I HARDLY know where to begin, except to say all goes swimmingly despite the plague. It’s easy to get pulled into the daily pleasures of life and not notice how quickly the weeks pass.
D1D1 enjoys her little playhouse under the side-door stairs. We read chapter books there in the afternoons, Isadora Moon has a Birthday and such.
This afternoon’s fare: dill pickles, pretzels, fig bars, honey nut cheerios
I lost confidence in my idea of stretching canvas over the wall frames. It didn’t seem durable once I had it all together, so I cut out the canvas and nailed on a couple of sheets of T1-11. Turned them sideways to look like clapboards.
We camped in the playhouse one chilly night last week when the temp was down in the high 30s. We read a book until she drifted off. I stirred around 4 in the morning before drifting back myself and before long the birds were busy chirping to call up the sun. Our neighborhood is one giant aviary. Anyway, a delightful night in the outdoors; her first ever, at 5 years & 5 months, and my first since the Arctic trek of last summer.
Now this is passing strange. More times than I can count I’ve walked the path through the Lutheran cemetery in the woods behind the house. When my girls were little they rode their bikes there, and now D1D1 rides hers there. It’s a safe place, a single-lane asphalt loop, no traffic. The gate’s always locked, visitors have to walk in.
I’ve walked the loop a thousand times in the last 30 years, but only on a recent walk did a particular stone catch my attention. It’s right on the edge of the path.
These are siblings who died as young adults within seven weeks of each other. It’s not unreasonable to guess the likely cause. The Spanish Flu pandemic was most lethal here in Little Rhody in the fall of 1918.
Strange, isn’t it? With a new pandemic going on now, this stone happens to catch my eye for the first time ever? If there’s such a thing as the soul, I wonder if Anna and Frank whisper to all who pass by… Wear the mask.
Mindful of today, Memorial Day, I call your attention to a stone without a grave. A sailor from the neighborhood. He was lost in the Java Sea at age 20, in the Japanese bombing of the USS Langley, February 28, 1942.
U.S. Navy destroyers sank the Langley after the Japanese attack left it dead in the water. Sixteen crewmen died in the bombing. Were their bodies not recoverable? Was this kid one of them? I don’t see anything on the web that tells the whole tale in an authoritative way.
Saw a few accounts that say some survivors of the Langley were lost when a ship transporting them to Australia was torpedoed. Moreover, a rescue ship responding to that sinking abandoned quite a few survivors in the water. Japanese subs were nearby and someone in command made a judgment that everyone would be in the water if the ship tried to take more survivors aboard.
How many times a day for the rest of your life would you relive making that call?
The bride found the sailor’s photo in his yearbook from Cranston High School, now Cranston East. He lived on Orchard Street not far from here.
A word about the cancer thing: I’m done. Which is not to say done for. That was never a concern with this mickey mouse Non-Hodgkins bidness.
I had the post-chemo PET/CT scan ten days ago. It came up clean. I’m told that’s unusual. The doc says when you’ve had cancer throughout your lymph system there are often a few hotspots left over that bear watching.
In my case, no. Nothing left. Oh it’s likely there on a microscopic level, chemo’s not a cure, but the doc says it might be ten years or more before the cancer becomes detectable again. Plenty of opportunity for something else to get me. And by then, he guessed, the treatment’s likely to be easier. No more intravenous nitrogen mustard.
My physical conditioning went downhill over the course of treatment. I lost strength and flexibility, and much of my get-up-and-go. For the first spring in 15 years I have no desire whatsoever to saddle up one of the motorcycles and head out. It’s too much work. Doc advised me to give it six months before I can expect to start feeling like my pre-cancer, pre-chemo self again.
Taking it slow, an hour or two at a time. It feels great to get out there in the air and swing a sledge hammer.
One thing about these full-body scans: they see everything. Things you’re not being treated for. A radiologist looking for cancerous lymph nodes may note things like, hey, a non-obstructive stone downstream of your left kidney, and dig it, plaque deposits in your aorta.
In the one case, drink more water. In the other it’s yeah yeah well I am sneaking up on 66 you know, not 26. I’d be surprised to hear that bad cholesterol wasn’t leaving footprints in my aorta.
My oncologist is on my side, not to mention Yogi Berra’s. You can see a lot by looking. The more you look, the more you find. He says chemo was a great success, declare victory and depart the field.
The bride, no way. She saw the radiologist’s report and now I’m on the Mediterranean Diet for life.
Actual conversation about eating healthy. You can guess who’s who.
Cheesesteak is healthy.
No it’s not.
Let’s have cheesesteak tonight.
We’re having spaghetti squash.
Cheesesteak on the side?
No.
Latest instructions, as of five minutes ago: “I think you should say you’re liking the new diet.”
While eating healthy, I’ve gotten into re-reading Hemingway for some reason, plowed through For Whom The Bell Tolls, A Farewell to Arms, The Sun Also Rises. I like his short stories more than his novels but he holds my interest in the long form.
I’m still getting motorcycle parts in the mail. I’ll post something about wrenching on the piglet 650 one of these weeks.
Starting tomorrow I need to bang out a new story synopsis for the Phantom daily strip. Mike Manley will be looking for copy about a month from now. He’s been filing incredible art lately, some of his best ever.
There you have it. Life goes on.
Cheers from here.
Tony DePaul, May 25, 2020, Cranston, Rhode Island, USA
Fantastic news Tony! Love the photos. There’s HOPE…
Hooray! What great news. The good ship Tony D sails again, tossing well-versed life preservers far and wide to us survivors of today’s turbulent seas.
Chip
Thanks so much for writing, all. Your comments mean a lot to me.
I keep thinking of that kid from the neighborhood who joined the Navy and lost his life so early in the war, seven weeks after Pearl Harbor. When you look at the military’s well-documented history of covering up bad news, friendly-fire casualties and the like, I have to suspect that “went down with the aircraft carrier Langley” might be a convenient shorthand for whatever really happened.
Officialdom isn’t going to be awfully eager to tell a family their son made it off the Langley alive, was picked up by the USS Pecos, and a day later, when the Pecos was torpedoed, the submarine threat was deemed so grave the USS Whipple steamed away and left your son and a hundred other guys alive in the water.
A dreadful business, war. Government-authorized mass homicide, and so well sanitized by Hollywood right up through the 1970s. All that glorious nonsense we grew up watching.
Under “further reading,” the wiki on the USS Pecos mentions a scholarly write-up I’m going to have to follow up on, just to satisfy my own curiosity. It doesn’t appear to be online but must be available somewhere in hard copy: Messimer, Dwight R. (1983). Pawns of War: the Loss of the USS Langley and the USS Pecos. Annapolis, Maryland: Naval Institute Press.
Glad to hear the news of your radiology report. Be well.
Heading to your far corner of the US soon. Going to try and spend some time in the NE. If you have some top motorcycle roads that you recommend, send them my way.
Regards, Roger
Glad to hear from you and that you are in the clear.
As a person, Hemingway has not aged well in the current culture. But his writing is still unforgettable. “The Killers” is a particular favorite of mine.
In your absence, I’ve been reading your earlier blog entries. Both you and Mike Manley could edit your blogs, low hanging fruit, into stand alone narrative non fiction (I’ve been told it’s all the rage in literary circles) your blogs are that good. Mike Manley’s days at PAFA as an experienced illustrator among students makes for particularly great reading.
Congratulations! What wonderful news. The playhouse is beautiful!
Interesting the plague returns 102 years later…
Tony:
Your note made my weekend, my month.
Good. So good.
Onward, brother.
Dan
Good morning Tony,
Great, great news on the clean scan. An unsolicited amateur opinion, take it slowly. Oh wait, you’re already splitting wood – forget the opinion.
It’s great how you spend time with your granddaughter – getting her to camp out and do the painting herself builds character. Kids who do things have so much more self confidence.
Take care,
Dennis
Hey Tony-Man…..That is great news indeed…your post made my day!
I love the playhouse, particularly the red floor. I’m a little concerned that the snack tray actually looked good to me, although I prefer a sweet Gerkin, to a dill pickle. Do you think it has anything to do with the fact that restaurants have been closed for like, forever??? Anyway, looks like a great place to stop by for a snack, or maybe a spot of tea.
So glad you’re feeling better.
Babs
Mediterranean diet, isn’t that cowboy coffee and Fig Newtons?
Yay for you, the treatments, Pam and spaghetti squash! Love from Maine where the temps finally are above freezing…
I’m grateful the cancer has left the building. I’ll be thanking God. What delight for you to have shared your granddaughter’s first time of sleeping outdoors. I like the red floor. Pondering thoughts seeing the gravestone from 1918. Enjoyed the letter.
Happy to hear the good news on your cancer. Take it easy and enjoy your granddaughters and life!
Prayers finally answered. I’m gonna get me a good Tusker – Kenya’s finest beer – to celebrate. Here’s to you Tony! You’ve made my day.
Fig Newtons and pickles are great, says the man here who eats peanut butter with Miracle Whip and both on liverwurst. I kid you not. So Fig Newtons and pickles hell yeah!!! Glad you punched that cancer right in the nose, and keep on going my friend. May you always have the good sign of The Phantom watching over you. 🙂 Live large my friend.
💗💗💗💗this
Great news, Tony! I always knew a little cancer wouldn’t keep a good man down. I’m glad you’re getting so much time to spend with your granddaughter. It’s the best, isn’t it? As for diet, I stopped eating meat 14 years ago. I have the energy of a 67-year-old. (I turned 68 last week!) Take it easy — but take it.
Awesome news Tony! It’s nice to hear something good. The Mediterranean diet is the way to go! Happy for you.
Way to go my friend……Bob
Tony, I am happy, Happy, HAPPY for you! Go ahead and sneak a cheese steak. No matter in the grand scheme of things as they currently are. In that extra minute you might live by NOT having it, well, you might actually have the extra time to regret NOT having had that cheese steak. Do whatever you wish. You’ve defied the odds more than most. (You should also listen and respect your significant other when she’s watching). Don’t tell anyone I’ve offered this “advice”. It’s likely to be controversial and get me flamed on the interwebs. ;o) Cheers man!
Todd@Cogent
Good news Tony! We need that these days. Keep it up…
Very glad you have positive news on the cancer. Get back on the road – it has broad medicinal value.
Three weeks till we head out to our great western tour of the USA. Alaska will need to wait for another year. Have faith Tony, life on the Mediterranean Diet is actually good. I have been on for one year. Lots of energy and plenty of exercise, one year we will take a trip together!
I am so happy Tony
I know you were made of hardy stock. Sending a high🖐
Great news Tony!!!
Start the wrenching and you’ll get the itch to ride out in no time. Keep safe during this weird COVID. Thanks for sharing the good news, more speed and millions more miles to you. Best – Prasad
Yup. Never any doubt about the chemo-cleanser. Get strong amigo, we have to saddle up once more.
You said it. Life goes on. That’s a very good thing.
Am very glad to hear the DePaul “Phantom tales” will not be concluding anytime soon. Am looking forward to trying to predict what twist or turn in the Phantom’s life will spring forth from the DePaul sub-conscience. So far you are totally unpredictable…
Tony bats 1000.
So that ole unwashed cranky biker is a sweet grandfather for D1D1. Teaching her to love the outdoors, camping, etc. A study in contrasts, having pretend tea with one hand while splitting oak stumps with a sledgehammer in the other.
Great news on all fronts. Next Piggy trip you can revisit real food. Stay safe, my friend.
Interesting post. I like old graveyards – is a family thing! Love seeing life pictures with the kiddies even better! Thanking you-know-who for your good report. Trusting your strength grows daily and you stay clear of the bug! You may make it back to our neck of the woods yet! Cheerio!
Forests of the World: When Tony gets all of his strength back, watch out! Up to now, he’s only been able to finish off one oak tree. You’ve got just six months….
What a welcome report from the world of medicine.
Fig Newtons and pickles?
You only go this way once, my late aunts used to say.
“Nobody ever lives their life all the way up except bullfighters” doesn’t have to be true.
The golden years are next.
Was thinking about you and how things were going last night as I drove from Southeast Iowa back toward home.
Be well, my friend.
Matt
Adel, Ia.