Sunday, June 03, 2007
When "Denial" is the only weapon
Over a lifetime, I have become somewhat a specialist in "Denial." When I worked in a health care setting years ago, I picked up a book on Death and Dying and reviewed the four stages of loss----denial, anger, bargaining, and finally acceptance. The problem was, of course, those of us in a health setting rarely saw anything but the first two stages. And I came to a simple amazement of the power of denial in grief, loss, and in a lot of areas of life.
Denial gives me the power to run or bike and pretend that I am 18. Too much awareness of the total risks of life would be too much. A little denial is good. Anything is still possible. Without a little blocking, enthusiasm might be somewhat difficult.
Two other great weapons are blame and resentment. Whenever there is change, count on those two emotions.
This coming week is the week of graduation. It is also a time of huge risk of death on the highway. I hope we as a community, beginning with parents and teens, can pledge not to drink and drive.
Now is the time for responsibiity, not blame. It is the time to see and not be blind to what is clearly before us.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 9:03 PM
1 comments:
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
"The Pea Green Carpeting"--a true story
There is a philosophy of buying that one must concentrate on like a Zen monk. One must strive in all things--to reverse the pattern of human emotions.
When fear is in the street----One must concentrate on greed.
When everyone is gasping with delight on how high the stock market has gone and how much they are worth---giggling like they have been sipping fine whiskey-----
Sell.
My brother-in-law---Mark Hector--gave the family a great example when he purchased his first home in Hopkins. It was just a simple rambler---but it had been neglected....big time. The front room was carpeted in a dark pea green that made even the most ardent buyer vomit on entrance to the home.
What turned overyone else off---got Mark excited. He could visualize the new gold carpeting and the fireplace roaring and his wife and he celebrating the remodeling.
He made the owner an offer---a ridiculously low offer. He pointed out all the things that needed to be corrected. The seller refused the first offer. That was good. Left him a little pride. Then Mark made him an offer, just a bit higher.
Bingo.
Even today, when my wife an I are out shopping or looking at homes and I see some pea green carpeting----she just smiles and says------"No way." She knows that given the killing Mark made on that home, I will always have a weakness for pea green carpeting.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:07 PM
When fear is in the street----One must concentrate on greed.
When everyone is gasping with delight on how high the stock market has gone and how much they are worth---giggling like they have been sipping fine whiskey-----
Sell.
My brother-in-law---Mark Hector--gave the family a great example when he purchased his first home in Hopkins. It was just a simple rambler---but it had been neglected....big time. The front room was carpeted in a dark pea green that made even the most ardent buyer vomit on entrance to the home.
What turned overyone else off---got Mark excited. He could visualize the new gold carpeting and the fireplace roaring and his wife and he celebrating the remodeling.
He made the owner an offer---a ridiculously low offer. He pointed out all the things that needed to be corrected. The seller refused the first offer. That was good. Left him a little pride. Then Mark made him an offer, just a bit higher.
Bingo.
Even today, when my wife an I are out shopping or looking at homes and I see some pea green carpeting----she just smiles and says------"No way." She knows that given the killing Mark made on that home, I will always have a weakness for pea green carpeting.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:07 PM
Saturday, June 3, 2006
"The Sermon"--- a true story
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
The Sermon
On of the traditions in our family back in the 50's was the tradition of the after church quizz. As a means of making sure my sister, Susie and I were paying attention at Church, we were asked questions about it on the way home in the car. Soon we made game of it. We were a bit competitive I guess. We tried to outdo each other as to the finer points of the sermon.
Then Fr. Jackson came to the parish. He fashioned himself an orator of sorts. He was very, very organized. Each sermon was organized in outline. You might wonder how I know. Well. He shared the outline with the parish so we could follow along with the supreme logic of the sermon.
I still remember--it's been 50 years or so---- to this day his sermon "On Love." Once the title was out of his lips, I winked to my sister that this is one we needed to pay attention to. As any inquisitive teen, I was alert for any new information. I was all ears.
Then Fr. Jackson began his sermon. His first section, or "A" was on the general properties of 'Love." Points, 1,2,3. Then "How" God loves us was section "B" and then, logically, "C" covered the "Why" God loves us. Needless to say, there was no new information. It seemed that God had a pretty tightly organized love process.
Anyway, I still remember the ride home from Church. It was pretty quiet. Very quiet. In fact---- too quiet. So...I thought I would open with the first question......."Well..Susie, what did you think of point B2?"
Then both Susie and I burst out in uncontrollable laughter.
Then Mom interjected, "Now kids, that's just enough,.....enough. "
That was the end of the analysis.
I guess that Fr. Jackson was the winner over all the years though. We did remember each and every one of the points. It's just that we never did find love to be as organized as life unfolded. Alleluia.
The Sermon
On of the traditions in our family back in the 50's was the tradition of the after church quizz. As a means of making sure my sister, Susie and I were paying attention at Church, we were asked questions about it on the way home in the car. Soon we made game of it. We were a bit competitive I guess. We tried to outdo each other as to the finer points of the sermon.
Then Fr. Jackson came to the parish. He fashioned himself an orator of sorts. He was very, very organized. Each sermon was organized in outline. You might wonder how I know. Well. He shared the outline with the parish so we could follow along with the supreme logic of the sermon.
I still remember--it's been 50 years or so---- to this day his sermon "On Love." Once the title was out of his lips, I winked to my sister that this is one we needed to pay attention to. As any inquisitive teen, I was alert for any new information. I was all ears.
Then Fr. Jackson began his sermon. His first section, or "A" was on the general properties of 'Love." Points, 1,2,3. Then "How" God loves us was section "B" and then, logically, "C" covered the "Why" God loves us. Needless to say, there was no new information. It seemed that God had a pretty tightly organized love process.
Anyway, I still remember the ride home from Church. It was pretty quiet. Very quiet. In fact---- too quiet. So...I thought I would open with the first question......."Well..Susie, what did you think of point B2?"
Then both Susie and I burst out in uncontrollable laughter.
Then Mom interjected, "Now kids, that's just enough,.....enough. "
That was the end of the analysis.
I guess that Fr. Jackson was the winner over all the years though. We did remember each and every one of the points. It's just that we never did find love to be as organized as life unfolded. Alleluia.
"The Party"--- a true story
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
The Party
(The following story is true, and is in memory of Art Buchwald, who was on PBS21 last night and in an interview from a hospice, announced he was disconnecting from dialysis.)
It had been a rough week in the hospital business. Right in the middle of the busiest time of the year, the auditors had decided to ask lots of little questions, most of which were not important, a fact that one could not mention even in hushed tones to anyone.
In the midst of all this, I left the business office to get lunch and as I approached the general information desk, I noticed the hospital entrance----filled with balloons to the ceiling and a crowd of 40 folks gathered around laughing and chatting.
They had a certain high tone of voice that I vaguely remembered from family gatherings when I was a kid, when everyone had come from neighboring states and the chit chat had begun, and yes, after the first martini's had been served, shaken not stirred.
So, I said to the volunteer. " I really would like some of what they are drinking."
"Oh no, Mr. Woulfe, they're not drinking. Mr. Johnson is having his party because he has gone off the machines."
"Oh", I said. Looking at Mr. Johnson, I noticed his joy in reveling with all his friends that day, and also a tinge of pride in having a choice in the details of his life right at the end. It was a picture I have never forgotten.
I noticed that pride last night in Art Buchwald's eyes on channel PBS21 McNeil Leher Report. He said that ever since he has been in hospice he has had friends come from all over the country to see him. "I never thought dying could be such fun," he quipped.
(Art buchwald is the author of 20 books, over 5000 columns, which appeared in 550 newspapers worldwide. He claimed that since Henry Kissinger departed from Washington, he was the only sex symbol left in Washington. )
Posted by Evansville Observer at 7:35 AM
The Party
(The following story is true, and is in memory of Art Buchwald, who was on PBS21 last night and in an interview from a hospice, announced he was disconnecting from dialysis.)
It had been a rough week in the hospital business. Right in the middle of the busiest time of the year, the auditors had decided to ask lots of little questions, most of which were not important, a fact that one could not mention even in hushed tones to anyone.
In the midst of all this, I left the business office to get lunch and as I approached the general information desk, I noticed the hospital entrance----filled with balloons to the ceiling and a crowd of 40 folks gathered around laughing and chatting.
They had a certain high tone of voice that I vaguely remembered from family gatherings when I was a kid, when everyone had come from neighboring states and the chit chat had begun, and yes, after the first martini's had been served, shaken not stirred.
So, I said to the volunteer. " I really would like some of what they are drinking."
"Oh no, Mr. Woulfe, they're not drinking. Mr. Johnson is having his party because he has gone off the machines."
"Oh", I said. Looking at Mr. Johnson, I noticed his joy in reveling with all his friends that day, and also a tinge of pride in having a choice in the details of his life right at the end. It was a picture I have never forgotten.
I noticed that pride last night in Art Buchwald's eyes on channel PBS21 McNeil Leher Report. He said that ever since he has been in hospice he has had friends come from all over the country to see him. "I never thought dying could be such fun," he quipped.
(Art buchwald is the author of 20 books, over 5000 columns, which appeared in 550 newspapers worldwide. He claimed that since Henry Kissinger departed from Washington, he was the only sex symbol left in Washington. )
Posted by Evansville Observer at 7:35 AM
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