On tonight's broadcast...

Saturday, October 17, 2009
I know. I know. You want answers. You want to know how it went and if the rumors are true. And I'm working on it. But until then, I'll give you this:

I was touched by many self-less acts of love, like my mom and sister both so naively and earnestly offering to donate blood for my transfusion right there on the spot, as if the nurses could just run a line from their veins to mine, like jumper-cables for sick moms.

I was also touched by acts of love that lie on the opposite end of the spectrum. The ones that are not so selfless but if you cup them in your hands and rub them really hard with the hem of your shirt, they shine a little. Who says you can't polish a turd?

Speaking of turds, here's an excerpt from an email I received while in the hospital:

On my way to work yesterday, I purposely stepped in dog crap, with flip flops on, and tried to have a bird shit on my head. Both are supposed to bring you good luck, which i then sent telepathically to you. And you thought you were the only one working hard.

I mean, how selfless is that? Dog shit? In flip flops?!? And can you picture someone negotiating with pigeons, "Please??? Aw, come on. Shit on me! It's not even for me...it's for a friend." The image just kept cracking me up. Hands in the air, fist a'shaking, pleading with idiot birds while dog poop squashed between his toes. Seriously. Undeniably the sign of a true friend.

The email was signed Brian Williams, but for the life of me, I can't picture Brain William walking through the city with poop squeezing out between his toes. Come to think of it, I can't picture Mr. Williams in flips flops. But as much as I love me some Brian, he's been officially knocked down a peg. It was good while it lasted.

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