Advice to a former patient seeking reconciliation with her lover

Your message to ___ was lovely. What I think is this- often we feel the need to do something to make something good happen. However, often the best course of action is to be patient and do nothing. I call that "waiting for the wave," a metaphor drawn from surfing. I may have given you this concept at some time in the past but it bears revisiting. When you've prepared yourself to seize upon the moment of opportunity (the wave) you simply paddle out into the surf and wait. It appears you're doing nothing but in actuality everything that came before has prepared you for the challenge ahead. That's the situation I see with you and Vic. Another way I put it is in the form of a maxim: Instead of trying to control things, become harmonious with them. Your message to Vic is harmonious with his grief process. It expresses understanding and willingness to be there as a supportive friend. I don't think he has anyone else who is willing and able that he can turn to. So, my advice is don't try to make anything happen. Be patient and have faith. I believe it's well founded. It's also a lot less stressful than trying to figure out what it is you need to do to make him want to be with you. No need for that because you've already achieved the goal. If he feels pressure, he will withdraw. If he senses you just want to be there for him, he will move closer. Be receptive, not active.

Dream

I'm in Ireland just after an event I'd attended. I'm standing at the intersection of a highway and a side road deciding which route I will take to return to my starting point. I know either route will get me there. I'm talking to a slender young woman I just met. We're having a pleasant conversation. I ask her hopefully if she'd like to come with me. She declines. I decide to take the side road and begin walking confidently with no concern about safety or getting to my destination. I wonder of perhaps ask aloud if hitchhiking is against the law in Ireland. We wave goodbye to one another as she steps back and turns away.

Next I'm traveling on the route in my Porsche with my father driving. We come to a town where Dad turns into the parking area in front of a comfortable house instead of staying on the road. A lady walk out of the house to get her mail and I recall and comment that the same lady had done the same thing when I passed by previously. I was struck by the coincidence. I thought Dad was getting tired and I offered to drive but he said he was OK. Just past the house there was a fence blocking the road. I knew I'd gotten through this road previously ade I pointed out how you could see the road to the left climbing a hill into the town. Then, we saw an unpaved street leading straight ahead into a residential section. We drove into it. A utility truck was parked on the right making it iffy to pass without hitting the truck. However, Dad drove past it without sideswiping the truck.

Thoughts and associations-

The side road brings to mine "the road less traveled." I have followed my own eccentric path through life rather than following conventional models, at least internally.

The slender girl reminds me of all the women I've admired and been attracted to who haven't gone down the path of life with me.

Traveling alone on foot is a youthful adventure, not something I would do at my current age of 67.

My father driving my Porsche makes me think that his example and values are still guiding my life, despite the outward differences in our lifestyles..

The Wizard of Redding

I'm in a commuter jet from Redding to San Francisco (and now, a few hours later, aboard a big Airbus 320 from there to Houston) after spending five days devoted to recording a set of my original songs with Marc "Coop" Cooper. I say five days although a considerable amount of time was spent by Marc on other things, notably his appointment yesterday with a leading oncologist named Dr. Toscano in Sacramento to discuss results of testing and options for further treatment.

Marc and his wife, Rene, got back from the trip in the middle of the afternoon and it took a little while for him to transition back to my songs. Other days were not particularly efficient, either, such that instead of eight fairly complete recordings as planned (and paid for), we ended up with four unfinished ones (Cold dead hands, Hurricane, Dynaflow Club, and Making a stand) with no vocals attempted. Finishing them will require me to make another trip to Redding and, I assume, will incur additional charges.

Marc has many connections in the music industry and seems to stay busy with various gigs and projects but I'm sure his very serious health problems (non-Hodgkin's lymphoma and mysterious lesions in his lungs that may or may not be NHL) have drained the family's resources. I'm in a position to travel and pay a fair price for his work and I want my recordings to be the best possible. I'm incredibly blessed to be alive, in good health, in possession of a certain amount of knowledge and wisdom, financially secure far beyond my needs, motivated to use my time meaningfully, and free to do pretty much as I please. Very few people in this world enjoy so many advantages.

Of course, I would like to have flown away with eight rough tracks including vocals but I decided early in the first day to subordinate my agenda to Marc's creative process. He is an amazing musician and producer, able to use his guitar and software modeling courtesy of a programmable Roland multi-effect device similar to my old Blue Box to create a fantastic array of convincing imitations of every species of guitar, amplifier, keyboard instrument, bass guitar, and effect from which he builds arrangements and instrumentation, working feverishly over the computer and commenting to himself continuously, all of this the result of an adult life relentlessly devoted to developing all of those skills and learning to integrate them in the art of song production. Marc's ability to create cool organ chops from the fretboard was particularly impressive.

And, yet, the higher levels of success his accomplishment might have allowed him to achieve have eluded him. I can see how certain facets of his personality have put limits on his success. One is a kind of paranoia or distrust that has kept him from getting too close and prevented him from forming alliances, friendships that would open doors to big time gigs. Another is ambivalence about his goals. And a third is the inability to write great original songs. Marc's talent is more being able to produce someone else's songs. I see how that's where I come in. I'm nowhere close to the guitarist he is. I have very limited technical skills or recording and production. But I have the ability to write compelling music and match it with the poetry of rock & roll. This insight wasn't stated aloud by either of us but we both were thinking it.

In the sessions, I supplied the inspiration through demos of my songs and he took it from there, constructing and tweaking for hours while I sat and watched or wandered around the outer practice room of the studio. Very occasionally I would be called upon to play guitar chords and arpeggios or solos. I allowed Marc to select the models for the guitar and amp sounds and to direct me on how he felt my parts should be played. Though I was left necessarily to inhibit my own urges and inclinations, my role wasn't totally passive, as I discussed and approved of each chunk of music I played and everything he played as well. Marc proposed a number of minor modifications to the concepts embodied in my demos including a few I was skeptical about; but, I went along to give his auditory vision a chance. Why? For one thing, the power and sophistication he brought to my songs was evident on each one as the mosaic of instrumental parts grew and developed. Moreover, the joy and excitement Marc expressed in his words, facial expressions and body language was incredibly affirming- here is a brilliant musical artist having a love affair with my creations. "There are many possible ways and no one right way," I said, "to arrange and record a song." I only had to let go of attachment to my own simple demos that in many cases illustrate the exact point.

The strategy affirmed and empowered Marc to work his magic without the intrusive disruption of my little ego. Years of practicing psychotherapy with adults gave me the discipline and honed the clinical intuition guiding my interactions with Marc "Coop" Cooper, the Wizard of Redding.

 The second night as we were working on Hurricane, I went to bed and left him to tweak an emergent hard rocking Zeppelin-esque rendition of the song. When we resumed working the next day, he had transformed the sound completely, making it cleaner and tougher in a way that I found much more original and distinct from the Old School hard rock sound I'd left him with. In the interim after I signed off for the night, the Muse inspired Marc with a superior concept he then went with. We kept up a lively, running conversation throughout the process, identifying influences of his and mine represented in the music.

Hanging out in Redding

On my third day in Redding, we are working on only the second song (Hurricane) of the 8 plus 1 (We are the ones) we had planned to record during this 5 day session.  The first song Marc started on was Cold dead hands and it isn't finished. So far, I haven't attempted any vocals at all. I've ceded control of the process to Marc as he's incredibly skilled and his treatment of my songs sounds fabulous. He appears to obsess about details as he goes along and the progress seems much slower than necessary. I would prioritize getting a basic structure in place, then putting a preliminary vocal track on and then add my lead guitar contributions, with polished vocals being the final step. However, I think it best not to interfere with his creative recording process but to let him do his thing and hope my work on some of the songs is finished before I have to fly out on Wednesday morning around 10am.

Being here is pleasant and relaxing and Marc and his wife, Rene, are very easy to be with. They have three little dachshunds of various ages, an old guy named Bud, a very young girl named Lady who has very soft red hair and loves to roll on her back for tummy rubs, and an intermediate aged girl, Poppy, who is quite nervous and fearful of strangers (case in point, me). She barks loudly when she sees of hears me do anything yet she exhibits approach/avoidance behavior that says she wants to engage with me but is afraid I'm going to hurt her. Marc and Rene acquired Poppy as the result of some couple divorcing (I don't know the story beyond that) and they think she experienced some sort of emotional trauma. I would agree it seems likely given what I've observed.

I found myself getting bored today watching Marc and waiting for him to need me to play something. I think that contributed to my feeling tired now despite taking 4 15mg amphetamine tablets through the course of the day. I did give Marc input on the Hurricane and played some good spontaneous solo lines at the beginning of the song. I don't mind at all letting Marc run the show and give me guidance on how he'd like me to play. His suggestions are harmonious with my aesthetic thinking and, again, what we've got so far sounds terrific. I just wish things moved along more efficiently. I know I've slowed Marc down by engaging him in interesting conversations which he clearly enjoys. He's a very kind, intelligent, and sensitive guy who has led a most varied and interesting life. It would  have been worthwhile to record our conversations for oral history.

I offered to let him register these songs with his publishing company so he can get compensation for any commercial action the songs might generate. I'm not doing this for monetary gain and I'm sure with his big medical expenses, he can use the income. I'm really concerned that with his recurring pulmonary lesions he may not live too much longer. Of course, I could be completely wrong about that and I hope I am. But it's also possible I'm right.

Note to Cody and Maureen about Marc "Coop" Cooper

Redding, California, Saturday, November 16, 2019 I flew out here on Thursday and will fly back next Wednesday. The first song we've been working on, Cold Dead Hands, sounds amazing. The goal is to get 8 songs completed. I let Marc listen to my demos and pick the ones he wanted to do. Most of them are in the blues-rock ballpark. I'm doing lead guitar and vocals and he's doing everything else which is a lot. He's got amazing playing and production skills, for example, being able to create the sound of bass guitar, organs and synthesizers (and Heaven knows what else) using electronic transformations of parts played on the guitar. I mostly sit there and watch him do magic while occasionally playing guitar or singing. He's also very intelligent and knowledgable with a wide range of life experiences and is very kind, sensitive, and personable. It's like recording in a major studio with world class sidemen. This is very exciting.

Listening to an older vet in the Retina Center waiting room

Killing people isn't my bag but I did my share and I did it well. Americans are freedom loving people. You can tell that because in all the places we fought we never kept any of them. I've been around quite a bit and we're special. I'll tell you this: If they called me tomorrow and said someone is messing around with us, I'd ask one thing- where do you want me to meet you?

Note to Lauren who fell and broke a leg

Dear Lauren,

I hope you're comfortable and getting good care from the doctors and nurses. Mom tells me you want her to wait until you see how things develop before coming up to visit. That makes sense in that your good friends are there to help. I appreciate them being there for you very much as, of course, we're highly concerned that your needs are being met while your broken bones are healing and you're having to depend on others in many ways. 

It was good speaking to you yesterday. You sounded remarkably upbeat. Being hospitalized under the best of circumstances can be quite trying with all the constraints that you're suddenly having to cope with. Mom and I both had the same reaction- it reminded us of how joyfully playful (and lovable) you were as a child and brought up memories of you twirling around like a little dervish. Mom probably mentioned we have photographic evidence to back up our recollection. In any case, if it's cool for Sufis to whirl, why shouldn't you or I? I could easily imagine myself having a similar accident which is why I sometimes consider going around in a bike helmet and padded clothing. I'm actually half serious- Grandfather had a fall resulting in a subdural hematoma which left him permanently impaired and fearful of falling; and, the same thing just sent Jimmy Carter to the hospital. I remember reading long ago in Jung's fascinating autobiography these words: 

"The life of man is a dubious experiment. It is a tremendous phenomenon only in numerical terms. Individually, it is so fleeting, so insufficient, that it is literally a miracle that anything can exist and develop at all. I was impressed by that fact long ago, as a young medical student, and it seemed to me miraculous that I should not have been prematurely annihilated." Prologue of Memories, Dreams, Reflections

When I read Jung 45 years ago or so, I had the experience of hearing his voice speaking the words, something that never happened before or since. I read pretty extensively in his Collected Works while I was playing in bands before I decided I'd better go back and finish college. Jung wrote in a complex Germanic style (as translated into English by Richard Wilhelm) that came across to me as wise and comforting.

I would imagine the whole episode you're undergoing seems surreal but there's no point in getting down on yourself because you had an accident.  It could certainly be a lot worse. We're all incredibly fortunate to have access to the best medical care and to have people in our lives who care and are willing to show up when we need them.  I'm not leaving on my trip to California until Thursday. I will call you later today to check in, hoping I catch you at a convenient time.

Love,

Dad

Things that run through my mind in the night

I'm sure that most people have experiences similar  to mine- you find yourself awake well before it's time to get up and your mind gets going, your thoughts running through a wide range of subjects and emotions as you want to go back to sleep but your brain won't cooperate. When you finally get up to begin the next day, all of this slips from awareness and is definitively forgotten. That is, unless you make a point to remember and write down what you can recall. The difference between me and most people is I've spent my life cultivating the skill of introspection so I'm capable if noticing, remembering, and recording those ephemeral words and images.

So, what did I think about in the early hour of the morning as I lay awake? I thought about things I read during the day and evening, about Jim Mattis and the risk of scientific experimentation destroying our planet by accidentally generating a voracious black hole. I wrote a review of Call Sign Chaos on Goodreads while I was midway through listening to the oral version on Audible; and, after finishing it I want to revise and add updated thoughts and opinions about Mattis and his career. I thought about many of my pet topics- the surreal crisis of Trump being the President, of the 

I wonder why I keep having those recurring dreams about my parents?

In the dream, I was talking to my mother at our old house which she still lived in. At the beginning I had no awareness of my father being there. It seemed that Mom was attending a day program for elderly people and had been driving herself there. I was taken aback that she was able to do this but she looked mentally sharp. "But you have memory problems," I said to her. Mom couldn't explain how she was doing so well.  I kissed her and said, "You know I love you, Mom, and I know you love me. Do you want me to drive you today?" Mom said she would drive herself and she left.

Next I was upstairs in my parents' bedroom. It was in the same condition as when I stayed there prior to selling the house to Roy and Debbie Bell. I now was aware my Dad was still living there, too, although I don't have a clear memory of where or what he was doing. I noted numerous recent newspapers lying on the floor of the bedroom. I started picking them up to take them out for recycling. It seems there was an article in one newspaper I wanted to keep, perhaps about a play or cultural event of some kind. I had an armful so I left one issue on the floor and took the rest down to the backyard. I found two recycling bins but they were like the ones we have in Baton Rouge while the Athens bins were bigger and were a light blue color. I started to roll a bin toward the front. The neighbors on the Henderson side seemed to be the Clinton children. They had to correct recycling bins. I was a bit confused and not sure what to do about having the wrong bin.

Allowing blatant lies in paid political ads (in response to a comment)

Question from libertarian friend:  What media doesn't?

 Me:  Twitter for one. I wonder how much it would cost Facebook to simply implement a policy of no blatant factual lies in political ads, as opposed to what Twitter did (eliminating political ads entirely)? As you know, there are legal restrictions on advertising lies in some domains. e.g., making false or unsubstantiated claims about the effectiveness of drugs, based on public welfare concerns. The public isn't up in arms about this issue (I'm sure polling on it is out there or will be shortly) and I'm not expecting anything to change in the near-term. However, Facebook may be in for trouble from Congress when the political winds shift and pick up which sooner or later they will. The argument will center on public welfare- is it better for the country to allow blatant lies in paid political ads or to ban them. One can imagine a political spot saying, "My opponent voted in favor of publishing lies for profit. Should you trust his ads?" The counter ad will say, "He voted to take away your freedom. Next they'll be coming for your Bible and your guns. Besides that, he's a closet Muslim and he's not an American citizen."