Half-Cocked Tangents

this is a post i started a few days ago and never finished....


Summer of Love
I accept that I will die of cancer. I just hope that i go quick, or that I fight like a sonofabitch and overtake the motherfucker. But it seems inevitable. Is this what our generation fears? I know quite a few people that are pretty hypochondriacal (?!) when it comes to the big C (myself included). Every creak and rattle, every pain and strain...all these things are symptoms of the death that is obviously just lurking in our body waiting to make itself shown. Weird. I wonder if our parents felt this way about cancer. I don't think so (with the possible exception of my dad and his apparent obsession (which he has generously passed on to me) with bowel cancer). They worried about Vietnam, we worry about George. We worry about AIDS & cancer.... they worried about?????? Do YOU worry about cancer, loyal readers??

cousins
diana
rite
weddings/generations