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Tonight we hear Earth Kitt !!!
She is coming to town to give sing some songs with the Symphony.
One of the songs will be “I’m Still Here”.
I haven’t been this excited since my first trip to Key West.
For those who haven’t read my earlier posts, Earth Kitt and I have a special bond. When I first saw her she was on Batman, and I deduced the truth; she is actually from outer space. Since this revelation she uses my brain as a rendezvous to communicate with aliens from other worlds. What else explains the sudden loud renditions of her songs in my head? I can imitate her voice so perfectly that it must be possession.
At first I found it charming; now I find it a bit pesky. Having your head used a motel or modem is a nuisance. But I don’t begrudge Ms. Kitt too much; I love her so.
I hope I can meet her and shake her hand and give break the psychic connection. It will be like passing the Runes. Physical contact could be a mistake – what if this causes her to completely take over me? (Someone feels this has already happened.)
Whatever happens, I am pleased as punch to hear my Diva-Goddess in person.
My first experience with iced tea was through my mother. She had a metal pitcher in which she put a few Red Rose tea bags, and place it in the summer sun. Her mother, my grandmother, always drank her tea hot, so I was intrigued mother (who never drank hot tea) did what she did.
Iced tea makes me think of the month of June, and of strawberries and family dinners on the back porch.
I’ve had several jars over the decades in which I brewed sun tea. These pitchers had a short life span; they break after a while. My current one has the words ‘Sun Tea” on it side, but after years in the sun the words have faded away. The yellow plastic handle is cracking so I believe it is a matter of time for this one to go. It had a good life.
One of the advantages to living in Arizona is the intense sunshine. It makes for good brewing. Someone likes to point out the health authorities don’t consider the heat of sun tea intense enough to kill off the nasties, but he’s not the boss of me and he eats sushi and tartar so there.
I just know all those lovely anti-oxidants in tea overrides any problems.
I use a large tea ball that holds about 1/3 cup of loose leaf tea. I use a Chinese ‘red’ tea called Yunnan. (sometimes out of nostalgia I will use Red Rose, and think on my mother and gran). Yunnan is better; it doesn’t get bitter for sitting out in the sun all day long. The water starts out a pale ochre; by the end of the day it turns dark brown. Sometimes a leaf gets loose from the teaball; it is dreamy to watch it float in the brew.
There is a quiet satisfaction from the ritual of preparing sun tea.
It combines the elements of fire (sun), water, and earth (the tea leaves).
The water is local; the tea is from across the world; and the sunlight is from far away.
In a world of flux and change, the summer time ritual of brewing sun tea is my link to Zen.
One of my favorite presenting problems of all time was a young man who came in for a temper problem. He was a member of the Hell’s Angels. Apparently they thought his temper bad enough they wouldn’t let him back in until it was more in control.
How bad can that be that the Hell’s Angels tells you ‘you need to get your temper in control”?
New patients show up all the time due to moves, change of insurance, or their usual doctor is no longer available. Some of them show up on very complicated medication regiments. One woman takes 8 medications for her moods. I have tried to minimize them two times; each time she fell apart. Recently her primary doctor added a 9th – and now she feels the best she has ever been. Like a Chinese puzzle I don’t dare tinker with it any further; 9 meds it shall remain. Yikes.
A few come in on a monthly basis not because they need their medication adjusted but to talk. They can’t or won’t see a therapist, so I do a sort of 15 minute check-in therapy with them. It is mostly listening. I hardly ever say anything really. But they seem to feel it does some good. It’s nice to know that merely being there for someone is still of benefit.
A man who smokes 3 packs per day voiced antipathy of taking a nicotine substitute as “It could be harmful and I don’t think they are 100% safe”.
Signs of the apocalypse; people are coming in with cell phones – and answering them during their appointment!
I usually keep going, raising my voice and ask about their ability to keep an erection or have an orgasm on their medication.
Memorial Day weekend marked the anniversary of my move to Arizona.
I moved to Phoenix Memorial Day weekend 2005.
I start my 4th year living in the Southwest.
There are some things I like about the Southwest –
The blood quickly ‘thins’ out here, and I’ve grown accustomed to the relatively mild winters.
I enjoy the dryness – there is hardly any humidity!
I no longer have autumnal seasonal affective disorder without the usual cues.
It can be very beautiful here; New Mexico is even better than Arizona. I am told Utah is even better.
The hop, skip, and a jump to Palm Springs is nice.
Most of the time, the Southwest feels like an adventure.
I am not certain if it feels like ‘home’ yet. I suppose it isn’t – I catch myself using phases like “back home in Michigan.” Here are things I long to have –
Thunderstorms
Real seasons.
Nearby Family and Friends
Growing vegetables
A vibrant city with lots going on (viz. living in Chicago)
There are many disagreeable elements to living here; most of them are ‘Phoenix’ rather than “Southwest’ –
The air is terrible.
People drive like idiots, with sudden highway exits from the far left lane.
This is a red state and the mentality shows.
You have to drive everywhere to do things.
Strip malls and urban sprawl go for miles and miles.
The summer heat can be as wearing as the winters in Michigan.
We are sticking it out though. I have no idea how long we will be here. I don’t worry about it. I will leave it to the Fates. They tend to be snowbirds anyway.
My body seems to be of little good these days.
Last Friday, while bending over to pick up some shoes, my lower back went into a spasm like I have never experienced. It was bilateral and muscle related. I was thankful it was not a slipped disc. It put me into a stiffness that prevented simple maneuvers such as standing up. I walked like Groucho Marx. I required a cane on which to hoist myself. It is now Tuesday morning and while it is improving, it acts up whenever I try to move too quickly.
And I was just getting good with the trainer too.
It remains the allergy season from hell, and the various medications have not helped. I am so tired of sneezing. My eyes continually itch. Worse, the nose closes down at night time and I am a ‘mouth breather’. The dryness of it causes me to wake up – I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in ages. Last week it evolved into bronchitis.
So I can’t breathe and I can’t stand up.
Over Memorial Day I ate something bad and now the GI system is causing troubles. The bloating is so bad I feel pregnant. I am thankful the nausea hasn’t led to throwing up – I really hate throwing up.
I dyed my whiskers. All my gray is located in my chin; the goatee I am sporting makes the gray stand out even more. So I dyed them. It looks OK but it makes the gray in the temples stand out now.
Next month I have an expensive visit with the dentist. He wants to fill in some areas where I have grinded my teeth down. Afterwards, I am to get a night guard, which apparently stops me from grinding my teeth into an application for dentures.
Such is aging.
It makes me angry to see how President Bush has caused so much damage to the nation and the world from his war. I treat some veterans who have returned from wars overseas. War is always hell, but these young people continually report the uselessness and senselessness of the whole endeavor. They are quite hurt, perhaps for life. The VA system (always a problem) does them little to no good. One of my patients was ‘rewarded’ for his services by placement in a VA job where his immature out-of-control co-workers run around unsupervised while the powers-that-be blame him for having PTSD. Can you imagine?
It makes me angry how we squander so much on pork barrel projects and “defense” while so many people suffer from lack of basic needs.
It makes me angry to see how the judicial system is stacked towards the person with money, not towards justice.
It also makes me angry how quickly Americans exploit each other’s fragility and misfortunate as opportunities to sue. I recently saw a woman fall in front of a store; you could see the glee in her eyes as she began asking witnesses to attest; she was already planning her lawsuit for all she could get.
It makes me angry that gay people are used as a scare tactic by moralistic hypocrites to create policy with their particular religious beliefs.
It makes me angry people remain ignorant and fearful enough to ‘buy it’.
It makes me angry to see the Western world subsidize foodstuffs into fuel; it is a process without proven savings AND derives the poor of affordable food.
It makes me angry to hear Americans scream for ‘no government interference in their lives – until this philosophy inconveniences them. A natural disaster arrives or their own folly causes grief – then they demand government assistance.
It makes me angry to see ignorance shout down wisdom.
It makes me angry to see waste of any kind.
It makes me angry to see cruelty.
It makes me angry we continue to want simple black and white answers when faced with a fear or a challenge.
It makes me very angry indeed.
Last week, for the first time, it cost me over 50$ to fill my gas tank. I am not happy with that, but I can get by. I worry though for others. What is this like for the man with a family of four whose job is in jeopardy of going overseas? His SUV (to accommodate his family) must gobble up gas in great quantities and frequency.
Food prices are going up, so we are cutting back on some of the imperial tid-bits. We are eating out less, which is good for us anyway. I skimp a bit on my daily luncheon now. We are meatless at home a few nights anyway.
Again, we can get by.
But what is it like for that family of four?
I encounter ‘Joe America” at my job. People used to come in with intellectual worries about self-identity or something haunting from their past. Nowadays they are worried about keeping their house, their job, their insurance; and where are they going to get the money to pay for food and medications?
I am trained to prescribe medicine ideal for their clinical needs; I’ve learned many folks would rather take a less desired alternative if it means 20 dollars less in a co-pay. 20 dollars a month doesn’t sound like a lot to me yet it is a deal breaker for many.
It makes me realize how fortunate I am; I should count my blessings more often, and be more consciously grateful.
How others survive I don’t know.
While I was listening to a patient tell me about her PMS I had a cosmic insight. It was one of those answers to Life, the Universe, and Everything insights, and now I’ve forgotten what it was. What’s worse I can’t imagine what it could have been. I keep trying to remember but I can only come up with is something about breathing.
I asked Someone what he thought I might have thought, but he’s not a good mind reader with his allergies so active; he could not tell me. Instead he told me to take out the recyclables. By then I gave up trying to retrieve any insights.
My ADHD brain tends to flit around like a hummingbird. As I age it is getting worse. Last week I announced to Someone my mind was going. Nonplussed, he told me to tell the doctor at my last check up.
My physician, who should have known better, wanted to know if I was suffering from depression. He and I have a few patients in common and knowing them makes my doctor fear I am one breath away from a nervous breakdown. (I think he fears if I go off the deep end he’ll be left alone to manage this bunch). Anyway this isn’t depression. I know all about depression and this is different.
I left the office with an assurance my blood pressure, cholesterol, and kidney and liver functions were fine.
What I didn’t get is an answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything – or how to deal with hummingbirds.
I would ask the woman with the PMS but I don’t remember which one she was.
As is often the case with houses, ours decided to have several major problems occur at once.
Water started to bubble up from underneath the bathroom carpeting. Yesterday’s plumber diagnosed a busted water-softener tube. Apparently the builders used a plastic tube not copper, and the tube has cracked. Not only do we have to replace the tubing, the carpet will have to go. And there are the concerns of mold and dry rot.
The outside water irrigation system is in cahoots with lighting system; both are acting badly; we should replace both.
Last night the garage door system went bezerk. I can open the door, but I can’t close it from the outside. It goes down a bit, stops to think, and goes back up. Then the light bulb flashes on and off, which I interpret as the system sticking its tongue out at me.
It is ‘bug season’ in Arizona and we are catching friends of DougT scurrying around the place. Worse, we’ve opened drawers to find Gregor Samsa and his sister Sue. It is time to call the exterminator. I hate chemicals but it beats bugs in the silverware drawer.
Our computer is running oh so slow. We want to take it in for a diagnostic and a tune up. I wonder if this is better than merely buying a new one. Prior to going to the shoppe, I need to rid the computer of some personal files and dump the ‘art photos’.
The outside sound system doesn’t seem to be working. The entertainment centre pixies have it criss-crossed enough to require a professional to untangle it all.
These matters are priority over our desire to paint the house – that damn dragon painting in the guest room is beginning to annoy me to no end.
Archetypes are not fixed entities. As cultures evolve, new archetypes appear. Classical Jungians argue the new ones are only versions of the traditional archetypes. But modern archetypes and complexes appeal to the current psychology. People know immediately what I mean when I mention such modern archetypes as;
The Yuppie
The Computer Geek
The Terrorist
The Bully
An archetype I find useful is The Spock Complex, based on the character from Star Trek. Jung would have called this complex an overcompensated ‘Thinking” complex. Whatever the name; this complex is about too much thinking and not enough feeling.
For those who don’t know Mr. Spock, he was on Star Trek. He was the advisor to Captain Kirk AKA the Ego who took in information and made the decisions. Spock was from the planet Vulcan. On Vulcan, Vulcans cast out all their emotions to function on logic alone.
The Spock complex is mostly seen in men who have learned to suppress their emotions lest they be labeled frail or unmanly. We all know people who have a large Mr. Spock complex – they are the ‘thinkers’ and don’t have emotional reactions. They seem to be without feelings; they can be‘the cold fish’.
Like any complex, The Spock Complex can become ‘bloated’ with energy and take over as the ego.
The positive attributes of this complex makes for good engineers, surgeons, and scientists. On the negative, Spock types don’t make good lovers or parents. They are not ‘people persons.’
Keep in mind Vulcans don’t lack feeling; they merely suppress them. Spock was no different. Mr. Spock was really half-Vulcan. His mother was an Earth woman, who had all the feelings of a human being. He had the additional complexity that he didn’t belong to either tribe. He doesn’t quite fit in with Earth people; he is apart from his home planet of Vulcan.
His constant vigilance towards emotions and his search for identity make him an appealing modern archetype.
