So remember when I had cancer?

It's been gone since January, but I am still in recovery mode. My beard is still too scraggly and my saliva glands haven't totally come back (though in the last few weeks, I've been able to eat sandwiches and pizza that I couldn't eat before).

But none of that matters. What matters is that cancer ruined my golf game. Instead of shooting in the 70s and hitting 250 yard drives, I was shooting in the high 80s and low 90s with drives that fell short of 200 yards.

It was like a preview of what my game will be like when I'm in my 80s.

Well, in the last month I've made a recovery where it really mattered. I am shooting in the 70s again, including a 74 yesterday from the blue (back) tees at Sundale. My drives are where they used to be.

My short game, which I had lost, has returned. I know that because when I made some recovery shots yesterday, my opponent got mad at me. That's a wonderful feeling.

The point of this blog is that it took about eight months for my strength and game to return. Chemo and radiation can't knock you down forever.

My beard and spit can wait a little more if they want to. Playing good golf overshadows those pesky maladies.

Fairways and greens forever. And Stand up to Cancer (what a great ad).

I long for the days when we made sanctimonious decisions and did what we in the newspaper business felt was right and good for you.

Now we listen to you and we make bad decisions.

One of them is getting rid of the comic strip Sherman's Lagoon. This ranks up there, although not quite as egregious, as when we got rid of Doonsebury.

We relied on the public input for that too.  The deal with Doonsebury is even if most of the public didn't want it, it was far too important for the people who did.

My problem with public input is it is so far away from getting a representative cross sample.  I'm tempted to say that when we do a comic poll, what you get is whiners.

Sherman's Lagoon is a delightful strip about sharks, turtles and crabs who make fun of people.

One strip had the friendly shark solve a dictator problem by eating him. Another recent one was when the crab learned that his mail-order ministry license came with a record club membership.

If anyone here had done the correct thing, which is to ask me what comic strip should go, I would have gladly suggested Get Fuzzy whose humor, if any, is so obscure, I shake my head every time I read it.

I just couldn't let this latest travesty go without a comment.