SUMMER NIGHTS

1955, and the summer dress code was dungarees (they weren’t called jeans then) with the cuffs folded to create a “pegged pants” look, and a white tee shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pack of cigarettes folded into one of them.  If you were not wearing machine boots you had on penny loafers –with socks.  The look of the fifties has been well documented, albeit exaggerated, on TV and in the movies.

For a teenager without a drivers license there was not much too do on summer evenings in a rural town of 3000 people except hang out, and we had a great place to do just that…Bob White’s custard and pizza stand.  The building was small, you ordered from the outside, but attached to it was a covered patio with tables, chairs, and a jukebox, everything a group of teenagers needed to entertain themselves for an hour or two.  Our gatherings varied from as few as 3 or 4 of us to as many as 8-10.  We were not rowdy and the worst thing we did was dance, which wasn’t allowed (something to do with the stand’s business license).

Landisville’s “downtown” stretched for about one mile along US Highway 40 (Harding Highway in our township) and included a drugstore, several restaurants and taverns, a movie theater, several gas stations, and a few assorted local business, including BW’s custard and pizza stand on the eastern part of town.  US 40, one of early coast-to-coast highways, was about ¼ mile from our farm.  If I drove from our house to the highway and turned right I could be in Philadelphia in an hour; if I turned left, one hour would find me in Atlantic City.  In the 1950’s this was the most direct route from Philadelphia to the southern Jersey Shore - Atlantic City, Wildwood, Ocean City, and Cape May.  This meant slow, bumper-to- bumper traffic through our town on summer weekends, especially Friday and Sunday evenings.  The traffic was our entertainment as well as our audience.  Looking back on those summer evenings, sitting outside and listening to the music, just a stones throw from the cars slowly making their way through town, I can see how we played to the people looking at us through open windows.   I don’t think it had anything to do with trying to impress these strangers driving through our community.  We were teenagers who simply wanted to be what we thought we were...cool.  Not for anyone’s sake but our own.  And we did this while we ate our subs and/or pizza, drank soda, smoked cigarettes, and listened to the music.  There was no beer, no fighting, and no loud cars racing around town, just a group of friends who shared the same classrooms since age 5 looking for a way to have fun.

VALUES A Primer for Politicians

“Vote for my candidate because he shares your values.”  How often have you heard that during the recent election campaign? “Values”, a word tossed about with a demeaning casualness in today’s public discourse but rarely defined, leaving the term open to a variety of interpretations.  I suspect most of the time it is code word used to reach the base audience of the speaker or writer, so there is no reason to clarify or define what these values are. In today’s cultural cauldron when a politician talks of “values” he is most likely referring to one, or all, of the following:  homosexuality, gay marriage, and abortion. By definition, any position on these issues can be held in high value, and it is easy to understand why they have become so contentious.

My concern is not with these issues, but that they have come to be the public definition of our cultural and social values, at the expense of others.  There are several that I consider far more important than one’s beliefs about sexuality and abortion. There are values that reflect our behavior, attitude, and treatment of others, values that determine the character of our society. 

HONESTY & INTEGRITY

I see this as the bedrock of all of the others.  The concept of honesty, as it applies to our interactions with others, is not a difficult one to understand. Honesty also means not misrepresenting facts or purposely omitting facts that do not support your position.  An even more important aspect of honesty is being honest with our selves.  If we cannot do this, then we cannot be honest with others.   Self-deception is dangerously easy, but recognizing and acknowledging it is difficult.

Honesty also means not misrepresenting yourself, pretending to be something else for purposes of deception and/or personal gain.

CIVILITY

Without civility we degrade into an antagonistic, bombastic society, awash with name-calling and inflammatory rhetoric, which effectively precludes thoughtful dialog as well as mutual respect.  It is easy to be polite and courteous to those we like and who share our sentiment.  The challenge is to extend that same treatment to those with whom we disagree.

THOUGHTFULNESS

Imagine how different our national politics would be if thoughtfulness was valued. Thoughtfulness should be at the top of the list of values to be cultivated and nurtured.  It is a rare occasion that does not allow us time to think before we speak or act.  Even more important is how we formulate our opinions and ideas, and how we respond to those that differ from our own.  Thoughtfulness can prevent inflammatory and emotional exchanges with others.  It gives us pause to reflect on the nature and validity of opinions and ideas we confront, our own, and those of others. It provides the time and space needed to develop respect for conflicting beliefs, and to critically examine our own.

RESPECT – UNDERSTANDING – TOLERANCE

Politically and culturally our society has become increasingly divisive, leading to antagonistic and inflammatory dialog on many issues.  My concern is that some people come to see this as the only way – or an accepted way – to deal with conflict and disagreements.  But when we take the time to quietly exchange ideas and beliefs we usually find that what we have in common is far more than what we disagree on.  We need to learn to respect those who disagree with us, by leaning heavily on our shared commonality.

This can be accomplished by developing listening skills, to hear what is being said, without immediately responding defensively and reiterating our own feelings and ideas.  The person disagreeing with you probably feels as deeply and passionately about his or her position or belief as you do.

I am not proposing that we ignore our differences; that would be neither possible nor desirable.  On the contrary, we should, learn from one another by embracing them and selecting the best that each has to offer. This will not happen until we embrace these values.  Without them, partisanship and distrust flourishes, preventing meaningful compromise.  And a Democracy representing over 300 million people cannot survive without its leadership compromising on its political and fiscal policies, and its citizens respecting religious differences.

Unfortunately, for someone whose primary interest is personal gain and not the common good, none of this would be of interest.

A GENTLE MAN AM I

At least that is how I think of myself, and I believe those who know me would agree with this humble assessment.  I abhor violence of any kind and would never think of striking someone, well, OK, maybe I would think of it, but would never do so!  (When I was 9 years old I did punch a friend in his nose, but that was only because I was provoked.)  Except in very rare circumstances I do not yell and scream at others.  In fact, my life in general has been focused on making other people feel better about themselves, both physically and emotionally.  So the incident I am about to describe is totally out of character for me, in fact looking back I cannot believe it really happened, but it did.

Emergency medicine in a busy city hospital can be challenging and stressful, especially on Friday and Saturday nights when there is no telling who and what will walk through the door.  A lot can happen to drive an otherwise sane and gentle person to uncharacteristic behavior.  THAT is my excuse, and I’m sticking to it!

Shortly after the ”last call” in the local pubs we could count on several patients scattered about the ER on gurneys in various states of acute intoxication.  Most of the time they were understandably subdued and quiet, but there was always the occasional obnoxious drunk who could not resist articulating his (they were almost always men.) alcohol-tainted feelings about his life’s circumstances to anyone and everyone in hearing distance.

It had been an especially busy night and I was near the end of my shift in the acute care unit.  I was tired and depleted, struggling to cope with all that was required of me, and this one very noisy and obscene drunk was beginning to get on my nerves.  A constant stream of obscenities flowed from his mouth, loud enough to be heard by the other patients in the area.  I politely asked him to be quiet, repeatedly, to no avail.  I tried pleading, coxing, and even bribing, but nothing worked.  Finally in desperation I threatened him!  I told him that if he did not cease his yelling I would remove his filthy socks from his equally filthy feet and stuff them in his mouth!!  Actually I believe I yelled something like, “if you don’t shout your g………m filthy mouth I’ll’....well, you get the idea.  He told me to F___ off, and continued to yell and swear. So I did it!  To the shock of the nurses and staff, and to the patient, I pulled off one of his socks, balled it up, and shoved it into his mouth.

I don’t know how many of you readers have had the occasion to remove socks from the feet of some one who hasn’t bathed in who knows how long; the skin of the lower legs and feet is dry, flaky, and dirty, and when a sock is pulled of the foot it is invariably accompanied by dry flakes of dirty skin.

I really don’t know how long it remained in his mouth, far less than a minute.  But it was effective.  He knew I was not some one to antagonize; in his alcohol-saturated mind I was mean and evil, and certainly not a compassionate healer.  I suspected that even the ER staff looked at me a little differently after that.

There is no telling what a Friday night shift in the ER will do to a person

THE NAVIGATOR from TRANSITIONS

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From TRANSITIONS, a compilation of notes and poems from my journal documenting the stormy journey from medicine to art.
 

Without our hearts to guide us, we lose our way

On paths so dimly lit

Our heart

Will see where our eyes cannot see

Will hear what our ears cannot hear

Will know what our mind cannot know

It is the link to our soul

The navigator of life’s journey

1980

PATRIOTISM

The dictionary defines patriotism as “love for or devotion to one’s country”.  In America we have endless opportunities to express our patriotism in national and local commemorations, as well as privately, in manners of our own choosing.  The pride and love we feel for our country comes from a deeply seated emotional bonding that develops unconsciously over our lifetime.  Who has not experienced goose bumps when hearing the National Anthem, or God Bless America?  How often have we shed tears at the site of flag draped caskets carrying fallen soldiers back home to heartbroken loved ones? These deeply rooted emotional bonds provide the energy that fuels our celebratory parades, fire works, and music, and helps us create  red, white, and blue landscapes on our streets and homes.  And they do much more; they drive young men and women into military service, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice when the country they love is threatened.  Patriotism’s power is immense, and can find expression in many ways.

Although they may overlap, expressing our patriotism and acting on it are two different things.  There are some simple expressions that require little effort: bumper stickers and decals that claim support for our troops, similar signage on buildings and windows, and American flags on our homes or in our yards.  Then there are acts of patriotism that require much more of us.  Although service in the military or other national service programs are not available to all of us, others are. Participating in civic affairs and making an effort to become an informed voter are acts of patriotism. 

There is some flag waving that I consider adolescent.  The adolescent patriot bears the signs that read – My country, love it or leave it, and My country, right or wrong, or, This is America, speak English.  He or she adamantly believes in the concept of American Exceptionalism, and demeans anyone who speaks critically of our country.   He will not abide anyone who “disrespects” the American flag, and bristles at the notion of having to apologize for any of America’s actions or policies.  As sincere and heartfelt as these beliefs are, they do a disservice to America.

In contrast, there are the mature patriots, who recognize their responsibility as citizens to address America’s shortcomings as well as her greatness.  They understand that before a problem can be corrected it must first be acknowledged. They work quietly, without a great deal of fanfare, and are not interested in drawing attention to themselves. Recognizing that America is part of a global community and that our country is not perfect, and not “the best” in everything, the mature patriot is willing to admit, and apologize for America’s errors.  

Our pride in all that is great about America is not diminished by a willingness to face her flaws and her mistakes.  Our quest for greatness can begin with the humble acknowledgement that as members of a global community we share equally in God’s grace.  To be exceptional in this community, we must act exceptionally, and we cannot do this if we remain blinded to our shortcomings. 

GARLIC, ANCHOVIES, ANXIETY, AND ART

I love garlic – or more accurately – I love cooking with garlic.  I don’t like eating it by itself, raw, or cooked.  In fact I distinctly dislike it.  But when it is added to other ingredients it enhances the flavor and adds a unique and delightful touch to the dish.  When used properly garlic makes everything better than it is; it can make a cook look good.  The same applies to anchovies.  The small fillets packed in oil have a pungent odor and a taste that must be “acquired”, something I have yet to fully accomplish.  But like garlic, when used in measured amounts with other ingredients they add another dimension to the flavor without imposing their own.  Three or four finely chopped fillets added early in the process of making tomato sauce for “Sunday pasta” enriches the sauce without revealing their presence.

Anxiety (and worry) is a lot like garlic and anchovies.  Its value depends on the circumstances and the amount.  Anxiety over something we have no control is wasted energy.  When it is excessive it can be debilitating, rendering us helpless and unable to function.  And yet there are times when we cannot help crying over the spilled milk.  Anxiety can be forceful and overwhelming when it is unchecked.  So much so that it is listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

Anxiety disorders are the most common mental illness in the U.S., affecting almost 20% of adults, according to leading specialists in anxiety treatment. (http://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/guide/anxiety-panic-guide-overview-facts)  But in small doses, anxiety can behave like garlic and anchovies, and become a useful and helpful tool.

I’m sure I’m not the only artist to hear the comment, “how relaxing it must be to paint”.  When asked about this I am quick to point out that painting is definitely not a relaxing exercise for me. In fact it is usually very stressful, especially as the painting progresses and I invest more and more of myself in the work. I have a tendency – okay, it is more of an unbreakable habit than a tendency – to put off the more difficult parts of the painting for as long as possible.  And when I am forced to confront them, I can count on the accompaniment of palpable anxiety.  I have learned that this is not only inevitable, but a welcomed part of the creative process. My best work is always accomplished under the duress of varying degrees of anxiety. Its presence tells me that I am moving forward into unfamiliar places where real creative growth is possible.

This is the positive side of anxiety.  When we are faced with a need to act, a task at hand, or a decision to be made, it can be helpful rather than incapacitating.  It sharpens our minds and increases our awareness of all of options and their potential hazards.  It helps us determine whether we should be cautious or aggressive.  The right amount of anxiety may urge us to go ahead and push at those boundaries, or it may cause us to pause, and discover previously unknown obstacles lying in wait for us.  In its own way, anxiety makes us a little bit wiser. It does not promise success, but encourages the effort. It has taught me to appreciate the difference between stress and distress.  In measured and controllable amounts, anxiety is my friend.  There is little question in my mind that my creative efforts need anxiety as much as my cooking needs garlic and an occasional anchovy.

NOW - A journey in words

Today’s post is taken from my book, TRANSITIONS, a compilation of notes and poems from my journal documenting the stormy journey from medicine to art.

INTRODUCTION

Words are the tools we use to give form and substance to our lives.  They help us understand our stories by allowing us to confront, question, and ponder.  With words we can invite others into our world.

Sometimes the words are given to us, erupting from our subconscious un-announced, as precious gifts from the soul.  Other times we must do the work, struggling to find the words we need.  The words in this book are a mixture of both; many were “given to me”, while others required work.

As I am writing this introduction it occurs to me that perhaps even those words we must work for, are, in the end, also gifts.

NOW

I have been standing – waiting – waiting

Waiting to move closer to the edge

Slowly – imperceptibly – moving toward the brink

Slowly – imperceptibly – removing myself from those around me

The path wanders, my journey falters, appearing to cease

But always – always moving closer to the edge

Where I must step up to the brink and declare my faith

And the willingness to stand alone – and face the darkness

1/19/78