Make Your Money And Run

Nike announced this week that it is ending its partnership with The Livestrong Foundation and will stop producing its Livestrong Collection of products after the Holiday 2013 line is shipped. I can understand why Nike ended its business relationship with Lance Armstrong in the wake of his doping scandal, but why Livestrong too? Armstrong no longer holds any official position with the very fine foundation he started and Livestrong’s good works to improve the lives of cancer survivors continue on. And, meanwhile, Nike merrily goes on producing and selling the Tiger Woods Collection of golf equipment and apparel, despite his public fall from grace. Apparently the Tiger Woods Collection continues to be quite profitable for Nike and they just aren’t making enough dough by playing the cancer card in selling the Livestrong Collection to cancer survivors and their supporters?

I own only one item of Nike golf stuff, a long-sleeved SPF 50 golf shirt I found on sale this spring. I won’t be buying any more. And any overpriced Nike golf balls I find out on the golf course will become the sacrificial balls I pull out of my bag when teeing off over water hazards. Not that Nike cares, but all I can do is vote with my checkbook; and I hope thousands of other cancer survivors will do the same.

To the tune of “Take The Money And Run” from Crosby & Nash...



Make your money and run
Like a cheat that played the cancer card
Make your money and run
Like I’m s’posed to like your style?
Make your money and run
'Cause you found out that this cancer’s hard
So make your money and run
Because we are out of sight
You cannot sell me any more lines
You cannot pull the wool over my eyes
Make your money and run

Make your money and run
'cause the Livestrong sales are sinking down
Make your money and run
'Cause us poor things ain’t your show
Make your money and run
'Cause your verdict has been handed down
Make your money and run
Because there's no space left to grow
You cannot give C any more time
You’re already makin’ too much on Tig’s
Make your money and run

Make your money and run
Like a cheat that played the cancer card
Make your money and run
Like the god of sporting lines
Make your money and run
Because you found out that this cancer’s hard
So make your money and run
Because we are out of sight
You cannot sell me any more lines
You've already taken too much from mine
Make your money and run

How To Play Golf With Melanoma

Some rather intriguing Google search queries lead to hits on this blog. A recent example is “how to play golf with melanoma”. The simple answer? Nothing like I play the game, unless you’re about to turn 60 like me and have aspirations to shoot your age in only nine holes and find fishing balls out of water hazards to be a relaxing hobby. Although you would do well to follow my lead in being the palest guy on the course. (If I played naked, and to the great relief of my playing partners I don’t, I could disappear in a white sand bunker.) Buy yourself some SPF golf duds, put some sunscreen in your bag and reapply it before you hit the back nine, and wear a cap and sunglasses. Otherwise, by the time you reach my advanced age you’ll have skin that looks like suitable raw material for a golf club grip.

Hoping I’ve answered at least some of this searcher’s questions, I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of John Mellencamp’s “Rumble Seat”…



All the leaves are green
All my trends are wrong
I'm swingin' in my mole gown
I can barely get along
I feel sorry for myself
That's an easy thing to do
I feel sorry for the world
I feel sorry for you
Yes I am a pitiful sight
I can't even get one swing right

I know just what it's like
To be hidin' from the sun in ‘screen
Yes I know just what it's like
To be a big time rider on the bogey streak

Well I could have a nervous breakdown
But I don't believe in shrinks
I should be drunker than a monkey
But I don't golf and drink
Call pro for cures
But I'm afraid of his tone
I'm always talkin' to myself
I guess I'm never alone
Am I the only one that feels this way
I'd buy myself some stylish clothes
But I sure hate to pay

I know just what it's like
To be hidin' from the sun in ‘screen
Yes I know just what it's like
To be a big time rider on the bogey streak

The sun is shining up
Just goin' to tenth
I lost five balls in the willows
Still got some dreams left
The back nine is a new day
Gonna make these dreams come true
I'm gonna believe in myself
I'll tell you what I'm gonna do
I'm gonna stop puttin' myself down
I'm gonna turn my slice around

I'll be hidin’ hide
With my ‘screen kicked up in the sun and heat
Yeah I’ll go for a drive
And I'll be swingin' hot some from that forward tee
Yes I'll show you a whiff
And I’ll be ridin' big time on my bogey streak

Don't Fry Day Rock

This Friday, May 24, is Don’t Fry Day. Although for most everyone living at the Hotel Melanoma, every day is don’t fry day. Take me, for example. I played a stinking round of geezer league golf today covered in SPF-protective clothing, ball cap, shades and sunscreen. And the way I was chipping and putting, I might as well have been wearing a SPF 50 bag over my head. Oy.

It’s just way too early in the day to drown my sorrows with a single malt scotch, so instead I’ve penned a new rendition of ZZ Top’s “Can’t Stop Rockin’”…



I heard about sunblock for some time, you know.
It's easy to do when you’ve C in mole.
Makes you want to pale up, makes you wanna prove you’re neat.
No matter how it's done you know it can't be beat.
'Cause I can't stop blockin',
no, I can't stop blockin'.
Well, I can't stop blockin',
baby, lest I lose my hide.

Somebody said pale’s wrong but I know it's all right,
when C really hits you like a shot in the night.
I'm never gonna stop as long as I can’t braise.
Listen to me now, can't you hear me say,
I can't stop blockin',
no, I can't stop blockin'.
Well, I can't stop blockin',
baby, lest I lose my hide.

I like to work it down low, I like to work it to the top.
And when I start blockin' I ain't never gonna stop.
Get yourself loose, get yourself high.
I love to feel the lotion and I'm tellin' you why.
'Cause I can't stop blockin',
no, I can't stop blockin'.
No, I can't stop blockin’
no matter what they do do do do do or say.
No matter what you do do do do do or say, no no.

Hell's Bells

Don’t get me wrong, I really do appreciate the melanoma education efforts of all of the melanoma nonprofit organizations, both large and small. Nevertheless, since checking into The Hotel Melanoma in ’03, I’ve gradually come to the firm conviction the most effective awareness building work is being done by real people who actually have melanoma (whether directly or through a loved one). We share our unedited stories with anyone who will listen, we drag friends and family members to those fundraising events that support the work of the nonprofits, and we do our best to disseminate melanoma education material from the nonprofits that almost nobody outside The Hotel Melanoma would otherwise see.

I know from personal experience that it isn’t easy or comfortable for any cancer warrior to ‘come out of the closet’ and talk openly and honestly about life at The Hotel Carcinoma. So for each and every one of you melahomies who are talking about melanoma this Melanoma Awareness Month and working to send this black beast down the highway to hell, here’s the Hotel Melanoma rendition of AC/DC’s ‘Hell’s Bells”…

I’m a rolling thunder, pourin’ pain.
I’m comin' down like a hurricane.
M0y lightning's flashing across the sky.
You're stalking young and you're gonna die.

I won't take no prisoners, won't spare yo’ life.
Mole buddy’s putting up a fight.
I got my bell, I’m gonna take you to hell.
I’m gonna get ya, Satan’s in ya.

Hell's Bells!
Yeah, Hell's Bells!
You got me ringin' Hell's Bells!
My temperature's high, Hell's Bells!

I'll give you black sensations up and down your spine.
Since you're into evil you're no friend of mine.
See my white hide flashing as I pick a fight.
'Cause tan bed’s on the left,
And I'm stickin' to the right.

I won't take no prisoners, won't spare yo life.
Mole buddy’s puttin' up a fight.
I got my bell, I'm gonna take you to hell.
I'm gonna get ya, Satan’s in you.

Hell's Bells!
Yeah, Hell's Bells!
You got me ringin' Hells Bells!
My temperature's high, Hell's Bells!

Hell's Bells!
Yeah, Hell's Bells!
You got me ringin' Hells Bells!
My temperature's high, Hell's Bells!

Hell's Bells, Satan's comin' to you.
Hell's Bells, he's ringing them now.
Hell's Bells, the temperature's high.
Hell's Bells, across the sky.
Hell's Bells, we’re takin' you down.
Hell's Bells, we’re draggin you around.
Hell's Bells, gonna pick a fight.
Hell's Bells, there's no place to hide, yeah.
Ow, ow, ow, ow.
Hell's Bells!

Melanistas Rule

I think it’s fair to say that the grassroots community of folks who actually have melanoma (directly or though a loved one) made it quite clear to the American Academy of Dermatology that we really don’t like anyone messin’ with our designated cancer awareness color, BLACK. Having given AAD a pretty hard time myself over their ‘SPOT Cheetos’ campaign, it’s high time I acknowledged some things AAD is doing so very right. AAD and its member physicians are performing a huge public health service by supporting legislation that would restrict the use of tanning beds by kids under age 18 and refuting the quack science claims of the tanning coffin industry that their product is a safe source of vitamin D. So for that, I thank you. But I just couldn’t resist doing one more song, to the tune of AC/DC’s “Girl’s Got Rhythm”… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mt6RhEWMRFc I look around C world. I see some brilliant derms. But ain't one of them got. What my maties we’ve got. We’re stealin' the spotlight. Knocks me off my feet. We’re enough to start a landslide. Just a walkin' down the street. Wearing tutus so right. And looking dynamite. I like to style me out. No doubt about it can live without it. The derms got whippin’. The derms got whippin’. They got the black peeps whippin’. The derms got whippin’. C's like a lethal brand. Too deep for any tan. C gives me first degree. C really terrifies me. Drug me till I'm witless. Aching and sore. Enough to stop a freight train. Or start the Third World War. You know I'm losin' sleep. That it’s in too deep. Like my body needs blood. No doubt about it can live without it. The derms got whippin’. The derms got whippin’. They got the black peeps whippin’. The derms got whippin’. You know C moves like sin. And then C’s not ‘just skin’. It likes foolin’ drugs. No doubt about it can live without it. The derms got whippin’. The derms got whippin’. They got the black peeps whippin’. The derms got whippin’. You know they really got the whippin’. They got the black peep’s whippin’. Rock 'n' roll whippin’. The derms got whippin’.

A Man In Black

Some times, and my wife might say all of the time, I’m pretty slow on the uptake. For days and days, for the life of me I couldn’t understand why one certain medical organization would pick a happy and vibrant color, say it’s about promoting melanoma awareness, and then blow off negative feedback from the melanoma patient community. I mean, what healthcare organization with a lick of common sense would tell the breast cancer community to wear turquoise in October? Maybe it was the registered trademark symbol that provided a clue, but it finally dawned on me yesterday that this expensive marketing campaign has nearly nothing to do with increasing melanoma awareness and everything to do with increasing brand awareness for this organization and its doctor-members. “Melanoma Monday” is just a convenient vehicle for what it’s really all about: self-promotion.

Oh well, the folks who actually have melanoma (and I include here the caregivers who ‘have it’ indirectly through their loved ones, living and dead) will be wearing black, not just today but throughout this Melanoma Awareness Month of May. And not as a “fashion statement”, but as a symbol and conversation starter for what we really want to talk about: that melanoma is a potentially deadly beast, but the risk of getting it can be significantly reduced by staying out of those tanning coffins and using a bit of common sense sun protection when enjoying outdoor activities.

One of my melahomies referred yesterday to “going full Johnny Cash” in his outfit for today, so I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Man In Black”…



Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.

I wear the black for the orange tan, the freakin’ clown,
Livin' in the hopeless, leathered hide of brown,
I wear it for the survivor who has long paid for his fries,
But’s still scared because he's a victim of sun lies.

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words their mother said,
About the road to scanning mess through sunnin’ rare UVs,
Why, you'd think she's talking straight to you and me.

Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
With our heap of frightnin’ scars and tan-free moles,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who were left back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.

I wear it for the sick on a lonely road,
For the fearless ones whose bad drips are so bold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young friends.

And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believin' that next drug could turn the tide,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who tan fried,
Believin' that C’s all just on their hide.

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a fruit of fright.

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that every skin’s OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Til things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

Paint It Black

As near as I can tell, the American Academy of Dermatology’s “Spot Orange For Melanoma Monday” campaign is proving to be about as popular with the melanoma community as telling a bunch of Irish-Americans to wear pink at next year’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade. Please join us on Melanoma Black Monday, May 6, and paint it black! From the one and only Rolling Stones... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u6d8eKvegLI I see the orange bores and I want them painted black. No colors anymore I want them to turn black. I see the derms walk by dressed in their doctor 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 an orange 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 mean C go turn a Cheeto hue. I could not foresee this thing happening to you. If I block hard enough until the settin’ sun. My docs will laugh at C before the mournin' comes. I see the orange bores and I want them painted black. No colors anymore I want them to turn black. I see the derms walk by dressed in their doctor 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,...

Carpe Maius

Jordan here. It's Melanoma Awareness Month, and the only "fashion statement" I'm making is wearing black. Dogs get melanoma too, although I consider myself a short and furry human. And I don't think I look good in orange anyway. So, since you're probably not as furry as me, wear some freakin' sunscreen and a hat when you're out walking your best friend.