That's what I told Cliff the other day, when his cousin Art called to say he has prostate cancer. I realize prostate cancer is highly curable, but still. It makes you think. Nobody wants to hear the "C" word, curable or not.
Does anybody else remember Chef Tell? He had one of the early cooking shows on television, back when there were only three or four channels on TV. I still use his favorite phrase sometimes: "Very simple, very easy."
I just read that he's dead at age 63: my age.
Robert Goulet died yesterday at age 73, only ten years older than I.
Speaking of people ten years older than I, a local friend of mine (also named Dona, just spelled different) is now in a rest home. She was about my age when she had the stroke that made her a semi-invalid.
Cliff's cousin Kenneth, who planned to have a big going-away party before terminal cancer ended his life, isn't going to be able to throw the party after all; he's too sick. He recently told Art, another cousin, "Don't ever let them talk you into taking chemo."
On a side note, AOL offered this fascinating "Where Are They Now" story about the cast of M*A*S*H. Some of them have passed away, but others are still kicking at a ripe old age: Alan Arbus, for instance, is 89; Harry Morgan, a fellow I've been watching on television since the 1950's (ever hear of a show called "December Bride"?), is 92.
I know, I know; I hit this theme often these days.
It's why I take every opportunity to ride the horse, or ride the
motorcycle with Cliff. Every golden moment we enjoy is a treasure.
By the way, it's supposed to be in the sixties and sunny today.
Now playing: Johnny Cash - Redemption