Blessedly Boring

Melanoma is an arbitrary and capricious bastard that kills one person every hour in The United States. But I’m apparently not going to be one of its casualties. And I don’t quite know what to make of that.

Eleven years out of biochemotherapy treatments- the primary ingredient of which was a boatload of Interleukin-2 in the convenient twenty-four hour bag- I’m a blessedly boring patient. Purely precautionary scans in April showed no evidence of metastatic disease. And over the past weeks and months I’ve begun, for the first time in over a decade, to contemplate the prospect of growing old.

Like, should I apply for Social Security benefits when I first become eligible to receive them in 2015 and “get it while I can”? Or should I wait until my “full retirement age” or beyond in hopes of receiving a bigger monthly check for a couple of decades or so? Should I “age in place” or move to one of those ‘Geezer Village’ patio home communities? What would it cost to install a stair lift to ferry me to my second floor master bedroom? Would it be possible to engineer a snow blower attachment for my motorized wheel chair? These are questions that it’s quite nice to have.

I’ve often wondered whether there’s something ‘special’ about my immune system or the DNA of my melanoma cells that would explain why IL-2 seems to have worked so very well for me but not at all for too many others. If so, I very much wish I could reduce it to a tasty liquid extract to be served at every Happy Hour at The Hotel Melanoma Lobby Bar.

Wishing all my melahomies a very medically boring 2015, and hoping the New Year will bring more treatment breakthroughs, I’ll sign off with another ode to melanoma to the tune of U2’s New Year’s Day…



All is quiet on New Year's Day
A world in white gets underway
I want to scream at you, flee from you night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day
On New Year's Day

I am free from you again
I will flee from you again

Plunder of blood red fry
A crowd has gathered, black with pride
Arms entwined, the chosen few
The newspapers says, says

Say it's true, it's true
We can break through
Though torn in two
We can be one

I, I will begin again
I, I will begin again

Oh, maybe the time is right
Oh, maybe tonight

I am free from you again
I will flee from you again

And so we are told this is the Golden Age
Bad moles are the reason for the wars we wage
Though I want to scream at you, scream at you night and day
Nothing changes on New Year's Day
On New Year's Day
On New Year's Day

'Tis the Season

You know, there’s just nothing that says “Happy Holidays” like a predawn road trip on a cold mid-December morning for a full-body skin check at my favorite cancer center. But I’ve got to get this medical stuff done before 2015 when my deductible will skyrocket, thank you so very much Mr. President. My skin checks in 2015 may have to consist of posting a series of intimate selfies and mole mug shots on the American Academy of Dermatology’s Facebook page and requesting comments. If anything needs biopsying , I think I could get Palmer’s vet to do the cutting, equally well and at a far lower cost.

Wish me luck. Until next time, here’s the Hotel Melanoma rendition of AC/DC’s “Mistress for Christmas”…



Tingle spells, tingle spells
Tingle all the day
I just can't wait till Christmas time
When I get moles checked on Friday

Easy come, easy go
Have a good time with Doctor Mole
Snippin' up high, snippin' down low
Glove'm and bleed'm, on with the show

Olay

Listen, I like signing forms in minimal dress
Money to spend with deductible mess
Get a date with the surgeon in dread
Gonna be in heaven with green as my meds

Said "Yeah"
He got it, I want it
They got it, I can't have it
But I want it, it don't matter
She got it, but I can't get it
I want a skin check for Christmas
I want a skin check for Christmas
I got it
Haha yeah
I want a skin check for Christmas
Gown On

Easy come, easy go
Snippin' high, snippin' low yeah

Alright
He got it, I want it
They got it, I can't have it
I want it, don't matter
She got it, and I can't get it -
Skin check (he got it, and I want it) Christmas
They got it, I can't have it
Skin check (I want it, it don't matter) for Christmas
She got it, and I can't get it
Skin check for Christmas

You know what I'm talkin' about
Skin check for Christmas
You better shut the door, you better shut the door
Skin check for Christmas
I want the surgeon with thread with tokes as my meds

Skin check for Christmas
I can feel you cutting down my old back
I lost some hide in your chamber sonny and didn’t yell

Lawyers, Drugs and Money

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been seeing a slew of cheesy cable TV ads from plaintiff’s lawyers who are soliciting lawsuit clients who’ve taken Viagra and subsequently been diagnosed with melanoma. (Not that they’re talking to me, I might add.) So what’s going on here and why aren’t we seeing a similar volume of ads aimed at melanoma patients who’ve used tanning beds?

A study published this past summer found that Viagra may increase a man’s risk for melanoma. To be precise, the study found that 4.3 of every 1000 men who didn’t take Viagra developed melanoma, compared to 8.6 of every 1000 men who did take Viagra. The study does not prove that Viagra causes melanoma—it only shows a statistical correlation between men who take Viagra and men who develop melanoma, a correlation that may be attributable to some yet-to-be-determined factor common to both Viagra users and melanoma patients.

Compare this single study to the much-larger body of scientific evidence cited in The Surgeon General’s Call to Action to Prevent Skin Cancer linking UV radiation exposure to an increased risk of skin cancer. In 2009, the World Health Organization (WHO) classified indoor tanning devices as Class I human carcinogens on the basis of strong evidence linking indoor tanning to increased risk of skin cancer. So why aren’t plaintiff’s lawyers showing a similar degree of zeal for soliciting clients for tanning bed lawsuits?

I strongly suspect the answer is a simple one: relatively easy money. Viagra is manufactured by Pfizer, a deep-pocketed defendant which reported net profits in 2013 of $22 billion. Big Pharma has a track record of paying out large sums of money in pre-trial settlements when confronted with thousands of claims that a drug caused injury, even when those claims are based on less-than-conclusive scientific evidence. Compare the financial lure to a plaintiff’s lawyer of a Viagra lawsuit against Pfizer to that of a melanoma patient who years ago frequented a variety of tanning beds that were made my several different manufacturers and operated by several different tanning salon owners which, relative to Pfizer, aren’t deep-pocketed defendants and may not even still be in business.

But I certainly haven’t given up hope and optimism that the indoor tanning industry will, sooner or later, find itself the target of a large volume of personal injury claims from thousands of former customers who contracted melanoma, lawsuits that may shrink or even sink this carcinogen-peddling industry. There are personal injury lawyers out there who appear to have a strong interest in representing melanoma patients who were injured by tanning beds. Just don’t hold your breath while waiting to see those lawyers advertising for clients on cable TV.

Until next time, here’s The Hotel Melanoma take on Warren Zevon’s “Lawyers, Guns and Money”…



They did roam for the plaintiffs
The way they always do
How was I to know
C was in the
Drug pill blue?

He was gagging on Viagra
He took a little risk
It’s lawyers, drugs and money
They'll get him out of this, hyeah

I'm the innocent fried tanner
Somehow I got stuck
Between a blog
And a hard case
And I'm down on my luck
Yes I'm down on my luck
Well I'm down on my luck

I'm hiding in long burkas
I'm a desperate man
It’s lawyers, drugs and money
The shit just hit the fan

All right
It’s lawyers, drugs and money
Huh!
Uh...
It’s lawyers, drugs and money
Uhh!
It’s lawyers, drugs and money
Hyah!
It’s lawyers, drugs and money
Ooh!
Yeah!
Yeah
Yeah...
Uh!

Wrinkled Man

No pontificating today, just The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Bad Company’s “Simple Man”…



I am just a wrinkled man, working
On the tanned, oh it ain't easy
I am just a wrinkled man, ‘smirking’
With my scans, oh believe me

Demon is the only thing means
A damn to me, oh you can't bake it
Demon is the only wrong, brings
A song for me, oh we're gonna take it

I am just a wrinkled man, trying
To beat C, oh it ain't easy
I am just a wrinkled man, trying to
Beat C, oh believe me

Demon is the only thing means
A damn to me, oh you can't bake it
Demon is the only wrong, brings
A song for me, oh we're gonna take it

I am just a wrinkled man, working
On the tanned, oh it ain't easy
I'm just a wrinkled man, ‘smirking’
With my scans, oh baby, believe me

I'm just a wrinkled man, yeah, yeah
Demon is the only thing means
A damn to me, I'm just a wrinkled man, yeah

The Wheel

As a melavangelist (and in my former life as a corporate lawyer) I’ve often felt like a rat on an exercise wheel-- working as fast and furiously as I’m able, but getting nowhere. But I keep plugging away at it, and I see so many melahomies doing the same.

I think I keep doing this because of the inspiration of folks like my melapal Donna, who just in the past few weeks has undergone a craniotomy, stereotactic radiosurgery, and open heart surgery to whack melanoma metastases that keep on popping up. And for people like my melahomies Sandy, Tara, and Cindy, who participated today in a melanoma fundraising walk/run on a chilly late fall morning.

Perhaps the general public will soon come to realize that melanoma really is cancer and begin to take the commonsense preventative measures that just might keep them from checking into The Hotel Melanoma. One can only hope. And try.

For Donna, and all of you who work tirelessly to increase melanoma awareness, here’s The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Jerry Garcia’s “The Wheel”…



The wheel is turning and you can't slow down
You can't let go and you can't hold on
You can't go back and you can't stand still
If the sunburns don't get you then the light things will

Won't you try just a little bit harder
Couldn't you try just a little bit more
Won't you try just a little bit harder
Couldn't you try just a little bit more

Browned, browned toxin, shun the browned
Gotta get black a new theme song
Little bit harder, just a little bit more
Little bit further than you gone before

Small wheel turning by the fryin’ squad
Big wheel turning by the grace of God
Every time that wheel turn round
Bound to cover just a little more ground

The wheel is turning and you can't slow down
You can't let go and you can't hold on
You can't go back and you can't stand still
If the sunburns don't get you then the light things will

Won't you try just a little bit harder
Couldn't you try just a little bit more
Won't you try just a little bit harder
Couldn't you try just a little bit more

Paling

Summer is over now, and I’ve successfully maintained my pale-as-a-Supermax-prison-inmate look. (And this is despite the fact that I spent a lot of time this past summer ‘on the beach’ at my favorite local golf course trying to learn how to consistently hit a proper bunker shot.) This is a very good thing because it’s about time to talk myself into getting naked at the dermatology clinic. A golfer tan and semiannual melanoma checks by a dermatologist just don’t mix, it seems.

Entering the season of ski goggle tan avoidance (it’s a tough life I lead), I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of a song that has always made me gag-- Christopher Cross’ “Sailing”…



Well it's not far down to terrified, at least it’s not for me
If the skin is white you can pale away and find tranquility
Oh the tan-less can do miracles, just you wait and see, believe me

It's not far to leather, leather land, reason to defend
And if the skin is white you can find the joy of innocence again
Oh the tan-less can do miracles, just you wait and see, believe me

Paling, takes me away
From where I've always spurred biopsies
Just sunscreen and pale skin to carry me
Soon I will be free

Vanity, it gets the best of me when I'm paling
All caught up in the leathery
Every cure is in infancy, won't you believe me?

Paling, takes me away
From where I've always spurred biopsies
Just sunscreen and pale skin to carry me
Soon I will be free

It's not far back to tanning spree at least it's not for me
But when the skin is white you can pale away and find serenity
Oh the tan-less can do miracles, just you wait and see, believe me

Paling, takes me away
From where I've always spurred biopsies
Just sunscreen and pale skin to carry me
Soon I will be free

A Cancerversary Song

Next month I’ll see my 11th “cancerversary” of completing biochemotherapy treatments after a Stage IIIc melanoma diagnosis and beginning a very blessed long run of NED status. But I doubt that I’ll be in a celebratory mood. All too many of the friends I’ve made at The Hotel Melanoma haven’t been as fortunate as I’ve been. Too much pain, too many unsuccessful treatments, and too many young lives cut short. And the utter unfairness of it all makes me want to ask God “WTF are you thinking?” Oy.

So when my cancerversary arrives, I don’t think I’ll know quite how to mark the day. Maybe I’ll just lay low, contemplate the journey and the roads I’ve traveled, and try to think of one good way to demonstrate gratitude for my dumb luck.

Until next time, I’ll sign off with an un-altered new song from Bob Seger, “All of The Roads”…



All of the roads I've run
All of the faces I've left in my wake
Hopin' to leave my mark
Hopin' I gave and I didn't just take
Climbing a mountain many are left behind
Chasing a dream and seeing the world takes time

If you were in my world
If you could feel all the things that I feel
Maybe you'd understand
Every mirage has a certain appeal
After the thrill it's off to indifferent rooms
After the lights the darkness is coming soon
I've done it all before
And I have gone through every door
And I've been right down on the floor and more

All of the roads I've run
All of the years that have fallen away
Light from a distant star
Crossing the void and arriving one day
Oceans of space defending the great unknown
Sooner or later all of us head for home

All of the roads I've run
All of the roads I've run
All of the roads I've run
All of the roads I've run

Black Is A Color Too

In scientific terms, black absorbs light and is an absence of color-- it is the visual impression experienced when no visible light reaches the eye. And black seems not to be a visible cancer awareness color in the eyes of the business world, which evidently will pinkwash just about any product in an effort to polish corporate images and sell more stuff and then promptly forget about cancer for the next eleven months. Much to the chagrin of the melanoma community, black is apparently an ‘absence of color’ even to cancer awareness advocacy organizations like the American Cancer Society and the American Academy of Dermatology, which seem to prefer more marketable and happy ‘true’ colors like pink and orange.

Here in Colorado, Pinktober began with the Denver Post publishing an entire daily edition in pink, purportedly to increase breast cancer awareness but more likely to increase advertising sales for that special edition. I’d like to think the Post’s thirty other regular black-and-white editions published in October are intended to increase melanoma and lung cancer awareness, but I’d be so wrong.

But despair not, melanistas, for black in our discerning eyes is a color too; and our grassroots melanoma advocacy efforts are gaining traction and shining a visible light upon The Beast. Black will never be as pretty as pink in the eyes of consumer products marketers willing to use cancer to make a buck, but would any of us really want that?

Until next time, I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of Grand Funk Railroad’s “Some Kind Of Wonderful”…



I don't breed a whole lot of money
I don't need more big wide scars
I got everything that a tan could launch
I got more than I could ask for
I don't have to sun around
I just have to pale out all white
'Cause I got me a fleet, a fleet, crushin' demon
And she knows just how to beat me right
Well my Ray C, she’s all fright
Well my Ray C, she’s clean out-of-sight

Don't you know that she’s, she’s some kind of colorful
She's some kind of colorful, yes she is, she’s
She's some kind of colorful, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahhh

When I trolled her with fried arms
You know she sets my moles on fire
Oooh, when my Ray C ‘kisses’ me
My heart becomes filled with C fire
When she wraps her ‘lovin'’ arms around me
About drives me out of my mind
Yeah, when my Ray C ‘kisses’ me
Chills run up and down my spine
My Ray C, she’s all fright
My Ray C, she’s clean out-of-sight

Don't you know that she is she's some kind of colorful
She's some kind of colorful yes she is
She's some kind of colorful, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeahhh

Now is there anybody, got a fleet evil demon like mine?
There got to be somebody, got a, got a fleet evil demon like mine? Yeah
Can I get a skin check?
Can I get a skin check?
Can I get a skin check? Yeah
Can I get a skin check? Ohhh
Can I get a skin check? Yeah
Can I get a skin check? Yes
I'm talkin', talkin' 'bout my Ray C. Yeah
She's some kind of colorful
Talkin' 'bout my Ray C
She’s some kind of colorful
Talkin' 'bout my Ray C
She's some kind of colorful
I'm talkin' 'bout my Ray C, my Ray C, my Ray C
She's some kind of colorful
I'm talkin' about my Ray C, my Ray C, my Ray C
She's some kind of colorful
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, my Ray C, my Ray C
She's some kind of colorful
Talkin' 'bout my Ray C, my Ray C, my Ray C
She's some kind of colorful
I'm talkin' 'bout my Ray C, my Ray C, my Ray C
She's some kind of colorful

You Give Sun a Bad Name

It’s not exactly “breaking news” among residents of The Hotel Melanoma that melanoma incidence rates have been rising for at least the past thirty years. A new study recently published in the American Journal of Public Health identifies a number of cultural and historical factors in the past century that have led to increased exposure to UV light, which may explain rising melanoma incidence rates. Check it out here.

Until the turn of the 20th century, tanned skin was associated with lower class status and working outdoors performing manual labor. But by the mid-20th century attitudes had completely reversed and tanned skin started to be perceived as attractive and healthy. This old boomer bought into the notion that you have to be tanned to look good and healthy right up to the day of receiving a Stage 3c melanoma diagnosis. And I still catch myself thinking that my new porcelain pale carcass looks sickly and I often resent the fact that melanoma, and squamous cell carcinoma to boot, have changed my fun times in the sun by forcing me to cover up on the golf course and hiking trails. The sun I used to love is now an object of fear. Oy.

Let’s hope that societal attitudes about tanning start to change soon—otherwise we’re going to have to build several new wings onto this dang Hotel. Until next time, I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma take on Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name”…



Shot through the heart and you're to blame
Mela you give sun a bad name

A painful while is what you spell
U promised me heaven then put me through hell
Days of sun got a hold on me
When tannin's a prison you can't break free

Oh! You're a loaded gun, yeah
Oh! There's nowhere to run
No one can save me
The damage is done

Shot through the heart and you're to blame
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)
I braised my parts and you play your game
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)
Hey, you give sun a bad name

Paint your smile on your lips
Blood red nails on your fingertips
A fool boy's scream, you act so sly
Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye

Whoa! You're a loaded gun
Whoa! There's nowhere to run
No one can save me
The damage is done

Shot through the heart and you're to blame
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)
I braised my parts and you play your game
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)
You give sun, oh!

Oh! Shot through the heart and you're to blame
You give sun a bad name
I braised my parts and you play your game
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)

Shot through the heart and you're to blame
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)
I braised my parts and you play your game
You give sun a bad name
(Bad name)

You give sun
You give sun
(Bad name)
You give sun oh oh oh oh oh
You give sun
(Bad name)
Y ou give sun
You give sun
(Bad name
) You give sun
You give sun

Singing the Pinktober Blues

I’ve concluded that there must be some kind of competition going on among consumer products companies every October to see who can come up with the creepiest and most clueless pink awareness ribbon product placement. Yesterday I picked up a package of thin-sliced chicken breasts that carried the ubiquitous pink ribbon, and all I could think was “yuck”. I mean, what am I supposed to do, perform a mammogram on those chicken breasts before grilling them? What’s next, pink ribbons on tanning beds?

Hoping that my cancer never gets this crassly commercialized, I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Statesboro Blues” from Taj Mahal…



Wake up momma, turn tan lamp down low
Wake up momma, turn tan lamp down low
You don’t deserve baby to have mela onc at your door

I woke up this morning, I had them Pinktober Blues
I woke up this morning, had them Pinktober Blues
Well, I looked over the Facebook and mole mates seemed to have them too

Well, my onc doc tried to test me
My derm doc tried undress me
I ain't good looking baby
I'm somewhat ‘screened and white

I'm goin' to speak bluntly, baby do you want your moles?
If you tan bake it baby
Your Interferon med spree gonna flow
And I sure will take cure

I loved that sun tan, better than any onc man I've ever seen
Well, I loved that suntan, better than any onc man I've ever seen
Well, now, he treat me like a king, yeah, yeah, yeah
And C look like it all gone clean

Wake up momma, turn tan lamp down low
Wake up momma, turn tan lamp down low
You don’t deserve baby to have mela onc at your door

Anything For A Donation

A guy who will do a melanoma fundraising walk wearing a black tutu and nail covers will, obviously, do almost anything for a donated buck. My latest Quixotic venture was to respond (quite belatedly) to a request and offer to rewrite the lyrics to a song that is, at least in my opinion, one of the worst of the 70’s in exchange for donations to University of Colorado Foundation Melanoma Research Fund. And I got a few pledges, thank you very much, so here goes.

A song for the indoor tanning industry and its uninformed prey, to the tune of Abba’s “Dancing Queen”…



You can tan, you can fry
Slashing the time off your life
Ooh see that girl, watch that scene
Stingin' the tanning queen

Fry Day night and the lights all glow
Looking out for a place to grow
Where they prey with fright U thing, getting in sun thing
You come in to look for a singe

Anybody could peel and die
Blight of young and the toll is high
With a bit of doc choosing, it’s biopsy time
You're in the mood for a tan
And when you get the chance

You are the tanning queen
Young and sweet, only seventeen
Tanning queen, feel the heat
From the salon sheen, oh yeah

You can tan, you can fry
Slashing the time off your life
Ooh see that girl, watch that scene
Stingin' the tanning queen

You're a griever, you turn 'em on
Leave skin burning and then you’re gone
Cooking out for sun color, any ‘sun’ will do
You're in the mood for a tan
And when you get the chance

You are the tanning queen
Young and sweet, only seventeen
Tanning queen, feel the heat
From the salon sheen, oh yeah

You can tan, you can fry
Slashing the time off your life
Ooh see that girl, watch that scene
Stingin' the tanning queen
Stingin' the tanning queen

Going Black in Houston

This past weekend I was blessed to attend the AIM for the Cure Melanoma Walk in Houston, where the only thing warmer than the Texas hospitality is the air. It was quite nice to breathe all of that oxygen down there at sea level, but y’all really do need to do something about that humidity—this Colorado ‘boy’ and his black tutu were quite wilted after walking only 5 kilometers. If event organizer Judy Sager (reluctantly posing above with the Men in Black) hadn’t had us walking after dark, I think I might’ve died.

Putting my climactic whining aside for a moment, I want to thank Judy, AIM at Melanoma, MD Anderson Cancer Center, and all of the volunteers for staging this wonderful event. It was truly a pleasure to meet up with a bunch of inspirational melahomies, and I hope to do it again in the not-too-distant future. For all of you, here’s the Hotel Melanoma rendition of Dean Martin’s “Houston”…

Wasn’t lonesome in this old town
And a buddy drove me ‘round
‘Twas a race put on by AIM
But walking is a pain
Goin' black in Houston, Houston, Houston

I got holes in both of my shoes
Well I'm a walking case of sun blues
Raised some dollars Saturday
But mole friends blew me away
Goin' black in Houston, Houston, Houston

I have been eating for about a week
I'm so chunky in black tutu chic
Mole buddies call me friend
It’s sad the shape I'm in
Goin' black in Houston, Houston, Houston

Goin' black in Houston, Houston, Houston
I got a cure waiting there for me
Well at least they said there’ll be
I found a home and some great warm friends
And an armadillo that was dead
Goin' black in Houston, Houston, Houston

Wasn’t lonesome in this old town
And a buddy drove me ‘round
‘Twas a race put on by AIM
But walking is a pain
Goin' black in Houston, Houston, Houston

One Fine Day

If only my sunscreen and SPF 50 golf duds could sing, they just might do this one-- to the tune of Carole King’s “One Fine Day”…



One fine day, you'll look at me
And you will know our love was, meant to be
One fine day, you're gonna want me for your cure

The arms I long for will open wide
And you'll be proud to have me
Blockin' right by your hide
One fine day
You're gonna want me for your cure

Though I know you're the kind of boy
Who only wants to sun a round
I'll keep waiting, and, someday darling
You'll come to me when you want to battle brown
Oh

One fine day, we'll meet once more
And then you'll want the ‘glove’ you threw away before
One fine day, you're gonna want me for your cure
One fine day, oh
Oooh, one fine day, you're gonna want me for your cure

Rocky Mountain Rays

There are several good reasons not to hike near-naked at high altitude, and the intensity of ultraviolet radiation from the sun is just one of them. Did you know that ultraviolet radiation increases by 5% for every 1000 feet of elevation gain? That means the UV rays are 50% stronger at 10,000 feet than at sea level. So sunscreen is good, but perhaps not good enough, and SPF 50 clothing is better. Don’t take my word for it, please check out Colorado Melanoma Foundation’s prevention pamphlet here.

Another good reason to cover up, or at least stash some extra clothing in your pack, is the strong potential for rapid and radical changes in weather conditions along the trail. A warm and sunny day at the trailhead parking lot can turn wet, windy and cold a couple of miles and a thousand feet higher up the trail.

There’s a surefire way to spot an inexperienced mountain hiker from one of the sea level “sand states” like Florida on an alpine trail in the Colorado High Country. He’s the guy with no day pack; bottled water in hand; wearing only a short sleeve tee shirt, shorts, and sport sandals with no socks; and apparently assuming there’ll be cellphone service “up there” if he gets in trouble and wants to call for a rescue. I’ve seen this guy all too many times, even on rugged Fourteener peak trails, and all I can do is hope that getting a bad sunburn is the worst thing that’ll happen to him that day.

I’ll end today’s rant with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of a song I don’t really like, but it fits: “Rocky Mountain Way” from Joe Walsh…



Mountains vast here, Rocky Mountain rays
Couldn't get much higher
Mel’s a bastard, think it's safe to say
Time to don attire

And we don't need the tourists fryin'
'Cause the story's sad
'Cause the Rocky Mountain rays
Are ‘better’ than the rays you’ve had

Well, C's dwellin' on skin and C's spellin’ combat
Changes with ev'ry ray, tan, it doesn't flatter
Bases are loaded and Ray C’s at bat
Playin' it ray by ray, time to change the batter

And we don't need the tourists fryin'
'Cause the story's sad, aha
Rocky Mountain rays
Are ‘better’ than the rays you’ve had
Hey, hey, hey

Pembro-what?

The wonderful melanoma treatment news this week is that Merck’s PD-1 drug, Pembrolizumab, is likely within weeks of receiving FDA approval. (By the way, does the pharmaceutical industry believe that the less pronounceable a new cancer drug’s name is, the more they can charge for it per dose?) Read all about it here.

I know there are so many folks here at The Hotel Melanoma who’ve run out of other options and been rather anxiously, to put it mildly, awaiting the availability of PD-1 treatment. With hopes and prayers this is the lifesaver for them, here’s The Hotel Melanoma rendition of ZZ Top’s “Tush”…



I been up, I been down.
Take my word, my days weigh down.
I ain't askin' for much.
I said, Lord, make C pipe down,
I'm just lookin' for some drugs.

I been sad, I’ve withstood,
Malice nexus, it ain’t good.
I ain't askin' for much.
I said, Lord, it’s a countdown,
I'm just lookin' for some drugs.

Take me back way back home,
Not by myself, not alone.
I ain't askin' for much.
I said, Lord, make C bow down,
I'm just lookin' for some drugs.

Persistence

Being a lucky fellow who’s shown no evidence of disease for almost eleven years after a Stage IIIc diagnosis and biochemotherapy treatments, I’m one of the slackers living at The Hotel Melanoma. Consequently, I move about the cyber-halls of this place in a constant state of awe about the quiet courage and persistence of my Stage IV melahomies who’ve undergone multiple surgeries and drug treatment regimens. And all while continuing to go on about the business of living their lives as long and as fully and richly as they are able. I’m quite often ashamed of how very little I do to lend emotional support to those who are fighting for their lives, withdrawing to my own safe little NED room because I just can’t take the pain of always being there for others and I’d rather write fluffy blog posts and get more pageviews.

Who knows what my medical future may bring, but one thing is certain. Should I ever find myself in Stage IV territory I’ll surely have a lot of fine role models. Many have succumbed to their disease but none have “lost” their battle.

For all of you badass Stage IV warriors, both the living and the passed, here’s The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Don Henley’s “Heart of the Matter”…



I got the call today that I didn't wanna hear
But I knew that it would come
An old, true friend of ours was talking on the phone
She said you're on end run

And I thought of all the bad luck
And the struggles you went through
And how I lost C and you lost you

What are these voices outside closed Hotel door
Make us throw off our ‘contentment’
And beg for one year more?

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes
The more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I knew
I'm learning again

I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about persistence, persistence
Even if, even when you don't want to anymore

Ah, these times are so uncertain
There's a yearning undefined
And people filled with rage
We all need a little tenderness
How can one survive in such a cureless age?

Ah, the trust and self-assurance
That lead to happiness
They're the very things C kills, I guess
Ah, pride and competition
Cannot fill these empty arms
And the wall I put between us
You know, it doesn't keep me warm

I'm learning to live without you now
But I miss you, baby
And the more I know, the less I understand
All the things I thought I'd figured out
I have to learn again

I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But everything changes
And my friends seem to scatter
But I think it's about persistence, persistence
Even if, even when you don't want to anymore

There are people in your life
Who've come and gone
They let you down
You know they hurt your pride
You better put it all behind you, baby
'Cause' life goes on
If you keep carrying that anger
It'll eat you up inside, baby

I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter
But I think it's about persistence, persistance
Even if, even when you don't want to

I've been trying to get down
To the heart of the matter
Because the flesh will get weak
And the ashes will scatter
So I'm thinking about persistence, forgiveness
Even if, even when you don't want to

Persistence
(Yeah)
Forgiveness
(Baby)
Persistence
(Oh, oh)
Forgiveness
(Ah, yeah)
Persistence
(Oh)
Forgiveness
Even when you don't want to anymore

Persistence
(Oh)
Forgiveness
(Oh)
Persistence
Forgiveness

Old Tans

I’m feeling just a bit worn and leathery today, kind of like the old golf club grips I had replaced the other day, so here’s The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Neil Young’s “Old Man”…



Old tans, look at my hide
I'm a lot like hue slur
Old tans, look at my hide
I'm a lot like hue slur

Old tans, look at my hide
Plenty sore and skin checks are bore
Skin’s a-prone to a parasite
That makes me think of U

Sun-crossed, such a cost
Gave me things that don't get lost
Like a coin that won't get tossed
Growing moles to view

Old tans, take a look at my hide
I've got docs in queue
I need someone to cut me
The whole day through
Ah, one look at my slides
And you can tell that's true

Sol abides, look at your prize
Run around in stained blue gown
Doesn't mean that much to C
To mean that much to you

I've been nursed and scanned
Look at how the time goes past
But I'm all pale tone at last
Growing moles to view

Old tans, take a look at my hide
I've got docs in queue
I need someone to cut me
The whole day through
Ah, one look at my slides
And you can tell that's true

Old tans, look at my hide
I'm a lot like hue slur
Old tans, look at my hide
I'm a lot like hue slur

Ban The Golf Tan

I quite often amaze myself on the golf course. And, when I do, it’s almost never a good thing. As an inconsistent ball-striker who’s always one bad swing or ill-advised club selection away from a scoring disaster, I’m quite capable of following up a birdie with a triple bogey. Several of the better players in my Extremely Senior Golf League carry GPS devices and, in a gesture of gentlemanly sportsmanship, they’ll tell me the exact yardage from my current lie (often in deep rough) to the pin. This would be useful information if only I had a clue how far I’ll hit any particular club at any given moment, but I don’t. Take yesterday, for example, when I sailed an unusually well-struck 6-iron over a green and into a thick grove of Ponderosa pines, leading to a double bogey on a relatively easy par 3 hole. Oy.

But at least I’ve learned how not to sport a melanoma-inducing bad golf tan like those depicted above. Which I can’t say for all too many of the players for whom GPS distance finders are useful tools for lowering one’s score. Please, please wear your sunscreen when out on the links, folks, because you really won’t like it here at The Hotel Melanoma.

To the tune of Journey’s “Any Way You Want It”…



Any day you golfin’
That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’

C loves to chaff
C loves to zing
C does perishing

C loves to move
C loves to groove
C loves the blushing skins

Oh, all white, all white
Oh, every site
So ‘screen right, ‘screen right
Oh, baby, bold white

Oh, he said
"Any day you golfin’
That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’"
(any day you golfin’)
He said, "Any day you golfin’
That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’"

I was duff prone, I never knew
What good clubs could do
When I clutched
When I swang, about the rough all spring

Oh, all white, all white
Oh, every site
So ‘screen right, ‘screen right
Oh baby, bold white

Oh, he said
"Any day you golfin’
That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’"
(any day you golfin’)
I said "Any day you golfin’
That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’"

He said, "Ooh, hole’s long, hole’s long, hole’s long"

Oh, he said
"Any day you golfin
’ That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’"
(Any day you golfin’)

Any day you golfin’
That's the day you ‘screen skin
Any day you golfin’
(Any day you golfin’)

The Flat Earth Association

In response to the Surgeon General’s “Call to Action to Prevent Skin Cancer”, the American Suntanning Association issued a very predictable press release full of denial, which included the following gem: "’I believe the report overstates the risk of sunshine and sunbeds while completely ignoring the benefits of sensible UV exposure,’ says Barton D. Bonn, president of the American Suntanning Association”. Did I think ASA would respond by acknowledging that the industry’s product is a dangerous carcinogen and apologizing for selling it to unsuspecting young people who think they have to be tanned to be attractive? Not for a moment. I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I have learned in the course of sixty-one years of life that a lust for money quite often gets in the way of telling the truth.

For my ‘friends’ at the American Suntanning Association, here’s the Hotel Melanoma rendition of R.E.M.’s “Shiny Happy People”…



Slimy crafty people grabbing

Treat me to a shroud, people, people
Throw your sun around, love C, love C
Bake skin into brown, happy, happy
Put kids in the ground where the flowers grow
Gold and silver shine

Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people grabbing

Everyone around, sun them, sun them
Put kids in your hands, bake it, ache it
There's more time to lie, crafty,
Tell them from your heart where no sorrow shines
Gold and silver shine

Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people grabbing

Whoa, here we go

Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people grabbing

Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people grabbing

Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people selling tans
Slimy crafty people grabbing

Slimy crafty people selling tans
People, crafty people
People

For The Surgeon General

I gambled with skin cancer, by spending years of unprotected time in the sun, and lost. The toll so far is one Stage 3c melanoma diagnosis and two squamous cell carcinomas. So I applaud the Surgeon General’s Call To Action To Prevent Skin Cancer and pray that it’ll keep a whole lot of folks from checking into The Hotel Melanoma. Considering the impact of the Surgeon General’s 1964 report linking smoking to lung cancer and heart disease, this new initiative could be huge.

I kind of doubt he reads my blog, but what the heck—for Surgeon General Boris Lushniak here’s The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “Don’t Let The Sun Catch You Crying” from Gerry & The Pacemakers…



Don't let the sun catch you frying
The night's the time for outdoor cheers
Golf cart may be broken tonight
But tomorrow in the morning light
Don't let the sun catch you frying

The lifetime tan glows disappear
And with them go all your fears
For the warning will bring joy
For every girl and boy
So don't let the sun catch you frying

We know applying's not a bad thing
It stops your frying when the birds sing

It may be hard to skin cover
I can attest it’s a bummer
But don't forget that sun's a pain
And you should always tan abstain
Oh don't let the sun catch you frying
Don't let the sun catch you frying, oh no
Oh, oh, oh

Whack-a-Mole Rock

It’s getting perilously close to the first of the month, when various and sundry melanoma awareness advocates will tell me it’s once again time to perform a skin self-examination. Seeing as how I’m rather frequently donning the blue gown and paying a lot of money to melanoma specialists to do that for me, I’ll take a pass and do my best to squint while looking in the mirror to shave. But just in case you are going to follow this sage advice and take an up close and personal look at your carcass, and then post selfies of any suspicious moles on Facebook, here’s some music for mole-checking to the tune of “China Grove” from The Doobie Brothers…

When the sun comes up on our sleepy little towns
Frown about bad skin tone
And the folks are risin' for another day
'Round about their homes
The people of the gown are strange
And they're proud of where they pale
Well, you're talkin' 'bout find-a- mole
Oh, find-a-mole

Well, the seeker and the peeker
Lord, they're all cautious
They on the stalk of the brown
Then the checkup gets too spyin’
And you ain't fryin'
When the sun comes shinin’ down
You pray that your doctor’s been trained
And dear skin is lookin’ the same
We're talkin' 'bout the find-a-mole
Oh, find-a- mole

But every day there's a new thing comin'
We pray for a monumental brew
The research man’s our buddy
It’s our tanner’s reward
News can even be confusing at times

And though skin’s the start of the ‘noma fate
People don't seem to care
They just keep on cookin' to be creased

Talkin' 'bout the find-a-mole
Oh, find-a-mole

The Human Touch

Once upon a time I was a newly-diagnosed Stage 3c melanoma patient who, like most of us recent check-ins at The Hotel Melanoma, didn’t know a soul in “real life” who’d battled ‘just skin cancer’. And I found it to be a very isolating experience. It’s not that I wasn’t the beneficiary of a great deal of support and kindness from family, friends and co-workers; I most surely was. But I lacked a support network of melahomies who truly "got it" like only those who’ve walked in those same shoes can. Consequently, before, during and in the first years after biochemotherapy treatments, I didn’t have a single melapal who’d previously undergone that ass-kicking regimen to talk to and, so to speak, compare notes. Was my inability to remember simple things like my debit card PIN a normal and temporary side effect of the treatment? Does every NED melanoma survivor climb the walls and yearn for pharmaceutical assistance when waiting to receive scan results? My cancer center wasn’t a resource for connecting with other patients to chat about such matters because I didn’t have a brand of cancer that was ‘popular’ enough to merit having its own patient support group. I was on my own and not much liking that state of affairs.

Consequently, as a co-founder of the Colorado Melanoma Foundation one of my hopes and goals for the organization is that it will find a way to facilitate the formation of a patient support network that is local enough to Colorado to enable folks who are battling the Black Beast to actually meet one another in person if they choose to. The social media-based melahomey networks are a valuable source of long distance support and friendship, but don’t we all sometimes need the human touch of a one-on-one conversation over our favorite choice of beverage?

By the way, if you’re looking to meet some Colorado melapals then come to the Foundation’s Mallets for Melanoma event on Sunday August 2nd. I’m sure there’ll be something cold and tasty in my cooler to share.

I’ll leave you with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of Bruce Springsteen’s “Human Touch”…



You and me we are the defenders
C gives us all fits some days
In the end what you don't surrender
Well C world just strips away

Girl ain't ‘nuff kindness in the face of facebook
Ain't gonna find no miracles there
Well you can wait on your friendings my darlin'
But I got a deal for you right here

I ain't lookin' for prayers or pity
I ain't comin' 'round searchin' for a crutch
I just want someone to talk to
And a little of that Human Touch
Just a little of that Human Touch

Ain't no mercy on pink streets of this town
Ain't no NED from heavenly skies
Ain't nobody drawin' wine from this blood
It's just you and me to fight

Tell me in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm askin's too much?
I just want something to hold on to
And a little of that Human Touch
Just a little of that Human Touch

Yeah!
Yeah hey!
Yeah yeah!
Whoa hey yeah yeah!

Oh girl that feeling of safety you prize
Well it comes with a hard hard price
You can't shut off the risk and the pain
Without losin' the love that remains
We're all riders on this train

Yeah hey yeah!
Whoa!
Hey!
Whoa!
Yeah yeah!
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeahhh!
Whoaaa!

So you been broken and you been hurt
Show me somebody who ain't
Yeah I know I ain't nobody's bargain
But hell a little touchup and a little paint

You might need somethin' to hold on to
When all the answers they don't amount to much
Somebody that you could just to talk to
And a little of that Human Touch

Baby in a world without pity
Do you think what I'm askin's too much?
I just want to see you and your harms
And share a little of that Human Touch
Share a little of that Human Touch
Feel a little of that Human Touch in you
Feel a little of that Human Touch
Share a little of that Human Touch in you
Feel a little of that Human Touch
Give me a little of that Human Touch in you
Give me a little of that Human Touch

Heyyy now!
Oh yeah!
Oh yeah yeah!
(Share a little of that Human Touch)
(Feel a little of that Human Touch)
(Give me a little of that Human Touch)
Whoa!
Feel a little of that Human Touch
Give me a little of that Human Touch
(Give me a little of that Human Touch)
Whoooa whoooa
(Need a bud)
Ohhh yeahhh!
Ohhh yeah!
Whoooa
Whoooa whoooa
Whoooa
Whoa!

A Starter Cancer

Yesterday I had my second squamous cell carcinoma excised. On the one hand, the procedure and healing process are unpleasant enough to get the attention of most sentient human beings and provoke some serious reflection about past behavior that led to this self-inflicted wound. (Although in comparison to a wide local excision of a melanoma tumor, neither of my squamous cell excisions have been any BFD.) On the other hand, a squamous cell carcinoma is pretty unlikely to kill you. So the experience has got me to thinking that squamous cell carcinoma might make a good “starter cancer” to convince all of us who’ve had too much unprotected fun in the sun to change our behaviors before we make non-cancellable reservations at The Hotel Melanoma.

But the hitch here is that we don’t get the chance to choose a rarely fatal starter cancer as our wake-up call that it’s past time to cover up and wear some freakin’ sunscreen. Instead, we just might find ourselves waking up one day at The Hotel Melanoma—where you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave. So please, please be careful outside this summer.

Hoping all you starter cancer survivors have learned your lessons the relatively easy way, I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “We Can Work It Out” from The Beatles…



Try to see it my way
Do I have to keep on blogging
‘Til I can't go on?

While you see it your way
Run the risk of knowing that
Your sun may soon do wrong
We can work it out
We can work it out

Think of what you're braising
You can get it brown and still
You think that it's all right

Think of what I'm saying
We can work it out and
Get it pale or pay good price
We can work it out
We can work it out

Life is very short
And there's no time
For sunning and frying, my friend

I have always thought
That it's a crime
So I will ask you once again

Try to see it my way
Only time will tell
If I am right or I am wrong

While you see it your way
There's a chance that C might
Scrawl black art before too long
We can work it out
We can work it out

Life is very short
And there's no time
For sunning and frying, my friend

I have always thought
That it's a crime
So I will ask you once again

Try to see it my way
Only time will tell
If I am right or I am wrong

While you see it your way
There's a chance that C might
Scrawl black art before too long
We can work it out
We can work it out

Together

I’ve long been convinced that some of the most effective melavangelism work is being done at the grassroots level by us plain old ordinary melahomies. Through social media and in-person encounters we share melanoma facts and the stories of our individual journeys on the melanoma road. Our posts, shares, tweets and blogs reach (and sometimes annoy) people we know in real life whom would likely never be reached by the awareness-building efforts of the melanoma nonprofit organizations but for the fact we so frequently share the great content put out by those organizations. And sometimes, and perhaps much more often than we know, our grassroots efforts succeed in changing the behaviors of a few members of our little circles of family, friends, neighbors and co-workers and convincing these folks that melanoma isn’t ‘just skin cancer’. By working together as the community of credible people who really ‘get it’ because we ‘got it’, perhaps we’ll someday succeed in demolishing The Hotel Melanoma. And what a very, very fine day that will be.

With thanks to my melapal Donna for reminding me of a great song, I’ll leave you with The Hotel Melanoma rendition of “You & Me” from the Dave Matthews Band…



Gonna back black flags, nothing small
Wake with our deeds and we’re without fear
In cyberspace we'll be on, on
Our tunes aren’t subpar, can swallow the scars
And then when we get all in motion
We gonna take a road to the end of C’s world
All the way to the end of C’s world

Oh, and when the kids are old enough
We're gonna teach them don’t fry

You and me together, we could do anything, baby
You and me together yes, yes
You and me together yes, yes

You and I, we're not tied to the browned
Not stalling but rising, yikes mole thing’s around
Eyes closed about the tan shop
Eyes closed, we're gonna win youth from chars
Our arms wide as the sky
We gonna ride pale hue all the way to the end of C’s world
To the end of C’s world

Oh, and when the kids are old enough
We're gonna teach them don’t fry

You and me together, we could do anything, baby
You and me together yes, yes

We can always look back at what we did
All these memories of UV C baby
But right now it's you and me, forever cure
And you know we could do better than anything that we did
You know that you and me, we could do anything

You and me together, we could do anything, baby
You and me together yeah, yeah
Slew of us together, we could do anything, baby
You and me together yeah, yeah
All of us together yeah, yeah
All of us together, we could do anything, baby

Mallets for Melanoma 2014

On Saturday, July 26, Colorado Melanoma Foundation will hold its 2nd Annual Mallets for Melanoma event. Held at the Denver Polo Club’s facility near Sedalia, Colorado, the event offers a fun-filled and family-friendly day of watching the final polo matches of the Club’s President’s Cup Tournament while tailgating on the sidelines with family and friends; live music from The Platte River Pickers; and meeting other melanoma survivors and members of the Colorado medical community who are engaged in melanoma diagnosis, treatment and research. Further event details and online registration are available here.

Some readers may be aware that I’ve been known to participate in certain melanoma fundraising events clad in a black tutu. Please rest assured that it would take a large caliber handgun to get me on the back of a horse, with or without my black tutu, and you will not be subjected to the visual assault of watching me attempt to play polo in a tutu. The real players you’ll see are quite good at this exciting, powerful and fast-paced game!

Until next time, I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma rendition of Gene Autry’s “Back in the Saddle Again”…



We’re back in the saddle again
Out where mole friends will attend
Where the polo ponies speed
On the lovely green sod field
Back in the saddle again

Ridin's the game once more
Totin' my cold ones from store
Where you ‘screen out UV right
And the Mole C doc won’t bite
Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-oh
Blockin' U, can’t glow
Back in the saddle again
Whoopi-ty-aye-yay
Let’s go that day
Back in the saddle again

We’re back in the saddle again
Out where mole friends will attend
Where the polo ponies speed
On the lovely green sod field
Back in the saddle again

Ridin's the game once more
Totin' my cold ones from store
Where you ‘screen out UV right
And the Mole C doc won’t bite
Back in the saddle again

Whoopi-ty-aye-oh
Blockin' U, can’t glow
Back in the saddle again
Whoopi-ty-aye-yay
Let’s go that day
Back in the saddle again

God Only Knows

The sad but honest truth is that there’s just nothing about my golf game that resembles that of a PGA Tour player. (Or even that of the guys on the Senior Tour who are struggling to make the cut and play on the weekend to make enough money to retain their Tour cards.) They’re all a world apart from me with every club in their bag. The one and only thing we do have in common is that some of those guys are speaking out about sun-safety on the course and setting a good example for us unskilled duffers. Check out a great sun-safe golf PSA video here

With undying love for my much- improved pitching, chipping and putting game, unscented sunscreen and snazzy SPF 50 golf duds, here’s the Hotel Melanoma version of “God Only Knows” from The Beach Boys…



I may not always love you
But long as there are scars from much U
You never need to doubt it
I'll make it on Tour and flout it
God only knows what hide be without you

If you should ever leave me
Though nine would still go on, believe me
The world would know duffing through me
So what good would pitching do me
God only knows what hide be without you

God only knows what hide be without you

If you should ever leave me
Though nine would still go on, believe me
The world would know putting screwed me
So what good would chipping do me
God only knows what hide be without you

God only knows what hide be without you

Jargon-free Rock

I really do like nearly all of the doctors I’ve seen since checking into The Hotel Melanoma, and there’ve been a squadron of them if you count the tag-along residents. But every once in a while a doc will say something just a little bit clueless and drive me crazy. Like the one who told me about ten days after I’d completed biochemotherapy that “You certainly don’t look as good as you say you feel”. True, I’m sure, but why would you ever say that to your patient?

I’m really not asking for much. One, I have a name so please use it when referring to me. My mama didn’t name me “The Patient”. Two, talk to me straight and in layman’s terms. I’m a big boy and can handle bad news, and I’m not stupid; I just didn’t go to medical school and learn to speak medical jargon. And three, lighten up and let your personality and emotions show through the white lab coat armor. I don’t think it’d be “unprofessional” of you to share a laugh or a tear with your patient.

For all of the fine docs who don’t drive me crazy, here’s The Hotel Melanoma rendition of John Mellencamp’s “I Need a Lover”…



I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
Some cure that shows the meaning of a
“Hey hit the highway”

Well I've been walkin' the halls up and down
Pacing through the clinic jungles in fright
I'm so confused, my mind is indifferent
Hey I'm so weak, won't somebody shut off that light

Mean toxicity runs through the IV pole
And I watch it from this hole I call home
And all we ‘homies are dancin' ‘round the IV poles
And I got the cure brawling C up here
Tonight mel is blown

I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
Some cure to chill me and mel go away
I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
Some cure that shows the meaning of a
“Hey hit the highway”

Now I'm not wiped out by this Hotel life I'm living
I'm gonna get this prob, win this duel, and head back home
And I'm not askin' to be loved or be forgiven
Hey I just can't face bakin' skin, its red gloom
One more frightful mole

I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
Some cure that shows the meaning of a
“Hey hit the highway”

I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
Some cure to chill me and mel go away
I need a doctor that won't drive me crazy
Some cure that shows the meaning of a
“Hey hit the highway”
We’ll getcha

On The Beach

Today we enjoy the summer solstice and longest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. And I just had to get out on the golf course and spend some quality time ‘on the beach’. The club has a new teaching pro who was offering free 15-minute golf lessons today. Cheap and talentless player that I am, I was going to sign up until I saw that he’d set up a video camera to record his pupils’ swings. A Kardashian wannabe I’m not, and one of the many things I never, ever want to see myself doing on video is swinging a golf club. So I high-tailed it out of there before forever losing my delusion that I have the silky-smooth swing of Freddy Couples.

By the way, I missed ‘my’ sand trap today because I pulled my tee shot left into the pine trees. Wishing you all a happy and sun-safe first day of summer, I’ll sign off with a little song to sunscreen and my SPF-50 golf duds, to the tune of “Take Me in Your Arms” from The Doobie Brothers…



I know you're screenin', screenin' me so fine
I'm needin’ you darlings for a very fast nine
Show a little SPF karma before I glow
Please let me feel your embrace once more

Save me from sun harms
(Block me, Block me a little while)
Oh little darlings
(Block me, block me a little while)

We all must feel par ache sometimes
Right now, right now I'm feelin' mine

I've tried my best to be long, but I'm not able
I fly it helpless wild, left and unstable
Before I leave green, par I’m leavin' far behind
Please let me feel happy one more time

Save me from sun harms
(Block me, block me a little while)
Oh little darlings
(Block me, block me a little while)

I'm losin' hue and my tanning fest
My hide it was so dark I must confess

I'll never, never see a flying ace no more
I'll ever, ever fear the shock when count my score
Before I leave green, leave green with nine
Please let me feel happy one more time

Save me from sun harms
(Block me, block me a little while)
Oh please baby
(Block me, block me a little while)
Oh yeah, yeah

I'm making hue leavin'
(Save me, save me)
Oh ray screen please yeah
(Save me, save me)
Come on ray screen
(Save me, save me)
Can't you see me on my knees now
(Save me, save me)
Come on ray screen can't you save please
(Save me, save me)
Come on ray screen, oh baby please, please, please

Save me from sun harms
(Block me, block me a little while)
(Save me, save me, save me)
Oh little darlings
(Block me, block me a little while)
(Save me, save me, save me)
Come on ray screen
(Block me, block me a little while)
(Save me, save me, save me)
Oh little darlings
(Block me, block me a little while)
(Save me)
Yeah
(Block me, block me a little while)
(Save me, save me)
Oh little darlings

The Bunker Time Blues

I played a sunny round of golf today with my Extremely Senior Geezer Golf League, and it was kind of a rough one. By the time we’d completed the front nine I’d put so many errant shots in sand traps that one of my playing partners offered to buy me a beach towel. My sand wedge got a little less of a workout after we made the turn, but only because there are fewer bunkers on the back nine. Oy.

But all was not lost. Toward the end of the round my ‘towel boy’ commented on my course attire of long pants and long sleeves (SPF 50 fabric, by the way) on a very warm by Colorado standards day. As you might expect, I took the opportunity to strike a blow for melanoma and skin cancer awareness. Unfortunately, the sun-browned and nearly deaf third member of our group-- who is beginning to bear a striking resemblance to an Egyptian mummy-- didn’t hear the exchange. Maybe next time.

Wearing sunscreen is dandy, of course, but a recently published study suggests that sunscreen alone is not enough to protect us from contracting melanoma. (Check it out here.) So, my golfaholic friends, please wear some freakin’ sun-protective clothing out on the course, not just sunscreen. You probably don’t look all that good in shorts anyway.

Until next time, I’ll sign off with The Hotel Melanoma take on Alan Jackson’s cover of “Summertime Blues”…



Well, I'm gonna raise a fuss, I'm gonna raise a holler
About workin' all summer just to try an' earn some golf pars
Every time my ball goes straightly, to try to not make eight
My ball says, "Roll dice, son, you gotta sand save"

Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna shoot
'Cause there ain't no cure for the bunker time blues

Well, my mom an' papa told me, "Son, you gotta wear some sunscreen,
‘Cuz you gonna get the scars from not hidin’ on sun days"
Well, I didn't hear their words, ‘cuz my head was too thick
Now I can't lose the scars 'cuz U did the cancer trick

Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna shoot
'Cause there ain't no cure for the bunker time blues

I'm gonna take two weeks, gonna have sand vacation
I'm gonna take my problem to the U.S.G.A.-tion
Well, I called my golf coach man and he said quote
"I'd like to help you son, but you're too old for hope"

Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna shoot
'Cause there ain't no cure for the bunker time blues

Well, I'm gonna raise a fuss, I'm gonna raise a holler
About workin' all summer just to try an' earn some golf pars

Sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna shoot
'Cause there ain't no cure for the bunker time blues
Yeah, sometimes I wonder what I'm gonna shoot
'Cause there ain't no cure for the bunker time blues

No there ain't no cure for the bunker time blues

A Father's Day Gift

According to the Melanoma Research Alliance, men are more likely to discover melanoma at a later stage and twice as likely to die from it. And if your father (or grandfather) is a typical guy, he’s probably spent a bunch of time outdoors without any protection from any sissified, sweet-smelling sunscreens and he’s sustained a lot of sunburns over the past few decades. So, in addition to giving him a Father’s Day Gift he’ll actually enjoy—like a bottle of single malt scotch or a box of ammunition—try talking him into getting a thorough skin check. It’ll be a gift that just might save his life.

If you can get him to see a dermatologist who specializes in diagnosing melanoma, rather than doing girly cosmetic stuff like tattoo removals and Botox injections, good for you. But if he’s anything like me before my check-in to The Hotel Melanoma, you’ll probably have about as much success in getting him to see a dermatologist as you would in persuading him to attend a Miley Cyrus concert. My own primary melanoma tumor was spotted and biopsied by a ‘plain old’ family medicine specialist who knew his ABCDEs of melanoma and performed a thorough inspection of my weathered hide in the course of a routine annual physical. So don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good, and call it a win if you can convince Dad to have his primary care doc perform a full-body skin check the next time he sees him.

For all of you whose own father is long gone, but never forgotten and often seen in yourself and his other descendants, I’ll sign off with an unaltered song for Father’s Day-- Eric Clapton’s “My Father’s Eyes”…



Sailin' down behind the sun
Waitin' for the Prince to come
Praying for the healing rain
To restore my soul again

Just a toe rag on the run
How did I get here?
What have I done?
When will all my hopes arise?
How will I know him
When I look in my father's eyes?

My father's eyes
When I looked in my father's eyes
(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes

Then the light begins to shine
And I hear those ancient lullabies
And as I watch this seedling grow
Feel my heart start to overflow

Where do I find the words to say?
How do I teach him?
What do we play?
Bit by bit, I've realized
That's when I need them
That's when I need my father's eyes

(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes
That's when I need my father's eyes
(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes
(Yeah)

Then the jagged edge appears
Through the distant clouds of tears
Now I'm like a bridge that was washed away
My foundations were made of clay

As my soul slides down to die
How could I lose him?
What did I try?
Bit by bit, I've realized
That he was here with me
And I looked into my father's eyes

(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes
I looked into my father's eyes
(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes

My father's eyes
(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes
I looked into my father's eyes
(Look into my father's eyes)
My father's eyes

(Look into my father's eyes)
(Look into my father's eyes)
(Yeah, yeah)
(Look into my father's eyes)

Dang Glad To Be Here

I’ll be turning sixty-one tomorrow. And I’m dang glad to be here, creeping ever so closer to becoming a Medicare and Social Security burden on the Millennial Generation, since my fiftieth birthday ‘present’ was a room key at The Hotel Melanoma. I’ve been way, way luckier during my extended stay than all too many of the other Hotel guests. So if anyone wants to give me a birthday present tomorrow, I hope it’ll be a donation to fund melanoma treatment research.

Still hoping to someday check out of The Hotel Melanoma with a diagnosis of a durable cure, I’ll sign off with a slight twist to Eric Clapton’s “Call Me the Breeze”…



Well, they call me the geez
'Cuz I keep rollin' down the road
They call me the geez
'Cuz I keep rollin' down the road
I ain't got C in body
I ain't carry me no load

Ain't no change in the leather
Ain't no change in me
Ain't no change in the leather
Ain't no change in me
I ain't hidin' from mole buddies
Pray mole buddies hidin' from C

I got that ‘screen right, baby
I got to keep movin' on
I got that ‘screen right, baby
I got to be movin' on
I might check out of Hotel ‘Noma
I might get brown nostalgia, I don’t know

They call me the geez
As I keep rollin' down the road
They call me the geez
'Cuz I keep rollin' down the road
I ain't got C in body
I ain't carry me no load

Burnin' Alive

I expect today’s post expresses a contrarian opinion that may prompt a few eye rolls, but what the heck…

You see, whenever some “celebrity” (whose celebrity-ness is quite often unknown to me until I Google their name) garners a ton of social media attention and publicity over a diagnosis of basal cell carcinoma, or even squamous cell carcinoma, about all I can think is “BFD”. I guess I ought to be appreciative whenever celebrities use a skin cancer diagnosis to urge their adoring fans to wear sunscreen or stay out of tanning beds. But my cynical recovering attorney mind suspects their true agenda is simply a narcissistic attempt to exploit a relatively minor brush with The Big C to get their fix of free publicity. And I think of all of my non-famous melahomies fighting a truly life threatening ‘skin cancer’ who work so hard, and with no potential career or financial gain, to influence their friends, co-workers and family members to change their high-risk indoor and outdoor tanning behaviors. In my curmudgeonly world, they are the true celebrities.

By the way, you skin cancer celebs, I’ve had a total excision of a squamous cell carcinoma and will soon experience a second. And compared to a wide local excision of a melanoma tumor, it’s truly no BFD. So there, Tweet that!

Licking my psychic wounds from several atrocious golf swings earlier today and repressing an urge to drive down the hill and firebomb my local “Tan Your Hide” salon, I’ll sign off with the Hotel Melanoma take on AC/DC’s “Burnin’ Alive…


AC/DC - Burning Alive (lyrics) by soulsurvivor25

[Oooh yeah]
Burnin' alive, set my moles on fire
Sunnin' kicked my buns, this place is gonna burn
No biopsies, or Solarcaine
No plunder store, no Doc Pain
No kids to stalk, nowhere to ‘sun’
So watch out 'cause this place is gonna burn

Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
[Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive]

Rays be tannin' your hide, young sunnin' child
Tell you somethin' to fear, ‘cause the buck stops here!
C came from a little brown small mole
And someday, maybe, it'll go up in smoke

[I say]
No biopsies, or Solarcaine,
No plunder store, and no Doc Pain
No kids to stalk, nowhere to ‘sun’
So watch out, cause this place is gonna burn

Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
It's an all-out war, an all-out war
Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive

Somewhere, there's a little brown small mole
And someday, maybe Ray C, will impale and croak!

[Yeah, we're] Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
[Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive]
It's an all-out war, an all-out war
Hear the battle roar, it's an all-out war
[Yeah we're] Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive
[Burnin' alive, Burnin' alive]

[Yeah] Watch the place burn down

Mole Ripper

Yesterday I wound up Melanoma/Skin Cancer Awareness Month with a visit to the University of Colorado Hospital’s Dermatology Clinic—another #GetNaked day, oh joy! Something rather ugly had popped up on my left shin in the past few weeks, so I went in expecting some carving. And I wasn’t ‘disappointed’. My faculty dermatologist thanked me for being so good at growing things and providing experience and training for his residents, as I’d “presented” my second squamous cell carcinoma in the past twelve months. (But, thank heavens, no melanoma worries!) My response was that I’d been meaning to ask if the hospital offered any sort of rewards points program for patients like me who’ve been frequent visitors to a half dozen or so of its various departments and clinics. Unfortunately, they don’t.

I’m once again reminded that my lifeguard job as a teenager didn’t pay nearly enough. Don’t hide indoors this summer but please, please wear some freakin’ sunscreen!

With thanks to all the good folks at the UCH Dermatology Clinic and with hope that I won’t win the skin cancer trifecta by showing up next time with a basal cell carcinoma, I’ll sign off with a song to all forms of “just skin cancer” to the tune of “Soul Stripper” from AC/DC…



Well, I met C back when ‘guardin’
Underneath that bold bad UV
Sitting with a tan on the towers
Looking as cool as can be
C stalked away in hundreds sun hours
Then C laid cruel hand on my back
Oh, I thought I ought to been ‘screening
I didn't know I fell in C’s trap

Then C made me flay things I didn't want to flay
Then C made me take meds I didn't want to take
C was a mole ripper, C took my parts
Mole ripper, and tore me apart

C started moving nice and easy
Slowly spreading inward in time
Killing off this nice little feeling
Ooooh, everyone C could find
And when C had me hollow and naked
That's when C put me down
Pulled out a knife and flashed it before me
Stuck it in and turned it around

Then C made me flay things I didn't want to flay
Then C made me take meds I didn't want to take
C was a mole ripper, C took my parts
Mole ripper, and tore me apart
Mole ripper!