Hello Kitty, the Human Spirit, and Showing Cancer How We Do

Years ago, the buddies and I discussed the most ridiculous road trips imaginable. True boundary busters, like flying around the world for the weekend, showing up at work on Monday, and when somebody asked, “What did you do this weekend?,” responding with, “Well, me and the boys flew around the world, with pit stops in … .”

We let the around-the-world-in-a-weekend trip idea slide, but we began to focus on another that fit the bill for ridiculousness – flying to Australia for a concert. Just a concert. Fly “down under,” hit the gig and fly back. We joked about how we’d be cocktailing at SFO ahead of time, then hopping on a plane, whooping it up and talking about how awesome it was, then watching a couple of movies, and then … getting totally bummed out realizing we still had 10 hours of flying to do. And, that was just for the way down!

We were going to do it too, or at least I think we were going to do it, but the show we had earmarked, a U2 performance, was cancelled as the Edge’s daughter was going through a health crisis. 

So, back to around the world, right? My friend Paul and I did end up taking a modified version of that road trip in 2008. Not a weekend, but two weeks in total, from San Francisco to Honolulu, Tokyo, Osaka, Dubai, Istanbul, Rome, Barcelona, Dublin, and back to San Francisco. It was on that trip that the legend of Hello Kitty was born.

We had a night flight from Osaka to Dubai, but when we checked in, we were told our standard-sized carry-on bags were too big to be accomodated. That wasn’t going to work, particularly for Paul, as he wanted to make sure his computer and other essential electronics would stay with us in-flight. So, Paul went to an airport gift shop and purchased a small roller bag. A nifty black roller bag with a nice, big Hello Kitty emblem on it. 

Spectacular.

I remember on the trip him showing the bag to a couple of typically super good-looking Air Italia flight attendants and asking them what they thought. One turned her nose up in the air and snorted, “It’s for little girls.” We both responded, “That’s what makes it so funny!”

Anyways, out of a two week trip, we ended up rocking Hello Kitty for well over half of it. Hello Kitty was our girl!

Fast forward to 2019, the year of my beginnings with multiple myeloma. Paul and I had planned on spending most of September in Europe with our wives. Then the diagnosis came, and the uncertainty as to the timing of an inevitable stem cell transplant. September’s travels were cancelled well in advance, but, without my knowledge, Paul got tickets to see U2 in New Zealand in November, not knowing when or if I would have a stem cell transplant, and, if I did, on the off chance that I would be fully recovered and able to make the trip.

Now, for a couple of Bay Area residents, seeing U2 in New Zealand isn’t that much of a stretch at all. Together with Paul, I’ve seen U2 seven times, and only twice has it been in the United States (and one of those two was in Honolulu at that). 

Unfortunately for me, I was destined to miss this trip, as I was right in the middle of the worst of the stem cell transplant and its chemotherapy treatments. So, that posed a problem for Paul – what to do? Does he just not go at all? 

Well, not going would mean cancer wins, and eff that. We teach cancer how to live, not the other way around.

So, Paul set his mind on going. A down-and-back road trip, just for the show. For me and for showing cancer who’s boss. 

First up, he needed Hello Kitty. Amazon settled that with an awesome Hello Kitty fanny pack delivered to his door. After that, a tooth brush, a passport, some cash and … that’s about all. 

Full commitment.

The Hello Kitty fanny pack turned out to be a conversation starter. After all, what’s the deal with a grown ass man wearing a fanny pack to begin with, much less a Hello Kitty fanny pack? Those conversations turned to the purpose of the fanny pack, the remembrance of two friends taking a big trip and, most importantly, the promise of more trips to come in the future. And, in turn, those conversations led into the commonality of shared stories and experiences across us humans. 

Paul even met a cancer survivor on the plane who had been through a transplant and was living her best life (her advice to me for Paul to pass along: follow to the letter the regimen the doctors prescribe and live healthy). All along the way, people wanted to know the story, wanted to learn more.

And, the word spread. 

Arriving in Auckland, Paul took a long cab ride to his hotel to rest up ahead of the concert, and, along the way, struck up a conversation with the cab driver (while passing by One Tree HIll, for you U2 fans, off in the distance). After a little nap at the pool and a shower in his room, Paul set off – sans fanny pack – to the bar for a cocktail before heading off to the show.

Sitting at the bar, Paul struck up a conversation and before long the guy said, “Wait a second. You’re that fanny pack guy, aren’t you?” It seems the cab driver had shared Paul’s story with an entire bus load of concert goers on holiday in New Zealand. Everybody at the bar already knew of Paul and his story before he got there.

It didn’t just end there, with stories. People looked to help too, in whatever way they could. After the concert, one VIP concert goer gave Paul his commemorative U2 Joshua Tree 35th anniversary LP to bring back and give to me. Another, a concert goer from Australia, told Paul she was going to paint a picture for me. One insisted that Paul bring back a New Zealand All Blacks rugby jersey for me – you can’t go all the way to New Zealand and not bring back an All Black jersey, right? 

And on and on and on. 

Paul visited me over at our temporary housing right after he came back. While it was a lot of time on an airplane, the time zone differences weren’t dramatic, and thus jet lag wasn’t a problem – it turns out the oceanic road trip is quite feasible if you’re willing to sit through the flight. In return, I got a ticket stub, an album, a jersey and a possible painting out of the trip I didn’t even take. I got a lot more than that too. 

The human spirit is so inspirational to me. We’re all so much more similar to one another than different, and all it takes to discover that is an openness to engage, to listen and to understand. And, it only takes minutes. 

Cancer’s not the end. Far from it. And, in many respects, it’s the beginning.

For me, I’ve come to realize that cancer doesn’t bring the fear of dying. Rather, it’s the fear of not living while being alive.

The human spirit rises above all. The Dali Lama says humans are born to die. Far from me to argue with his holiness, but I say we’re born to do. And with that, look out for Hello Kitty to cross paths with you while we spread the good word!

Thank you, Paul. Thanks for taking me along, and bringing back even more. Love you, brother. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

UPDATE, January 31

Last night, Paul presented to me this wonderful painting, “In the Hands of Love, Joshua Tree,” created by Rebecca Collett, an artist in western Australia – yet another person he met on the Hello Kitty trip.

The painting is strikingly beautiful, both in color and texture. And, another shining example of the love and compassion of the human spirit. Thank you, Rebecca! It’s getting hung in a place of honor in the home music studio!

For more on Rebecca, check out her website at https://rebeccacollett.com.