Freddogg Off The Chain

Chicken Little was cool he was just a little chicken.

This coward ain't buying markers and bringing signs to games! How gay!

“Ain’t that tuff enuff? Ain’t that tuff enuff?”

I'd wrestle with a lion And a grizzly bear
It's my life, baby, But I don't care Fabulous Thunderbirds


Show me a person who is overcoming tremendous physical and emotional challenges every day of their lives and let me write the story. I will capture their spirit and goodness and have you crying by the end. But Ricky don’t call my number, please never punch my ticket, because I am a straight up pussy, metaphor mixing, wimp ass.

Just this morning I wrote a story about an athlete I coached who was diagnosed with terminal cancer, first found in his lower jaw, when he was a junior in high school. He was given two years to live and survived 26 through 12 operations passing away on Thanksgiving Day.

The Reverend Annie, an Indian who adopted Sam an Afro American and his spirit and stayed by his side for 26 years said, “Sam was beautiful and I always told him that. He would refuse the needle and rather suffer the pain.”

That wouldn’t be me under the same circumstances. I’d be mainlining every pain and mind altering drug out there in between taking bong hits.

Two days ago I saw another former student whom I carried into the ocean a few years back in a Special Olympics polar bear fund raiser. This young man has a stomach tube and pump that releases nuclear medicine into his system everyday. Three years ago I admired how he dealt with being wheel chair bound. His illness is exotic and possibly progressive and I thought “what is tuff enuff” for crying out loud, being careful not to use the blasphemous “for Christ sake” but if there is a higher spirit why has it forsaken these innocents? This kid was driving his electric wheelchair down the bus lane of a major highway. He was dressed it black with earrings with sliked hair cause literally that’s the way he rolls. I thought of going back but didn’t want to insult his determination to be independent.

Trust me I grew up inside a family of saintly tuff enuff people who died young, my father 41 MS, mother 53 and sister 48,ovarian cancer, all to terminal illness that gave them too much time to reflect on where they were going.

So while I’m healthy let me shout out, ”I am a pussy! Leave me be! Someone has to write the stories.”

Freddogg