Bob is that talking baby on the Quiznos commercials. Now, you can send your friends a Baby Bob Talking Postcard by clicking here.
Posted by Dan at 01:06 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
April 20, 2005
What kind of American English do you speak?
Find out here. I was interested in this because my formative years were spent at the top of a mountain in upstate NY, my teens and early twenties in Hampton Roads, Virginia, then a stint in Louisville and now in Youngstown, OH. My results:
Your Linguistic Profile:
55% General American English
25% Yankee
15% Dixie
5% Upper Midwestern
0% Midwestern
UPDATE: While there, I also took their "How Long Will You Live?" test. Turns out, I'm good to 82 years old! Suck on that, cancer! Of course, I had to leave the "Do you have a series of aggressive, metastisized tumors growing in and near your lungs right now, on which no form of treatment has made a decent impact?" question blank.
Posted by Dan at 10:45 PM | Comments (10) | TrackBack
Let me tell you why I'm re-posting this picture.
I'm re-posting it, not only because it's a cool picture and shows great imagination, but also because I thought....
What if we tried again, using THIS cat:
Posted by Dan at 09:57 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Update (under the influence of chemo drugs, so hold on)
Maybe it's more of a reflection.
My struggle is that I'm not sure what I'm hoping for right now. Chemotherapy (which is not quite over yet, but I feel a little functional and this is in my head and I want to get it out) was its typical horrific self today, with two special additions.
One was sudden nausea, like running into a wall unexpectedly. It's like when you cough suddenly and didn't feel it coming on, except that it's the most horribly productive cough in your life. Worse, if you haven't kept nibbling all day, it might be non-productive.
The other was that, unexpectedly, everything got loud. It was as if you were listening to headphones at level 3 and someone turned them up to 10 (or 11 for Spinal Tap fans). My dog was three rooms away, and her squeaky toy sounded like a megaphone going off INSIDE MY HEAD. Then it would just go away. I would have asked Roxy (the dog, name short for Rock Star, which is in turn short for Punk Rock Star) to stop squeaking, but I doubt she would have understood. What could I expect from someone who has worms in her poop? (NOTE: yes, Mrs. Popping Culture is taking her to the vet tomorrow. We thought the chemotherapy ranked higher on the priorities list today.)
Tomorrow, I get the shot that increases white cell production and causes about three days of constant, debilitating joint agony.
I say all that to say this. My life sucks on chemo days and the days after, and I don't mean that in a hum-de-dum having-a-bad-day sense. I mean that in the "how much more of this can I take before I give up" sense.
Granted, this is coming on the day of the pain, and with a week, my spirits will rise as my health rises.
Still, I look ahead to the scans and there are three possibilities:
1 - No change and we go back to the previous type of chemo,
2 - No change and we are done. I feel better for a few months, then start the dying process.
3 - The chemo works and the tumors have started to shrink.
Option One is not good. That chemo tore me up in what I believe are permanent ways. There was clear evidence of direct damage to my bladder or kidneys. I don't want to do it and I might not have a choice.
Option two sounds nice on painful days (A few to several months of feeling strong and good sound wonderful. I don't remember the last time I woke up and felt GOOD.) but then there's the slow painful death thing.
Option three sounds wonderful. The chemo is working! Huzzah! It's naive and silly to expect that it cured me in just two treatments, but I'm allowed, as a Baptist Pastor, to expect a miracle. The problem is that likely this option means more days like today. Today sucks. Cancer is a jerk. Given the option today, I would go to Hawaii with my wife, make love on the beach and eat lobster for a few months and see what happens. This is why we don't make decisions anywhere near chemo days.
Still, tonight I will say my prayers. I don't know what I'm rooting for here, other than "Nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done."
Keyword: fear.
Theme of the message: not even pastors have answers sometimes.
Closing: We all have work to do. This is the work I must do and if it continues, I will do it no matter how much it hurts, even unto death. This is the work I must do right now, and fear is just fine and natural as long as I don't let it keep me from my work, yes?
Homework: Get the hell out of bed tomorrow. Don't worry about the next day. Do whatever it takes to live in the day you're in.
Posted by Dan at 07:56 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack
Can you stump the Subservient Chicken?
Just type in a command, and the chicken does it.
Thanks to Kimm for the link.
Posted by Dan at 07:40 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack
April 19, 2005
More Brain Candy
Because I feel like something light and hopeful:
The Moon
You can take the moon by the spoonful
or in capsules every two hours.
It's useful as a hypnotic and sedative
and besides it relieves
those who have had too much philosophy.
A piece of moon in your purse
works better than a rabbit's foot.
Helps you find a lover
or get rich without anyone knowing,
and it staves off doctors and clinics.
You can give it to children like candy
when they've not gone to sleep,
and a few drops of moon in the eyes of the old
helps them to die in peace.
Put a new leaf of moon
under your pillow
and you'll see what you want to.
Always carry a little bottle of air of the moon
to keep you from drowning.
Give the key to the moon
to prisoners and the disappointed.
For those who are sentenced to death
and for those who are sentenced to life
there is no better tonic than the moon
in precise and regular doses.
Jaime Sabines
-- Poemas sueltos, 1981
translated by W. S. Merwin
Posted by Dan at 08:43 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
Brain candy
My mother-in-law cared for her husband every day while he was dying of cancer.
The trick now (and I'm doing all I can) is to keep her daughter from doing the same thing. This poem reminded me of my mother-in-law, or at least some of what she must have gone through.
Parting Drapes
How did you survive the frost
knowing the book would close,
music would stop, a pulse would quit,
and you would be left in a room
surrounded by empty chairs?
Six long months with death for drapes
your hands were always drawing them.
Back and forth, the steel screeched
as if it were an oil rig
plumbing a desert for hope.
You messed with even valances,
tugging at puffs as if this skirt
could ever hang over the going bone.
Inviting in the hiding sun,
blue batiks of fading skies
becomes commitment's old career.
You sign forever in the sand;
someone kicks it in your eyes.
All palms are idle in the end,
tortilla husks that speak
of curdled, passing meals.
Little scraps of ivory moons
bequeathed to soil, then covered up.
Rage drops anchors in the mud
and dying sails the fitful sea,
testing every rope we own.
You kept his college photograph
in every room you wandered through
touched the glass as if to print it with a wish.
Fed him ice chips, spoons of yogurt,
watched the drips deliver fluid to the sand,
packed his watch and wedding ring
took it home and stored it there
where every clock had lost its dial.
Adoring him was not a chore
even when his face was ash.
- Janet Buck
Posted by Dan at 08:37 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack
Chemotherapy Wednesday, so I'll be blogging late, if at all. In the mean time, try and make sense of this:
Posted by Dan at 08:27 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Someone please explain this to me.
How could you possibly justify giving a written reprimand to a high school teacher, when all he did was offer extra credit to students who observed "Get Naked Day" in his classroom?
Oh, wait. I think I know.
Posted by Dan at 08:12 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Quote of the day.
"A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are built for."
- Grace Murray Hopper
Posted by Dan at 01:14 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
Christening pictures are back from the half-hour photo place!
Coco Arquette is officially whatever you become when you are christened. Word from Gawker is that baby Coco remained surprisingly crispy, even after being dunked in the baptismal font!
Posted by Dan at 08:10 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
Reason to Live #34
Monday Night Football is moving to ESPN in 2006. Maybe we'll finally get some announcers.
It cost ESPN $1.1 billion a year over eight years to nab the Monday classic.
Al Michaels and John Madden are fine announcers, but are getting up there and Madden, while still being my all-time favorite, feels like he's mailing it in sometimes.
In addition, NBC is back in the football market, grabbing the Sunday night games.
Posted by Dan at 07:58 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 18, 2005
Popping Cancer Update: Officially worried now, heading quickly toward scared.
I'm going to bed now (9:40 p.m. Monday night). Tomorrow is Tuesday. Wednesday is the last chemotherapy treatment of this cycle. Next week I get scans done.
These scans aren't like the other ones. If these don't show some progress against these stupid tumors, there aren't any good options left on the table. What we really, really need is for next week's scans to show some tumor shrinkage or we're in rather a large bit of trouble.
It's funny how easy it has been to feel miserable during chemotherapy, telling myself I'm getting better. It's not long now until we find out for sure.
I guess we all walk a thin line between living and dying every day, but, my goodness, my thin line comes with dates attached now.
So, I'm a little concerned to hear the results of next week's scans. It's funny, but I don't think I'm scared to die (or, what can be a bigger fear for some, scared to live). I think I'm scared of the unknown. Give me something to fight against and I'll be ok. Just don't leave me alone without knowing what's going on.
Cancer is a jerk.
Posted by Dan at 09:39 PM | Comments (6) | TrackBack
Whoa... a movie with Dustin Hoffman AND Warren Beatty? This flick is gonna rock!
Ad via Defamer.
Posted by Dan at 04:29 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack
Well, we know how safe it is in a crash, anyway. Make that crashes.
An 81-year-old woman who was shopping for a car got behind the wheel of a brand new Honda Accord and "apparently stepped on the wrong pedal." The car "shot backward," hitting her husband, a salesman, a car and a tree before running into a wall.
Quote we could have figured out for ourselves:
"She must have panicked," said Joe Sica, sales manager at Honda of Fort Myers.
Posted by Dan at 01:59 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Reason to live #217
Sam's Club sells a 5-pound Hershey bar.
Posted by Dan at 01:52 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
Music to make your ears bleed. Bette Davis! William Shatner!
I just polished off this book:
It's called Hollywood Hi-Fi and describes "over 100 of the most outrageous celebrity recordings ever." There is a sad trend in Hollywood that makes film stars suddenly go nuts and think they can sing. What we have in Hollywood Hi-Fi is a collection of stars who were at the height of their popularity (and arrogance, no doubt) and looked to cash in by cutting an album, completely ignoring the important fact that they had no actual singing skills.
I should have suspected something when the book was given to me by a Professor of Church History.
This collection of truly regrettable recordings includes descriptions of albums cut by Marlon Brando, Walter Matthau, Sylvester Stallone, Telly Savalas, Buddy Hackett (yes!), Boris Karloff, Clint Eastwood, President John F. Kennedy, Fabio and Hugh Downs.
The authors, however, save their most blistering reviews for two stars of horrific sound recording: William Shatner and Bette Davis.
Long-time Popping Culture readers will remember a contest held here once where points were awarded for sitting through the video of Shatner reading/singing/performing/defacing Elton John's "Rocket Man." Sadly, the link no longer works and I can only find audio links. The mind-scrambling effect is lost if you can SEE Shatner split into three Shatners and demolish the timeless classic in stereo.
The beauty of Hollywood Hi-Fi is in it's descriptions of bad singing, so let me treat you to the high points from the chapters on Shatner and Davis:
On Shatner's "The Transformed Man":
"'The Transformed Man' is an ego trip of intergalactic dimensions."
"'MR. TAMBOURINE MAAAAAAN!!!' he bellows, in the identical line reading he used for his famous riposte from Star Trek II: 'KHAAAAAAN!!!'"
"For all of Shatner's self-proclaimed versatility, every cut follows the same pattern: he begins in a groggy, halting delivery, as if he'd just swallowed a whole bottle of Nytol... then gradually works up a head of steam, until at last, he's howling his lines at a volume that could raise an echo on the moon."
"We must give our coveted Hubris Award to the duo 'Hamlet'/'It Was A Very Good Year,' in which Shatner pummels both the greatest soliloquy in the English language (Shakespeare's 'To... Be... Or! Not!... TO BEEEE!') and a signature song of the greatest pop singer of the twentieth century, Frank Sinatra."
As bad as all that sounds, the authors take a special delight in the musical mis-stylings of Bette Davis. I hesitate to even try and imagine what her singing voice must sound like on "Two's Company," the album that garners the most abuse, but it must be truly horrific because the critics just wipe the floor with Davis over three full pages, more than any other "singer" earns.
Some excerpts from their review of Bette Davis as a songstress:
"Bette Davis was a glorious combination of everything we look for in an artist: a famous name in a field completely unrelated to music, an astonishingly awful singing voice, a weakness for tackling the most outlandishly inappropriate material, and the type of elephantine Hollywood ego that made her truly believe she could do anything and woe to any peon who told her otherwise."
"It's called 'Life Is A Lonely Thing' and you will be, too, if you play it for your friends."
"She declared, 'They haven't had a hit in a long time, and if they could have done "Charlotte" with me, it would have been the biggest hit IN THE WORLD!' Bette Davis always insisted that her bizarre singles would be massive hits, although none ever were. To find out why, pick up the compilation LP 'Bette Davis Sings.' It is highly recommended for Davis fans, drag queens, or anyone who is seeking a nonchemical way to peel paint."
"Ignoring her many advisors' warnings, Bette agreed to do it because she hoped to show the world she had talents beyond being the grande dame of cinematic bitchery: 'The New Bette Davis! She yodels! She jumps about to music!'"
"Vernon Duke later said of his beloved ingenue, 'Bette had four notes to her voice, all of them bad,' and he wasn't kidding."
"One critic claimed that Bette in her Sadie getup reminded him of a female impersonator."
"Critic Walter Kerr assessed Bette's musical debut quite succinctly when he wrote, 'It's a lot like listening to Beethoven's Fifth played on a pocket comb. You marvel that it can be done at all. And five minutes is about enough of it.'"
"According to biographer James Spada, during one rehearsal, her understudy tried to compliment her by saying that she had done a song 'just like Rex Harrison,' and Bette snapped, 'Don't be silly! Rex Harrison can't sing!' She also couldn't remember her lines or lyrics, at one performance turning to the orchestra leader in mid-song and demanding, 'Where the hell am I?'"
Pure gold. And I've only been able to give you the very tip of the iceberg.
My only complaint about this collection/coffee table book/discussion starter (may God have mercy on your soul if you use it as a reference book), is that I can't actually HEAR some of these dismal tunes. They paint such an ugly picture that it's a shame not to be able to actually listen along.
Posted by Dan at 09:04 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
April 17, 2005
Eye Candy
The Son of Man
by Rene Magritte
"The Son of Man" came about from a friend’s request for a self-portrait of Rene Magritte whose comment on it was that, “Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see.”
Posted by Dan at 10:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
I've finally found my calling.
Jimmy Kimmel is looking for one more staffer to watch TV all day and gather humorous clips for his opening monologue each night.
I'm virtually doing this already, thanks to the cancer bug.
The job pays "about $500 or $600 a week," which is more than disability from a church job. A lot more. Still, I'd probably have to relocate. Also, I presume the job only lasts as long as the show itself.
Posted by Dan at 10:18 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
I hate to interrupt your Sunday...
...but I just got a great idea for a crime drama.
Posted by Dan at 12:19 PM | Comments (9) | TrackBack
April 16, 2005
Feeling grim?
Rideaccidents.com bills itself as "the world's single most comprehensive, detailed, updated, accurate, and complete source of amusement ride accident reports and related news."
Via Boing Boing.
Posted by Dan at 09:27 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
Popping Cancer Update: Eye of the beholder.
I got a DVD in the mail a few days ago from the school I attend, Colegate Rochester Crozer Divinity School. My head finally cleared enough from chemotherapy to feel like I could watch it sensibly.
It was full of greetings from students, staff and faculty and was a very touching idea for a gift, especially since I have been so far away from school for so long. None of the people on the DVD seemed to want me to die from cancer, which was nice.
I was struck, however, or maybe reminded, that at CRCDS I am viewed by many of the citizenry as a sort of conservative fundamentalist type.
This always tickles me, sinc