If the Phone Doesn't Ring...

My dad is a big fan of Jimmy Buffett.  When I was a kid, we would drive around the countryside (doing farm stuff) with his collection of Jimmy Buffett cassette tapes.  My favourite album was Last Mango in Paris, which had classics like Jolly Mon Song, Gypsies in the Palace, and, of course, If the Phone Doesn't Ring, It's Me.

Logically, a lot of phrases from Jimmy Buffett songs made it into our daily vernacular, and "If the phone doesn't ring, it's me" was no exception.  Dad was notorious for his dislike of telephonic conversations, and once we moved to Alberta, this dislike made it very difficult for him to communicate with his best friend, Mike.  We'd ask him if he had spoken to Mike lately, and he would reply, "Well, you know, if the phone doesn't ring, it's Mike."

Despite this, they would get together once a year or so and drink beer as if they hadn't been separated a day since they were children.  They have had close to 50 years of the most amazing friendship I have ever seen.

But now Mike is dying of cancer.

Mike has a wife, two children, and three grandchildren.  I hope all of his loved ones know that once he's gone, the phone may not ring, but it will always be him.

Please donate to cancer charities.  Please, please, please.  We're completely powerless against cancer unless we do everything we can to support research.  I'll be biking 200 km in June for this very reason.  For Mike, for Keith, for Hayley's Dad, for Michelle's Dad, for Brian's mom, and for everyone else I know who has suffered because of cancer.

Fuck you cancer.  Fuck you.