This one is going to be a bit long. As far as the back story whenever dad died I went through his stuff and found his old high school letterman jacket. I'm not sure if your familiar with these but his would have been form the sixties. It has white leather on the arms and a big red letter patch on the breast denoting his high school. It's a typical football letterman jacket. He played when he was in high school. What's funny is that I'm bigger now than my dad was in high school. Now that changed later in life of course. The thing is he played football and he played hard. Form what everyone told me he beat the shit out of people on the field. In his senior yearbook there is a quote from all the leaving football players to their replacements. Dad's says "To whoever can take it from me." I think football provided a violent outlet for dad and actually saved a lot of people from getting their heads kicked in. Looking back now as a clinician I would have no difficulty diagnosing dad with conduct disorder. When dad died I got his jacket. I actually wore it for a day until someone told me there was a gigantic hole in the back shoulder blade. It had been in storage so long a rat had gotten to it. I mentioned it to my mother and gave her the jacket. A year later my mother gave me a Christmas present. It was the jacket refinished and sewn by a seamstress. It is one of the prize possessions. It's one of the few things I can't live without. It's son to be in a glass case in my house.,
So I was working with the cops on a case and I had some downtime why we were waiting for evidence to come back. We were talking about friends when he told me the weirdest thing a cop has ever told me; son in life you have a lot of friends , but you only have a few friends that will help you move a body. I was kind of surprise to be honest with you.
Lately I've really been thinking a lot about isolation tanks. I hear that if you stay in one for more than 2 hours your mind starts to play tricks with you. Wouldn't that be great? I checked into it and they cost 1400 bucks for a cheap model. I wonder if I could build one.
Does anyone know of a good electric razor? I would love to have one. I always look scraggly because I hate to take the time to shave. I tried an electric one once, but I have a gently face and scraped myself up pretty bad. Anyone know of a gentle electric?
I'm an artist and I have no guilt
My best friend described me as his arch nemeses to someone else and I do think it's true, we have a bit of a strange relationship. I do think were best friends, but I am the Mr. Fantastic to his Dr. Doom, or the Batman to his Joker, if you prefer.
You would be amazed what you can find out on a car ride conversation.
You know I've watched all these horror movies from earlier decades where people hide under cars and pull you under. It's always been ridiculous because I don't think I've ever been in a car where someone could easily hide underneath. You sure couldn't do it underneath my car.
I got up this morning and grabbed my phone and dialed my dad's number. Halfway through as it range I realized that he died 2 years ago. I wonder what I would have done if he had picked up? His dead haunting voice asking "son, is that you?"
In my years of travelling I've come to think that we travel to find ourselves not places.
Actually for sex too, I travelled a long way for sex in the past.
Sometimes late at night I'll go into my office, not my office at home, but my office in Chattanooga. It's always scary as hell because the whole building is shut down. There are vast empty open hallways with no lights. They are very quiet. I'm always a tad bit scared and apprehensive because I'll go down the hallways and look into rooms. I'm always scared I'm going to see someone waiting in a room lurched and ready to jump out at me.
I swear lately I've been busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest.
As a therapist anti depressant medication is an interesting subject. It's very common for people to take the meds, get feeling better, think they don't need them, stop taking them, and then hit sudden depression and commit suicide. You have to stay on them if prescribed.
I remember several years ago my car broke down in a very redneck town. I just happen to have four country dudes roll up and offer to help me roll my car to a service station. Things were going well with them until they saw a Cure sticker on the back of my car with Robert Smith looking out and the words" let's go to bed." They didn't say too much to me after that. It was especially difficult as they were all at eye level with the sticker as they were pushing the car from behind.
So I was working with the cops on a case and I had some downtime why we were waiting for evidence to come back. We were talking about friends when he told me the weirdest thing a cop has ever told me; son in life you have a lot of friends , but you only have a few friends that will help you move a body. I was kind of surprise to be honest with you.
Lately I've really been thinking a lot about isolation tanks. I hear that if you stay in one for more than 2 hours your mind starts to play tricks with you. Wouldn't that be great? I checked into it and they cost 1400 bucks for a cheap model. I wonder if I could build one.
Does anyone know of a good electric razor? I would love to have one. I always look scraggly because I hate to take the time to shave. I tried an electric one once, but I have a gently face and scraped myself up pretty bad. Anyone know of a gentle electric?
I'm an artist and I have no guilt
My best friend described me as his arch nemeses to someone else and I do think it's true, we have a bit of a strange relationship. I do think were best friends, but I am the Mr. Fantastic to his Dr. Doom, or the Batman to his Joker, if you prefer.
You would be amazed what you can find out on a car ride conversation.
You know I've watched all these horror movies from earlier decades where people hide under cars and pull you under. It's always been ridiculous because I don't think I've ever been in a car where someone could easily hide underneath. You sure couldn't do it underneath my car.
I got up this morning and grabbed my phone and dialed my dad's number. Halfway through as it range I realized that he died 2 years ago. I wonder what I would have done if he had picked up? His dead haunting voice asking "son, is that you?"
In my years of travelling I've come to think that we travel to find ourselves not places.
Actually for sex too, I travelled a long way for sex in the past.
Sometimes late at night I'll go into my office, not my office at home, but my office in Chattanooga. It's always scary as hell because the whole building is shut down. There are vast empty open hallways with no lights. They are very quiet. I'm always a tad bit scared and apprehensive because I'll go down the hallways and look into rooms. I'm always scared I'm going to see someone waiting in a room lurched and ready to jump out at me.
I swear lately I've been busier than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest.
As a therapist anti depressant medication is an interesting subject. It's very common for people to take the meds, get feeling better, think they don't need them, stop taking them, and then hit sudden depression and commit suicide. You have to stay on them if prescribed.
I remember several years ago my car broke down in a very redneck town. I just happen to have four country dudes roll up and offer to help me roll my car to a service station. Things were going well with them until they saw a Cure sticker on the back of my car with Robert Smith looking out and the words" let's go to bed." They didn't say too much to me after that. It was especially difficult as they were all at eye level with the sticker as they were pushing the car from behind.