Friday, September 22, 2006

...and another one gone...

It occurred to me that I haven't told this tale yet. I even went back in the archives to see if I had previously mentioned it's passing. It being September 21.

Sept. 21, 1989, I was diagnosed and so hospitalized for Acute Lymphocetic Leukemia. Obviously a life changing moment, and a trying time to say the least, but let's not dwell on it, after all, I'm still rockin' the casbah. Fast forward, 11 years, Sept. 21, 2000. After feeling a deeply disturbing "heartburn" outside a chinese joint nearby the old HQ with the ex, I spend half the evening with her and return home. The next morning I still feel fairly uncomfortable, and after a prodding by said ex, I go to the doctor who in turn sends me to the hospital, seven or eight hours later I'm on the operating table for an aortic dissection. Again a life changing and trying event. And again let's not dwell on it, I'm still housin', and I can still enjoy some Lo Mein. Instead let's dwell on this: What do the dates 9/21/89 and 9/21/2000 have in common?...don't bother consulting a multi-year calender... they both fell on a Thursday.

Crazy.

Normally, when September 21st approaches I grow leary, I set my ducks in a row and check my will, which may sound morbid, but I've had leukemia and heart surgery and I may be rockin' the casbah and housin' in this motherfucker but I'm not stupid! A man's gotta make sure his shit's straight.

yes I have a will, it's nothing official it's just a piece of paper I keep on file so if anything were to happen it's there to let my family know my feelings on resuscitation orders, (no, no fucking way), funeral arrangements (Viking-style with Marley's "Ride Natty Ride" as the theme), and who gets to take on my debt (that's a surprise)

One of the biggest problems is the psychology of the date is that everything becomes a symptom. A psycho-sematic aura always surrounds me around this time, but yesterday was special. Yesterday 9/21/06 was a Thursday. Thankfully all is well, another bites the dust. However the countdown is on for 9/21/2023. You see, the first 9/21 after 1989 was in 1995, nothing particular happened then, at least I don't remember anything particular that day except that I swept the floor of Tower Records that night, because I always closed on Thursday nights. The next Thursday 9/21 will be 9/17, there's a leap year in 2012, (and a Rush Concept album), so based on the past we'll skip that one which leads us to 2023. I'll be 50. I just did the math, 17 year's ago yesterday I was diagnosed with Leukemia. 17 years from yesterday is 9/21/2023. Now that's some of that freaky-deaky. You see, there is no god, only mother nature--and mathematics. September 21, 2023, it's a good enough day to die.

Want to kick it up a notch? The bastard (aka bastard, of the Forest Hills bastards) has reason to heed 9/21. But I'll let him tell his own story.


September 22, 2006: Nine months until my birthday.

a relieved mofo

2 comments:

Damnation Mistress said...

Hey look on the bright side, if the count down is correct at least you're prepared. You can do all that you ever wanted to do before 2023 and if the count down is wrong, by the time you're 50 you would've had a very full life with more to come.

mofo said...

Yes, and I really wasn't planning on much after 50 anyway.