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Today I am among my loved ones. There are 18 of us, most of them well over four feet, and many with dogs and small children. Oh the Joy! Oh the pain! Happily Brother #4 is bringing homemade IPA brew (no rubbish) and Father found a 1995 Bordeaux – lovely! Happy Quafftide, indeed!
There are more imperial tidbits today than in the rest of the year.
I just better get them cha-cha heels.
May your holiday be a jolly one!
Urspo A.K.A as Spo A.K.A Michael (not Mondays).
It is that time of year again.
Spo-fans know I enjoy reading Tarot. All Hallow’s eve is the best time of the year to consult the cards about life, love, and health.
If you fancy a Hallowe’en Tarot consultation, leave in the comment your name and email address (if I don’t have it). Tell me too if you want a “general reading” or do you have a more specific question.
I will consult the cards on All Hallow’s Eve and tell you what they say !
I came home today to find a parcel on the doorstep.
Bright fuchsia paper portends something fabulous.
Behold! A Bulgy Bear!
His calling card says my name is Robert.
We met three years ago when I visited Delaware for the blogger meet-up.
Robert is a lovable little fellow.
I love to kiss bears!
For some time I have pondered on the preservation of my blog. There is ten years of industry into this project and I would like it saved. Even though it is on the internet I don’t quite trust this as a guarantee of indefinite security. WordPress may not always be. Maybe the site is prsently planning regular fees to continue or even to access my work. Perhaps someday I will go on line and poof! the website and all my work is gone in a click! Some villain could hack into the blog and demand ransom to release it. These are pessimistic if not paranoid conjectures but in the infamous words of Judy Tenuta “It could happen.”
Call me old fashioned but I think my best bet for peace and posterity is to print it all on paper and bind it in a book. It would be a ponderous project. Ten years of near daily writing (with more coming out on a regular basis) is a long tedious task of cut and paste. And I would want to ‘edit’ the mistakes before saving each entry. Do I really have time and energy to do this?
Unless I can come up with an alternative – recommendations from Spo-fans are greatly appreciated! – I feel no choice if I want some serenity on the subject.
In the book “I, Claudius” the Emperor Claudius sets out to write the history of his family for he knows after he dies ‘the truth’ will be eliminated by his loathsome relations. He wants to outwit them; he wants someone someday to know what happened. A Sybil told him no one will find it for centuries but then “Claudius will speak clear”. He knows he need not worry about assuring the project’s safety. History shows things are often better saved if they are left forgotten on some back shelf or stuffed in a cupboard to be stumbled across without intent to do so.
This Roman vignette inspires me to print out the entries, bind them in a tome, and leave it among my papers and hope my niblings or their descendants discover it. Perhaps it will become a family heirloom, a memoir of the late dotty uncle (“you know, the queer one who lived out in Arizona”). Maybe Spo-Reflections will be published posthumously.
OK, this is a silly whim and fanatasy. I will be content with a paper copy lest Spo-reflections, WordPress, or the internet cracks up or I drop dead this week from poisoned mushrooms.
In the final scene of the TV series of “I, Claudius” the dead emperor talks with the Sybil who inspired him to write his memoir. “They burned your book you know.” she tells him. There is a pregnant pause and then she adds “Lucky for you, you made a copy and buried it!”. They chuckle at having outwitted Fate and family. I will get a similar smile while holding a fuddy-duddy binder with its papers of my art.
At an early age I realized people were laughing at me, so I decided what the heck I might as well try to be funny. In Jungian psychology this is “The Persona”, the mask or ‘front’ we put up when we interact with others. The Persona is neither good or bad, in fact it is both. We have many of them. At work I am in the Persona of Psychiatrist. On-line I am in the Persona of ersatz writer.
Sometimes I feel like a chimera viz. there is no Urs Truly but an amalgam of characters from my life I have cut and pasted into a clown collage that make up who I am. What is Ego vs. Persona and what is ‘me’ vs. channeling somebody else gets confusing. In a lesson in self-analysis (and to amuse Spo-fans) I thought I would drag on stage some of the clowns from the drama personae that I have incorporated into my psyche. Here are four of them:
My father. This persona often comes out when I interact with others in restaurants and hardware stores. His mannerisms, statements, and jocular banter are precisely duplicated. It is rather shocking how accurate it is. The primal scream of children everywhere is the dread of becoming their parents. Someone has remarked he doesn’t have to imagine what I will be like as an old man; he knows my father.
Dale is a friend who works as a therapist. I have never seen him angry; Dale is always patient. He has a whimsical friendly interaction and he frequently using puns. Whenever I need to keep calm with a patient I imagine what would Dale do? When I encounter a person in public from whom I want to gain something, I channel his friendly demeanor. Dale-energy works well at getting tables and processing over-the-phone problems. I leave out the puns.
Tom of Chicago The late Tom of Chicago had a wit. He would make me laugh and he found humor in anything. Imagine the love-child of Charles Nelson Reilly and Oscar Wilde and you get Tom. Tom’s spirit comes out when I am in conversation and I suddenly connect the dots to make a clever or bawdy remark. These tend to come out in blurts – Tom likes to interpolate himself into things.
Noel Coward I do this one consciously. I’ve memorized many of his songs and plays. If I want a witty or sophisticated persona he’s the one I like to channel. Unlike the others, people know Noel Coward, especially the gay ones. At times I get called out on these quips. A busted Persona is not a pretty sight.
It’s time for another blog-link pruning. This is always a sad endeavor, deleting links to blogs whose writers have gone away. I have a six month rule viz. if they have not written in six months I consider the blog closed.(1) As usual, I have sad feelings with a touch of rancor whenever a blogger buddy stops writing and gives no explanations or farewell. If a flesh-and-blood friend did this to me I would ask why. Perhaps it is better to bereave a bit and move on. After all, there are many splendid blogs who persevere. (2) Where a door closes a window opens; I am scouting out a few ‘new ones’ promise to appease my edacious appetite for thumping good reads.
Yesterday Spo-reflections received its 50,000 comment since it was moved to WordPress. What’s even more amazing is I can count on two hands the number of nasty comments it has received. Apparently my ‘G” rating or the avoidance of controversy keeps the trolls away. (3)
The Personal Trainer sent me a new diet guideline which consists of eating certain amounts of protein/CHO/fats per day, the amounts vary depending on the day’s exercise. If I think of the weights and measurments of my meals as a science project or as research for a publication in JAMA I may find it fun rather than tedious. Goal: lose belly fat and gain massive muscle mass in time to show up next month in Palm Spring and dazzle all at Inndulge into apoplexy. (4)
Speaking of things sent to me, Warrior Queen (the dear!) sent me a bread machine cookbook. It was a total surprise and much appreciated. A week ago I would have had to wait until February to try something, but with the new diet I can eat carbs again, how lovely. Time to haul out the machine and make something delicious. Thank you AM !
(1) Twelve months for thems I really don’t want to admit are gone.
(2) All blogs in my links are splendid and then some.
(3) Either that or I bore them silly.
(4) Actually my goal is to not look like a beach ball on stilts.
It’s been continually raining since Sunday here in The Valley of the Sun. This is the equivalent to a half inch of snow falling below the Mason-Dixon line viz. chaos on the roads with people driving like pithed frogs. Patients have been coming in today grumbling about the inclement weather and its effect on their moods “This is why I moved away from (fill in the blank)!”. I’ve had one patient interpret the (relative) deluge as sign of heaven’s displeasure, going almost as far as to blame Obama. I immediately upped her medication’s dose and she is now more sensible.
Urs Truly is lovin’ it viz. the gray skies and all. At night I hear the sonorous solemnity of rain on the roof and I go right to sleep. I think the rains will continue until the weekend. Perhaps by then even I will be tired of its novelty. Harper is missing her morning walks. She is quite the princess pooch (related to The Wicked Witch of the West) for she loathes being wet. We’ve had to force her outside as she won’t go out on her own.
If the rains continue I plan to have an exciting cozy stay-at-home weekend doing literal rainy day projects. I should make some soup; there is nothing so scrumptious as a pot of simmering soup on a cold damp day. Rumor has it there is snow to the north. Will I be so zany as to drive up to see it? Perhaps the ice scraper sitting in the garage for ten years may get some use after all.
Hang in there.
I have not been abducted by aliens or spirited away by the headless horseman or in a Hallowe’en hebetude.
I am up to my pointed ears in work. I promise to write a proper entry this evening. Hang in there.
Meanwhile, would anyone like a Tarot card reading this All Hallows Eve? I will be getting out my wicked pack of cards this Saturday night to see what the new year portends. If you would like a reading, please say so in the comments.
5 cents for the easy ones
10 cents for the hard ones
15 cents for the pretty ones
25 cents for stalkers, mingers, clever-dicks, and ecthotherms.
The Board of Directors Here at Spo-Reflections loathes my ‘word’ entries; I can’t quite ascertain their reason. I surmise they don’t understand the words to determine whether or not they are censorable. I have a terrible intuition TBDHSR are not interested in expanding their lexicon, which is limited to a handful of one syllable words and lots of body language. Nevertheless I am willing to endure the waxing wroth of warrior editors for obscure words are jolly good fun.
Try using these lovelies in an email today.
quidnunc – a gossip or busybody.
“Oh that Doug, he’s quite the quidnunc, his nose is in everyone’s business – and then some”
gasconade – a boasting pompous style of speech or writing.
“Mr. Trump’s latest gasconade made Doug sick”
longanimity – a disposition to bear injuries patiently.
“Doug lamented how long to he must bear this longanimity called the pre-election.”
abulia – an abnormal lack of ability to act or make decisions.
“The patient Doug reports having apathy, melancholia, and abulia. It’s Obama’s fault.”
crepuscular – of, relating to, or resembling twilight.
“After dinner Doug went out for crepuscular machinations in the dunes, hoping to remedy his abuilia.”
bloviate – (v) to speak pompously
Mr. Trump bloviated on Fox News that Doug’s crepuscular actions is the main issue Americans are facing today.”
uhtceare – the angst experienced early in the morning when you wake with worrying.
“Doug woke at 4AM with uhtceare, wondering what Mr. Trump would bloviate about him today”
revenant – a person who returns; a person who returns as a spirit after death (a ghost)
“Doug the quidnunc learned last night in his crepuscular encounter that Mr. Trump is considering having the revenant Sarah Palin be his running mate.