Monday, September 27, 2010
Pablove Across America Leaves LA!
Our friend Mariska Leyssius lined up an incredible sponsorship for this year's Pablove Across America: a tricked-out, hugemungous cube truck from Quixote Studios here in LA. It has a kitchen, plenty of storage space and a lift gate. A big step up from the RV we rented last year. We are deeply grateful to Mariska and Quixote for making this happen.
Dangerbird intern Suman Chatterjee pulled away from Dangerbird / Pablove HQ at 2pm today, and will arrive in Seattle on Thursday with bikes, supplies, and expendables all ready to roll back on down the highway to LA.
This video shows all the stuff it takes to make PAA happen—literally shows all the stuff.
Rick and Jeff On Their Final PAA 2010 Training Ride In Griffith Park
I'm hittin the road Wednesday. A few days of press and promo in Seattle for Pablove Across America. Minus the Bear are playing a Pablove benefit show at the Croc on Thursday night. Thank you ALL for your contributions. If you haven't made you way yet, please hit www.pablove.org
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Extended + Uninterrupted Pablove / Nikki Sixx Interview Available now
My convo with Nikki Sixx is now available on the Sixx Sense site without commercials or music. It's all Pablove.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Pablove + Nikki Sixx On The Airwaves
I spent an hour Wednesday afternoon with Ni
kki Sixx from Motley Crue. We talked about Pablo, Pablove, Dangerbird, family, life, and how music continues to change and charge our lives. The great thing is, we weren't just chatting—we were taping an interview for his nationally-syndicated radio show 'Sixx Sense.' I'm very proud of the chat Nikki and I had. He's a dad and an advocate, and, like, me, he was inspired to confront his addictions by a beautiful, gentle man named Bob Timmins. A couple minutes into our conversation, I felt like I was talking to an old friend. By the time the interview ended, Nikki pledged his support for The Pablove Foundation. Now we have another member of the Pablove Army. And this one has the attention of people all over the world. Very cool.Our conversation will air tonight around 9:30 p.m. on 55 stations around the U.S. If it's not airing in your city, you can listen online. If none of that works for you, we'll post it here when the interview goes on the 'Sixx Sense' site.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Pablovnomics
I just finished watching the documentary film based on the book 'Freakonomics.' Inspiring stuff. The book, if you haven't read it, is essentially about one thing—incentives—and whether baiting has any effect on the outcome of a situation. The book is famous for its reporting on a University Chicago study on whether ninth graders can be incentivized with cash to get better grades.
As the film wore on, I began to think about The Pablove Foundation, and incentive proposition we are putting forth in our messaging to the world. In my head, I coined the term Pablovnomics, and laughed aloud—to myself, since I'm home alone. Creepy, but true. Our dogs Chili and Beans must think I'm nuts.
If the incentive inherent in The Pablove Foundation isn't clear to you, allow me to dust it off:
In the construct of my mind, Pablovnomics is a simplistic paradigm. At one end, there is the confusion, hurt and the mortality mystery that is pediatric cancer. That's the end Pablo, Jo Ann, Grady and I ended up on.
On the other end of the spectrum is the complete eradication of pediatric cancer—no out-of-nowhere diagnoses, no loss of hair, appetite, body mass or school days for your child, and no loss of life at the hands of an invisible opponent. This end is the promised land. When we get to this end of the playing field, 'my daughter has cancer' will be no more cause for alarm than 'my daughter has a cold, we can't make your dinner party.' Cancer parents talk about the dream of a pediatric cancer diagnosis requiring only a trip to the drug store to buy a box of pills off the shelf.
The drug store scenario, and all that comes with it, is the incentive Jo Ann and I have. We want to see an absolute end to cancer. We want children to outlive their parents. We want for other people what we did not get to experience with Pablo. This is the fiery core of emotion that fuels our Pablove Foundation work.
And you know what? One day, we will be there, in the drug store, buying a Vanity Fair and pills to knock out a little girl's Wilms' Tumor, or a little boy's neuroblastoma.
The Pablovnomics incentive for me is manifold. I don't want you or anyone you or I know to go through what my son Pablo went through, or to lose a child to cancer. It's painful and the loss of purpose in one's life and clarity in the world is, so far for me, unending. But still, Jo Ann and I fight on. While working toward that goal, we want to contribute to the world in a way that displays a simple act: one group doing a little bit every day does a lot, and a bunch of groups doing daily has a great deal of power. This is something we've learned from our friends at Livestrong. And it's something we hold true.
When we ask you to spread our message in your social circles and on your social networks, it's not unclear to us what's in it for The Pablove Foundation. When we ask you to show up at an event, and to bring a few friends, the purpose behind the gathering of Pablove tribes is not oblique to us. When we ask you to open you wallet and drop your hard-earned cash into our coffers, it's for something deadly serious: to keep the balloon of hope afloat long enough to make a difference.
The incentive proposition of The Pablove Foundation is that simple—people helping kids to live, survive and prosper. And it's that complicated—all of us, running as fast as we can, until the Jonas Salk of the Cancer Generation stands up and hands over the goods.
When we ask you to give us some of your time and some of your money, and we shovel it into the Pablove furnace.
A snapshot of the Pablove capacity we're building toward: The Pablove Foundation Scientific Advisory Committee has been built, with the best forward-thinking researchers and clinicians—led by Dr. Leo Mascarenhas—from Harvard, Duke, USC, U of Michigan, Texas Children's, CHLA, City of Hope and other hubs of medical science wealth. The Pablove Foundation science crew will recommend to our board what research programs will make best use of our funds—which have been fueled by you. We will begin giving out research grants in the first quarter of 2011.
So, that's my speech about Pablovnomics and why everything you do to support us matters—a lot.
As the film wore on, I began to think about The Pablove Foundation, and incentive proposition we are putting forth in our messaging to the world. In my head, I coined the term Pablovnomics, and laughed aloud—to myself, since I'm home alone. Creepy, but true. Our dogs Chili and Beans must think I'm nuts.
If the incentive inherent in The Pablove Foundation isn't clear to you, allow me to dust it off:
In the construct of my mind, Pablovnomics is a simplistic paradigm. At one end, there is the confusion, hurt and the mortality mystery that is pediatric cancer. That's the end Pablo, Jo Ann, Grady and I ended up on.
On the other end of the spectrum is the complete eradication of pediatric cancer—no out-of-nowhere diagnoses, no loss of hair, appetite, body mass or school days for your child, and no loss of life at the hands of an invisible opponent. This end is the promised land. When we get to this end of the playing field, 'my daughter has cancer' will be no more cause for alarm than 'my daughter has a cold, we can't make your dinner party.' Cancer parents talk about the dream of a pediatric cancer diagnosis requiring only a trip to the drug store to buy a box of pills off the shelf.
The drug store scenario, and all that comes with it, is the incentive Jo Ann and I have. We want to see an absolute end to cancer. We want children to outlive their parents. We want for other people what we did not get to experience with Pablo. This is the fiery core of emotion that fuels our Pablove Foundation work.
And you know what? One day, we will be there, in the drug store, buying a Vanity Fair and pills to knock out a little girl's Wilms' Tumor, or a little boy's neuroblastoma.
The Pablovnomics incentive for me is manifold. I don't want you or anyone you or I know to go through what my son Pablo went through, or to lose a child to cancer. It's painful and the loss of purpose in one's life and clarity in the world is, so far for me, unending. But still, Jo Ann and I fight on. While working toward that goal, we want to contribute to the world in a way that displays a simple act: one group doing a little bit every day does a lot, and a bunch of groups doing daily has a great deal of power. This is something we've learned from our friends at Livestrong. And it's something we hold true.
When we ask you to spread our message in your social circles and on your social networks, it's not unclear to us what's in it for The Pablove Foundation. When we ask you to show up at an event, and to bring a few friends, the purpose behind the gathering of Pablove tribes is not oblique to us. When we ask you to open you wallet and drop your hard-earned cash into our coffers, it's for something deadly serious: to keep the balloon of hope afloat long enough to make a difference.
The incentive proposition of The Pablove Foundation is that simple—people helping kids to live, survive and prosper. And it's that complicated—all of us, running as fast as we can, until the Jonas Salk of the Cancer Generation stands up and hands over the goods.
When we ask you to give us some of your time and some of your money, and we shovel it into the Pablove furnace.
A snapshot of the Pablove capacity we're building toward: The Pablove Foundation Scientific Advisory Committee has been built, with the best forward-thinking researchers and clinicians—led by Dr. Leo Mascarenhas—from Harvard, Duke, USC, U of Michigan, Texas Children's, CHLA, City of Hope and other hubs of medical science wealth. The Pablove Foundation science crew will recommend to our board what research programs will make best use of our funds—which have been fueled by you. We will begin giving out research grants in the first quarter of 2011.
So, that's my speech about Pablovnomics and why everything you do to support us matters—a lot.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Pablove Across America 2010
In the name of Pablo Thrailkill Castelaz, and cancer kids and their families everywhere, Pablove Across America will roll again in 2010. This year, we will start on October 2 at the Space Needle in Seattle and roll straight down the west coast to Los Angeles. We will end at Pablo's grave at Forest Lawn. This event is The Pablove Foundation's biggest fundraising and heart gathering event. If you ride a bike, we'd love for you to sign up and join us. 20 cyclists have already signed up. This year, there's a weekly fundraising minimum for riders. If you are not a cyclist, please drop a donation into the bucket on the site. We have a serious goal this year: $500,000. We need our ranks to swell in order to meet this goal, so we're hoping you will help promote the ride via our social networking sites. The good news is that we're already 24% of the way to that goal.
While I have your attention on this topic, I wanna tell you something about Pablove Across America:
Last year, I was a man possessed. Possessed of a broken heart. Filled with 13 months of ingrown energy, sleepless nights, watching my son's spirit grow beyond description—so much so that it eventually left his body behind while it went on to the next place. I'm not sure what that next place is called. But I know Pablo is having a hell of a lot of fun there.
Some days on the bike, it was as if I were chasing after Pablo's spirit, trying to keep pace with it. Other days, I felt pain and longing and cosmic muck ripping through my abdomen and out my tear ducts. Every day, no matter what, I tried to commune with Pablo's spirit. My quest for connection to him carried me through the wet and wild humidity of the southeast, the stout hills around Austin and west Texas, the canyons of Arizona, and through the the rugged, Mars-like mountains of east California.
When we pedal away from the Space Needle on October 2, I do not know how I will feel, or what we'll experience. I do know that Pablo will be with me, with us, and we'll bring his incredible six-year-old energy with us to every hospital visit, and on every pedal stroke.
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