Tid Bits and Random Thoughts

Allow me to empty my mind of some thoughts I have been carrying around.



Mum's the Word: Barbara and I went to Home Depot and bought some chrysanthemums, the $6.00 size. I love the rich colors. A wheel barrow holds four pots and is parked in our front yard for all to enjoy. What an autumn color burst it is. Replacing the impatiens with the chrysanthemums or any other switch usually has me feeling like a traitor or I am being unfaithful. Three pots of worn out impatiens have been relegated to the side of my shed. Seems like an injustice. All they did was bloom all summer and look beautiful. Even in the plant world it is "what have you done for me lately."

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Puppy: My twelve and a half year old dog Hobo takes arthritis medicine. He has difficulty standing up and laying down. It is so hard to watch him decline. He ran out of the medicine so we stopped by the vet on the way home from work. Inside the vets office I struck up a conversation with a lady who was waiting for her dog. The conversation could have been about our children. We discussed their ailments. She was also there to look at a puppy. Our vet, as are most vets, also broker in abandoned dogs. Our dog was abandoned. The vet got him healthy and we gave him a home. Anyway, this particular puppy had been found in a dumpster. Some compassionate responsible person must have felt a dumpster was a good way to get rid of a puppy. He was rescued nonetheless and brought to Dr. Maher. When the nurse (I guess she was a nurse she was wearing scrubs) brought the puppy out to the lobby I got to take a turn holding him. Then I had to go get Barbara out of the car to come see the pup. She took a turn holding him. He was black and brown with floppy ears and a thin tail that wagged continuously. He was very snuggly and seemed to love the attention. I thought about how holding a puppy brought out such positive emotions in everyone there. Barb and I were coming home from work, quiet, tired, barely talking. One second with the cute puppy and we were laughing and smiling. Moral of the story, if you are not the kind of person who feels it OK to throw a puppy in a dumpster then go hold one any time you want a lift. Oh, Hobo smelled the puppy when I came home and gave me the cold shoulder like I had been cheating on him or something. He does not have to worry though - he is the top dog for life - his life.

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Bed Side Manner: I remembered a funny story involving one of our former patients and the medical doctor at our facility. Doctor Lee as, I will call him, while accomplished in medicine lacks bedside manner. His personality flat, no small talk, no smiling or anything resembling kind human interaction. If he is irritated he is even less congenial - if that is possible. Dr. Lee comes to the hospital once or twice a day to oversee the medical conditions of our psychiatric patients and to do routine history and physicals, H&P's. One afternoon, Dr. Lee was going about his business and was being interrupted by a very intrusive bipolar patient I will call Martha. Martha had no concept of interrupting or intruding. Dr. Lee (who is Filipino) is frequently errently referred to as "that Chinese doctor." "That Oriental doctor." Martha kept hounding him. Finally getting enough of her pestering, he said "go away you are bothering me." Martha looking highly insulted fired back, "you don't have to talk to me that way - after all - I support your country - I eat Chinese food." The fact Martha was making what she thought was a valid point was even funnier than the look on Dr. Lee's face. The nurses in earshot did a good job concealing their urge to burst out laughing. Dr. Lee headed for the door in his customary method of not saying good bye.

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Bad Day: I get up in the morning at 5:00 AM. My running partner Neil comes to my house at 6:00 AM. That gives me an hour to wake up, post my blog entry, stretch, and most importantly, get the coffee ready for Barbara to push the button when she heads back to our room from the shower. If I do not have the coffee ready there will be trouble. The kind of trouble I would just as soon not deal with so I make the coffee every day. On Monday though, I woke up with a start. You know the feeling in your stomach when you realize you just over slept? I jumped out of bed at 6:00 AM. Neil had come and gone so I was going to have to run alone. No big deal, but I hate to make him come to my house to run and I am sleeping. Next task, make the coffee. I began the usual routine. I rinsed out all of the coffee maker components. The carafe was sitting on the counter and I had the disposal running to deal with the coffee grounds I had just poured in the sink. When I turned off the disposal, my hand knocked the pot on the floor shattering the morning silence and itself into a zillion little pieces. At this juncture I had the thought, "this may be a bad day." At least it was certainly shaping up to be one. I broke the news to Barbara and she took it pretty well. Given the degree to which we like coffee, I had envisioned a scene reminiscent of Ray Milland in The Lost Weekend, tearing up the house looking for a bottle. Luckily we still had our old coffee pot. Bad day averted. I just got back from Bed Bath & Beyond with the replacement carafe - $25. I guess it is cheaper than crack.



Until the next time

John Strain

Covington, Louisiana

Today I want to showcase my town. I grew up in the Kansas City area, but since 1979 I have lived in Louisiana. Covington has been my home since 1991. My son grew up here and I have some very good friends here. Click some of these links and see why I love my town.



Covington was founded in the early 1800's. Goods were shipped up and down the Tchefuncta River to Lake Pontchartrain and finally to New Orleans. You can read more about Covington's history here.



Covington is best known today for its robust art community. Check out this gallery for a sampling. Make sure you click the "artists" link and then select John Akers. Heck check them all out. Click the "Covington links" to see even more galleries and artists.



Lee Harvey Oswald attended Covington Elementary School in 1946. Today the school is named CJ Schoen Middle School pictured here. Oswald lived in a house nearby that is now a restaurant.



Another interesting fact about Covington Elementary school (besides my son attending there) is Louisiana Governor Earl K. Long's sanity hearing was held there. He was eventually committed to Southeast Louisiana Hospital in Mandeville, LA.



The Tammany Trace is a rails to trails project that links several towns together. A great place to run or cycle.



Lake Pontchartrain is an estuary. It is 25 miles across from the North Shore to Jefferson Parish on the South Shore. I once ran a marathon across the Lake Pontchartrain Causeway - the world's longest bridge.



Covington is home to the third oldest Carmelite Monastery in the United States. Browse the pics and see how "hip" these sisters can be.



The writer Walker Percy lived in Covington. His daughter ran a book store named the Kumquat. Percy had an office upstairs where he wrote his books.



Here are a few more attractions in the Covington area.



All of this sightseeing may have made you thirsty. If so, stop by my favorite bar The Columbia Street Tap Room for a tall, frosty brew.



I love it here. I have adapted well and my friends have named me an honorary Southerner. I wear the monicker proudly.



Until the next time

John Strain

Memories

Memories bring a smile to our face, they haunt us, they muster all kinds of feelings from guilt to pride. What you do now becomes a memory. Life is often compared to a journey. The memories are what is in our rear view mirror. What does that little disclaimer on the mirror say? "What you see in this mirror may not be completely accurate," (my loose paraphrase). This fact is never more evident then when I discuss the "good old days" with my family. We do not remember things the same way. Over the years who screwed up and who was the hero has several versions. I have thought to myself on more than one occasion, "am I nuts? I thought it happened this way." Let's face it, our minds tend to rewrite history to protect us from the truth. If you want to get technical you could call it denial or something, but I think most of us do this without trying.



One man went to his doctor and said, "Doc, you have to help me with this memory problem." "How long have you had this problem?" the doctor responded. The man replied, "what problem?" Age has a way of stealing our memory. This can be very sad. We often have geriatric patients at my hospital. Sometimes, their memory is completely gone. They do not recognize their own spouse or children. Without a memory we would not know who we are or were. The things we accomplished, the places we have been would be locked in our minds out of reach.



Former President Reagan is like this now. Alzheimer's disease has taken his memory. He is alive, but he does not know who he is or who his family is. There is a merciful side to the slow seepage of memories. The mistakes we make or wrongs we did slip away as do the good memories. The pain we feel when we suffer loss is forgotten and what lingers is something we can tolerate.



I wrote a poem about being remembered in an earlier post entitled Remembrance. I want to be remembered. One of the reasons I write this blog is to record my thoughts so they will not be lost. Someday my son may want to know what I thought about things. I may not be around, but my words will remain.



A glance around the room where I now sit triggers many memories. From books on the bookshelf I may remember a class or a professor. An old pocket watch with a Catterpillar fob brings to my consciousness my grandfather and uncle. An old timing gear from a Plymouth sits next to the watch and brings back memories of auto mechanics classes in high school. I usually collect a coffee mug or a shot glass from places I go. All of them are memory cues of good times.



I sit in a wooden rocking chair when I watch television. It is the same rocker I sat in to hold my son when he was a baby to feed him his bottle. I was surprised by my feelings when my father sold the house I grew up in. I had been away from home several years, but when it was sold I was sad. Maybe because I was more aware of the passing of time. I had memories locked in that house and I could no longer access them.



So what can one make of this rambling post about memories? First of all, what we do now will be a memory tomorrow and beyond. Memories fade and that fact is a two sided coin. While I cannot bask in the exact feelings of "make out" sessions I enjoyed in the past, I also do not feel the guilt and shame of past mistakes. The memories I do want to remember I write down or commemorate them with a coffee mug.



My wish for you is your good memories will stay fresh in your mind for you to savor and re-experience, while the bad memories will be forgotten only leaving behind the lessons they taught you.



Until the next time

John Strain

The Symphony of Life

Saturday evening the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra was in our town. When is the last time you attended the symphony? If it has been some time I would encourage you to go at your earliest opportunity. The whole event made me feel better about myself and even our world. If others there had similar thoughts and feelings I imagine the world contains a little bit more joy, hope, and optimism. Watching the news is an exercise in anger, shock, and pessimism. Who was killed? Who raped whom? What crazy thing did someone do? Who is spewing hate on whom? These things very subtlely pull us down. We begin to think the world is mad, crazy, out of control. Saturday night at the concert in Covington, Louisiana I was around several hundred people who were polite, well behaved, and positive. Events like attending a symphony provide us balance for some of the negatives which daily bombard us.



One of my first observations was the general demeanor of people inside the music hall. Barbara and I were greeted at the door with a smile and kind words. Concert goers were well dressed, soft spoken, respectful, and well mannered. Compare this description to the last ball game or concert you attended. Even at little league games parents caught up in the competition of the moment will hurl insults at kids on opposing teams. The manners and decorum of this event was a breath of fresh air like the cool north autumn breeze outside the venue.



I also enjoyed the tradition of the event. When it is time to find your seat and settle in the lights are flashed. Then the tension and expectation builds as the lights dim, the conductor steps to the platform, as he raises the baton there are several seconds of silence. No coughing, talking, cell phone ringing - somehow 400 people are silent. The kind of silence only respect can muster. Then with a motion of the baton the silence is pierced by 65 musicians hitting the first note at once. The sweet strains of music, from pianissimo (soft) to fortissimo (loud) soothed and healed souls. When a person stops and settles down and places their awareness in the moment this kind of healing is possible. With each crescendo I felt more relaxed and at peace.



I marveled at the oneness at which the musicians performed. All accomplished musicians assembled in one place, yet none stood out. They gave themselves to the greater possibility of the group instead of insisting on individual promotion. Would that our politicians were this way. Imagine what a symphony they could perform if they would pool their talents and direct them toward a group effort instead of attacking and blaming each other.



When I arrived at the music hall the musicians were warming up. You know what that sounds like. 65 musicians and instruments doing their own thing. it is a jumbled collision of sound. Then when they turned to the same piece of music and took their cues from the conductor the result was harmony. This can happen in our world. It is possible. It is not so important who is our leader but will each of us follow. Will we contribute to the group, sacrifice individual recognition for the possibility of something beyond what any one person could achieve?



I realized each person is like a musician in an orchestra. Our instrument is what we do. If the music produced is pleasing it is in part because we do our job well. If the music produced is harmonious it is in part because we work together. I cannot make you practice your instrument you have to do that. I am responsible for doing my job in the world. But "if" I become more serious about what I do and I strive for harmony above personal recognition the music becomes a little bit sweeter. If you do the same then the music is sweeter still. A ground swell begins with one or two willing and dedicated individuals. Believe in something better, expect more from life and from yourself. We will all benefit and be rewarded with beautiful music as performed with the instruments of our souls.



Until the next time

John Strain

Television

TV, the idiot box, the boob tube, tool of the devil, aid in education, ultimate baby sitter, insert your term here. I have watched a lot of TV. Some of the best and worst moments in my life involve TV. In 1985 the Kansas City Royals won the World Series (a best moment). September 11, 2001 I stayed glued to a television watching in horror the events of that day and the days to follow (some worst moments). When a hurricane is bearing down on Louisiana, television is vital. I have used TV to laugh, cry, be informed, learn, gawk, and waste time. I have discussed "what was on TV last night" many times with coworkers. I have debated, promoted, and condemned television programs.



Here are some TV milestones and "firsts" which come to mind. Color. If you are old enough to remember the advent of color television I bet you are replaying the NBC peacock promo in your head right now. Only rich people and lucky people had color television. If I, as a kid, had to go with my mother to some "old person's" house the boring trip was suddenly transformed into a blessing if a color television was present. The words, "you can sit in here and watch TV Johnny while we visit in the other room," were like verbal ambrosia.



The evolution of set design has been fascinating. From the plain early days, to the bright, "busy" sets of the 70's (Laugh In), to today's spaceship control room sets (ESPN).



Television programs reflected societal views and in turn shaped views. Archie Bunker in "All In the Family" helped us deal with racial issues realistically and with humor. Black versions were "Sanford and Son" and "The Jeffersons." Today programs are fostering discussion about the gay lifestyle. "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy," and others. The best shows do not preach, but accurately present issues. Much of the time opinions are short sighted because they lack all of the variables. Once someone is aware of most or all of the facts and variables, they form a more rounded and fair opinion. Some resist though and hold to the statement, "don't confuse me with the facts, my mind is made up."



"Laugh In" was one of the shows that pushed ideas and notions about sex and decency. "Saturday Night Live" pushed those ideas and notions a bit further.



I was addicted to shows like Adam 12, Dragnet, St. Elsewhere, Medical Center, and ER. Some sitcoms and series hold a higher place in my rankings - MASH, Seinfeld, and Cheers. Where were you when they aired the last episode?



I hated to see Johnny Carson's last show. He was a father figure. The Tonight Show music is as comforting as a mother's heartbeat or a lullaby.



It is amusing to hear critics of television - Not a particular show, but "T"elevision. I once watched a TV preacher condemn television. According to him, people who watch television are heathen sinners. Guilty your honor. If I had taken his advice I would not have seen his sermon. Then there are the "highly informed, educated" parents who do not have television at all. They figure it will poison their children's little minds. All that does is make their kids work a little harder to watch TV. When they go to a friend's house they glue themselves to a set until they "catch up." If you want to raise a strange child keep them away from TV. Without an understanding of TV and current programs they are deprived of what 99.99% of their peers have in common. To me television is a tool an appliance. All or nothing answers are usually wrong. Parents need to monitor their child's television viewing, but the "goods" out weigh the "bads" by far.



These last few observations have been floating around in my head for a while. The first one has to do with Emril Lagasse on the Food Network. Barbara watches this all the time. I guess you need to watch a show from the beginning, but I am a bit confused on Emril's audience behavior. More than once I have entered a room while Barbara is watching Emril Live. I hear something like this, (Emril) " . . . then you kick it up a notch . . . put in some cayenne pepper . . ." (audience) "Oooooh . . .ahhhhh . . . shouts of encouragement." Emril now caught up in the moment says, "lets give it some more." This goes on until the audience is whipped into a frenzy like the Zulus before a battle. How do you applaud cayenne pepper? I have observed the same behavior for garlic and beer. I guess they give out surveys and find people who have never seen anything interesting. Then garlic, beer, and cayenne pepper will surely astound them. Just kidding, I have probably applauded garlic a few times myself and I have been in the mosh pit cheering beer.



Television became more and more realistic. Just think of how someone died in an old western compared to how someone was splattered in Miami Vice. In the early days a love scene requirement was one individual had to have one foot on the floor. Now, well I don't have to describe what happens. Family depiction morphed from Ozzie and Harriet to The Brady Bunch to The Osbornes. Attempts to be realistic often missed - Starsky and Hutch, Cannon, Charlie's Angels. Then "Reality Television" hit the scene. Survivor took the country by storm, but this is after shows like COPS had been well established. Reality television is no longer realistic. It is only natural to attempt to improve something, but what they are pedaling as realistic is seeming more and more staged. The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, For Love and Money, Big Brother - "Oh brother."



Television costs money now. Do you know anyone with just an antenna? As a kid growing up in Kansas City we got 3 channels - ABC, NBC, and CBS. If the weather was right, I could twist the knob and see a snowy station from St. Joseph, Missouri or Topeka, Kansas. Technical marvels in their own right. Then the cable came in to existence in the early 70's. Do you remember the promise of the cable people? "Someone will be out to install the cable between 8:00 AM and the Second Coming of Christ."



I have lived most of my life away from where I grew up. The problem posed was my favorite sports teams were never on TV. Today though I have it all with Direct TV. I never miss a Kansas City Chiefs football game, Kansas City Royals baseball game, or Kansas Jayhawks basketball game anymore, and I appreciate it.



So here's to television - you are not perfect, but neither am I.



Until the next time

John Strain