Got to spend a nice evening with Bret, Suzy, and their 6-month old son last Saturday night. Doesn't his boy look just like him? Apparently my son has done and joined a gang of pre-schoolers and chose this photo to represent. Came as rather a shock to me. You just can't talk to them too young about the pitfalls of life.
Bret's been getting daily doses of radiation to treat his rahbdomyosarcoma. I read quite a bit about the effects of exposure to radiation while reseaching a term paper about nuclear war back in nineteen-eighty-something, and sure enough he' got them. Body temperature regulation, burned tissues, etc. all present, and painful for Bret. I always figured that I would see this in the other fallout victims and myself, after the limited exhange. I used to scan the sky for incoming missiles, but nope, the radiation is deliberate and will hopefully save his life, amazing.
Notice Jim Morrison in the upper right corner on the back of his American Prayer album. The boy wanted to hear some spoken word so I turned him on to Jim rambling about dead native Americans scattered along the desert highway. He thought it was alright. We just finished reading the original unabridged Pinnochio, which was at least as heavy and 171-pages long, and we both loved that, terrifying mayhem and all.
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