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More Prince Hal
Apr. 28th, 2012 07:14 amCassandra and Allan coming up this weekend. I’m so-o-o excited to see them!
And RTT got into the Syracuse Environmental Science program.
Originally, he’d been waitlisted but the Dean of the Syracuse Public Policy School, to whom he’d presented his senior project on smokeable incense, apparently pulled some strings on his behalf. The Dean of Admissions called RTT personally, adding, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you hear from the Policy School in the near future.”
Sort of amazing how smart he’s become.
I mean, I’ve always known he was brilliant, but he was such a slacker for so long that I figured his intelligence was kind of like a radio he kept in the back of the closet -- sometimes, he’d turn it on; mostly, it stayed off.
What’s really interesting is how focused he is. The creative writing stuff (Purchase) is fun but it’s like a video game. RTT wants to go to law school, an Ivy League law school, and he wants to get rich. In this, the invisible specter of big brother Max is very apparent: Max hasn’t been much of an actual presence in RTT’s life this past three years but I guess he still casts a long shadow. Max went to Stanford. RTT has been reviewing his college options using that yardstick.
In other news, I’d be really surprised if my obnoxious next door neighbor makes it another week. Stage 4 liver cancer is a death sentence from the start, but he didn’t know that, and the doctors did what the doctors always do: “We’ll take out the diseased part of your liver -- we’ll give you a special kind of chemo --” None of it would have worked. Craig figured he’d do what he had done his entire life -- make ‘em wait until he was ready. He went to Florida. He stayed in Florida past the date they’d scheduled the liver surgery for, and by the time he came back, the .02 percent chance of survival, or whatever it was, had slipped to zero. No operation. No chemo. Bang, bang. You’re dead.
When he heard that, he crumpled.
He’d had this long wrangle with doctors over pain medication. He wasn’t really in pain, he just liked getting high. Why the hell not? But one of his docs wrote a letter that went into his chart: “… drug seeking behavior…” And then no doctor would give him pills. And then one doctor finally agreed to give him pills. And bam! just like that he started needing them for the pain.
I don’t like Janis particularly but you can’t help feeling sorry for her. This was love and redemption late in life. I’ve mentioned before that Craig wasn’t -- isn’t -- stupid, at his best had a kind of vitality and charisma. Poor Janis, drab as dishwater her entire life, figured she’d got herself a catch. Never mind that she had to support him. And now she figures it’s Love Story with herself in the Ryan O’Neal role.
And RTT got into the Syracuse Environmental Science program.
Originally, he’d been waitlisted but the Dean of the Syracuse Public Policy School, to whom he’d presented his senior project on smokeable incense, apparently pulled some strings on his behalf. The Dean of Admissions called RTT personally, adding, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you hear from the Policy School in the near future.”
Sort of amazing how smart he’s become.
I mean, I’ve always known he was brilliant, but he was such a slacker for so long that I figured his intelligence was kind of like a radio he kept in the back of the closet -- sometimes, he’d turn it on; mostly, it stayed off.
What’s really interesting is how focused he is. The creative writing stuff (Purchase) is fun but it’s like a video game. RTT wants to go to law school, an Ivy League law school, and he wants to get rich. In this, the invisible specter of big brother Max is very apparent: Max hasn’t been much of an actual presence in RTT’s life this past three years but I guess he still casts a long shadow. Max went to Stanford. RTT has been reviewing his college options using that yardstick.
In other news, I’d be really surprised if my obnoxious next door neighbor makes it another week. Stage 4 liver cancer is a death sentence from the start, but he didn’t know that, and the doctors did what the doctors always do: “We’ll take out the diseased part of your liver -- we’ll give you a special kind of chemo --” None of it would have worked. Craig figured he’d do what he had done his entire life -- make ‘em wait until he was ready. He went to Florida. He stayed in Florida past the date they’d scheduled the liver surgery for, and by the time he came back, the .02 percent chance of survival, or whatever it was, had slipped to zero. No operation. No chemo. Bang, bang. You’re dead.
When he heard that, he crumpled.
He’d had this long wrangle with doctors over pain medication. He wasn’t really in pain, he just liked getting high. Why the hell not? But one of his docs wrote a letter that went into his chart: “… drug seeking behavior…” And then no doctor would give him pills. And then one doctor finally agreed to give him pills. And bam! just like that he started needing them for the pain.
I don’t like Janis particularly but you can’t help feeling sorry for her. This was love and redemption late in life. I’ve mentioned before that Craig wasn’t -- isn’t -- stupid, at his best had a kind of vitality and charisma. Poor Janis, drab as dishwater her entire life, figured she’d got herself a catch. Never mind that she had to support him. And now she figures it’s Love Story with herself in the Ryan O’Neal role.
