Live Strong

Note: Nope, I no longer wear the stupid bracelet.

Originally posted on September 23, 2004.

...

So there are what? 260 million people in America?

I'd say 259,999,999 million have those friggin yellow Livestrong bracelets.
Myself included.

But I've had mine since they first came out.

Back when they were trying to give them away. What can I say? I like being exclusive.
But that's not the point. This is important.

It bothers me that this has become a trend.

I hate trends. Because they kill anything meaningful.

I cringe at popular music. Because popular killed hip hop.

I ignore popular people. Ok I ignore everyone.

And I get homicidal when everyone begins to look alike because they're wearing whatever the
flavor of the month is.

White t-shirts.

Throwbacks.

Low-rise jeans.

Cross Colors.

But now call me conflicted. And mad.

My non conformist, non committal, -let me be different because I wanna be- self should not have to change because everyone else is late.

I finally committ to a cause, a worthy one at that and everyone else is tipping over the bandwagon.

Normally, I'd chalk this up as a loss, put the bracelet in the drawer never to be worn again and keep it moving.

But understand, this Livestrong thing is dear to me.

My grandmother battled cancer for the last years of her life.

I miss her everyday, but this time of year is always hard since it is the time of year that she passed 2 years ago compounded by the holidays and her birthday. I know it's only September, but Granny Ma celebrated every holiday and started early.

September for all intents and purposes begins the school year.

My grandmother was a college professor at New York City Tech for 20 some odd years.
I got to go to school with her all the time growing up.

But a week into my freshman year of college, she was in the hospital.

A month into it, she was gone.

She preached the importance of book sense and common sense.

Not having her around to celebrate last semester's 4.0 and my ever blossoming independence put an extreme damper on the accomplishments.

In some ways the 4.0 made it even worse because I knew how proud it would have made her.

I can't even watch Blow, Little House on the Prairie, game shows or NBC4 in NY's 5 o'clock news without tearing up.

Yes Blow. My Granny Ma was grimey and loved bad movies.

We spent entire days, weekends and summers together just chilling.

48 years apart and we had more to talk about than I ever have with anyone my own age.

I know everyone has their time, but in my mind, cancer took my grandmother, my buddy, my rock and my voice of reason away.

It made her and everyone around her miserable.

Not only that, but it made her suffer immeasurable physical and emotional pain. I doubt I have, or will ever feel as helpless as knowing there was nothing I could do to get rid of it.

Every time it left, it came back.

No cure, just medicine and treatment that made her feel worse.

I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone or any family.

So when I see someone in their car, cigarette hanging out their mouths, with a Livestrong bracelet on, the cynic in me wonders how much of a trend whore this person is.

Do they have one of those singing fish hanging in their living room with a chia pet on the coffee table?

I get it.

They're promoting cancer survivors because they're hoping to survive it.

Understandable.

Dumb. But understandable.

I don't run into burning buildings just so I can survive a fire.

My grandmother was a smoker.

My favorite teacher, Mr. Lewis is a smoker.

Back in my 8th and 9th grade social studies classes, he used to say smokers aren't bad people whenever one of us saw him puffing outside during recess. That everyone does dumb things. That when people like him and my grandmother started, no one knew what they know now. That he wished he could quit and he'd kill any of us if he saw us repeating his mistake. And that Elvis is still alive.

I'm not one of those crazed PETA people with the animals. I'm not going to throw paint in people's faces because they smoke. Go fur. Eat a burger.

I don't start to cry and scream whenever I see someone smoking.

I think those Truth commercials are stupid.

If you want to smoke you will. And go right ahead. It's good for the economy. Let it burn.
I have absolutely no problem with smokers so long as they exhale that way. ----------->

And don't cause 2am building evacuations on a rainy Richmond Tuesday morning because they fell asleep with a burning stick hanging out their mouths.
I have an 8am class on Tuesday and I'm cranky without my sanity rest.

I just think it's extremely ironic to give yourself cancer and wear an anti cancer bracelet.

Consider this.

I can live a healthy lifestyle for the rest of my life and get cancer.

Cancer can kill me just like it did my grandmother and I don't have to smoke for 40 seconds. Forget 40 years.

So I want someone to find a cure for cancer. For everything.
For everyone.

To me, my grandmother and my family are cancer survivors.

My grandmother was a survivor because she never stopped fighting.

She never let cancer take away her dignity, her sarcastic wit or her smile.

Even when she was depressed.

Lance Armstrong was an inspiration. And I don't even like cycling.

So I wear my Livestrong bracelet.

But I hate the fact that something that has such meaning is quickly becoming so trivialized as wearing the bracelet because you've got on a yellow shirt or because all your friends have one.

My cynicism is quelled by the fact that the donations from the sale of the bracelets have gone to such a worthy cause.

The ironic thing is that even if these people don't know what the bracelet means or are just following the trend, they either have or will be affected by cancer in some way. So I guess that's a good thing.

I just hate seeing them everywhere.

I hate being in the loop.

I hate the fact that when this trend is over, the cause might go in the trash right along with the bracelet.