Day 60 and Dancing Naked

Have you ever noticed how something can start out as fun and end up feeling like you're strapped across a table with a buzz saw moving ever closer?

Illustration: www.peteraschwanden.com
in "How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive"

A simple question from Carol, "How's the MG coming along?" prodded me to sit down recently and sketch out a project plan. Starting to sound like work already. With less than two months to go, we counted up the estimated time for each identified task, applied Murphy's Law by multiplying it times 1.5, added the "Gintar Factor" which uses an arcane geometric formula that roughly doubles the estimate, and discovered the car will be ready on the Fourth of July. Too bad the rally starts 4th of June. Houston, we have a problem!

Children's Cancer?

I have a personal interest in cancer. In 1998, I was diagnosed with cancer of the larynx. I faced the choice of surgery, which would have removed my vocal chords and cost me my voice, or radiation and chemo, which would have ended my ability to taste.  Miraculously, my wife discovered that the nearby University of Michigan Hospital had been initiating early trials of laser surgery for throat cancer. Through the intervention of throat oncologist Dr. Gregory Wolfe and his team, I not only survived but also recovered full use of my voice after many months of speech therapy. 

Over the next 10 years, I was a regular visitor to the U of M Department of Otolaryngology's cancer clinic, first monthly, then quarterly and eventually just once per year. In 2008, after 10 years of regular follow-up evaluations, I was pronounced "cured." I'm sure many of the people I shared a waiting room with were not so fortunate.

To this day, the most compelling memory of my years as a "cancer patient" is the image of the youngsters I saw while there. I had lived more than half of my life in good health, married to one woman, father of two sons, having traveled around the world, achieved a doctoral degree, and enjoyed hobbies and a successful professional career in health care. Children with cancer often don't get a chance like that. Before their lives really start, they face sickness, discomfort, the side effects of treatment, and the palpable sorrow of the families who suffer with them. Some never make it to their 2^nd birthday. Some attend their senior prom having lost all their hair to the efforts at eradicating their illness.  Not I, but these youngsters, truly faced the prospects of a life unfairly stolen by cancer. I had plenty of turns at bat. They don't even get to suit up.

The MG Drive for CURE is a way to pursue my passion and also give something back.

The First Fifty Years

I've been told my first spoken word was "auto" but I don't remember that. I do remember being home sick in the 3rd grade and having the mother of an older kid give me a couple of copies of Sports Car Graphic magazine to cheer me up. I was familiar with the upright-radiator MG's and XK 120 Jags on used car lots at that time, was enthralled with bathtub Porsches, and had even seen a couple of "Blue Flame" 6-cylinder Corvettes, although they didn't make the the right sound for a performance car. Now I got to stare at these shapes of foreign intrigue: Austin-Healey, Allard, Aston-Martin, gullwing Mercedes 300, Ferrari. I was mesmerized! My older cousin's '49 Ford coupe with the glaspaks and fender skirts would never seem the same.