Cyclical Thinking

The good thing about cancer is -- Okay. I know. How can one even start a sentence that way, right? But there is something positive to be noted: as with all things. And I'm not talking about how cancer -- in particular, since much of it's still so mysterious, even to the experts; and since some of the treatments can be more harrowing than the disease; and since it can drag out its program of devastation, and drain the hell out of your physical and spiritual and not to mention financial reserves -- no. I'm not talking about how cancer gives you a chance to prove your mettle by overcoming it. I'm not saying that cancer is good because surviving it "builds character." Of course, we can't help being blown away by the likes of Lance Armstrong. It's enough that an American wins the Tour de France, right? Much less a local boy. Much less one who, through much strength and stamina and fortitude, kicks the metaphorical shit out of the testicular cancer that's been attempting to destroy his entire young corpus. Much less that this man then goes on to prove himself the best cyclist in the world.

That is inspirational. That sort of thing, generally, is inspirational.

But that's not what I'm talking about.

The good thing about cancer? The only good thing? It's not communicable. Period.

You could share needles -- if that's your thing -- with someone who's got non-Hodgkins lymphoma. You could engage in riotous and unprotected sexual activity, frequently, with a person or persons battling one form of cancer or another -- if, that is, the disease or treatment hadn't compromised their ability to so engage. Hell, you could even do a Dracula number on the neck of five tumoroid patients a day -- if such were your particular proclivity. And you still might get cancer from some other factor, sure; but none of the above would've contributed. See?

And, in any case, millions of dollars are being spent in trying to eradicate cancers of all kinds. Laws are being passed in a broad attempt to prevent them. Anti-pollution laws, environmental culpability laws, laws that are putting much-needed brakes on, for instance, tobacco companies. All of which is As It Should Be. But is enough being done? Maybe. I don't know.

And something -- again, maybe not enough of something -- is being done, too, in trying to stem the tide of actual communicable diseases. Smallpox, syphilis, hepatitis, even the late 20th century's answer to the Black Plague: AIDS. Something, at least, is being done.

Okay. Now I suppose I'm not making the point you were expecting me to make, right?

Well, think of Lance Armstrong and bear with me --

Enthusiasm, they say, can be infectious. It can be communicable. That's one of the good things about it. You get a guy like Lance -- gung-ho about cycling, bright and articulate, eager to spread the joy of his sport -- you're going to have other folks picking up on that spirit. Quicker than you can say "Schwinn," you're going to have a lot of people coming down with a good case of bicycle fever, of joie de vivre in general.

Humor often works the same way.

You get someone who's funny, who can make you laugh so damn hard at the innumerable foibles of humanity -- especially without running down any particular person? That can be communicable, too, that spirit. That is something you'd like to spread around as much as possible, to create a whole epidemic of it, if you could. Make the world a better place, right?

I knew a man with that kind of humor.

I knew a man with a spirit like that.

His name was Tom Churchill.

It's coming up on the third anniversary of his death.

I'm trying to draw a parallel here. It's coming out a bit skewed, maybe, the structure of my reasoning a bit warped, like our genes may be a bit warped in allowing some cancers to grow. Like our society may be a bit warped in allowing certain conditions to continue.

Lance Armstrong wasn't killed by cancer. Lance Armstrong is alive, riding his bike, representing the U.S. Postal Service, granting interviews, enjoying what's available this side of the coroner's office. Tom Churchill wasn't killed by cancer. Tom Churchill was killed while riding his bike. There was no Tour de France, no Breaking Away scenario, no competition involved at all. There was Tom, riding home down South Lamar, wearing a helmet, following all the safety laws bicyclists are supposed to follow for safe passage. But there was also no bike lane to speak of, no place set aside for those who prefer to use a sustainable, nonpolluting, healthy mode of transportation. And there was a drunk driver, an asshole in a sports utility vehicle.

And there were Tom's brains, all over the sidewalk.

It was like that "Just Say No" commercial, with the egg and the frying pan. Tom himself -- who could never get enough of John Waters' films -- would've laughed, maybe, pointing out the visual similarity. You would've laughed, too, if his ghost had been there with you. He was that kind of guy, right? Clever. Sweet. Infectious.

And here we have cancer, killing millions. And so much research is going on, in attempting to control it, so many experiments with chemotherapy and radiation and stem cells and peach pits and all that. And scientists work and work, searching for solutions. And they're not really sure, until they try, if something's gonna work or not.

On the other hand, there's a comparatively easy solution to another problem. All it costs is money. All it takes is enough people willing to push it into being.

Enough anti-cancer activity had been funded by the time Lance Armstrong's disease was diagnosed, enough so that he was able to survive, to triumph, to go on and make cycling history. But what's to be done so that this same heroic figure doesn't eventually get mowed down, like anybody else might, by some fool -- drunk or otherwise -- in a 4x4?

How about the creation of bike lanes for every major street, at least?

And how about funding this with a tax on automakers, whose machines are responsible for so much of so many different kinds of environmental damage (besides the negligently homicidal acts of some drivers)? And how about increased fines exacted upon drunk drivers, with those monies going to make the urban infrastructure more bike-friendly? And how about -- as Lance would say, about winning -- how about "whatever it takes"? Legislation, litigation, you name it.

Is that too simple? Does the problem have to be as complex as cancer before we can make progress toward a solution? Can we successfully fight a weird, intricately functioning disease that's plagued humans for thousands of years -- but do little to curb our own recent stupidity?

Uh huh.

Tom always did enjoy irony. I can almost hear him laughing in his grave.