Pickle, rioting (the unbeatable high), dead siblings

The final game of the 2013 World Series will forever be remembered for the absolutely ridiculous game of pickle shown above.  In a game filled with highlights, this hilarious, 3-on-1 spectacle is burned into my brain forever.  I think that Jacoby Ellsbury looks like the Native American woman from Seinfeld.

A sports celebration isn't complete without a couple flipped cars and other by-the-books rioting.  I can't help but think back Red Sox celebration in 2004 where police murdered a classmate of mine, Victoria Snelgrove, by firing a pepper spray projectile that hit her right in the eye.  The officer who fired the "non-lethal" weapon was put on paid leave, and the former police commissioner stated that while she "firmly and emphatically accept[s] responsibilities for any errors, I also condemn the actions of the punks...who turned our city's victory into an opportunity for violence and mindless destruction."  I do not sympathize with idiots who want to riot after a sports victory, but she should have been honest and recongize that the opportunity for violence was not ignored by the police, whose sole function to serve and protect is often undermined by a deadly combination of authority, ego, and firepower.  With that in mind, I wish those drunken sports fans would take a moment to reflect on what exactly they are accomplishing and the danger they invite not just on themselves, but everyone.

They club your head, kick your teeth Police can riot all they please
I don't think I've given a real update on my health in a while, so I guess I'll bring you guys up to date. In my "Dreams" post from September 2nd, I talk about experiencing symptoms of graft versus host disease.  My doctor was never 100% certain that it was GVHD, though, since although the timing and organs affected (liver and skin) were typical of GVHD, the actual appearance of the irritated skin was unusual to GVHD.  (I only use that abbreviation one more in this post, I promise.)  So a month or so ago my doctor made me an appointment with an oncological dermatlogist to determine what exactly was going on with my skin.  They took a biopsy and at the end of the week my doctor called me to let me know it was a reaction to a drug he had taken me off of a few weeks earlier  in case it had any role in what was going on with my skin.  He said that he has no reason to think that I have GVHD, which is a huge relief, because although it can indicate a healthy and effective donor system, it is a real bitch.  So I am in good shape for now.
A couple of weeks ago I had a follow up appointment with my dermatologist.  The waiting room was packed and I'm the only one in a mask and gloves.  No surprise there.  I sat down near a middle-aged woman and I just knew that she was going to start talking to me.  She does.  At some point I mentioned I grew up on Cape Cod, she asks which part, and I give my standard, "Truro, way out there."  She says, "Oh yes, next to Provincetown."  I tell her yes.  She then mouths silently, "Lot of fags down there."  I nod.  She then goes on to tell me that her brother was gay and died of AIDS.  Except she didn't use any of those words.  She managed to convey that to me in a manner that was at once cryptic and direct. He lived down there, got sick, and died, "when the drugs weren't as good as they are today."  
We talk a little more. She surprises me with her progressive views on the healthcare system and pharmaceutical companies.  She started getting personal again, confiding that her sister died of lung cancer and she felt guilty for not taking care of her.  She clearly had unresolved issues with her dead siblings.  When she told me she wasn't religious, but she believes there's something out there, and that things happen for a reason, I told her, "Yeah.  But some things happen for no reason."  She agreed with me and a few moments later the nurse called my name.  We said a polite goodbye and she wished me luck.  It was a very nice ending to a conversation that covered a lot of bases (hey, baseball term). So thankfuly I didn't see her on my way out.
That about wraps things up.  I have yet to muster the energy to work on my Hardline retrospective, but I promise that will come.  I have a few other ideas to for records to showcase and offer for download.  Until then, take it easy.  One thing I know for sure is we all need to stay upbeat.