Lawyers On Drugs

During biochemotherapy treatments, my cocktail of side effects meds included Ativan, Zofran, Compazine, Dopamine, Thorazine, Demerol and that’s not all. (That’s material for a rap song, but I am SO not going there.) It was a potent cocktail that really addled my brain and caused me to do some things for which I don’t accept responsibility—like trying to take an unauthorized shower with two IV pumps in tow. And, fortunately, my saintly nurses didn’t hold me responsible either or else one of them just might have considered euthanasia.


With my deepest apologies to the nursing staff at The University of Colorado Hospital’s critical care oncology unit, the Hotel Melanoma version of Jackson Browne’s “Lawyers In Love”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBHoMvq_tmY&feature=related


I can't keep up with what's been going down
I think my brain must just be slowing down
Among the human beings in their hospital greens
Am I the only one who fears the schemes
And the tangled wiles of lawyers on drugs


Rich sends his chaplain to hysteria, she’s dutiful
She stands at six o'clock and there he are, not beautiful
Cheating those UV rays, tuned into sports for days
Waiting for drug round III while nurses slave
To the help bell calls of lawyers on drugs


Last night they called Code Blues in Eight East town, near capital
The patient escaped while they weren't watching him, like patients will
Now they’ve got him in room, they've even stopped his swoon
And I hear the new hospital will be open soon
As infusion land for lawyers on drugs


Lawyers on drugs…
Lawyers on drugs...

The Smoking Gun

One of the many reasons that I went wrong as a youth and became a lawyer rather than a medical doctor is that basic chemistry, physics and biology seemed like magic to me. So most of a recent article about an exciting breakthrough in melanoma research flew right past me. But the gist of it seems to be that researchers at MD Anderson have found three genetic mutations they describe as the first 'smoking gun' genomic evidence directly linking damage from UV light to melanoma.


This discovery could ultimately lead to new melanoma treatments that target these melanoma-driving gene mutations. And talk about an “inconvenient truth” for the indoor tanning industry shills, like our good friend Dr. Joseph “Carcinoma” Mercola, who are selling allegedly healthy and safe tans. Although I’m sure they’ll deny this new evidence and continue telling lies to teenagers. The industry denies the epidemiological evidence linking tanning to an increased risk of melanoma, so why let new facts get in the way of sales? All I know for sure is that if I was a plaintiff’s lawyer specializing in products liability litigation, I’d be licking my chops over this new scientific evidence that exposure to UV light causes melanoma.

For all of you purveyors of carcinogens in the indoor tanning industry, especially, Dr. Carcinoma, The Hotel Melanoma version of the Eagles’ “Lyin’ Eyes”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5-NlR54PqLw


Pretty girls just seem to find out early
How to open doors with just a smile
A rich bold tan
And she won't have to worry
She'll dress up all in lace and prom in style


Later times the big old moles grow boldly
I guess every form of refuge has its price
And it breaks her heart to think her life is only
Given to a tanning scam as cold as ice


So you told her she must brown out for the D thing
That sun bed’s her old friend when feelin' down
But you know where she's goin' with skin C thing
She is headed for the grievin' side of brown


You can't hide your fryin’ lies
And your guile is a thing despised
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your fryin’ lies


On the other side of brown Yervoy is waiting
with surgeon’s knives and scars no one could heal
C drives on through her life so agitating
'Cause C makes her rue the rays you said would heal


She rushes to doc’s arms; they talk together
He whispers that life’s only for awhile
She swears that soon she'll be wearin’ black forever
She pulls the rays and leaves him with a smile


You can't hide your fryin' lies
And your guile is a thing despised
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't now way to hide your fryin' lies


She gets up and pours herself a strong one,
And stares out at the stars up in the sky.
Another night, it's gonna be a long one.
She draws the shade and hangs her head to cry.


She wonders how it ever got this crazy.
She thinks about your ploys you used to fool.
Did she buy lies or did she just get lazy?
She's so far gone she feels just like a fool.


My oh my, U sure knows how to mutate things.
U sets it up so well, so carefully.
Ain't it funny how your new lies didn't change things?
You're still the same old churl you used to be.


You can't hide your fryin’ lies
And your guile is a thing despised
I thought by now you'd realize
There ain't no way to hide your fryin’ lies
There ain't no way to hide your fryin’ lies
Doc C, you can't hide your fryin’ lies

Wrote It In A Blog Song

Just dreamin’ about busting out of The Hotel Melanoma, with my rendition of The Marshall Tucker Band’s “Heard It In A Love Song”…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MUL68ZeclcA

I have nine years lived in Hotel M, long enough
For the food to get old
We've been together so long now
We’re both green with mold


If I ever settle down
You're not my kind
And it's a good time for me
To head on down the line


Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Can't be wrong


I'm the kinda man likes to get his way
Like to start scheming about
Tomorrow, today
Always said that I’d leave you
Even though it's blow
Where's that golf club bag of mine?
It's time to go


Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Can't be wrong


I'm gonna be ‘screening
At the break of dawn
Wish I could sun
But I don't need no more tans lagging a bomb
I'll sneak out your door
Couldn't stand to stay ‘til die
I'd stay another year if I saw a teardrop in doc’s eye


Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Can't be wrong


I EVER had the tan thing, but what I had
I had to leave it behind
U’s the hardest thing
I ever tried to get off my hide
Always some skin ‘screener on the every side of this kid
I was born an anglo and a freckler
And I guess I should have hid


Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Wrote it in a blog song
Can't be wrong

You're No Good

It’s just another day at The Hotel Melanoma, filled with news of younger mole mates in fights for their lives with stage 4 melanoma. Scans and scanxiety, searing pain, aggressive and brutal chemotherapy, fear, grief, hope, anger, acceptance and defiance. And another day for older and luckier folks like me to ask “why?” Oy.


The Hotel Melanoma version of Linda Ronstadt’s “You’re No Good”…



Feeling better now that we’re through
Feeling better ‘cause I'm over you
I've learned my lesson it left some scars
Now I see how you really are


You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good (I'm gonna say it again)
You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good


You broke young hearts so gentle and true
Well you broke some hearts over suntans baked through
I'll beg for their fitness on bended knees
I wouldn't blame them if they said to C


You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good (I'm gonna say it again)
You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good


I'm telling you now ray C that we’ll beat you some day
Forget about me ray C cause I'm ‘screening those rays


You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good (I'm gonna say it again)
You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good
You're no good, you're no good, you're no good ray C, you're no good

When Will Pale Be Loved?

Breaking news, film at eleven, but life ain’t fair. A guy my age can look like a sun-weathered old saddlebag and audition for a gig as the Marlboro Man. But a woman “of a certain age” who’s spent too much unprotected time in the sun in pursuit of that ‘healthy tan’ just looks older than she’d like to. Let's hope that our society’s conceptions of beauty are slowly changing-- back to what they were in the 19th Century and before when a suntan was distinctly “lower class”-- and some day soon no young woman will think she has to alter her natural skin tone to be considered pretty.


I’ll sign off with some new lyrics to Linda Ronstadt’s rendition of The Everly Brothers song “When Will I Be Loved”…



I've been treated
When skin heated
When will pale be loved


I've been put down
I've been ‘fused rounds
When will pale be loved


When I spy a new tan
That is one land mine
C always breaks my heart in two
It happens every time


I've been Code Blue
I've been fried too
When will pale be loved


When you have a new scan
That don’t look so fine
C always breaks your heart in two
It happens every time


Oh, I've been treated
When skin heated
When will pale be loved
When will pale be loved
Tell me, when will pale be loved

Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

Most of my peer group of grumpy older white guys won’t go anywhere near Facebook. After years of swearing that I never would either, I took the plunge about eighteen months ago, hoping to stay in better touch with far-flung people I actually know and to connect with the melanoma community. I’ve succeeded in doing both, and am especially grateful that I’ve ‘met’ some wonderful folks who understand life at The Hotel Melanoma.


But at times I also find Facebook to be a very, very strange world indeed. Oh, the drama and incivility one encounters there. And the degree of disclosure of intimate details of personal lives sometimes takes my breath away. Ah, the ever-present temptation to post first and think second, which I’ve succumbed to more than I’d care to admit.

And then there’s the loopy stranger factor. E.g., yesterday I dared to express the opinion (on my personal wall) that the easy availability of semiautomatic guns and high-capacity ammo magazines facilitated Friday’s mass shooting in Aurora. Some gun-hugging twit I’m not even “friends” with told me I should leave the country if I didn’t agree with its current gun laws (although I think he was referring to the lack thereof).

But, all in all, I still think that Facebook is more good than bad, more interesting than banal, and a means of maintaining fragile personal connections with far-flung friends and relatives and of forging new bonds with one’s “affinity group” of melanoma patients, AR-15 assault rifle toters, or whatever. So I guess I’ll stay, if only to stay connected with my new mole mates. Although I’ll be making strategic use of the “edit subscription” and “privacy controls” functions.

I'll end this rant with my version of Jimmy Buffett’s “He Went To Paris”…



He went to Facebook lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so
He was un-festive, old and obsessive
Savin' the moles on his own


But the norm bummer screeches
The news whines and breaches
Put his ambition at bay
The stunners and primpers
Flattered “like” winners
And four or five hours slipped away


Then he joined some M groups, played the survivor
And pondered some questions so grim
He met some fine kinds, C took some good lives
And tore them from young ones by whim


And all of the answers and all of the questions
Locked in his attic one day
'Cause he liked the quiet, clean mountain livin'
And twenty more hours slipped away


Well C war took some babies, C bombs killed young ladies
And left kids with only one sire
Some bodies were battered, the mel world was shattered
And all he could do was just cry


While the tears were a-fallin' he was recallin'
Answers he never found
So he blogged on still later, pimpin’ Mercola
And left M land with loud new sounds


Now he lives in the mountains, swishes some 9-irons
And drinks his Green Label each day
Postin’ his updates, losin' his bearings
But he don't care what most people say


Through fifty-nine years of ineffectual motion
If he likes you he'll smile and he'll say
"matey, some of it's magic, some of it's tragic
But I’ve had a good life all the way"


And he went to Facebook lookin' for answers
To questions that bothered him so

A Sparse Menu At The Hotel Bar

The phrase “Better Living Through Chemistry” is a variant of an old advertising slogan used by DuPont to promote its chemical products.  I’ve grown fond of using my own twist on the slogan, “Better Living Through Toxic Chemistry”, to describe my experiences with one of the most toxic melanoma treatment regimens—biochemotherapy.

According to results of a 400-patient trial reported this week at the annual meeting of the American Society of Clinical Oncology, biochemotherapy is the first and only adjuvant therapy to demonstrate a significant improvement in relapse-free survival compared to high-dose interferon in stage III melanoma patients. (Read the full article here.)  For reasons I probably shouldn’t disclose in this public medium the docs who performed biochemotherapy on yours truly chose not to participate in this particular study, but remain convinced that the regimen is a better option than interferon for some high-risk stage III melanoma patients. Like me. And, since I’m approaching nine years of relapse-free survival, I’ll “second that emotion”.


DuPont I'm not and I’m not trying to sell you anything. But if biochemotherapy is on your menu of treatment options as an alternative to interferon, I’d be more than happy to talk with you one-on-one about this grand adventure from the patient’s perspective.

My hope and prayer is that some day soon, high-risk stage III patients will have a lengthier treatment menu with more effective and less toxic options to choose from. Meanwhile, I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Into The Great Wide Open” by Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xqmFxgEGKH0


Richie waited ‘til he started to drool
He went to Doctor Good, got some scans too
He met a cure up there that sounded quite new
His future was wide open


He moved into a place he’d loathe to afford
He found a night nurse she would block him at door
He had a PICC line and two pumps with long cords
Outside was off limits


Into the great fright dopin’
Wonders why fried as youth
Caught in the great fright dopin’
A patient without a clue


The doctors said Rich always played well his part
He scared some res’dents and a nurse aide named Barb
They made some records and they went in his charts
Drug highs had their limits


His two IV pumps had bells that would jingle
They both were IV stars, pharmas were mingled
His heart crash cart man said, "I don’t hear a single."
His future was wide open


Into the great fright dopin’
Wonders why fried as youth
Caught in the great fright dopin’
A patient without a clue


Into the great fright dopin’
Wonders why fried as youth
Caught in the great fright dopin’
A patient without a clue


Into the great fright dopin’
Wonders why fried as youth
Caught in the great fright dopin’
A patient without a clue


Into the great fright dopin’
Wonders why fried as youth
Caught in the great fright dopin’
A patient without a clue

Running From UV

Just my rendition of Jackson Browne’s “Running On Empty”…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJYRtOPUonA


Doctors frown at my moles, blushing head to my heels
Looking back at the years gone by like so many summer peels
In '65 I was just a teen and sunning up, oiled a ton
I don't know why I'm blogging now, I'm just blogging on


Sunning’s gone – running from UV
Sunning’s gone – saving hide
Sunning’s gone - running out of the sun
’Cause my sunning’s behind


Gotta do what you can just to keep yourself alive
Trying not to infuse it with drugs you use to survive
In '69 I got plenty sun and I called sun oil my own
I don't know when that road turned onto the road I'm on


Sunning’s gone – running from UV
Sunning’s gone – saving hide
Sunning’s gone - running out of the sun
’Cause my sunning’s behind


Everyone I know, everywhere I go
People need some reason to sunscreen
I don't know about any fun from C
If it takes some fright, that'll be all right
If I can get you to pale before I grieve


Looking down at my moles, checking under my heels
I don't know how to tell you all just how crazy this life feels
I look around for the friends that I used to turn to to pull me through
Looking into their fries I see them sunning too


Sunning’s gone – running from UV
Sunning’s gone – saving hide
Sunning’s gone - running out of the sun
’Cause my sunning’s behind


UV you really tempt me
You know the way you look so kind
I'd love to stick around but my tanning’s behind
You know I don't even glow but I'm looking so fine
Running out of the sun ‘cause my tanning’s behind

Hypochondria Rock

Nearly twenty years ago when I was in far better shape and ambitiously adventurous, I went on a five-day mountain bike trip in Canyonlands National Park in Utah. I learned a lot of things on that trip (like I can’t race guys who are ten or fifteen years younger) but one that’s stuck with me is the importance of adequate hydration when exercising in heat and high altitude. The group’s slightly annoying riding guides were constantly quizzing us about the color of our urine (if it isn’t clear you need to be drinking more water) because we were a very, very long ways away from emergency medical treatment in Moab and the last thing they needed on their hands was a seriously dehydrated rider.


You may be asking yourself by now what, if anything, this has to do with melanoma. Well, I’ve been feeling pretty ill the past several days and, being Mr. Paranoid Hypochondriac, was starting to think I needed to call Dr. Death and cry wolf. But then I finally realized what was really going on—that I’d managed to get myself very dehydrated out on the links and walking trails on hot and dry summer days. Will this old dog ever learn that he can have routine medical ailments completely unrelated to melanoma? Oy.

Oh, dear melanoma, you may have made me slightly crazy but you are NOT going to win this fight. To the tune of The Cars’ “You Might Think”…



You might make me crazy
From hanging ‘round with you
Maybe you think I'm lucky
To have nothing that’s new
But I think ‘bout your guile
And inside me you’ve run wild
You might make me foolish
And maybe that’s one truth
You might make me crazy
But all you’ve done is through


You might make me hysterical
But I’ve glowed from your heat
I think you're in my boonies
And ever hide so deep
So I think ‘bout your guile
Then you crash my fragile smile
You might make me foolish
Then I think you blew
You might make me crazy
But all you’ve done is through


And it's so hard to take
There's no escape from out sun’s bake
You kept me glowing ‘til the drugs went down
You kept me glowing


You might make me delirious
Some days I hunt you down
But somewhere sometime
When I’m furious
I'll beat black around
And I think that you're wild
And so uniquely guiled
You might make me foolish
This chancy bout with you
You might make me crazy
But all you’ve done is through

Where Did Our Sun Go?

A vacuous blond twit recently appeared on ABC’s Good Morning America and said that even a “skin cancer” diagnosis wouldn’t stop her daily indoor tanning routine. (Please watch the interview at http://gma.yahoo.com/blogs/abc-blogs/extreme-tanner-says-skin-cancer-wouldnt-stop-her-124440189--abc-news-health.html.) “Scrape it off and keep going” were her words, which display a stunning level of ignorance about the melanoma risk to which she’s exposing herself. Part of me hopes she doesn’t have to someday eat those words and join the Paler Nation here at The Hotel Melanoma. But my evil twin can’t help but wonder whether in her case a melanoma diagnosis just might be nature’s way of cleansing the human gene pool.


Do I wish that I could still enjoy time outdoors without drowning myself in sunscreen and wearing more clothes than are comfortable on a summer’s day on the links or hiking trail? You betcha I do. But, like everybody at this Hotel, I’ve learned the very hard way I can’t “scrape it off and keep going”. Let’s all hope Miss Twit doesn’t someday learn that same hard lesson.

I’ll sign off with my fractured version of The Supremes’ “Where Did Our Love Go”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DlgHudEv_VA


UV, UV
UV don't leave me
Ooh, please don't leave me
All fried myself


I've got this yearning, burning
Yearning demon inside me
Ooh, deep inside me
And it hurts so bad


U came into my parts
So stealthily
With a burning sun
That stings, yikes it’s C


Now that I’ve surrendered
To “just skin C”
You now wanna grieve
Ooh, you wanna grieve me


Ooh, Black C, Black C
Where did my sun go?
Ooh, don't you haunt me
Don't you haunt me no more


Ooh, Black C
Black C, Black C
Where did my sun go?
And all false promises
Of a cure forever more


I've got this yearning, burning
Yearning demon inside me
Ooh, deep inside me
And it hurts so bad


Before U stunned my heart
U were a perfect fry
But now that U got me
U gonna leave me behind
UV, UV, ooh UV


Black C, Black C won’t leave me
Ooh, C won’t leave me
All by myself


Ooh, Black C, Black C
Where did our sun go?

The Bloggin' Blues

Just The Hotel Melanoma rendition of The Allman Brothers Band’s “Whippin’ Post”…




I've been sun brown
I've been fried through
And I don't know why ... I let that mean sun tan make me a fool
C took all my money ... wrecked my few pars
Now C’s skinned some of my sun-fried buddies ... they're sinkin’ in some boss brown scars
Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel ... like I've been tied to the bloggin' post
Tied to the bloggin' post
Tied to the bloggin' post
Good Lord I feel like I'm smilin'


My docs tell me ... that I've been such a fool
And I have to stand by and take that Black C ... all for lovin' U
I drown myself in chemo ... as I look at what U’s done
But nothin' seems to change ... my bad rhymes stay the same ... and I can't sun
Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel ... like I've been tied to the flippant post
Tied to the flippant post
Tied to the flippant post
Good Lord I feel like I'm smilin'


Sometimes I feel
Sometimes I feel ... like I've been tied to the flippant post
Tied to the flippant post
Tied to the flippant post
Good Lord I feel like I'm smilin’

Forever Tan

I received my excessive UV ray exposure-- that almost certainly contributed to my hatching melanoma at age 50-- the “natural” way. Outdoors. Biochemotherapy treatments knocked off so many of the melanin cells in my body that now I couldn’t get a tan even if I were dumb enough to try. So now I’m like the annoying reformed smoker who quit way too late, nagging folks about the risks of doing exactly what I used to love doing. And you’re just going to have to live with it.

A tanned corpse is still a corpse, so please don’t get your “forever tan” like I almost did.

The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Eric Clapton’s “Forever Man”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bt2qBm4qS4w


How many times must I tell you babe,
How many Rich’s fries got to cost?
How many times must I explain myself
Before I can ‘block you from loss,
'Fore I can ‘block you from loss?

How many times must I say I love you
Before you finally under-tan?
Won't you be my forever pale one?
My fries could be my forever tan,
Fried could be your forever tan.

How many times must I say I love you
Before you finally under-tan?
Won't you be my forever pale one?
My fries could be my forever tan,
Fried could be your forever tan.

Forever tan, forever tan, forever tan.
Forever tan, forever tan, forever tan.
Fried could be your forever tan.

Forever tan, forever tan, forever tan.
Forever tan, forever tan, forever tan.
Fried could be your forever tan.

The "I Believe" Button

A lot of folks at The Hotel Melanoma have participated in clinical trials. In my case, it was neoadjuvant biochemotherapy following a Stage IIIc diagnosis with fourteen malignant lymph nodes. I’ve since learned that I seem to be a member of a fairly small club, because some (and maybe a lot of) melanoma docs see biochemo as the equivalent of using a flamethrower to defrost a refrigerator. They’re entitled to their opinion, but it apparently worked for me and I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Better living through toxic chemistry…


One of my neighbors is a former test pilot. He once told me that in that line of work there comes a time when a pilot has to punch the “I Believe” button and trust that the aircraft will do what its designers say it will do-- and be the first, and possibly last, pilot to put the aircraft through a particular maneuver. I chuckled and responded that I thought that perhaps I did something similar when electing to participate in a clinical trial.

For all of you who’ve punched the “I Believe” button, here’s my version of The Youngbloods’ “Get Together”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OCiLxRCBf40&feature=fvwrel




Cure is what we long to bring,
And fear's what makes us try
You can quake in loud scan ring
Or make the bad cells die
Know the drug is on the thing
And you need not know why


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now


Some will come and some will go
C shall surely pass
When the one that left us here
Returns for us at last
We are but a moment in time
Fading into past


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now

If you hear the song I sing,
You must under-tan
You hold the key to health and years
All in your trembling hand
Just sunscreen unlocks them both
It's there at your command


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now


C'mon people now,
Trials are one mother
Everybody get together
Try one drug or another right now

Right now
Right now!

Simply So Resistible

Just The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Robert Palmer’s “Simply Irresistible”…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UrGw_cOgwa8


How can it be permissible
C compromised my pigment cells, yeah yeah
Safe kind of sun is mythical
C’s tanning thing that’s typical


C’s a craze you’d remorse, C’s a powerful force
You’re obliged to get dosed when there’s no other course
Tan used to look good to me, but now I find it


Simply so resistible
Simply so resistible


C’s cunning is so powerful, Huh
It’s simply sun-avoidable Oh, oh
Pale trend is irreversible
This mole man’s not invincible


C’s a natural law, and C leaves me in awe
C deserves my applause, won't surrender because
C tried to get rid of me, but now I find it


Simply so resistible
Simply so resistible


Simply so resistible C’s not kind, there’s no tellin’ where my money went
Simply so resistible C’s land mine, there’s another way to go


C’s so avoidable, protect against old Sol
C gives me feelings like I never felt before
C’s taking prom misses, C’s quaking UV awe
Tan used to look good to me now I find it


Simply so resistible C’s not kind, there’s no tellin’ where my money went
Simply so resistible C’s land mine, there’s another way to go Whoa


C’s methods are inscrutable
The proof is irrefutable, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
C’s so completely missable, huh
Our lives are irreplacable Whoa yeah


C’s a craze you’d remorse, C’s a powerful force
You’re obliged to get dosed when there’s no other course
Well tan used to look good to me, but now I find it


Simply so resistible C’s not kind, there’s no tellin’ where my money went
Simply so resistible C’s land mine, there’s another way to go


Simply so resistible C’s not kind, there’s no tellin’ where my money went
Simply so resistible C’s land mine, there’s another way to go


Simply so resistible

Pink Fatigue Rock

I’ll confess that I find all cancer “awareness” campaigns, including my own little Quixotic efforts, to be slightly annoying. I don’t think any awareness campaigner, including myself, really believes that “their” cancer is any more important and deserving of funding than anyone else’s. But the message I get when forced to watch a bunch of NFL hulks running around in pink cleats is that pink matters, black doesn’t. The unfortunate truth is that everyone living at The Hotel Carcinoma is, directly or indirectly, competing in a race for research bucks for their personal brand of cancer that lives depend on. More awareness, more donations. It’s really that simple.


On November 17, a respectable number of residents of The Hotel Melanoma will be participating in a run/walk event in Charlotte, North Carolina to raise funds for Aim at Melanoma.  I suspect our little band will be dwarfed by the pink hoards we’ll all be seeing in Pinktober, but it’s a start. If you can join us, please do. If you can’t, please sponsor a participant.

Just in case we need another rock anthem for November, here’s my version of The Rolling Stones’ “Paint it Black”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1zBG2TEjn4&feature=related

I see a pink hoard and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls jog by dressed in their runnin’ clothes
I have to turn my head until awareness grows


I see long line of scars and they're all tainted black
With warriors and my sun both never to come back
I see people turn their heads and quickly look away
Like the U-born Black C it just happens every day


I look inside myself and see my heart’s with black
I see hot pink hoard and must have it painted black
Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to raise greenbacks
It's not easy palin' up when your whole world is black


No more will my envy go burn at pinker hues
I could just foresee this thing happening to you


If I work hard enough into November run
My docs will laugh at C before the mournin' comes


I see a pink hoard and I want it painted black
No colors anymore I want them to turn black
I see the girls jog by dressed in their runnin’ clothes
I have to turn my head until awareness grows


Hmm, hmm, hmm,...


I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black


Yeah!


Hmm, hmm, hmm,...

Mercolanoma Rap

It’s been a while since I’ve done one for my favorite snake oil salesman and purveyor of carcinogens, ‘Dr.’ Mercolanoma. Wishing you all a joyous and sun-safe Independence Day, here’s The Hotel Melanoma version of George Thorogood & The Destroyers’ “Who Do You Love”…


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C5Aabx80gV4&feature=related



You’ve blogged forty-seven kinds of cow pies, you got a cobra snake for a website
A grand big house on the rich side, and it's a-made out of teenage kids’ hide
Got your brand of UV that you sell non-stop, and it's a-made lots of humans skulls
Come on have a little talk with Doc Ozzy, and tell me U do you love!
U do you love!
You do you love!


Now to hound the brown you use your rattlesnake lips, make it sleazy Joey won't you give me health tips
U do you love!
You do you love!


You’ve got a tombstone hand and a graveyard mind, you lust money’s hue and you don't mind lying
U do you love!
U do you love!
You do you love!


Mercola hook a-me by fine scam, he said " brown some, gorge, you can’t under-tan,
U do you love!"
His hide were dark and his lies just flew, “brown the healthy way with home tan bed new”
Get a bump ‘cause nobody ‘screened, you should've turned your hide green
U do you love!
You do you love!
U do you love!
You do you love!


Yeah, you’ve got a tombstone hand and a graveyard mind, lust money’s hue baby you don't mind lying
Baked skin blues, Doc C sell them on the street, hawk your sunshine toxics and your mole deadly treat
Yeah, U do you love!
You do you love!


You’ve blogged forty-seven kinds of cow pies, you got a cobra snake for a website
A grand big house on the rich side, and it's a-made out of teenage kids’ hide
Got your brand of UV that you sell non-stop, and it's a-made lots of humans skulls
Come on have a little talk with Doc Ozzy, and tell me U do you love!
U do you love!
You do you love!

Navel Gazing Rock

It’s July 1 and Aim at Melanoma is telling me it’s time to do my monthly skin self-exam. I know these folks mean well, but I’ll pass. For one thing, I don’t like to look at my worn old carcass any more than I have to to shave etc. And for another, don’t these folks understand that we mole-covered paranoid hypochondriacs at The Hotel Melanoma are almost constantly obsessing over whether some spot on our hides is changing? Meh.


From Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers’, “You Wreck Me”…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B8m5p6V_NPQ&feature=related



Surprised I’m ‘live, nine years on
Surprised I’m pale, like my SPF strong
Infuse me, should C come ‘round
If I stay too long in Hotel town


Oh, yeah, you wreck me, Black C
You make me sing blues
But you move me, Sun C
Yes, you do


Now and again I get the feeling
Well if I don't win, I'm a gonna break even
Rescue me, should C go wrong
If it digs too deep, if it stays too long


Oh, yeah, you wreck me, Black C
You make me sing blues
But you move me, Sun C
Yes, you do


I'll be the boy in the SPF pants
You need a cure, that’s the vic’try dance
Sunscreen me, wherever I go
Docs play dumb, whatever they know


Oh, yeah, you wreck me, Black C
You make me sing blues
But you move me, Sun C
Yes, you do