does the sun wear nikes?

i grew up addicted to poetry. it just stayed in my head and wouldn't leave.

it's not impressive when trying out for the tennis team to leap into a shakespeare sonnet, and romancing someone with the lovesong of j. alfred prufrock is not as effective as strong alcohol (something about the evening stretched out against the sky like a patient etherized upon a table might be the problem).

but the good thing is that i can usually find some inspiration for most any situation. even when i don't know exactly what the situation is.

i have a ct scan scheduled for tomorrow. meet the doctor on wednesday. discuss sigmoidoscopy. that will determine if there is a recommendation for immediate surgery (good news) or chemo and radiation (the equivalent of hitting your drive out of bounds on a par 3).

i am not expecting that we will be featuring dylan thomas doing "do not go gentle into that good night" at anytime soon on this website. but even robert frost had to debate whether the world would end in fire or ice.

so i will come back to one line of poetry that seems to give me proper perspective and motivation at the same time.

"if we cannot make our sun stand still, least we shall make him run."

that philosophy just seems right to me. i love a good challenge. i'm active and still running and playing tennis pretty much every day. no change in appearance or attitude. no symptoms of any kind. so don't expect me to go around with my shoulders drooping and head down looking like eeyore in winnie the pooh.

life is like a good massage. you just don't want it to stop.

but unlike joshua, i do not expect to disrupt the journey of the sun, or slow its progress. but i can certainly require that he huff and puff a bit if he wants to keep up with me. so phase one will be that the sun enrolls in camp stern.

most of my friends who exercise with me know that phrase. run 5 miles. three sets of tennis. walk 18 holes of golf. hop on your bike. and end the day with a softball game. those used to be known as slow days at camp stern.

but the theory works even if you don't have an athletic bone in your body. make that sun run by getting as much pleasure out of life as you possibly can. including the pleasure of helping others.

sound corny? hedonistic? religious?

not to me. time's winged chariot is always closer than we would like. so enjoying the people you love and finding pleasure at every opportunity just seem to make sense.

which brings me to my dilemna. phase two of fighting cancer requires that common sense triumph over fun. i am not much of a poker player, but i know you don't throw away a royal flush even if the building is on fire, and that you can toss in a losing hand. my cards that i toss will include one of my greatest pleasures: food. not all food. but the baby back ribs, t-bone steaks, and cheeseburgers in paradise are going to be replaced by lots of arugala and bok choi.

banana cream pie and chocolate eclairs will appear only in the historic archives section of the stern house. but if i have the willpower to ignore a fresh napoleon slice, i can handle almost anything.

i am not certain that pizza and prime rib have anything to do with getting cancer. but i am willing to try things that are not in the woo woo category to get better. and if that means eating more asparagus and fresh greens than a rabbit, i'll give it a try. and joy is a closet vegetarian, so she will make all of this with enough style that i will not have to surrender all of my anticipation of dinner as a coming attraction. toss in a little baking soda and hydrogen peroxide and i am downright new age. i don't want to make the sun's job any easier. i'll do what i can to add quantity and quality to my years. and if i find that the deck is stacked against me at a later time, i will consider an all chicago dogs diet. with pork chops for breakfast and a steady stream of krispy kreme and dunking donuts being injected intervenously into my body.

not all that different from what i used to eat anyway.

and i can always add a pair of sunglasses.