Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Cancer is the new Black
The other night I watched an Entertainment Tonight segment on Mr. T's battle with cancer. Elizabeth Edwards and Tony Snow are both dealing with recurrences. Melissa Etheridge sings about her ordeal. Ted Koppel aired a documentary about his friend Leroy Sievers, a journalist. Lance. I commented to Brian that "Everybody's doing it... I can't believe how 'hip' I am!"
"Cancer is the new Black," he said.
I've never been in on a trend before. As a kid, I had dorky hair and clothes. When I moved from California to Tennessee, my mom bought me school clothes that would have been reasonably accepted in Northern California (stirrup pants with oversized sweatshirts and shaker sweaters), but in Tennessee--which was a couple of years behind--made me look like I was wearing my pajamas to school.
It's not that cancer is some new scourge; it's that people are talking about it like never before. Look at me--not only am I talking about it, I am blogging about it, which is like the double-whammy of trends, these days. I'm so edgy, I might accidentally cut myself.
And I don't have to worry about growing out or cutting a dorky hairstyle: all I have to do is take that one off and slap another one on my lumpy, bald head. Chic.
"Cancer is the new Black," he said.
I've never been in on a trend before. As a kid, I had dorky hair and clothes. When I moved from California to Tennessee, my mom bought me school clothes that would have been reasonably accepted in Northern California (stirrup pants with oversized sweatshirts and shaker sweaters), but in Tennessee--which was a couple of years behind--made me look like I was wearing my pajamas to school.
It's not that cancer is some new scourge; it's that people are talking about it like never before. Look at me--not only am I talking about it, I am blogging about it, which is like the double-whammy of trends, these days. I'm so edgy, I might accidentally cut myself.
And I don't have to worry about growing out or cutting a dorky hairstyle: all I have to do is take that one off and slap another one on my lumpy, bald head. Chic.
Labels: baldness, blog, Brian, mom
Comments:
Actually, I said cancer is the new thirty...like how they say 40 is the new thirty & of course (which some observers to the site may not know) you are in your 30s, so having cancer makes you very hip and with it. I guess if that is true it adds new meaning to Huey Lewis's, "Hip to be Square".
Regardless of that, with or without cancer you will always be hip & chic to me.
Regardless of that, with or without cancer you will always be hip & chic to me.
# posted by 
: 10:10 AM
: 10:10 AM
I guess everybody knows you are in your thirties since it is listed on the title bar to the blog. The reason I was referring to that fact in my previous post is I wanted to point out to the people, like me, who did not notice that it says that. Surely people who miss the title page of the blog are likely to read the comments posted here.
# posted by : 10:52 AM
: 10:52 AM
I think it was the movie, Brighton Beach Memiors and they said that everytime someone mentioned the word cancer they whispered:
cancer
Because they were afraid of it.
Yet, finally the cancer learned it was better to be bold because the best defense against being scared is having something with you.
Janet, I am with you. I always will be. Even from Independence, Missouri, I am with you.
And that other Elkins that you can snuggle with at night. He is ok too! ;-)
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cancer
Because they were afraid of it.
Yet, finally the cancer learned it was better to be bold because the best defense against being scared is having something with you.
Janet, I am with you. I always will be. Even from Independence, Missouri, I am with you.
And that other Elkins that you can snuggle with at night. He is ok too! ;-)
