H. Alan Scott (@HAlanScott) has cancer and can’t stop thinking about it. It’s like cancer is a house guest that won’t get the hint to leave. Enter Cancer (@wonderfulbryan). “Cancer House Guest” is a short written by and starring H. Alan Scott and Bryan Wilson, directed by Ned Ehrbar (@nedrick). Follow Scott’s #Chemocation on Twitter.
“So I knew this kid in high school who got cancer. He died within the year. He was so great!”
“My Uncle had prostate cancer. He died.”
“Did you know that an estimated 360 people will die from testicular cancer in 2012?”
These are all statements I’ve heard from people since I’ve slowly began to return to normal life. I’ve always found getting the worst possible news from the people that I love most so much more reassuring that affirmations of love and support.
It’s amazing how certain words have totally different meaning now. Like “Death” of course, but also “Cancer,” “Patient,” “Tumor,” and the phrase “Hang in there!” I’m a fairly rational and levelheaded guy, but hearing “Hang in there!” ignites a defensive reaction that even I’m surprised by. It goes something like, “Oh, funny guy making a slight reference to my one testicle! Reeeeaaaaallllll FUNNY!”
Cancer is an uncomfortable topic for anyone, probably more uncomfortable for people that don’t have it. When you’re diagnosed, you’re thrust into a community you never chose to be apart of, but are nonetheless always going to be apart of. Reading countless survivor stories is nice, but they do nothing for me! In fact they just set up expectations that cannot be met. My cancer is nothing like your cancer, or worse, why am I so upset by my little testicular cancer when you’re dealing with ______(Insert More Serious Cancer Here_______?
My cancer was caught early, but I still need to go through chemotherapy. Nothing says “sick” like losing all your hair! I used to see people with no hair on the subway, and I’d feel sorry for them. Now I know different. They are people dealing with something they have no control over. Their bodies, like mine, are trying to kill them, and the only control they have is the decisions they make and their attitudes. I choose to be smart and happy.
I don’t know how I’m going to handle chemo. I’m prepared to feel very sick, and to be in a lot of discomfort. But I’m also prepared to know that I’m doing everything I can to kill this cancer inside me.
And please, avoid using the “D” word or feeling sorry for me. That being said, if looking at my bald head inspires you to….
- Buy me lunch
- Have sex with me
- Give me rides
- Offer an all expense paid trip to a country of my choosing
…. well, then maybe we can talk about a subtle form of pity.
The last time I saw my father was in 1997 when we went to see Titanic. He’s not dead or anything, we just don’t talk anymore.
My father never wasn’t conventional. My parents divorced when I was young and my father got custody of me and my siblings. We lived with him for six years until he sent us to live with our mother (on June 7, 1993, not to be too specific). It was in those six years that the groundwork was set for the man I would eventually become. And yes, I am really a man.
I never had a bedtime. Not because he didn’t want me to have a bedtime, but rather because I insisted on watching “The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson.” It was there that I saw the stand up comics that would become my inspirations for pursuing the same goals.
He encouraged my obsessions with Bette Midler, Madonna, and Oprah, even though they didn’t necessarily fit the mold of what makes a “young man.” He let me watch any movie I wanted to, no matter its rating. How else was I going to see my first crush, Tom Cruise, in Rain Man?
We don’t speak anymore because of the incredible amount of negative history that is there. As I age, I’m able to separate the things he did from the things I’m grateful for. Nothing is ever perfect, especially in relationships, but what matters most is one’s outlook on the bigger picture. He wasn’t a dad, he was more that distant Uncle who overstays his welcome at Thanksgiving. And that’s okay.
I see him in me, both the good and the bad, but being able to rationalize that is what makes me a man. Well, that, and this…
Ever been on a great date? What’s that like?
H. Alan Scott (Huffington Post, Celebrity Twitter Directory, Time Out “Joke of the Week, Oprah said his name), brings you a webisode about a gay man searching for a traditional romance in a world filled with assholes. (Ed note: No, really, literal photos of assholes, on the phone. On MY phone.)
Ever been on a great date? What’s that like?
H. Alan Scott (Huffington Post, Celebrity Twitter Directory, Time Out’s “Joke of the Week,” SRSLY LOL, and Oprah said his name), brings you a webisode about a gay man searching for a traditional romance in a world filled with assholes. (Ed note: No, really, literal photos of assholes, on the phone. On MY phone.)
Jay-Z came out in support of gay marriage only because Beyonce kept nudging him to the left, to the left…
This will be the best part of your day. Trust. Me. @MittRomney #BuzzFeed
A tribute to mom fashion.
So much the best.
Bryan Wilson and I iF*ck!
I have a similar shirt @BarackObama, except mine reads, “This Is What a Jewish Feminist Looks Like.”
Getting my body beach ready for my upcoming vacation ain’t easy, but it’s moderately funny.
Have you heard of the new fad in social networking? It’s called FourSquare, and it’s basically a more interactive Yelp. How it works is when you’re out and about, you jump on FourSquare and check in, maybe write a little thing about what you think of the place. Then your friends get a pop up on their phones letting you know where you are (weird!), and what you think of the place (who cares!). The more you visit a place, the more points you get, resulting in you eventually becoming Mayor of a particular location (and owning that shit!).
Being a social networking slut (follow me on Twitter), of course I use it. I’m often distracted by where my friends are visiting (one friend makes a daily trip to the bakery. no judgement, I swear!), and enjoy catching them in little white lies (“I swear, I really have a sensitivity to gluten, I just go to that bakery for the coffee!”).
In my case, my check-in’s paint a unique and well rounded lifestyle. Of course I have many points from comedy clubs, I’m very high up in attendance at Crunch gym locations, and I hold my own with the FourSquare bar lovers! My day job is at a very popular AIDS service location in New York City. It’s a wonderful job, I love it, and I check in there daily. I’m so close to gaining Mayor status!
So what does this say about me to somebody who doesn’t know me? Essentially they see me as an incredibly physically fit comedian with an alcohol problem who may or may not have AIDS.
Maybe I should rethink this FourSquare thing?
My mother will whisper things she doesn’t think are appropriate to say out loud. I remember once, when talking about female wrestlers, she said in a regular volume, “You know most of them,” and then whispered, “lesbians.”
I don’t know if this is a uniquely American thing. When I studied in Germany I wanted a bagel, but there never were any to be had. Lots of other pastries, but no bagels. I asked why, but they never gave a reason other than, “we do not eat them.” But let’s be honest, Jews are famous for their bagels, but they’re famous in Germany for other reasons. So there they just avoid rather than whisper.
What’s amazing is that usually when people whisper things they think might offend others, it’s almost always in the company of like minded people. For example, my mom will say, “So I went to my hairdresser,” and then whisper, “she’s black,” standing around 4 upper-middle class white women in their 50′s. I have a feeling they probably have said/heard worse.
Perhaps Obamas ascendancy to the Presidency will squelch the use of the unnecessary whisper. It would sound a little silly to say, “Obama is the first,” and then whisper, “black President.” But maybe part of the Obama strategy was to fool all of those middle aged Midwesterners into thinking he’s just very tan, I mean, they did play up the fact that he’s from Hawaii. It’s conceivable they had no idea he’s… well, you know… black, shhhh.