Between Scenes

Nothing is happening to me right now. It's been four weeks since my surgery and I've healed just fine, no infections. I'm waiting to start radiation.

We took a vacation from this again, just Roland and me. We went to San Francisco. We ate at Cafe Zoetrope in North Beach, went to wine country in the Russian River Valley, met up with friends at a burger joint on the Embarcadero, and visited Alcatraz. This is me on a hilltop in the Russian River Valley. It is insanely beautiful there. Boy, you have to be stubborn to be a winemaker, is all I can say. The other photo is a posted sign at Alcatraz, obviously.

They try to feed you this crap about Alcatraz not being such a bad prison, just a cold and boring place to be. Why, there were even families living on the island, and they had Christmas caroling and gardens, and everything. All the cells and stuff are on the second floor of the building, which means there is a basement/ground floor that the public doesn't see. I bet that was nice, too, back in the day. Still, it was kind of strange how the Western sun streamed in pleasantly through the barred windows.

We also saw Spoon at the Fillmore. They gave a good show of old and new favorites, plus a couple covers.

In Dreams

Some people who know me know that I've always had a bone to pick with That Big Sports Celebrity Who Is Also A Cancer Patient. My spouse argues there is no backlash to foment against this guy, so my bumpersticker ideas ("I'm 6ick of [him]"; "7 is enough already") won't go anywhere.

Celebrity, upon retirement from his sport, declared he would work tirelessly to bring awareness to the problem of cancer and offer support to those affected. When I looked for support for my young child, I did find some help from an agency that is funded by Celebrity's foundation. Yay, he really does do something, right? But the main agency where I get support for myself doesn't receive a dime from Celebrity, even though someone he once cared about is affected by breast cancer.

Whatever.

One of my recurring dreams is, I am working in a restaurant. (I waited tables for 5 years.) Last week I had this dream again, and believe it or don't, Celebrity was in it. He was a waiter, along with me. He was stacking plates and folding napkins and shuffling menus. We knew we had cancer in common and that our current work was a good service to others (see how the unconscious mind loves wordplay?).

So I find it interesting that Celebrity's out-of-retirement announcement hinges on his desire to uh, something about shouldering the burden of cancer. This just rings as disingenuous to me. Why not be truthful? He loves being loved for the thing we loved seeing him love. Dating the Rock Star, the Preppy Fashion Designer, and the Semi-Talented Waif Actress got boring. There were rumors about him seeking high, statewide office, but I just couldn't see him in a suit, sitting in a meeting about the State Preservation Board with the delegation from East Texas. Those political people are too boring and unsophisticated for him and the job itself is a drag.

I suppose it's possible to be completely self-aggrandizing and yet doing good for others. But I don't buy it that the first seven times were for just himself, but this next time is for the Cancer Nation.