Death by Kenny G

LIVE, FROM ST. JOHNS..IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT!

Actually, I'm not in St. Johns. I'm at home. All cozy and nestled by my computer. (Nestled? Is that a word? Weren't they nestled all snug in their beds? Have YOU ever been nestled?)

So?...........What's shakin' bacon? How the hell have you been? I'm so worried about you. Haven't heard from you in a week or so. Are you alive? Have you moved to the South of France? Do you not want to talk to me anymore? What's going on?

Welllllllllllllllllll, it's me and my BF, the feeding tube, here to tell you that we've just returned from almost a week in the hospital getting some hydration and nutrition. I think by the time my feeding friend was reattached I was already so depleted that there was no way I could give myself enough food and water anymore no matter how much I tried to sink into the tube. So I had myself checked in last weekend and I'm feeling a bit stronger and I actually gained two pounds and I'm hoping to gain at least eight more before I start the balding chemo. And I now have a pain patch plus I'm taking pain pills and I'm feeling a bit like Richard Pryor must have felt most of the time although my pain is great enough to make me feel actually almost normal instead of the high one gets when they take the pills and don't really have any pain.

Things I Learned in the Hospital................

If you are going to be near a nurse's station, make sure they don't play soft rock on the radio ALL DAY LONG because that kind of music sort of makes you want to swallow the entire bottle of pills because it doesn't quite put you to sleep it just sort of lulls you into thinking everything is just so relaxed and fine and no one should ever have an individual thought and we should just smile and give up on everything and just lie in our beds and eat jello. Anyway, that's sort of how Kenny G makes me feel.

A hospital chaplain came into my room. She was a nun. The Sisters of Leavenworth. (I kid you not.) She was very prim and friendly and wanted to know my spiritual path until I told her I was a Jew and she became very frazzled and nervously looked me up on her sheet of patients and said I had listed myself as non denominational. I think I smiled demonically because she looked scared when I said that I was born a Jew and will be one until I die but I liked to think of myself as being part of all religions in the world. And until we all thought of ourselves as ONE we would continue to have the same problems over and over.

She left quickly and said she would refer me to the hospital Rabbi. He came just as I was checking out and he too seemed to have a demonic look. He'd probably just run into the Chaplain.

Another reason to take the entire bottle of pills...Daytime television.

Another reason...Nighttime television. Okay, Anderson Cooper is supposed to be news, right? Well, not really but he hit a new low when after the Spitzer reveal he had on for at least twenty minutes a man dubbed The King of All Pimps. Oh my God, this guy was so self confident and self important and he had spent two years in prison for running a prostitution ring and he talked as the expert he was about prostitutes and "You get what you pay for..." and he was proud to announce that he now had a dating service for high class New Yorkers!! You know the Spitzer story is over when the only person you can find to interview is a Jewish pimp who thinks Jeremy Pivan would be the perfect actor to play him in a movie.

Actually, Jeremy Pivan is a great idea.

I realized that the reason Geraldine Ferraro could run for Vice President is because she's actually a man. How different it would be if Geraldine and Hillary had really long rock and roll hair and it hung in their faces when they gave speeches and it was all tossled and full of product when they walked to the helicopters and imagine if Bill ran his fingers through Hillary's long hair when they were at a state dinner. I mean, what is with this hair like a man thing? And, conversely, what if Bill had a cut like Bon Jovi? Probably not a good look for him as I watch his nose get longer and longer. Must be the Pinnochio curse.

And what about our President dancing on the White House porch? The pills, please...........

Must party down now. After all, it is Saturday night. Maybe I'll switch on The Wave and have myself a shot of Kefir. Gee gosh golly, life is sometimes just a little too exciting, don't you think?