What do I want to leave behind?

I played a blues oriented set Thursday night at Henry Turner, Jr's Listening Room and got up around 6 AM Friday to move my car so workmen had room to park behind our house.  Darrin, the floor finisher, had two more coats to apply which he did in two visits. When we get up on Sunday, we'll be able to walk on the kitchen floor again. 

As usual, I was tired Friday morning after playing, even though Henry had me go first and I got home by 10:30 PM and went to be around 11. I spent the morning lounging around while Darrin applied a coat and a crew from Best Buy installed our new TV on the bedroom wall and programmed the Cox Csble remote. I eventually achieved full alertness midafternoon. 

At some point clarity emerged in the form of the question: What do I want to leave behind for my survivors when I'm gone? I like this thought. I will keep it in mind and meditate on it.

Stop me if you've heard this one

I woke around 6am from a detailed disturbing dream. I was staying at a big, upscale hotel with Jenny. We were returning to our room at midnight and for some reason she went ahead of me after reminding me of the room number. There was a free buffet in an open area and I wanted to eat. It was busy but close to closing time.  I followed a group of people to an elevator overhearing a woman ask how they did, apparently referring to a presentation. I interjected a non sequitur which was ignored. I called Jenny to tell her I would be there soon as I didn't have a key and needed her to let me in. I enlisted a young woman employee who was thin with short hair and friendly demeanor to help me find our room. In my brief interactions with her, I learned her name was Billie Jean and it seemed to me I detected some attraction to me on her part. We went to the 4th floor. Here there was a fancy women's clothing store with guest rooms along the side. The store was full of shoppers even though it was well past midnight. I wandered around trying to determine where our room was. At this point, Billie Jean was gone and a stocky older female employee asked me what I was looking for and ended up assisting me. We arrived at room 406 which I thought was correct but a couple was checking into it. When I tried to call Jenny again to verify the room number, my device kept changing and behaving erratically making it impossible to place the call. Finally, I asked a bulky security man for help by calling the front desk but he refused dismissively and walked off telling me to call the desk myself. Feeling anxious and confused, I took my wallet out only to find my money was gone and my credit cards had been cut into pieces and stuck back in the card slots. It was now 330am, none of this made sense and I was at a loss what to do. I was relieved to awaken at that moment.

Why do I have this sort of recurring dream? The obvious answer is it reflects core fears of inadequacy, helplessness and abandonment. It doesn't reflect my current circumstances although dreams seldom do.  In the dream, I was behaving rationally and things were Ok at first but as it continued, I was impeded progressively by other people, technology failure, and mental confusion. It seemed someone had stolen the money from my wallet and probably cut up the credit cards before sticking them back into my wallet. That would seem to indicate someone was trying to cause disruption beyond just the theft. 

Associations and thoughts:  1) It reminds me of being at professional conferences at big hotels in major cities where I was an insignificant participant. On further thought, it also reminded me of Las Vegas casinos Scott Thurman and I saw that operate 24/7 so it looks the same no matter the time. 2) Jenny and I have vacationed together and stayed at various hotels, most recently in Portland, Maine. There was a conference in New York City Mary Lou and I attended while Jenny was in law school. However, those connections don't feel as strong as the professional conference association. 3) I've had any number of dreams involving being lost and unable to find my car and/or wandering around an unfamiliar place or building. 4) Getting to the hotel room represents refuge, a safe place. If I could find the room, Jenny would let me in and I'd be OK. 5) In the dream, I was concerned about waking Jenny up as it had gotten so late. 6) I have a fear that other people don't really care about me, that I will always have to take care of myself and that I will fail and suffer serious consequences. That's not true in real life. 7) The strange dysfunction of my cellular device is another recurring element. I'm sure I've described earlier such dreams in this blog. Like most people, I've come to rely heavily on my cell phone in daily life.  The way the dream story typically goes, I'm trying to dial a number but I can't get the keypad screen to come up or when I do, it isn't configured in a way that works properly. In the dream at hand, text and mathematical functions appeared on one screen, then the entire device unfolded into 4 parts. I wondered if that wasn't my actual phone but couldn't find another one.  8) The dream implies that rational problem-solving isn't always sufficient to prevent things from falling apart which is true. 9) The cut up credit cards is a strange detail. You cut up credit cards because they've expired or because you don't want to run up debt.  10) Billie Jean is not my lover.

The days of my life

As noted previously, we're having.our kitchen and upstairs bath renovated with the resulting disorder of appliances, dishes, food and sundry items displaced and deposited expediently in other rooms and workers coming and going and making noise with hammers and power tools. The last few days featured cold, dreary weather. Maureen's family all got covid from Cody's mother (fortunately, they all had mild cases). All of this his provides me with plenty of distractions and excuses not to do much except sit around thinking and surfing through sports, news and social media sites. OK, I'm going to take a shower now and get back to work on the family archives. 

Windshield wiper

I saw Dr. Fivgas, the retina specialist, on Monday. I arrived with trepidation due to an odd symptom, a black object in my visual field resembling a black, curved windshield wiper extending down from the upper region.  It behaved like a floater but didn't look like any floater I've experienced. But that's what it is and the doc reassured me it's no cause for concern. Whew, I'm not going to go blind at this point in time. But if I did, I would accept it and press on. 

The bonfire of my therapeutic legacy

Over the long course of my career as a psychotherapist, I encouraged my patients to listen to tape recordings of our sessions in order to process and digest the content of our conversations. Some of my memorable patients chose to leave the tapes in my possession and allowed them to remain with me after we completed our work together.  When we closed our old office after I retired, I moved the tapes to one of two storage units we rent. Mary Lou and I went today to consolidate down to one unit and I decided it was time to dispose of the tapes. I brought them home and went through a large number of old cassettes from the 1990s blacking out the names on the labels and using a bulk eraser to scramble the magnetic particles on the tape before depositing them in a dumpster set behind our house by the contractor overseeing renovations of our kitchen and upstairs bathroom.

I felt sad and ambivalent about destroying these remarkable conversations, especially those of Vicky L. I had composed a title for each session and a part of me wanted to keep and listen to them, revisiting many hours of intense, intimate and often amusing creative therapeutic work over 4 or 5 years. She was an amazing and wonderful person and I loved working with her. But that was 25 years ago and what was the likelihood I'd ever do it? The recordings were confidential and not having heard from the patients in all that time, I felt it best to erase and dispose of the tapes. Everything in this world is transient. They're gone and time flows on.

My 1977 Star Wars review

This review of mine was published in the Saturday edition of the Athens Banner-Herald/The Daily News on July 16. 1977, just before I left Athens for grad school. I had met the editor, Kelly, via Kate Pierson and when I showed him the piece, he liked it and made it a featured article!

"A long time ago in a Galaxy far far away," Thus begins the surprise cinematic success of 1977, director George Lucas' space epic "Star Wars." Moments later, the titanic hall of an Imperial space cruiser darkens the screen and an adventure is underway which will lead in two swift hours across the marvelous span of the universe and through a timeless duel of good and evil owing its existence purely to the imagination. 

For an unheralded movie to push its way through the higher budget competition securing its place in the eyes of the mass media and filling the coffers of its producers is rare enough; but, when the subject matter of the picture is outer space adventure we are dealing with a phenomenon. 

 Everyone knows, after all, that this sort of fare attracts a small group of science fiction fanatics and Star Trekkies, but not the wide range of movie goers necessary to create a smash. Nevertheless as the executives in charge of "A Bridge Too Far," "Exorcist 2" and "The Deep" look on with envy, executives at 20th Century Fox are sitting back and congratulating themselves with the grand accomplishment of director Lucas. 

Lucas' track record is extremely brief. Neither the bleak futuristic "THX 1138" nor the highly successful period piece "American Graffiti" prepares the viewer for the experience of “Star Wars.” The earlier films belong to their respective time frames while, as Hollywood aficionados and older fans will recognize, "Star Wars" stands alongside Flash Gordon, the old Errol Flynn/Olivia de Havilland classics and innumerable Allies versus Nazis pieces, horse operas and flyboy epics in the mainstream of the Hollywood tradition. Thus, we could compare "Star Wars" to "The Forbidden Planet," a wonderful sci-fi fantasy of the fifties, but not to Kubrick's "2001: A space Odyssey" which consciously aspires to the level of art. 

The  plot of "Star Wars" is straightforward. Briefly, it concerns the coming of age of a young man (Mark Hamill) in a setting of interplanetary rebellion. A small band of rebels, seeking to restore the peace of an earlier time, has captured the plans to the oppressive Empire's ultimate weapon, the Death Star, a space station capable of instantaneously disintegrating an entire planet. The aid of one Obi Wan Kenobi (Alec Guinness), a former general living anonymously on a remote desert world, is essential to the rebel success, for Kenobi is a master of the Zen-like Force which "surrounds us and penetrates us and binds the galaxy together” and whose power dwarfs even the advanced technology of the Empire. The Empire also has a master of the Force, Lord Darth Vader (played to perfection by David Prowse), in its service. While rebel and Imperial troops struggle on the material plane, Kenobi and Vader maintain the flame of an archaic religion, representative of the elemental conflict between good and evil which underlies Lucas’ fantasy world. 

The cosmos of Star Wars is also populated by a brave, beautiful princess (Carrie Fisher), a courageous but self-serving space smuggler (Harrison Ford), a mismatched android duo (Kenny Baker and Anthony Daniels) and various strange life forms both friendly and malevolent, in short, a constellation of archetypal fantasy characters. 

So far, nothing too surprising. What in fact is so remarkable about this?

First, that it can be done in 1977. Director Lucas seems quite sincere about the values offered in his film. Looking back on his earlier work, a sensitive concern for human worth may be perceived. “THX1138” depicts a couple trying to feel in a sterile world, while the episodes of “American Graffiti” sympathetically treat human foibles in a confusing, transitional time. For persons seeking meaning, adoption of a simple, traditional ethical scheme is not unusual; and, in an era whose films often explore its jaded sophistication and scarring anxieties (Woody Allen’s excellent “Annie Hall,” for example), Lucas has migrated to an essentially mythological plane.

Second, that it is done so well. Indulging in a simplified conception is risky business but Lucas responds brilliantly, using the very technology so often seen as a threat by humanists to overpower whatever cynicism the viewer may harbor. Ladies and gentlemen, the special effects are stunning. The spaceships, the ray gun fights, the holographic chess game, the bizarre creatures, the laser swords, whew! When you leave the theater you’ll wonder what hit you,. The actors perform commendably with the difficult task of making a timeworn style come to life, with Guiness, Prowse and Ford standing out. In addition, Star Wars is often quite funny, as Lucas wastes no opportunity to insert a humorous touch. 

None or this should be mistaken for reality. Films succeed by entertaining and a simple, elegant structure in the hands of a sensitive, intelligent director is a formula which equals marvelous entertainment,

Dawgs win and Hope turns to Joy!

Well, Kirby Smart finally beat Nick Saban and Georgia finally won a national championship in football for the first time since Herschel Walker's freshman season in 1980. The game ended around 11pm and I stayed up until maybe 1am enjoying the postgame coverage. I had to get up by 7am yesterday to make way for the workers who are busy on the upstairs bathroom as I type. I decided to spend the entire day savoring the victory via videos, Sirius-XM sports talk, social media and by reading and commenting on all the articles about the game in the Athletic, of which there were many. 

I've followed Georgia beat writer Seth Emerson since he covered the Dawgs for the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer and he is one of the best at his craft. Yes, I know, football is just a game and one that's hazardous to the bodies or the athletes. Billions of dollars are spent and made in the college football industry and millions of fans give it major (and often excessive) importance in their daily lives. I've put considerable thought into the role of sports in human society and my own emotional engagement with certain teams and players. Without taking a deep dive in this post, I'll observe that sports serve some valuable functions for individual athletes and communities of fans. This year's highly talented Bulldogs manifested admirable qualities of commitment, determination, effort, sacrifice and brotherhood that served them well and eventuated in achieving the highest goal in their sport. Stetson Bennett, Jordan Davis, Nakobe Dean, Zamir White, James Cook, Quay Walker, Kelee Ringo, Lewis Cine, Jamaree Salyer, Brock Bowers, George Pickens, Adonai Mitchell... these are some of the young men who will be remembered as heroes for as long as people care about the Dawgs. 

Win or lose, it's great to be a Georgia Bulldog... but it's a lot more fun when the Dawgs win it all!

Renovation

Our kitchen, breakfast room and master bathroom upstairs are being ripped up to make way for new floors, cabinets, counter tops and fixtures, creating the usual disorder of 'pardon our progress.' As many have observed, we're either growing or we're dying. Our trusted contractor, Richard Jackson, is overseeing the work with hands on. He's a good man whom I enjoy having around.  I have a number of items on my to do list involving upgrades or improvements in my practical life- new phone, new headphones, amplifier repairs, and one to add- air filters for the house and studio. I can afford all of these things if I just go ahead and act. Irrational anxiety and avoidant apathy hold me back. However, I have taken care of a number of important items and checked them off on my phone app with the green checkmark emoji. 

Additional note: Tonight is the National Championship football game between Georgia and Alabama. The Dawg Nation awaits the kickoff with apprehension based on Georgia's dismal record against the Nick Saban under Mark Richt (1-2) and Kirby Smart (0-5). Since winning in 2007, the Dawgs have lost 7 straight including a surprisingly lopsided defeat in the 2021 SEC  Championship game just over a month ago. I expect Georgia to put up a better fight this time but is this the day we finally break the losing streak and Kirby gets his first win over his former boss? I've learned to view sporting contests philosophically but having been a Georgia fan since the late 1950's when Fran Tarkenton was playing QB under Coach Wally Butts, it would be nice to see the Dawgs prevail for their first national championship since 1980 when Herschel Walker played against Notre Dame in the Sugar Bowl with a dislocated shoulder. Win or lose, it's great to be a Georgia Bulldog. Go Dawgs, sic 'em, woof woof woof.

Onward into 2022

I woke up yesterday morning and as usual gave myself a pep talk about staying positive and engaged with my life. My battle with dysthymia is ongoing. Besides prayer and once more reminding myself of how good I have it in relation to most people, especially those in my age range, I found myself going over my song We are the ones in my head. 

We are the ones who promised no surrender/We won't back down before the lies and insults that the narcissists let fly/We are the ones who see right through them/Solutions can be found for every problem if we care enough to try/We aren't done yet, our children need us/No draw from our experience the wisdom we can use to lead the way/We won't back down-we're moving forward/Their clock is ticking down, the time is now, the day is ours, we are the ones!

I did write that one not too long ago and Trump was defeated as predicted. It's a good song and I believe in what I said. So, I will press on and give it my best as I've done my entire life.

2022

 It's New Year's Day 2022 and our house guests have all returned to their homes. Lauren, Mark and Bert departed on Tuesday the 28th and I took Jenny and Manny to the airport in New Orleans today for her 1pm flight to LaGuardia. I canceled on Henry Turner, Jr's NYE party last night due to the omicron surge, staying home to watch Georgia demolish Michigan in the Orange Bowl, setting up a rematch with Alabama in Indianapolis a week from Monday for the Division 1 National Championship. I know it's just a game and I look at winning and losing games philosophically but it is nice to win. Perhaps this is the year the Dawgs finally get another ring. Cody watched with me outside in our covered space and Randy stopped by before and after going to dinner. Upon Georgia closing out the game, I opened up the bottle of Brut Rose we had been saving since our trip to France, poured champagne glasses for Randy, Kristi, Maureen, Jenny, Cody and myself and we toasted the New Year.

The holidays went well in terms of our children all being here and the traditional events occurring with civility and without drama. Jenny did go off on me in front of Cody, Maureen, Randy and Kristi after the Orange Bowl when I turned up the volume on our outdoor TV to hear Stetson Bennet's postgame comments over the conversation. Everyone left shortly thereafter and Jenny continued ranting at me about how incredibly rude I was when I came back into the house. I apologized repeatedly and chose not to react in kind but she wouldn't be satisfied with my apparent contrition; so, I finally broke off the interaction and went upstairs to bed. Today, Jenny was pleasant, acting as if nothing had happened. I made scrambled eggs with ham and cheddar cheese for breakfast which we both enjoyed. As I dropped her off, we exchanged a few words in which she chalked the incident up to us both being intoxicated. All right, then. It's quiet and peaceful here now and Mary Lou and I are both relieved to have gotten through the holidays. I have no intention of making formal resolutions this year- I'll just keep up my to do list and strive to check off the items efficiently.