I haven't said much about being a cancer survivor lately because there hasn't been much to say. I've been in remission for over three years now and it is yesterdays news. Now, I would like you to join me in a celebration of life; easy style....

  I was diagnosed with Leukemia while on vacation in Florida about five years ago. It is too much of a blur to rember the exact day. The doc told me that I had a 50/50 chance of living five years. Just like that....

Well folks. I did it. I made it. Thank you Lord....

God has given me a gift of putting words on paper and I want very badly to find the right words that will encourage and enlighten anyone else who learns that they too have cancer. I am living, walking proof that cancer is not a death sentence unless one lets it be. Half or more of the battle is to not give up before you even get started. Don't think of the long road ahead but of today. Believe me, the bark (cancer) is worse then the bite and the bite hurts a lot...

I want to offer solace to the families of the reluctant patient because it affects them too. I want them to know how important they are as I have told my family of how much I needed them and they were always there for me. I was never alone. When I couldn't take care of myself they did. It's a pebble of life tossed into the turbulent waters and the ripple of emotions cascade outward reaching all of those involved in a myraid of ways..

Family must ask the questions, say the hard things and not be afraid to talk of the disease. Human nature dictates that we have the hardest times being honest with the ones we know best. Many times we will tell a total stranger more then the person in the hospital bed. Afraid to say the wrong thing. The wrong thing is not ssaying anything. The transition is easier then with nothing is left unsaid. To me, it was all about asmooth transition into the next life. I was ready... 

I didn't want to die. No one does. I was just starting to turn my life around for the good and now I had cancer. I had just built the penthouse cabin with a new neighbor who liked me for who I am and not for what I might have been in the past. A clean sheet. He gave me the confidence I once strutted as a youth. I started getting dressed in the morning, set the bottle down, picked myself up and dusted off my shoes and decided there is a reason to live. Little did I know I was in for the battle of my life. One I didn't choose.....

I vividly remember what I said when doc told me the news that day, "Ok. What are we going to do about it?" I didn't cry. Marines don't cry. I waited for later when I was alone to cry. I cry now as a wave of memories come back and I try to sort through the thouths. I have to stop and back away from the computer. I call a friend for support holding back the tears. To help me write today. We all need that someone to talk to. It was harder in the trenches then it is remembering it now......

I told my parents the news on the way home from the hospital and it was a quiet ride except for my mom crying and my dad trying not to. My dad said a father is not supposed to seehis son die. I'll never forget the look on their faces when I said Leukemia. It was like I had told them I'd been shot. I can still see that look. I saw it for two years. Dead man walking. ...

Without making a conscience decision I decided to fight cancer head on. There was never, ever a doubt I would beat it. I was scared for sure but not about to let others see it. That day, I met the chemo room for the first time giving blood and if I needed a wake up call this was it. I sat next to a couple and she had IV's hooked up while she was covered in blankets. She wore a huge scarf over her head. Her husband held her hand telling me that she was going to be all right. She sked what I had and for the first time I said Leukemia but I was just here to give blood. I guess I wanted to deny what was to come. My turn in the lazy boy chair. The throwing up. Losing my hair. Losing my identity. Losing grip on my life that was out of control. I was in no mans land but I had my faith......

I didn't know what was to come and that is a good thing. The blood transfusions, six months of chemo, my hair falling out and seeing conehead in the mirror and wanting my old self back. He was gone but a new, easy kind of guy emerged from the ashes. The steroids drove me half crazy and bloated me beyond recognition. It was so bad my own brother came into the room and excused himself thinking he was in the wrong room. He sat in the chair next to my bed and he held my hand. "It'll be ok, Jimmie", I'd tell him and I meant it....

Of all the pain I have felt nothing comes close to seeing the pain on the faces of the ones who grieved over my hospital bed. I was determined to encourage them that I was in God's hands and they are hands of hope. I honestly never feared dying. I didn't want to and I would fight the good fight for as long as I could. With a smile, a blessing and confidence...

Then came the stroke and I prayed for one good day. Oh Lord, please give me one day where I have no pain and I can get back home to my cabin on the lake. If need be, let me die at home. I was sick and tired of being sick. I never gave up believing that day would come and finally it did and here I am today. I have so much to be thankful for and so many to thank. Not one of you knew me when I had cancer but you have been with me in my recovery and my years of remission. Seeing a transformation of a man who once was lost but now has been found. Someone once said I was a 'bit much' in my writing style and I guess I am at times. I'm just so darn happy to be alive and to have such friends as I have on boomer. My life couldn't be any better then it is today and I know it will be even better tomorrow with you a part of the journey to come......

Join my in a celebration of life; easy style...

Tomorrow I am going to send out a small check to a local cancer society. I challenge you to do the same in the name of all who suffer, live, love and die with cancer. If we all do it we can find a cure....

This is for you Bobbi....

Easy....

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The sky is a pale blue this morning with wavy, purple clouds on the horizon and I can hear a crow squaking as it flies over the frozen lake. Deer tracks and my tracks mar the white cover of snow on the lake like an intrusion on the smooth, white blanket.  A lone deer is in the yard already and I know she sleeps in the swamp behind my cabin. I feel for her and think she may be lonley. I wonder if I am. Her fur has expanded like a winter coat and I think she is pregnant or else she drinks a lot of beer. I try to imagine what it is like to never be able to really get warm laying in the snow under a tree when it is -20 or walking in waist high snow with predators wanting your hide. Her head pivots like a periscope as she searches for enemies and her ears are up high like radar and when I cough inside she flinches. Were kindred spirits my friend....

All day the deer wander through my yard in packs or alone like my current bud. I find myself captivated and in a trance as I try to understand their ways. The biggest deer horde the most food and the smallest yearlings get the least. I cringe watching a small one in the woods munching on cedar boughs after being kicked away from the feed. And then I see other deer eating together, big or small, and I think it is all about family. What else, eh? When I have a half dozen deer in the yard and another bunch comes out of the woods it is a show of force; bristling ears, foot stomping and ugly stares. A bit of high noon...

The beat goes on during the day but picks up before dark when they start roaming for food. I look for marks, scars or limps to give them names. We love giving names to animals and I think of the dynamic duo, emom and maui, but all these deer look the same. That's ok. I feel safer and I feel content when the deer are here. When I see someone with two legs walking up my driveway I cringe wondering what their problem is. I need to work on this as I try to separate the peace and tranquility I get from my hermitness and my deer and my squirrels. I don't need much to keep me entertained and I need little to get by. Like my friends in the yard....

It's all about being comfortable in my skin like I guess the deer are in their fur with the cold of today. I've found my valhalla, my eden in my cabin on the lake. I'm set in my ways but once in awhile I must bust loose too like a whitetail running full stride on the frozen lake for no reason other to stretch out the legs and get the heart beating. I still have that urge. I don't run anymore but I can still play pool. I don't fight though. I feel good and life is good....

Easy..

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It has been a long time since I have been asked to 'step outside' but that's exactly what happened Wednesday playing pool. One of my buds (?) is a bit thin skinned and after scratching on the 8 ball he thought I was laughing at him. Heck, everyone was laughing at him but I was the one walking by and he gave me a shove which I didn't much care for and let him know it. Face to face. A silence went through the saloon and I knew what they were thinking...

FIGHT!!! I've only had one fight in my life and that was when I was in the Marines. A slime ball had stolen my transistor radio and when I saw him with it glued to his ear I hit first and he went down and stayed down. I picked up my radio and that was it. My hand was sore for a week and fellow Marines gave me a wide berth and friend requests were at all time highs. OK. Until boomer...

I could see the veins in his neck as he called me outside. He was Burner's brother for crips sake. He'd been sick and talked like Darth Vader and all I could think of was, "I don't want to go outside. I thought we were friends". He backed off and left the bar since he was already a twice loser and ...strike three....your otta here.....I think he felt bad..

The bartender bought me a coke because he had been bothering her for hours and many drinks. The soft murmers went away, the juke box came on again or maybe it never went off and I felt bad even though I wasn't out of line. I must have done something to set him off but I meant no more harm then when I tell a bud who misses a deer that he couldn't hit the ground with his rifle. Or telling a bud who got lost that he could get lost walking in a circle. It comes with the territory...

I don't fight. I detest it. In my lost years I hurt the ones I love with words not fists. Ironic, eh? And then I found God. I hated myself for the mistakes I made and I found forgiveness with Him. This unfortunate confrontation brings back those memories of the bad days. I think of them less but they are always there. Like an ugly black cloud. I think they should too. So, I remember what I am capable of and try not to be like that ever again. "I just want to be your friend"....

Easy...  

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 I'm watching two deer in the yard before dark and I'd say they are holding up pretty well. I guess the same can be said for me. I've been away for awhile again with no sensible reason other then I haven't felt like writing. I feel good and God is good to me. I've decided to get myself back into shape with power walks across the frozen lake and pumping my legs on the uphill parts of the Fence River road. I have an old pair of snowshoes and they really tire me out but there is something about being outside with nature in the glory of winter time in Upper Michigan. Frozen mustache and all....

It seems like I spend half my day getting dressed to go outside or undressing from being out there. I bare witness to this being true but not to the mirror. I have three pairs of long johns, a wool cap, my mad bomber fur cap, two pairs of gloves, a dicky, a scarf and a full face mask. I have socks that can be heated and I have socks that keep me warm on their own. They are all wet when the day is done. I try to shovel the whole yard and its been tough and I wonder why I don't wait for Burner to clean it up in one swell swoop. I think it is the point of it. And I can be more tidy then him. I'm still searching for a pile of sauna wood he buried about four storms back...

 The days are short and the nights long and I'm no night owl nor have I seen one lately. I've heard them though. Late at night when it is so toasty and comforting. Socially, I get out for senior pool on Wednesdays and if need be on Mondays Burner will take me grocery chopping. I spend most of my time and little money alone here. Some days I cook up fancy meals and other days I eat out of the can. I eat a lot of eggs. I eat a lot of bread. I eat the fish when they are biting but I don't care for cleaning them. I care less for augering 18" into the ice hoping for a tasty pike before my line freezes or my fingers freeze. I do it because it is eating off the land. My land..

I talk out loud to myself. Not often but enough to make me wonder if I'll  eventually do it in front of people. I hope not. I smile for no good reason. I talk to squirrels who aren't listening and my mind wanders but is always going. I read like if I stop I'll never read again. My latest hero is this jet pilot who landed in the Hudson. Hero's keep us going. The real good people among us. But, were all good people. We just haven't been found by the masses yet. You and me. Sincerely....

I'm excited about the inaguration on Tuesday. I will watch it on tv. I'm pestering others to do the same. This is special folks. We had our Camelot and I feel it has come again a different guise. We need hope now more then ever. We need prayers and we need each other. Together, we can do anything. Yes, we can....

Easy.... 

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 After a record 27 straight days of snow in Upper Michigan Burner has kept my road open and I had no idea how different winter can be out here with access to the real world. I knew it would help me get out but I had no idea how it has let people into my world. Yikes. My schemes of long winter days in front of my new bud Dell writing the consummate hermit novel that would catapult me to fame and fortune has fallen faster then a bluejay trying to run off with a burnt loaf of homemade bread. I think I like the company but not sure I like the price I will have to pay. The penthouse cabin has become a way station (parking lot) for camp owners who hoof it from here to get to their camp. Come on in....

 The Pike are biting on frozen Island Lake, outside my window, and down the hill, that has brought new and old buds from Republic who love relaxing in a warm camp while sitting here gawking out the window at their tip-ups drinking suds and telling long jokes that are short on laughs. The more suds the better the jokes unless your drinking coke in a suds world, bud.....

I cook the meals, an offering for guys who can go all day without eating and I don't know how they do it but I hear their bellies frowling. I've burnt Chicken and brownies being too busy entertaining then paying attention while they all eat for free. I don't mind at all and even laugh when one of them falls going down the ski slide hill to the lake. Many the yooper has bounced off the leaky teaky 2 which is upside down and covered with snow but a determined stopping point....

Can't wait until this week when the high temp will be below zero for a couple of days. That should be fun. Stay warm my friends unless your in Hawaii. And if so...Aloha...

Easy...

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It was cold in Highland Park, Michigan. It was Jan. 5, 1914. The concrete streets were covered with snow that swirled and the men pulled their coats over their necks to hold off the cold. They were stomping their feet to keep them warm and spoke in hushed tones. It was 3 AM and a crowd were gathering at the entrace of Ford Motor Company. They were looking for jobs. Henry Ford had just announced he was offering employees $5 a day for eight hours work. The news spread through the city and further like an electrical current. There were jobs to be had in Detroit...

in the hills of Georgia a man was packing a small suitcase. He had little clothes but he had a dream. He needed a job. A good job. His brother had called from Detroit with the news and this was his chance. He was waiting for his ride north. His wife was scared. He had no money for the trip and she had no money to feed the kids. Christmas had been poor and January was worse. He kissed her on the cheek, 'I'll send for you, Hon', and he went out the door. Looking for a job...

My Grampa Plankey met Henry Ford while he was caretaking at the McCormick mansion in the Huron mountains of Upper Michigan. Back in the 30's. Thomas Edison was there too. Edward Plankey had done a favor for Mr. Ford and was offered a $5 bill which he politily refused. That night, at home, my Gramma opened his lunch box and there was a$20. No doubt left by Henry Ford...

Henry Ford was no fool. He invented the assembly line making dependable cars but turnover was rampant (400%) in 1913. The wage that year was $2.31 for nine hours of work. I guess he figured that if he could build a car that his employees could buy and pay back in monthly installments, he would always have a market.  As long as they showed up they could drive a Ford car. A genius....

 ******

The couple stood by the sidewalk taking one last look at their home. It had been foreclosed. The Ford plant in Flint, Michigan had closed for good. After 90 years. They were heading north in a 12 year old SUV pulling a trailer with everything they owned. The hope was officially gone. Camelot was only a vague memory. All those boom time years were gone in a wall street opening bell minute. He looked at her, 'It'll be all right, Hon' and she smiled. It would be ok but it sure wasn't going to be fun. The smiles are guarded these days....

In Georgia an old woman rocks in her chair listening to the clock tick. The phone rings and it is her son. He doesn't call much but she waits for it. He is excited. 'I'm coming home, Mamma'. Tears came to her eyes and she cried. She wondered why he would give up his good job in Detroit to come back and care for her? It didn't matter. She jumped up with a burst of energy long lacking to bake his favorite cookies. He loved her cookies....

What Henry Ford started back then was revolutionary. $5 an hour was more then just a job. It was a future. It was a way of life that led to us boomers. It was a good life. Workers came from all over the country. And other countries. Unions were formed in blood.  A Ford is more then just a car or a car Company. Ford is us and we are Ford. We must not let it or what it stands for fail.... 

Did you notice Ford hasn't yet touched the money loaned by Congress? Henry must find some peace in that....

Easy...

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 We set an attendance record inside the penthouse cabin at Christmas time (documentation sent to Guiness book of world records) and as much as I liked it I am glad to be home alone, again. I thrive with my life structered and this week it was haphazard at best. I was busier then a squirrel at the corn pile trying to keep my cabin from getting trashed. I lost. Smelly socks hanging from the tilted picture above the heater, heaps of cold weather gear piled so high a man could ski jump off, a heater turned up so high I turned down a sauna, ice fishing tip-ups with treble hooks stuck into the carpet, dried blood from a live Pike thrashing on the floor by the door, dried blood from Mikee who fell on his ice auger after slipping on the ice, and nary a partridge in a pine tree....

I ended up cooking for six on Christmas day and I had to move the bedroom back three feet so everyone could sit down. The main dish was a baked chicken glazed with apple jelly, stuffing and mashed potatos I picked myself, golden brown corn muffins and double fudge brownies for dessert. Lots of lap eating and slurping going on. All that was missing was name tags stuck to our shirt. There is so much snow outside we had two inches inside when coats and boots came off. It was so cold the thermometer asked to come inside. And when the meal was done and the wishbone left to dry we all sat around like fat cats. Meoww...

In Kris I see myself and we cling to each other like glue. We lament thinking of Karen and Jeff and how their Christmas has been. I'm pained  thinking of our seperation and the many miles between us. But, the bad days are forgotten and the rememberances all good. As it should be. Kris loves this property like I do and I sleep at night knowing when I am gone it will be in capable hands. This holiday I pushed myself to keep up with him and the others and it took a toll on me. I felt like a car that ran out of gas but hadn't stopped yet. I feel old and I don't like it but I'm trying to stay positive. It's all I know.....

Christmas eve my bud Ticky called to wish me a Merry Christmas and he was alone that night with literally one stick of wood left to heat his home. I asked if he wanted to be alone with us and sure enough he showed up in time to eat Christmas dinner. We'll both be 60 this spring and I remember when he stuck his tongue on the cold metal bus seat when we were in kindergarten. He cried like a baby and I felt so sorry for him. He was outward and funny and I was sensitive and shy. We were six years old. He disavows any knowledge of that but gives me a wink on the sly. He was happy to be with us and looking at him when he didn't know I was I saw that twinkle in his eye and that trademark grin. It's been gone too long and his presence was the best Christmas present of all. The next day I woke up with a terible head cold but Burner and I braved the elements and cut him some firewood here on the property and brought it to his house and loaded him up for a few days or more. It felt so good when I was feeling so poorly.....

It was the best Christmas I've had in a long time.....

Thank you Lord...

Easy....

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This isn't fiction. This is what Christmas was like when I was growing up in Detroit for the Plankey family. Funny thing was that we never celebrated Christmas in Detroit. We all piled into the family car and my dad drove 500 miles north to Upper Michigan to stay with his parents at the home he grew up in. Mom was his navigator and more then that. She was his compass. Year after year and snowstorm after snowstorm we always went north. Never once did my little brother Jimmy and I know all our presents were in the trunk of the car. We thought Santa Claus brought them and weren't those great times when we were so young and we believed in everything. The doubts crept in the older we got but the good memories never faded...

I remember we always arrived in Champion, Michigan late at night; usually a day or two before Christmas. My dad always did the driving (9-10 hours) after getting off work and not once did he not get us there safely. He was my hero then and he still is now. We crossed the straights of Mackinac in a car ferry before the five mile suspension bridge (The Big Mac) was built (1957) and I remember the long lines waiting to drive into the ferry boat. Can you imagine that? Families would get out of their cars and we would have snowball fights and I  think we even sang Christmas carols. A festive time with strangers I'll never forget. All waiting to get to the other Michigan. In later years we would drive over the bridge and it would be lit up in green and red lights that filled the snowy, holiday sky...

Gramma and Grampa Plankey were always waiting up for us with smiles and she was a ninety pound wisp of an Irish lass named Katie and she would squeeze my cheek and call me 'pet'. Grampa was a tall, quiet man who would take me for long walks in the woods like I take now. My love of nature came from him. I talk to him sometimes now when I'm in the woods. I don't find that strange. When he spoke I listened and I loved him and he was larger then life. He worked underground in the iron ore mine called the Blueberry Mine. I always thought that was odd. Was he mining blueberries?......

It seemed like before we could get our jackets off Plankeys came out of everywhere. My uncles Jim and John, My aunts Mary and Carol and lots of cousins, nephews and friends. The round table talk was always in the kitchen and Gramma would scurry around the stove cooking something that always smelled good. All the women tried to help but Gramma shooed them off like they'd steal a recipe. She controlled the house and my Grampa was her bodyguard. Not like she needed one. On Christmas eve everyone had to go to midnight mass and I always found it funny how she could get all those men to put down their beer and dress up in suits and ties and follow one after one out the door, up the hill and around the corner to he Catholic church where my Gramma had a corner seat reserved and a pew full of pretty polished Plankeys....

Jimmy and I slept upstairs and we could never get to sleep on Christmas eve. We'd opened our one present after dark and we would take turns peeking down the steps at the Christmas tree that filled the room with that evergreen smell. The tree was filled with lights, ornaments, popcorn on string, and tinsel tossed lightly and not thrown. I would listen to my dad telling stories of life in Detroit and how long he was staying and when he was leaving. I remember they were all happy stories. Except the leaving part. The family was back together at Christmas. All good memories....

Jimmy and I would get up early Christmas morning. Dah. My mom and dad would get up too and so would my grandparents. We'd open the presents and I remember one year it was a vibrating football game. Another it was hockey skates and yes, I did get that BB gun. Grampa bought me that and took me aside and told me, "Don't shoot anyone in the eyes, eh kid"..... 

When all the presents had been opened, played with and played with again we had the famous Christmas dinner. I never got to sit at the big table. Jimmy and I ate with our cousins on a card table that wobbled with a little girl who cried a lot. Christmas was a time of happiness though and a chance to spend it with the ones we love. Family. Close friends. Those were great times and I've tried to pass them on to my sons. From all I learned..from Christmas past...

Oh yea..and we got back home to Detroit Dad would call person to person and ask for himself and my Gramma would say he isn't here. They knew we were home safely. I pray your holiday will be a safe one too..

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year...

A Child is born and His name is Jesus...

Easy...

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I crack myself up on a regular basis. I laugh at my jokes like I told them. A sign of the good life. Like this morning when I laughed working my way into the mood of the new character I am developing for my novel. He is not me but you may think so. That is ok with me. As long as you remember it is fiction and not fact. I have a hard time figuring out which is which myself living here a mile from Witch Lake. It's tough being a cast of characters. I spent two years being Easy and Pete and now I have a new person I haven't even named yet. It will come to me like everything does; often on a silver platter...

I think of you often my friend. Especially now. We are a special band of brothers and sisters. How is your holiday and how is your life? I get glimpses in your comments, messages, posts and I pray the holiday season will be a blessed time for you and yours. I really mean this as I sit here alone thinking of my family everywehere but here. Envious a bit but I will have Kris here on Tuesday. Thank you Lord. I have my tree behind me and it's not very big but it is a beautiful tree. I found it in my yard on my own property and if I could I would send each of you one but I know that won't happen. Christmas cards cover one wall and I always feel bad for not sending return cards. Ihave no excuse for not sending them but it is the way I am. I wish I would do more but I don't. It's not like I don't have the time. I have some problems with stuff like that and I hope my friends don't hold this against me. Here on boomer I can send out one big card to all of one in one little post. I guess this is it. Happy Holidays to each and every one on this site. You have changed my life for the better in the last two years and I will be forever grateful...I do plan on posting a fictional Christmas story early next week....

I woke up last night hearing a truck idling in my driveway and it was my friend from Wisconsin asking me if he could park his truck and trailer here while he and his wife take their 4x4 up the road to the biker camp where all the guys from Wisconsin come to have fun. It is hard getting to the camp now with all the snow. I imagine they have fun in Wisconsin too. They brought me a christmas present and it is under the tree. I think it is a 6 pack. It might be coca cola but I suspect it is beer. Wisconsin beer. I guess that says something about me. Some like wine and I do too but I prefer beer. I don't drink much and go days without it depending on wether I am alone or going to town. In town I mostly drink beer. Burner's driving....

Anytime now I will look out the window and see my friend ice fishing and I will head out for coversation wearing three layers of everything except shoes. It was -10 earlier but now it is above zero and that's warm enough for me. If I play my cards right I might get a nice Northern Pike they might not want. It will cook up nice tonight.....

Have a great Saturday, eh?.......

Easy....

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