kind of like flying

first radiation treatment today.

they see people one every fifteen minutes all day long. the time spent in the machine, which had been said to be 15 to 25 minutes, is more like 5 to 7 minutes.

and they're right. I didn't feel a thing.

or, rather, I imagined lots of things I wasn't really feeling...as might happen when nothing is stimulating you but you're hyper-sensitive to any noise in the sensory system. is that a burning? what is that over there? am I hearing something?

but, no, if I were to complain about this treatment, then I'd be off the scale if some treatment actually did affect me someday. no time, no pain, no loss of ability, no nausea.

my neck is massively stiff...not painful, but hard to turn...maybe related to the music I've been doing...possibly, just the way it is. I imagined that the stiffness was worse after the radiation.

probably not.

so I decided it's kind of like flying.

flying...in most ways...isn't painful. it's artificial, synthetic, weird...but only a little uncomfortable, and pretty much doable for most...

until you start to think of what it is you're doing.

I've had energy practitioners fill me with light.

howe different is this, really? I mean, isn't radiation energy?

it's different.

like, Captain James Pike on Star Trek different.

I just have to think of it like bagpipes.

granted, it's a squealing, pitch insensitive, toxic sound.

but if you have a great producer who uses only enough, in only the right places, in just the right way...some good hypothetically can come of it.

I wanted to make up a list of 35 jokes, so that every day I went to radiation, I could give the techs something to make them glad I was there.

I used to do that when some faraway repair place was fixing my stereo amp for two years. (!) obviously, leaving a message when I called was superfluous. so I'd leave a joke.

"Why did the chicken cross the Moebius Strip? To get to the same side. Call me."

it was kind of reassuring that someone beat me to it. there was, in the waiting room, a scrapbook of (I assume) patient compiled humor.

some I'd seen. embarrassing church bulletins. children's quotes on love.

I had not seen the humorous nutrition doctor bit.

*Is exercise good for you?

NO! your heart has only a certain number of beats alloted to it. once they're gone, you're done. There is no reason to ever make it beat any faster.

*Will exercising your stomach make you thin?

NO! exercise makes muscles grow!

*Is vegetarianism a good idea?

NO! cows eat grass! chickens eat corn! meat is a more efficient way to get vegetables!

*Are fried foods bad for you?

YOU"RE NOT HEARING ME! foods are fried in vegetable oil! case closed!

I might have to leave something there in the book.

I've had it happen several more times now. coming to Jim's for the session today. pulling up to the Little Bear. coming to Christy's for rehearsal.

what it is, is, that I am doing something in my present life that, because of the shadow of the possibility of it all being taken away, feels a little more like Scrooge revisiting his boyhood as a ghost. why...there's the Little Bear...I could walk to it blindfolded!

like a dream redreamed, with a little shadowy spooky cusp...but basically the site of some very special musical experiences.

leave it to Jim and Vickie to be at the very peak of their abilities when I played with them at the Ice House. drat. but they were also at the very peak of their generosity, which is always legendary, and made me feel like I was right up there with them.

I felt like a homemade CD...all the music was there, but I was lagging a little behind the metadata. breathe here. say something funny here. you always make this mistake...watch it.

I realized how much like a security camera I am onstage, panning and scanning the audience constantly. yeah, my neck cut back on that a batch...

but so far, all the kids are letting me back on the team.

and the audience...

it was better than the end of It's a Wonderful Life.

it's as if George could not only revel in the support of innumerable friends and relatives...but could make them stay and listen to three hours of him singing, playing, and telling jokes!

ok, to me, that's waaaaaaaaaay better.

at Christy's rehearsal, she played me a new song she'd written.

and I felt like, ok, the subscription rate to my life has gone up a batch. but, dammit, please, please don't cancel me. I'll pay it.

I just can't help reeeeeeeeally wanting to see what happens next.