Hobo

We bought our first house in 1991. John was 6 and we were moving from New Orleans to the North Shore. One of the benefits of home ownership to me was being able to have a dog. I am a dog person. I had a few good dogs growing up. There was Okie a beagle cocker mix my mother brought home from selling Avon one day. Cindy was a toy collie and was killed chasing a squirrel into the path of an oncoming car. Jake was a terrier poodle mix and really smart. He loved to play.



We first tried to get a dog at the humane society. I wanted to save one of the pooches from death row. Barb, John, and I looked over their puppies and settled on a little blonde cocker spaniel. We even named him - Joe, Joe the cocker spaniel. John was really excited but we could not take Joe home with us. He had to stay to be fixed. It was supposed to take a week. Several days later I get a phone call from the Humane Society. Joe had died along with the other three puppies in his cage. There had been a parvo outbreak.



I couldn't believe it. What a drag, now I had to tell John his new puppy he was so excited about had died. That evening he came with Barbara to pick me up at work. I took him in my office and told him I had some sad news then explained about Joe. He cried and cried. I felt so bad for him, but one of the things a parent cannot fix is a broken heart.



Not long after that we saw a sign at a vet's office - "Free black puppy to good home." We pulled in and met the little black puppy already named Hobo. He was named Hobo because someone abandoned him at the vet's office. He had been neglected and required some care to get him back on his paws. I remember trying to pet Hobo. He was part alligator so hyper, but very cute. A lab mix, black with four white paws and a little white patch on his chest. We decided to adopt Hobes as we often call him. I had to go home and prepare the house for a puppy. The next day we brought him to his new home.



We have loved Hobo for twelve years now. He is getting old and getting up and down is hard for him. I hate to think about him not being around. As I write this I need only look out the corner of my right eye to see him laying by my chair. So many good memories. Hobo's first day at our house was traumatic for John. He was afraid of the snapping gator dog at first and sought refuge on a chair. He and Hobo soon became pals and Hobo slept with John for years until he could no longer jump up on the bed, so he sleeps on his dog pillow in our room.



For the last twelve years Hobo has been with me continuously. He is the only one that saw the board slide from the rafters of our shed and hit me on the bridge of my nose. He is the only one that heard the expletive laden tirade that followed. Hobo has walked with me in the early morning and we have witnessed many sunrises together. He knows the beauty of the sun rays shining through the trees and the morning haze. I know that when we walk by the blue house I have to tighten up on the leash, because if he sees the gray cat he will lunge for it - always missing, yet always trying. He has witnessed our son's metamorphosis from child to man. He is part of our family.



A few years back I wrote a poem about Hobo - here it is:

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My Dog



My dog was free, but if you offered me

I wouldn't take the world for him

Because no matter who or what I am

He will always be my friend



Sure there were times, when he was a pup

I had a doubt or two

For when we lost track of his whereabouts

He was probably eating a shoe



And it seems when the rain is its hardest

And the night is dark and cold

He stands at the door with that look that says

My bladder I can no longer hold



But the comfort I get from just seeing

His black furry form on the floor

And coming home finding him waiting

And wagging his tail by the door



And the pleasure I get from just watching

Him running and jumping at play

Grows my love and my laughter

More and more every day



So my dog was free but he has given me

What I leave to seek all day

Love and joy and loyalty

Beyond what I could pay

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Here's to man's best friend - I think I will pet him right now.

Until the next time

John Strain

Mars

If you missed seeing Mars the other evening check out this Hubble Site the pictures are amazing.

What's On My Mind Today

PROGRESS: The North Shore of Lake Pontchartrain used to be rural. It was a getaway for the residents of New Orleans and a paradise of trees such as live oak, pecan, Cyprus, and tall pines. Fishing camps were nestled throughout the miles of river and lake shorelines. Slowly the cities of Madisonville, Mandeville, and Covington grew. In the 1990's the population rapidly increased. With the increased population came commercial development and housing starts. The North Shore became even more attractive to residents of New Orleans and they came by the droves escaping the congestion and crime of city life to a rural / suburban serenity. The trees were sacrificed for large homes and whole blocks of land were clear cut to make way for unimaginative subdivisions. Two years ago the Sunday newspaper had two aerial photos. One was taken in the 1970's. There were so many trees the photo was nearly all green. In contrast the recent photo had large holes in the green and much of the rest was extremely thinned. It was disheartening to see how many trees had been cut down.



I live near several vacant lots and pass by quite a bit of undeveloped land on my way to work. That will soon change. One large area down the street from me had huge vehicles on it yesterday to clear the trees. A huge mechanical arm grabs the tree and jerks it out of the ground. It is placed on a truck and hauled away. Right next to the hospital where I work a 300 home development is underway. It is going in an area that is now thick woods. It is sad to see progress at this cost.



I am reminded of Joni Mitchell's song "you pave paradise and put up a parking lot." I am not pointing any fingers. If I did I would have to point at myself. I shop at the Super Wal-Mart and the Home Depot. I eat at the restaurants and use the roads. They make life easier, but they come at a high price.



We cannot have good roads, good shopping, convenience, electricity, cell phones, fast access computers, and television and live in a pristine forest. Progress is not free - it comes at the cost of natural beauty.

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WASTED ENERGY: Have you ever considered how much work and effort people put into negativity? We are surrounded by it.



Example 1: Montgomery, Alabama is the epicenter for lost causes. That monument was a lightning rod for a challenge. Christianity can still be practiced in the United States. How does the removal of one chunk of rock in Alabama jeopardize Christendom? I believe most of the protesters are sincere and probably good folks. But why are they mobilizing over a "symbol" of their religion while they neglect its "substance"? Regardless of your faith or even if you are an atheist consider this. The people protesting to keep the Ten Commandments Monument in the judicial building believe in an omnipotent God, yet they are acting as though their faith were in jeopardy because of one "symbol". Their faith is supposed to be evidenced through their actions of love not their protests against the government. The government cannot wipe out anyone's faith. Did communism destroy faith when it was illegal? Relax folks, God can take care of things and He would probably rather you show love to your neighbor quietly and without fanfare than to jockey for position on the evening news. He has things under control. True religion is evidenced by the life one lives not the protests they attend. Choose substance over form.



Example 2: Democrats and Republicans expend a great deal of energy fighting each other. Both parties are wrong, both parties engage in dirty tricks, both parties would rather tear down an opponent than they would offer a solution to a problem. The Palestinians and Israelis stand a better chance of patching things up.



What I see on the news is useless. One party chides the other party. They lie through statistics and rewrite history for their current benefit. The gutless anchors either do not challenge obvious untruths or they are misinformed themselves. They believe that the "end" justifies the "means" but it does not.



The answers to complicated questions are not obvious or easy. How do you solve economic problems, world affairs, education, crime? There is not one thing that can be done. Whoever is in office works like hell to make a difference. The minority party prays for failure so they can seize power. Who's fault is it? Blame someone? But blame does not solve problems.



Think of the money spent, the articles written, the meetings, phone calls, faxes, emails that are aimed at tearing down fellow Americans. Is someone really terrible because they are a Democrat, Republican, liberal, conservative, gay, feminist, environmentalist, Christian, Muslim, Northerner, Southerner, red neck, African American, pro life, pro choice? I would hate to be judged by a series of "yes" or "no" questions, but that is what we do to others.



In counseling with couples who are in conflict I try to teach this rule right off: Seek first to understand then to be understood. Take your time, do not react to the labels. Discuss issues, try to understand what the person with a differing view believes and why. Explain your view point. Open your mind. Then believe what you want. I believe the phrase "A house divided cannot stand" applies here. I will try to do my part - how about you?

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The Human Spirit: As the second anniversary of 9/11 approaches I am reminded of how I felt and how our countrymen responded to such a violent action. I love the way our citizens responded. We came together. All barriers vanished for a time. Too bad it takes a 9/11 to bring out our best.

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Have a great Labor Day weekend

Until the next time

John Strain

Miss Covington

I may get in trouble with my wife Barbara for telling this story. It is an account of one of those fights over something stupid that gets out of hand. I hope the statute of limitations protects me from further wrath and or retribution. It was more than ten years ago. My hope is that this story may help some other husband or boyfriend avoid this relationship land mine, even if it is too late for me.

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It was one of those Norman Rockwell evenings. I was watching TV, Barbara was reading the newspaper, Hobo was stretched out on the floor, and John was playing quietly in the other room. Barbara began to read a newspaper ad to me, "Young ladies between the ages of 17 and 24 . . . enter the Miss Covington Pageant . . . blah, blah, blah." She chuckled and added, "Maybe I should enter." I laughed too, "You could never be Miss Covington," I said joining in with her chuckling. "Why not?" she said not chuckling any more. It is funny how two words can say much more than their small number would suggest. All of a sudden I was on the witness stand and Perry Mason was cross examining me. I was no match and each word I spoke from the point of "why not?" on only dug my hole deeper. "Because,"I said, you are older than 24." I took her silence at that point as an opportunity to further explain the logic of why she could not be Miss Covington. "Also, you are married - it did not say Mrs. Covington.



I knew then I was in trouble. Sensing she was mad I felt it important to tell her how she should not be angry over such a stupid thing as this. "I am just watching TV here . . . you were laughing . . .I am not saying you are not pretty. . . this whole thing is stupid. . . deeper, deeper, deeper goes the hole.



The damage was done and I was mad she was mad. Silence and tension filled air changed our Norman Rockwell scene to something more resembling Roseanne or The Osbornes.



I do not recall the details of going to bed, but it seems like the next day things were on the mend. I apologized to her. I still thought the whole thing was dumb. Of course, using logic I had analyzed the situation. My flip comment about the beauty contest was an insult to her. I on the other hand was half listening to her since I was watching TV and my comment was more unfiltered than it should have been. I felt she over reacted, but if I was out of trouble, leave well enough alone I reasoned.



Guys like to insult each other. An insult is really a compliment. Here is an example. I have three good friends. One evening we all converged at our office. We are all in the psychology field. Some remodeling was going on. Claude was painting the floor and Marty, Brian, and I were moving things around. Marty must have mentioned 3 or 4 times that he would like a scrap of sheet rock to patch a hole he had at his house. "Claude, don't throw that sheet rock away, I can use that at my house." After Marty mentiioned it the third or fourth time I pulled a five-dollar bill out of my bill fold and said, "Here's five-dollars, go buy yourself some f*2%ing sheet rock and shut the f&%K up about it." It was a classic male bonding moment. We all laughed and replayed the lines over and over again like actors rehearsing for a play. We still laugh about it today. BUT - that stuff does not work with most women and I made the mistake of using it on Barbara.



We both worked at the same hospital then. That day I was eating lunch in the cafeteria and the topic of "stupid fights in marriages" came up. So I shared our recent squabble with my colleagues. I told the story objectively and accepted responsibility for what I did wrong. I thought the whole thing was funny. It was classic man vs. woman stuff. After all, the argument was behind us. I had apologized. Everything was OK. The audience laughed and seemed to agree with me on the funny part. The women all sided with Barbara and offered what they would have done. "I would have killed you for saying that. . ." was the general female response.



I had not counted on the actions of Robert one of the nurses. Apparently, Barbara was walking down the hall sometime after lunch and Robert was coming up behind her. He yelled out loudly, "Hey Miss Covington!" It is funny how three little words I did not even utter caused me so much trouble. She shrugged off his attempt at humor, but became livid and furious with me. Meanwhile I am sitting in my office working - completely unaware I was in deep doo doo again. Suddenly my door flew open Barbara standing in the doorway. She said with an unmistakable you're in trouble tone of voice, "I just want you to know I am VERY ANGRY WITH YOU." The door closed quickly and the whole event was like some angry coo coo clock. I sat there trying to figure out what had just happened.



Later I was walking to the unit and I passed Robert in the hall. "I called Barbara Miss Covington," he said proudly. "She really thought it was funny." Playing along I answered him, "yeah, it's a riot." Damn, I thought, here we go again. I popped in at her office, but the conversation did not go well. It was late afternoon and we would soon be going home. Remember I cannot drive because of my lousy eyes. On one of my passes through the lobby around 5:30 PM I noticed a car resembling ours driving out of the parking lot at a high rate of speed. Surely she wouldn't leave me at work I reasoned.



I checked her office and it was dark and there was an empty parking space where I remembered getting out of the car earlier that day. She did leave me. What was my next play? Call her up and ask / beg her to pick me up. My testicles ruled that out fast. Wait around, maybe she would feel guilty and reconsider. Maybe she just had to run an errand first - like stock up on ammo. Screw waiting, I decided to walk home. She would feel guilty when I came in the door all sweaty. If she were to call and find out I was not there she might get worried and come looking for me. She would apologize and ask me to forgive her for her over reaction. It could happen.



I set out walking the 2.5 miles. Not a great distance for a runner, but in street shoes farther than I want to walk. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of calling her. I walked and played scenarios in my head about my arrival at home. What should I say, what would she say. About half way home a car pulled off the road ahead of me - I was getting picked up. It was Marty a guy I barely knew then but now is my best friend. Situations like these cause a strong bond in males. "What are you walking for?" Marty inquired. "Oh, it was such a nice evening I thought I would get some exercise," I said. We made small talk the rest of the way home and I got out at my driveway.



Once inside, I acted as though nothing happened. She was fixing supper and I went about my business. There was no knock down drag out fight or even yelling. Mainly silence. Then at some point that evening we made eye contact and started laughing. The whole thing was pretty stupid. She explained (kind characterization) why she was angry about me telling the story at lunch. It embarrassed her among other things. The problem boiled down to both of us having different preferences about disclosing personal information. And she was right and I was wrong.



I am sure the women readers have noticed all of my mistakes in this situation, but for those men who may still be hanging on, here is some advice:

• If your wife / girlfriend ever mentions anything about her looks, weight, clothes, anything regarding appearance, muster all of your sincerity and compliment her. Do it before she brings it up.



• At the first sign of trouble do not attempt to explain to her what is really happening. Only speak to apologize then shut up - change the subject - get away from the topic in any way possible. Some men have faked heart attacks to get out of trouble in this way. An ER bill is cheap compared to the days of hell you are about to experience.



• Let the topic die. Do not tell your friends, co workers, priest, counselor - NO ONE. If it gets back to her that you discussed it with anyone else you will reap her wrath in biblical proportions.



• Reason and logic do not work as a matter of fact they make it worse. Try this: I am so sorry. I should know better. Will you forgive me. I was insensitive. I love you. You can always mutter under your breath what you really want to say when she is out of earshot.

I hope this helps someone.

Until the next time

John Strain

Odds and Ends

The best thinking today about mental illness and behavior places a lot of stock on the frontal lobes of the brain. Researches have discovered that structural changes take place in the brain as a result of abuse and other traumas. Let me say that again. I am not talking about just chemical differences I am talking about the structure. It changes your brain and it changes it for the worse.



Reason, logic, judgment, personality and socialization are higher order functions determined by the frontal lobes. In schizophrenia this area is different and the firing patterns of nerve cells are different than non-schizophrenic brains.



This was evident today as I went through my routine. I have four patients and they all hate me right now. One hates me because I won't let him get on a bus and go to Los Angeles so he can become a movie star. Another hates me because he thinks I won't let him go to college. One more hates me because I will not call Crystal Gayle to come pick him up and take him to Tennessee. The last one hates me because the other ones do and she does not want to feel left out.



There is no logic, there is no reason, there is no acknowledgment of practicality or contingency planning. Contingency planning would have one consider questions like, "What will I do if I get to Los Angeles and I do not become a movie star and have no money or a place to live?"



It gets very frustrating because I rarely get to complete a sentence much less a thought. I had to end a family session early today because of the language this individual was using with his mother. The families really take the heat. They are accused of spending the social security check on themselves when they do not, poisoning the patient for encouraging medication compliance, and not helping. Imagine working your ass off, foregoing your wants and needs and being told you are a selfish bastard. The patient often orders their family around to feed their insatiable appetite and with never an expression of gratitude. They fight those who would help them.



When these people are sick they want what they want yesterday. They lack patience, and though they act grandiose, are in fact helpless.



I do not go through a day without thanking God for a son not afflicted with schizophrenia. It destroys more than the life of the individual. It also plays havoc in the family and costs society billions of dollars annually.

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My job is about 2.5 miles from my front door. We go about 2 blocks then turn onto Tyler Street and that takes us all the way to the hospital. On Tyler Street are many doctor's offices. There are two dermatology clinics, several general practitioners, a hand clinic, oncology clinic, heart center, med-surg hospital, funeral home, two veterinarians, a nursing home, pediatric clinic, a dentist, and several other medical offices.



Here is my thought: If you can drive up or down this street and not have to stop in one of these places - you are doing just fine.

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I brought some flowers to a friend today. She was returning to work after a whirlwind trip back east to take her son to college. She cried all the way back and obviously misses him severely. Her reaction was worth 100 times the cost of the flowers. Try it yourself sometime. You won't regret it. Who ever said "It is more blessed to give than to receive" knew what they were talking about.

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Speaking of college, John's first day was Monday. He could not find his first class - bad omen. He went to the room on his schedule. He said it was a closet or something. A sign was posted directing him to another empty room. He never found it. Welcome to college bud. Next stop life.

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I am not running out of things to do. I have two video projects to work on for friends celebrating special events. Video work is time consuming and cuts into my writing. I usually get home from work and sit down at the computer until about 11:00 PM then go to bed. I am not complaining - I love it.

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Speaking of videos. I have talked to John and our adopted son Ben, who now lives with us, about the bathroom the three of us share. Barb uses a different one. They are basically slobs. I have let things slide because I figured John was going to be away at school so why make a federal case out of it. Since he is commuting to school though and will be around, I decided to address the problem. I have a few pet peeves. One is DON'T USE MY FREAKING TOWEL. I hate to go in to take a shower and my towel is wet - yuck! Number two is pick up your clothes. There is always about two or three pairs of boxers on the floor and maybe a pair of shoes or an old t-shirt. The next things I ask is straighten the towels, neatly. Spread the shower curtain so it can dry, and for crying out loud, just once change the toilet paper roll. Don't let me forget to mention - rinse out the sink instead of leaving toothpaste all over it to harden into a modern art sculpture. I have tried talking to them and they say they understand, but I have noticed no appreciable change. So I will employ some creativity instead of the traditional gripe, bitch, piss, and moan routine. I know, I know, its my house blah, blah, blah, but in the overall scheme of things, I am not going to make this a cause worth dying for. I will leave that to their future wives. Poor girls. What I am going to do is this: I will videotape the bathroom when it is a wreck. Then provide commentary on the tape to point out the problems, etc. Next, I will video the proper way to do it and show the finished product. Kids just need to see it on TV is my theory. I will blog on the results when they roll in.



Until the next time

John Strain