Spamday

 

It was on this day in 1937 that SPAM came onto the market. The canned meat product from Hormel Foods Corporation was given its name by a contest winner; the prize for his ingenuity was $100. On one occasion, a Hormel spokesperson said the name was short for “Shoulder of Pork and Ham”; on another, a company official said it was a conflation of the words “spice and ham.” All sorts of parodic acronyms have circulated over the years, including “Something Posing As Meat.” The original recipe, still sold as the “Classic” flavor, contains pork shoulder and ham meat, salt, water, sugar, and sodium nitrate. There’s a gelatinous glaze on top, which forms like that after the broth cools down.

Spam sold in the Americas is mostly produced in Austin, Minnesota — “Spam Town USA” and home of the SPAM museum. Hawaii’s residents consume more Spam per capita than the residents of any other state, and the canned meat has been nicknamed “The Hawaiian Steak.” Spam is the main course in the Israeli Defense Force’s combat meal kits, but the pork is replaced by beef so that it’s kosher.

There’s a Monty Python sketch that came out in 1970 where the actors go into a café and try to order breakfast, but almost everything on the menu contains Spam. One woman doesn’t want Spam in her breakfast and gets into an argument with the waitress, who tells her that the menu consists of “Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam, and Spam.” It’s from this Monty Python sketch that “spam” acquired the use so familiar today: unwanted or unsolicited e-mail. The first recorded use of the word in this way is in 1993. It’s also become a verb in the English language, for the action of sending out spam.

And the word “spam” itself, untranslated, is now a noun in French, Portuguese, and Vietnamese. The verb “to spam” in German is “spammen”; in Czech the verb is “spamovat”; and in Italian it’s “spammare.” There’s a new Monty Python’s musical, SPAMALOT, currently playing in San Francisco.

Spo-Reflections on Telephone Customer Service

I have a patient who is an ‘animal lover’.  She recently asked me if I agreed with the idea chimpanzees be reclassified as hominids. I responded if they did that we might also consider the proposal of delegating certain people to the ranks of Great Apes. I’ve started a little list, starting with those who run telephone customer services.  Many of us are dissatisfied with these telephone mazes. They seem to be run by men with diabolical thinking and complexity of mind, or in the new classification, by a bunch of monkeys. 

 

Medical insurance companies are the worst. Often when I write a prescription it comes back as ‘prior authorization required’. This involves spending a great deal of time on the telephone trying to locate a person. First there are friendly reminders I could be doing this on line (translation: we would rather I hang up). Second come the computer recorded options menu options, none I really want. Voice operated guides are the worst. Often I start pressing buttons at random or say odd words on the hope the system will assume I am an elderly person or an idiot, to direct me to the next available representative.  

Sometimes the programme hangs up on me after some cheerful euphamism for ‘f*ck off’.

 

After a real person is obtained the real battle starts. I want one thing (Rx approval) and they want something else (Rx denial). Some youngster with acne and a GED is going to question my medical judgment so I have to be on my toes. 

Being a shrink means I can play some really sinister mind games, which I don’t regret doing when it comes to health insurance companies. I’ve learned arguments using clinical logic gets me nowhere. I need to 

1. argue what I am doing will save them money or 
2. b) make them feel guilty for a denial.  

“Very well, I will convey to my patient you denied him his medication, the only one that prevents him from killing himself and everyone at the plant”. 

Ugly I know but patient’s health is at stake. 

 

It might take a group of monkeys with typewriters a long time to produce Hamlet but it looks to me as though they could make a start with customer service menus.

Doc in the Box – Ask a Shrink

 

Since “Ask a Shrink” was fun I thought I would try it again.                                                                     

This is your next opportunity to ask questions about mental health, its  treatment, medication, counseling, theory, etc. 

 

If I can answer I will do so – posting the response no later than this evening. 

What’s on your mind???

 

Speak.

Demand.

We’ll answer. 

Canada Day

 

July 1st is Canada Day.

I have Canadian roots on my father’s side; his mother’s family, The Gaulkers, came over from Ontario. They are descended from French Canadians of Montreal. 

 

I am proud of my Canadian background. I fancy retiring to Canada some day. 

Every year Someone and I go there for our summer holiday. Canada have The Stratford Festival, Shaw Festival, Toronto, Tim Horton doughnuts, and tea properly brewed, so what’s not to love? 

 

When we were growing up, Canada was due SOUTH of us so going there was routine.

 

My father still ends his phone calls with “Well, that’s aboot it (the aboot rhymes with coot)”.  

 

So have a Bloody Caesar, or a Molson.

A Message from the Board of Directors

 

It is our task as The Board of Directors to give to the stockholders of Spo-Reflections the semi-annual report. Some Spo-fans suggest these reports are not necessary but clever people like us who talk loudly in restaurants on cellphones see this as a deliberate case of undermining our task of interrupting the blog from time to time to annoy and make things generally more difficult. 

 

We are shocked and dismayed the author of Spo-Reflections continues to dismiss our thoroughly researched and sensible recommendations on how a blog should be operated instead he writes out whatever pops into his untreated ADHD head which mostly consists of random thoughts, childhood memories, MEMEs stolen from just about everywhere and (from time to time) attempts at humor all which we deem imprudent and without merit and absolutely failing to be chick-magnet. 

 

We are aware the attendance of Spo-Reflections continues at an all-time high but we believe this is statistical error primarily the result of people thinking they are going to find photos of George Clooney which makes the place resemble a venus fly trap but with less charm. 

 

Rest assured The Board of Directors is working as hard as it can to do whatever we can to make Spo-Reflections a beacon of seriousness and safe for democracy and a model of a modern major general if not Dr. Urspo will be replaced by the Surgeon General (whoever the hell that is) and Yes I said Yes I will Yes.

 

Signed,
Board of Directors,  MD, RN, OBE, etc.

Spo-Reflections on a quiet Sunday night at the end of June

Most Sunday nights I encounter a mood I nickname ‘Sunday Night Melancholy’.

It is a complex emotional state with many elements. There is bereavement the weekend is over. There is a sense of boredom – there are a lot of things I could do,  but I am too tired to do any of them. There is a quiet satisfaction of another week concluded. Although it is a tired time, I struggle against going to sleep, as my next conscious thought is Monday morning. 

It is often a quiet time. Music is off. I sit often sit outside in the dark on the patio, or in the pool. I feel the passing of Time.  I think of cosmic things, such as where I am going and what have I seen and done.  

SNM makes me think of loss and dissapointment. There is a nagging sense I have somehow failed. I missed out on Life, not unlike someone missing a train by a few minutes.

Often there is a sense of loneliness. I think of so many people I no longer know, and friendships that fell away. Sunday Night Melancholy stirs up emotions of loss and isolation. Whom do I have to call in the night and tell them I am troubled or sad? 

 

After 30 years of so I am familiar with SNM to know this passes. I go to bed, wake up on Monday as usual, and get into the week’s routine. 

In the day time of Monday, SNM sees a just a bad dream or a fleeting folly.  

 

And yet it returns, Sunday after Sunday, as if to say ‘you must face me’. 

40 Years Ago

 

I know many blogs will comment on the day. It is the 40th anniversary of Stonewall. Since some of my readers may not know what this is, let me tell you – in psychological terms.

40 years ago, there was a riot when police raided the Stonewall Bar in New York City.  It was a turning point, as these men and women ‘decided’ they would no long be Victims. There were no laws or social support to stop the horrible harassments and injustices towards which they were subjected.  
At some point, Victims say “no more!”.  They can not stand it.  They stand up and fight back. It is often ugly, scary, and very slow. It takes a very long time to change a culture.

Although it is painful for all, whenever a person or group refuses to stay in the Victim mode, we all benefit.We become more conscious; we become a better culture. 

There has been a lot of progress in 40 years. There is great need for more. Any group fresh out a Victim mode knows full well it is a slow progress. It scares and angers Others who feel threatened one way or another  by the maturation of ex-Victims.  

The ultimate goal of discarding Victim mentality is there are no Victims –  and no Persecutors. There are merely people, without  ”Them” and “Us” in the lexicon. No one claims either psychology as there is no need or desire.

The Great Work continues.     No more Victim  - ever.

Bear Film

 

I’ve decided to give up medicine and work for Bear Films.

 

Me and Rollo here will debut in a the new DVD “Spobear”.

 

It is a happy tale. After the opening scene where Rollo and I do some hugging we move into some heavy work of scratching each other’s back. I nibble his ears and tweak his nose some. The plot moves to me throwing Rollo in the air a few times.  My skill with a hair brush makes Rollo beg for more  - and I’ve missed a spot behind his left ear.

 

Winnie-the-Pooh tries to come over but he is rebuffed. 

 

Someone makes a cameo appearance to say “When you are done goofing off, would you please take out the recyclables?”

 

The climax has Rollo bouncing on my chest.  Afterwards, I have a cup of tea, and we fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

 

It won’t make a dime. 

Oh for a glass of tea !

The Sun Tea Glass Jar finally gave up the ghost. I have used it continuously for maybe a decade. The words “SUN TEA” faded away from exposure.  I certainly got my money’s worth from it.

 

Someone does not trust Sun Tea. On a few occasions he has quoted authorities who warn us about the hazards of making tea in the sun. Apparently heat, water, and leaves in an enclosed container creates a biohazard to rival The Black Death.  It should follow such childhood activities such as raw cookie dough and playing unsupervised into the dust heap, for safety’s sake and the public health.  

I see the point, although in my 20 years of making tea this way I have never been sick.

 

I know Someone points this out out of concern. 

I listen, and I think of his fondness for sushi.

 

We are trying something recommended by some tea authority Someone heard on NPR.  The speaker suggests making iced tea in the refrigerator using tea bags and cold water. This is ‘just as good’ and prevents you from dying from Sun Tea Black Death. 

 

My experience tells me tea has to be cooked to bring out its flavor. (for you coffee drinkers, does anyone make coffee without first brewing it?).  But is is worth a try, especially as I haven’t found a new sun tea jar yet. 

 

The first round of fridge-tea produced a rather weak drink.  On the positive, it does not have the astringency or bitterness sometimes tasted in iced tea. On the negative, it tasted more or less like brown-coloured water.  But it is only a first round. Perhaps using ‘proper’ tea leaves is an error;  next we will try Red Rose tea bags.  It’s such a potent cup. 

 

If ‘fridge tea’ does not work, there is always hot tea cooled down.

It is more work, but it allows me to blend black and green teas into a tasty blend of iced tea.  

 

I like my tea strong, dark, and slightly bitter – like my men.

More Gentleman Callers

 

Every once in a while I have to remind myself writing on the internet is for all to see.

This should be obvious; but I get into the fallacy I am writing for myself and ~ three dozen Spo-fans. Of course, this is nonsense. Every day Spo-Reflections gets nearly a thousand visitors. 

 

   I know the following people drop in -

 

Members of my family

Patients, past and present (and future for all I know)

Institutions using search engines to find out who is writing about them.  I was recently reminded of this one when I wrote about my B&B experience when we went up north – and there was a comment from the owner sitting inside. 

 

I also suspect the following drop in from time to time -

 

The Government

The American Psychiatric Association

Lawyers

The CIA, FBI, The Mormon Church and similar institutions. 

Whatever Goddess-Diva on whom I am reflecting. (a fellow blogger once got into some trouble for jocular remarks on one, only to be contacted by that Diva’s lawyer, asking him to knock it off). 

Aliens from Outer Space

 

With all these lovelies dropping by, I better have on clean underwear.