One Amazing Man

Last night I saw another tribute to Randy Pausch, the charismatic Carnegie Mellon professor who died recently from pancreatic cancer. Diane Sawyer interviewed the family a few times to document his last months and activities.

Pausch's thoughtful book, 'The Last Lecture' was originally written for his children but became an instant best-seller because of its authentic message about living a righteous life.

Randy was 39 when he got married because 'he hadn't met anyone whose happiness meant more than his'...until he met Jai who became his wife and life partner. But she proved to be one of his greatest challenges as she was not immediately convinced that he wasn't gay. After all, he had an affinity for stuffed animals and he liked to sew! (Not that there's anything inherently gay about that!)

Terminal illness, be damned!

In the face of impending death, Pausch's optimistic attitude was the best antidote! It was as if he was mocking The Reaper, looking physically fit and carrying on normally.

His first symptoms were a flu-like fatigue but shortly after a series of tests, the tumors surrounding his pancreas, were discovered. He went on to explain that since his bile duct was compromised, the fats he consumed were not being processed which caused his stool to be lightweight and floating. That was his second symptom.

Pancreatic cancer is the most deadly because being behind other organs, the pancreas is hidden. By the time one feels any discomfort, the disease is usually progressed. In that regard, Pausch's illness was textbook.

In 47 years, Randy Pausch lived more life than most of us do given much longer. His inspiration and contributions are exemplary but the greatest trait he possessed was 'joie de vivre'. In his own words, he claimed, 'I don't know how to not have fun!'

When his children were finally told of his sickness, his oldest son said, 'My dad taught me that there's no problem that can't be solved.'

Unfortunately, cancer remains one of the few that defies that statement.

Every picture tells a story

Skin Art. That's what it is, after all.

No longer confined to the epidermis of the young and fitful or drunken sailors, tattoos grace the skin of every age and economic status nowadays.

People who etch their bodies with ink in the name of creativity and self-expression intrigue me. Like passing a car-wreck, I'm compelled to stare at those who decorate their bodies with more than clothing and accessories.

Some tattoos very clearly scream 'look at me!' like the freak, er, I mean, the guy with his whole face inked who struts his stuff in the crowds on Alberta during Last Thursday. He must WANT people to stare, right? So, I oblige!

I always wonder, "what kind of work do they--with loud, visible 'tatts'--do for a living?" 'Ink Face' is probably a tattoo artist advertising his craft, front and center, wherever he goes.

I understand many people get tattoos to mark, quite literally, a special date or to enshrine a moment in time. Most are discreet about body placement for only their intimates to see and enjoy while others...aren't so.

This much I know: the more bodies I see covered in ink, the happier I am to be "tatt-free".

Only marks on this epidermis are beauty--that's au natural, baby!

Ha -Ha!

It's the best medicine! It tickles your funny bone, rumbles around in your belly, stimulates your immune system, brings on giggles and it costs nothing...

What is it? You know...hahahahahahahaha!!!

LAUGHTER!

Where would we be without it? Life would just be too glum to survive; I know I couldn't.

I LOVE LAUGHTER. I love to do it and hear it.

And I only hope, for all my vices, that my laughter makes up for them!

Ha, Ha! As if!

Cafe Ole`

Oh, the bane of my existence!

Can't say how many I've had but it's time, once again, to replace another coffee maker. Each new one, regardless of fancy features, has failed to last.

Maybe it's time to inve$t in one made by a high-end brand like Cuisinart or KitchenAid. Will they prove to serve any better?

How about the drip-factor? Haven't found one yet that doesn't. Mr. Coffee is the original but has HE perfected the dripless coffee pot?

Maybe it's time to find out!

"Soul Food"

Barking dogs. Screaming kids. Buzzing saws. These are some of the neighborhood sounds that disturb the peace.

Since I have none of the above, I do what I can to remind the neighbors that their pets and kids aren't the only ones who can break the silence.

I rock n' roll...

Loudly!

I crank up the stereo, dance, sing along, play air guitar; generally getting my ya-ya's out. But I wait till late morning or early afternoon to turn up the volume. Wouldn't want to miss the sound of early morning birds chirping, even though that never stops barking dogs.

I prefer to get my exercise unconventionally. Without the boredom of repetitive lifts, bends and squats, I'm raising my heart rate my way: sweatin' it up while rockin' out!

Satisfying two daily requirements: moderate exercise and food for the soul.

Ouch!

Isn't the human body an amazing organism!? Its ability to heal itself is truly incredible!

For instance, our tongue.

Recently, I bit mine so hard and cut it so deeply with a molar, it took weeks to heal completely. It bled and it throbbed. I wasn't sure my tongue would recover fully.

This incident got me thinking how bizarre it'd feel to have, like many 20-somethings, a studded tongue. A foreign object, no matter what or where it's located on the body, is considered an invasive object.

But I suppose, after the initial incision heals, it's like all other boo-boos. It closes up and fades away to the point where one would never know it's there.

Still, that may be fine for others; as for me, I'll remain stud-free.

Berry Good!

Some people believe it's Christmas...but count me in with those who think THIS, the berry middle of the summer is...

The.

Most.

Wonderful.

Time.

Of.

The.

Year.

Especially here, in Oregon; especially now, when all the berries are about to burst off the vine.

Raspberries. Blueberries. Blackberries. Huckleberries. Boysenberries. Loganberries; cobbler, pancakes, muffins, ice cream and cocktails.

Berries are as native to this region as peaches are to Georgia!

And they are m-m-m-m good...

right now...

...during this...

the most wonderful time of the year!

Freak Flag

Here's something we rarely hear...but it's true,

so I'm just going to say it: I LOVE MY HAIR!

No fuss, no muss...but mostly because it is stick-straight.

I'm glad I don't suffer from 'humidity blues'. Whenever the air is thick with moisture, no fret about frizzing up.

Of course, I didn't always love my hair. Like most people, I wanted what it wasn't. Too many perms later, to try to achieve that which just wasn't meant to be, finally, I embraced my locks, as is.

I've never regretted being low maintenance. No color or blow dryer. No serums or pomades; no mousse and certainly no hair spray! Beyond the use of shampoo and conditioner, about every third day, my hair is totally natural and by not over-processing, shiny, too.

Proud to be Non-Product Queen!

Hot Fun!

It was time for a complete change of scenery but close to home.

It didn't take long to figure out Eastern Oregon was just the place since neither of us had ever been there. Deep in the Wallowa National Forest at the end of a very, very, long and winding road, was our final destination.

I braced myself for what I knew would be a long-ass haul. That it was! The worst part: getting past the high, dry desert country in-between the Cascade and Blue Mountains.

These are the times and places that air-conditioning in Oregon is hardly optional. Driving through the hottest, driest stretches, the words "desolation" and "complete desolation" kept coming to mind while wondering, "How did anyone live out here?".

We passed places we'd only heard of on the nightly news like Arlington, Meacham, Heppner, Boardman, Pendleton, La Grande and Enterprise, otherwise known as Cowboy Country.

But our charming little cabin in the woods at 4,000 feet above sea level just off beautiful Wallowa Lake surrounded by 8,000-foot snow-capped peaks, was well-worth the drive.

Wallowa Lake Resort and Hell's Canyon wild scenic area reminded me of many other places I'd seen before like Park City, Utah; other times, it felt like we were near Crater Lake.

At any rate, we weren't in Northeast Portland anymore!

After five days breathing ponderosa pine air, getting up-close to nature, feeding deer, eating heartily--fresh, rainbow trouts caught by John--sleeping deeply and seeing how the other, rural half live, it was time to come back down to sea level.

By the time we reached Hood River and the Cascade mountains, we breathed a heavy sigh of relief. The cool greenery and hovering clouds reminded us of why we live in the verdant Willamette valley.

Mission accomplished!