Sex Week

Alright yes, perhaps the title should be "Relationship Week" but why scare away readers by using the "R" word. Sex sells! I would also offer that the picture above will be the most inappropriate of the week, but I really liked the curves of the chair. Did you know that tongue in cheek makes it difficult to speak but has no effect whatsoever on using the keyboard.

I have had several posts on the subject of sex rumbling around in my brain and other organs for awhile now, as I mentioned last week I was finally prompted to get them all out by the writing of a friend who has found love online. OK, so she hasn't yet used the "L" word in public, but she has changed her facebook status to "in a relationship" - the one true sign of commitment in the 21st century.

While we are fencing with the "R" word, I would note that I have not made the standard remarks about only boyz being the ones afraid of it. Nay, one of my observations from my forays into the world of online dating is that the girlz are a bit more quiet about their big "R" fears but they seem to have a fair level of relational angst hidden beneath any come hither speech; they just don't flaunt it with zeal as do some of my fellow Y-chromosome creatures.

So, my preliminary online dating observations in bullet point presentation:

• when I use the word 'intelligent' and blatantly flash my Ph.D. I am trying to convey a message, so why do women who contact me based on my profile then find me too cerebral?

• age matters, take a look at any reunion photograph from the 50s, 60s, or 70s; ever wonder how those people could possibly be the same age? this goes for not just for external looks, but also spirit, energy and worldview; just because we are the same chronological age does not mean we see the world the same or interact with it alike.

• liberal and conservative do not mix in a couple, at least not in my world; opposites do not attract, if you are a republican we have zero possibilities, if you are a democrat - well maybe, but you can't be card carrying.

• you are not going to change me, but more importantly how have you gotten to our age and not figured this one out for yourself?

Now I know that so far these initial observations have a bit of a negative spin; I just needed to get some of the basic power points out of the way up front. The rest of the week will be reflections on the state of "R", "C" & even "L" in my world. In the final post of the week, I will disclose my new plan of action forged in the tepid fires of online coffee dates.

Medical Marijuana (5): The Patients

Today's report was prompted by an article which suggests that the typical medical marijuana patient is "white, educated and employed." Ignoring the insipient racism in that conclusion, I would say that my experience partially supports those findings. Although I found in integrated neighborhoods the clientele at the co-ops were also more mixed; the same was true of my initial physician visit in downtown Oakland, a very integrated city.

The "whiteness" of the users might have more to do with who has access to the entire medical system and also a lot less fear of "the man" in the form of DEA door-kickers. Educated makes sense. The willingness to do some personal research for those unfamiliar with the use of cannabis is a big step in trying medical marijuana. The employed label may only indicate the financial ability to cough up fifteen bucks for a gram of high quality weed.

What is more interesting in the aforementioned study is that patients tend to substitute medical marijuana for prescription medication and/or alcohol. In many ways a potentially safer alternative to NSAIDs, narcotics and booze. In my own case, it was the ineffectiveness of oxycodone that led me to try the pot path.

Next week, my first experimental anomaly.

PRODUCT REPORT: Hash w/ high CBD content

Last week I reported on the CBD measurement and how higher levels might well lower the pot buzz. To that end I purchased a gram of hash with a CBD of 9%, which is more than 4X higher than any other product I have found. Unfortunately, lowering the 'buzz-factor' of hash appears to be about as effective as lowering blue agave tequila from 90 proof to only 80. It still packs a wallop.

Previous posts in this series:

Medical Marijuana (4): Botanical Chemistry

Medical Marijuana (3): Human Experimentation

Medical Marijuana (2): The Dispensary

Medical Marijuana (1): An Inquiry

A Glitch in the Internet

You probably have noticed that the ads you see on the right hand side of many browser pages will change based on where you've been surfin'. Particularly if you are hitting a lot of retail sites doing some comparison shopping. Well last month some nano-byte got jumbled on the interwebs and for about a week I was flooded with advertising for:

Engagement rings
Honeymoon vacations
Martha Stewart wedding guides

and yes, these pictures come from a couple of those ads.

No I have no idea how, what, when, where or why not. I even checked my browser cache but I did not black out and visit Brides R Us or anything like that. What I found most curious was that over about ten days to two weeks, the ads transitioned to home furnishings and real estate directed at 'first time buyers.' I am anticipating a flood of solicitations from divorce lawyers about this time next year. I know, I know, way too cynical.

So let me offer a teaser for next week. A woman I know through a one-time coffee date, which actually was a walk along the Bay - anyway, this woman is a wonderful writer. She has written several blog pieces on her adventures in online dating and recently her success at the same. I have several times consider writing a response from the other side of the aisle and now with her relational vindication, I have decided the time is now. My response to her Annals of Online Dating begins next week, along with a few other offerings on the general theme of: Online Dating, Relationships, Sex, Life the World and Everything.

Back in the Spring

Back in April someone reminded me about the 'Falcon Cam' on the PG&E building in San Francisco. So for about three weeks I had my small side monitor open to the 'NestCam' and watched as the falcon chicks grew and both mom & dad brought them breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. I must say the avian population around a falcon nest really decreases when there are kids to be fed.

These cameras are part of the Santa Cruz Predatory Bird Research Group, just one of many such video arrangements to be found all around the world; on the internet of course. You might try one out next spring. It was interesting to watch the progress of the chicks from eggs to fledging. But I found I became much more interested in the people who were watching the falcons.

You see at some point you have questions. When will they fledge? Why do the cameras shift? What are they eating? So I joined the Falcon Forum and discovered rather quickly that there were some really dedicated conservationists involved. I got early notice of the day they were being banded and watched a really interesting inter-species reality show. I also was reminded that human beings can be addicted to nearly anything, including falcon babies. 

Then I remembered that you can gain a lot of knowledge hanging out with borderline fanatics. I went to Antarctica in 1980, somewhat before there was actual eco-tourism. My shipmates were either very old and somewhat jaded world travelers or birders. I discovered very quickly that making zodiac landings with the birders meant more information, more adventuresome hikers but lots of overly detailed conversation about he mating habits of plovers. It was a reasonable trade-off, besides the big warm hats filtered out a lot of the conversation.

Note to self - I need to scan that picture I have of me in the penguin colony for the blog.

To-Do List - Go through increasingly large pile of notes to self.

Medical Marijuana (4): Botanical Chemistry

I am going to guess that just about everyone knows the active ingredient in marijuana is THC (tetrahydrocannabinol). That's what gets you high. But like so many other plants, chemical compounds, prescription medications, herbal remedies and drugs -- that's not all that's going on chemically when we introduce marijuana into our system.

I have already written about the two sub-species of marijuana (indica and sativa) but there are other properties to be considered. The one I want to discuss today is CBD or cannabidiol. Often the strength of pot is measured by its THC percentage but that is only one of several cannabanoids that are present in most marijuana. CBD is one of those 'others' and has some remarkable qualities including reducing what some refer to as the social isolation or 'anti-social' qualities of prolonged marijuana use. 

CBD has also been shown to be a primary factor in treating nausea, anxiety and inflammation. Even more interesting is that as some growers hybridize for more CBD, they are discovering pot that provides various medical benefits while inhibiting the typical marijuana high.

High CBD extractions have also shown early promise in lowering the aggressiveness of breast cancer cells and limiting their invasiveness. Note to dispensaries, labeling that includes CBD testing results will draw customers.

As entrepreneurial growers are given more and more incentives to produce a wider range of products, the trend towards unique blends should provide higher and higher CBD potent strains, which may provide easily stoned patients like myself the ability to gain the medical benefits of marijuana without the associated intoxication.

PRODUCT REPORT: Suckers & Hard Candy

I will preface this report with the stipulation that I am not a big hard candy guy. In addition, it is very difficult to regulate your consumption when you are sucking on a marijuana lollipop. I suppose if you want to sit at your desk and get high with a piece of candy this would work, but as a delivery vehicle for a medically titrated dose, well these suck. Also, it amazes me with all the sweet sticky sugar base used in these treats, candy makers seem unable to make them taste like anything but a vaguely disguised garden compose heap. My advice, go with cookies, pies, cakes; they easily cover the bitter green flavor of the plant, particularly the chocolate based products.

That being said - the Lolle-zing suckers can and do deliver a large dose of THC (56 mg) per pop. They are publicly unobtrusive if that is an issue for you. However, despite the alleged flavors (I tried lemon and pomegranate) they taste like old, moldy grass.

Previous posts in this series:

Medical Marijuana (1): An Inquiry

Medical Marijuana (2): The Dispensary

Medical Marijuana (3): Human Experimentation

Two Characters & Several Decades

It has come to my attention that at least two of my friends feel there is a recent movie out (on cable) in which the lead character reminds them of me. Before I reveal which contemporary film has led them to that comparison, I want to tell a much older but similar story.

Back in the late 80s I was at a party with my 'L.A. family,' all the usual suspects were there. I discussion of favorite movies came up and I guess I mentioned The Big Chill, to which someone responded: "Well, of course you like that movie, William Hurt played you." I remember objecting to that comparison while the chorus of agreement grew on the other side. I countered with the age disparity and someone suggested I was probably more like the character of Nick when I was younger.

Sure I could vindicate myself, I picked up a nearby phone and called my best friend from the 70s. We hadn't spoken in over ten years (well before The Big Chill was released), I was sure Lee would save me. Valerie got on the extension to verify I did not lobby for a favorable result. The conversation went like this:

"Lee! It's Tim.

"Tim, wow it's been a long time."

"Hey Lee, I'll call tomorrow and we can catch up, but I have a herd of people here who are disparaging my character. I need to ask you a question."

"Go for it, I'll save you buddy."

"OK, I assume you've seen The Big Chill."

"Oh, you mean the film where William Hurt played you..."

OK, let me admit it again as I did that day long ago. (Apparently) I had some similarities to the character of Nick in The Big Chill as played by William Hurt. By the way he followed up that role with his Academy Award winning portrayal of Luis Molina in Kiss of the Spider Woman.

Now to the current film. Also apparently, I seem to share some lifestyle characteristics with the George Clooney character in Up In The Air. I saw the film again last night, I think I have distilled the similarities to this one scene. The Clooney character is discussing love and relationships or the lack thereof with his female protege. She is pro-love naturally and he not so much. The scene finishes with this dialog.

"Do you know that moment when you look into somebody's eyes and you can feel them staring into your soul and the whole world goes quiet?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I don't."


I think this time I shall not argue with the cinematic homology.

Medical Marijuana (3): Human Experimentation

This really is human experimentation. The human being would be me and the experimentation being necessary because the self-serving medical establishment coupled with reactionary social policies have prevented responsible investigation into the medical uses of cannabis. But I did say earlier that I was going to avoid the politics of pot, at least until later; so let's get back to experimentation.

Each morning my baseline medical question is:

"How am I feeling today?"

The start of the day's data collection has many variables to be considered:

-levels of pain, stiffness, inflammation, range of motion;

-what medications, if any, do I plan to use?

-what exercise do I undertake both directly and indirectly aimed at my aching back?

-what exercise did I do yesterday?

-how was the night's sleep?

Then I need to observe how the day goes and over time hopefully figure out why. Prior knowledge informs me that how I feel in the evening is not always dependent on the above variables or how I felt upon arising. Sometimes x = y and other times not so much. All of which goes to say that this is tricky. And with the medical marijuana even more so because the effects are not consistent. 

Let me illustrate with my first product review.

PRODUCT REPORT: Sweet Relief Hot Cocoa

A professionally packaged powdered product consisting of: Pure Cane Sugar, Dry Whole Milk, Dry Nonfat Milk, Ground Chocolate, Unsweetened Cocoa, Mini Marshmellows, Salt, Cannabis Extract (each package contains the equivalent of 1/2g-2/3g dried cannabis flowers). The package instructions state one serving but does not suggest dosage. Powder can be mixed with hot water, milk or coffee. Like all instant cocoa mixes, it's better with milk than water.

My first experiment was to drink a 1/8 serving on an empty stomach. As I have previously disclosed, I am a lightweight when it comes to the effects of cannabis. So I start slow and increase the dosage as I go along. A one-eighth dose did not cause any of the effects associated with being high but I also felt no discernible pain relief. At noon I took another 1/8 and noticed some pain relief (or it was just a good day and around midday my back had loosened up). A final 1/4 dose around 6 pm with some clear pain relief.

Two days later I took the entire remaining 1/2 dose from the first packet; some mild pain alleviation over six hours. No marijuana buzz noticed. End of first packet/full dose of Sweet Relief, notice I had no "high" effects at all.

The second does of Sweet Relief, was divided in a 1/2 dose on day one; and 1/4 on days two and three. In days one and three, I got a pot high; on day three (1/4 dose) it was what I consider too much for normal functioning. There was a good deal of pain relief with the 1/2 dose but none on the following two days. However, days two and three were very stiff and sore days on awakening.

So you see the problems with good data collection. Plus I have now tried this one product in combination with both smoked product and a topical spray. So I really have some combination reports to write up. Yes, this is indeed going to be tricky.

Previous articles in this series:
Medical Marijuana (1): An Inquiry
Medical Marijuana (2): The Dispensary

Reflecting Your Life

Twenty plus years ago I made a series of continuing education tapes for real estate license renewal in California. I got studio time only after the "big names" in real estate got their shot. The problem was simply that none of them had ever done live to video before and they sucked at it. The studio tech staff went crazy dealing with the prima donnas and incompetent speakers. Then they decided to give others a shot. I was one of the "others."

I brought coffee and pot for the crew and told them just to turn on the cameras, I would start talking and we would put in all the graphics and low-lines in post-production. In other words, we would shoot the tapes they way they were meant to be shot.

After my first day of shooting I took 150 raw minutes of tape home to watch over the weekend and dream up appropriate visuals to edit into the final product. You see unlike those "real estate professionals" I had actually taught before; so I knew that all the notes in the world only meant confusion on the screen. My system was to just talk for 50 minutes (end of tape); then talk for another 50 minutes and repeat. Then I would watch the footage to see what I said and write an outline to fit what was on the screen. Seemed like a good plan and it worked but there is one more part of the story I wanted to tell today.

The next day I popped the first tape into the VHS player and sat down with a pad of paper. A couple of minutes into the lecture I thought: "Now that's a really good point, I should write that down, so I don't forget it." About half way through my note taking I stopped, looked up at the screen and realized I was taking notes on myself. I had impressed me! Talk about a mutual admiration society.

The other story comes from the writing of Check Raising the Devil. Our process was to get all of the interviews and research done on a chapter, then to rough draft it and then to read it out loud to Mike to get his comments and corrections. I have mentioned before that some of the best scenes in the book came from Mike adding some juicy tidbits during this reading of the drafts.

This one time, Mike had wanted his manager and another person to sit in on a reading to get their take on how the project was coming along. My co-author Amy was in town for this session, it was really a litmus test of whether or not we had captured Mike's authentic voice. This chapter was about a particularly dark and difficult time in Mike's life, it had taken several interviews sessions and a few different approaches to get all the painful details out of him.

I was reading the pages out loud and about mid chapter I began to feel the gravity of what we were disclosing. I paused and glanced over at Amy, I could see on her face she was feeling it as well. She nodded towards Mike as if directing my attention. I looked at him and saw he was in tears, not the only tears in the room as it turned out.

Imagine the darkest time of your life, then imagine having those scenes, those dark times you lived through, having them read to you with professional setting, timing, scene structure and dialogue. Imagine having your life reflected back to you in word, deed, voice or videotape. I can tell you it's a surreal and profound experience no matter which side of the screen you occupy.

Medical Marijuana (2): The Dispensary

Non-Californian residents might be surprised how many little towns and crossroads here in the Golden State now support a medical marijuana dispensary. Being that I live in the great San Francisco Bay area, I have many choices of which facility to use. So naturally, being a researcher, I needed to survey the possibilities. Thus far I have visited eight dispensaries in Berkeley, Oakland and San Francisco. They range from the back of a coffee shop to a a highly professional, one-on-one exclusive operation with very knowledgeable sales staff.

When I say 'back of the coffee shop' I mean walking past the big steel and copper steamer and the cases of pastries to a back room which could only have been a store room before its conversion and speaking to the owner/operator/clerk through a double pained glass shield; he in the storeroom section and me in the 5'x10' anteroom. 

At the other end of the spectrum is the wonderful Vapor Room in the Lower Haight district of San Francisco. A few of the dispensaries have a cabaret licenses, which means they can allow customers to light up on the premises. After purchasing some product there, we sat down and lite up a bowl of a particular strain we had been searching for. The three of us on that day's excursion shared the product and I collected notes for my experiment from three rather than just myself. 

When we emerged from the Vapor Room, one of my companions said: "Wouldn't it be great if adults could do exactly what we just did? No fear, no hassles."

My response was: "We just did."

While I intend to check out several more dispensaries over the course of this experiment, I will say now that they are going to need to go a long way to top the Harborside Health Center in Oakland. A true co-op, they prefer to obtain their product from patient-members. They offer free classes and services including yoga, reiki, chiropractic and more. They also do more analysis of their product than is required by state statutes. More on the details of that in-depth analysis in my next post.

My current available options (personal stash) now include: four varieties for smoking, one beverage, a two-part tincture/cream topical product, a lollipop (lollipot?), several cookies and some hybrid hash. Starting next week, I will begin my clinical reports, observations and product reviews.

Brazilian Skunk

Art & Literature Through Our Ages

A truly great book should be read in youth, again in maturity and once more in old age, as a fine building should be seen by morning light, at noon and by moonlight.  --Robertson Davies

I'm going to tell a little story about art and then I want to ask you a question about books. Both of which flow from the idea expressed in the quote above. Simply put; we see, feel, sense, appreciate art and literature differently at the various stages of our life. We bring different experiences to the works and take away quite different lessons and visions.

In 1968 I was studying in Germany. I spent Easter weekend in Paris with some fellow American students. Late on Sunday afternoon we were to catch our train back to Muenster but I just had to see one more museum. The treasure of impressionist art, now residing in Musee d'Orsay, was in a different space back then and was my last stop in Paris. Fortunately, I took a friend with me because in the final room I visited were five of Monet's Cathedral Rouen paintings. He painted more than thirty of these works done at different times of day and year to catch the cathedral in different lights.

I was transfixed. To get me to leave, it took Steve actually stepping between me and the paintings, literally blocking my view and then moving me out of the room with his hands on my shoulders. We not only would have missed our train, I might still be standing there.

Some art is just that powerful. 


So to my question: What books have you or will you read in your youth, maturity and old age. I myself am not a big re-reader of books and have often times regretted taking up an old favorite that did not age well (or perhaps it is I who was showing the signs of age) but in any case. Which books do you return to?

My own list:

Lord of the Rings (3 times, every 12 years)

Catch-22 (3 times, but long ago)
Red Mars, Green Mars, Blue Mars (2.5 times, reading now)

Burmese Supernaturalism (twice)

The Heart Sutra (five or more, but it's short and available in several translations)


You? The comment section is open.

Medical Marijuana (1): An Inquiry

This begins a series of posts of an as yet unknown length and breadth. I begin by saying that I have a new medical marijuana card. Under California law a M.D. can prescribe marijuana for a variety of conditions. I have the card for my back pain. Now whether it is going to actually work or not will be topic number one of this series. 

I'm not sure if I am going to deal with the politics of pot; maybe a bit later in the series. For now my intention is to walk you through my medical marijuana process/experience. I am engaging in empirical experimentation to discover if I can find a delivery vehicle for the THC in marijuana that will efficaciously dull the lumbar pain I experience. My secondary goal is not to be high all of the time. You see the prescription narcotics I have for my back pain do not get me high at all, at least not anymore; but they also do not control the discomfort. Hence the turn to THC for a possible solution.

First complication - I'm easy. Always have been. Back in the day I was an easy stone. It doesn't take much to get me buzzed. So the dilemma is getting the THC into my system with minimal euphoria. Can you actually believe having a goal of less euphoria. What has this universe come to?

For the uninitiated here are two different subspecies of Cannabis Sativa, they are sativa (cannabis sativa sativa) and indica (cannabis sativa indica). Most of the medical marijuana dispensaries are very precise in their labeling (it's the law). Unfortunately, the distinctions are not perfect for my purposes.

Here is a typical summary of the effects of each subspecies.

Sativa is often characterized as uplifting and energetic. The effects of a sativa marijuana are mostly cerebral. They give a feeling of optimism and well-being, as well as providing a good measure of pain relief for certain symptoms. A few pure sativas are also very high in THC content. They are known to have a quite spacey, or hallucinogenic, effect. Sativas are a good choice for daytime smoking. 

Indica is most often described as a pleasant body buzz. Indicas are great for relaxation, stress relief, and for an overall sense of calm and serenity. Marijuana indicas are also very effective for overall body pain relief, and often used in the treatment of insomnia. They are the late-evening choice of many smokers as an all-night sleep aid. A few pure indica strains are very potent in THC, and will cause the "couchlock" effect, enabling the smoker to simply sit still and enjoy the experience of the smoke.

As you can see, both are effective for some types of pain relief. And, but, also each can get you really stoned; a drawback from my point of view.

Next issue, there are various methods of delivery. Obviously you can smoke the weed, all of the dispensaries sell marijuana buds in a wide range of varieties, both sativa and indica; as well as hybrids of both. Edibles are also available in an ever increasing variety: cookies, candies, butters, spreads, crackers, drinks; the list goes on. All of these have various mixes of the marijuana plant and the two subspecies. There are also tinctures, creams, salves, ointments, unguents and balms.

Thus far I have obtained some smoking material, several baked goods including one (Bud-O-Scotch cookie) that came highly recommended by another back pain sufferer. I also have a hot cocoa mix to please my chocolate addiction and this week I am going to pick up a tincture that comes very highly recommended by a long time pain patient.

I can report that my preliminary pilot study served to remind me that I really have to be careful with dosage. I was given two lemon cookies by the first dispensary I visited as a welcome gift. The packaging said "1+ dose" and contained two Lemonade Soft cookies. I ate 1/3 of one cookie and was semi-dysfunctional for several hours.

Today begins Phase One of my experiment with clinical notes before and after dosing as well as reports while using the medication. Notes and commentary will appear here on a regular basis, for now once a week on Fridays.

Just Another Day

Today's story starts at the Oaks card club but this is not a poker story. The card room is just the setting for part one of my tale. The Oaks has an elevated rail like many card rooms. For the non-players that simply means the area around the poker tables is separated from the common area by some kind of rail or railing. In this case there is a very large wooden ballister about four feet high with heavy thick wood posts appropriately made of oak. And the common area is two steps above the playing area, so those waiting to play can watch the games quite easily from above the action but behind the rail.

Yesterday I happened to be seated at one of the outer tables facing the rail, so I could see the six or seven spectators up there. At some point I looked up and an elderly oriental gentleman was at the rail. He was old, not ancient; dressed in a hooded sweat shirt with a well worn but not frayed leather jacket as an outer garment. He was wearing a wool knit hat, you know the one size fits all winter hat, he also had on big black glasses with the side bows worn on the outside of the wool cap. So he looked just a bit odd. When I looked up a second time he was vigorously wiping down the top of the wooden rail with a paper towel. He was very diligent about his cleaning chore, once done he discarded the towel in a nearby trash bin and then began a slow inspection of the now sparkling clean two foot wide section of the top rail. He then stepped up to the rail without touching it, watched one hand of play at our table and walked away.

An hour later, I happened to look across the room to see the same gentleman cleaning a section of the rail on the far side of the card room. I kept an eye on him, when he finished his task, he again watched one hand at the nearest table and departed. I have nothing more to say about this.

On the way home, I stopped into Berkeley Bowl, a local favorite, for some groceries. Near the checkout stand  was a large five shelf display of package nuts, candies and assorted treats. While I waited in the queue, two offerings caught my attention: Organic Gummy Bears, which seems like an oxymoron. The second item was candied fennel seeds. I have nothing more to say about this either.
--
that is actually not a lime on the cat's head but a carved pomelo; some kind of chinese tradition; attribution for the picture is lost in the shadows of the internet

A Nearby Earthquake

A small earthquake occurred in Berkeley yesterday, according to the U.S. Geological Survey. The 2.0-magnitude quake happened at 10:37 a.m. and was centered near Panoramic Way, just southeast of Memorial Stadium on the University of California at Berkeley campus.

I can verify that report. The epicenter was only a mile away and I am up on the 8th floor. It was nowhere near the biggest jolt I have experienced; it wasn't even as moving as the one last month on the other side of the Bay. And nothing like a couple of big temblors in the middle of the night when I lived in L.A. in the early 80s.

I missed the Loma Prieta earthquake here in the Bay Area in 1989, I was living in L.A. at the time. I also missed the Northridge quake in L.A. in 1994, I was living in San Francisco then. Apparently the earth does not move when I am around, at least not big time moves.

Yes, over 400 earthquakes in California in the past week.

Why I Blog: For My New Friends

I write this blog because I want my internal ponderings of so many years to be out in the world not just swirling around in my head. I hope at times I assist others on their journey, at times perhaps make you smile and either sense relief from my rantings or motivate you to rant back at me. The pictures I include are the real pleasure of my blogging; I enjoy both finding them and sharing with you.

Recently there has been a big jump in the number of internet friends who visit this blog for the first time. Partly this comes from several online chat rooms I have joined for "professional networking" purposes. I also have begun using the net for some other leisure activities and that means many of my new friends see the facebook promos I put up whenever a blog post goes live. 

Not all of these new friends know that I am a fairly active blogger, so I thought it might be a good idea to introduce this blog to new acquaintances and perhaps to clarify to olde friends exactly why it is that I write this blog.

I hope you enjoy what leaks out from my head, my heart and my soul into this blog, if not; please block my facebook announcements, I know I am not everyone's flavor of the month.

Here is some of what you might want to know about me before investing your time reading this blog:

-I am a writer and I often use the blog to test out ideas for articles, stories, even books;

-I have a wide range of interests; some might even say perhaps a bit too wide;

-I might be considered politically liberal but I often seem too annoy my lefty friends with what I write here; I have lots of olde and new readers from all walks of life spread around the world;

-I do have an advanced degree in psychology and I do sometimes write with big words; on the other hand I like to write on a wide range of topics, in particular my Saturday posts tend to annoy my old academic friends;

-when something interests me, I will often chase it around the internet for several hours or days and report back in a blog post;

-while my political posts are heavily United States oriented, the rest of my material is not, at least I hope it isn't;

-I often tell stories about things that happened to me yesterday or thirty years ago; these stories usually have a point to them, but I often forget to mention what it is;

-There have been over 500 posts since I began in 2007. Should you want to know more, you can find a blogger's list (100 things about me) here.


If you do drop by, I invite you to use the comments section on anything that you like, hate, don't understand, really like or completely detest. I enjoy the feedback or blowback as the case may be.

Most of all - thanks for reading. Writing is such a solitary act, it really helps to know someone is listening.

The Beauty of Crying

Crying is a natural emotional response to certain feelings, usually sadness and hurt. But then people also cry under other circumstances and occasions, for instance, people cry in response to something of beauty. Stephen Sideroff

The place was the Los Angeles County Museum, the time was the fall of 1990. The exhibit was The Masters of Impressionism and Post-Impressionism: The Annenberg Collection. Jimmy, Audrey and I entered together but soon drifted in different directions. Nearly half an hour later I noticed Audrey at the far end of a small display hall, I was at the other end, inevitably we would meet near the group at the center of the room. As we got closer the group dispersed leaving Jimmy standing alone in front of a shimmering Monet. Reaching him at the same time, we noticed his tears. We embraced him, Audrey at his waist, I around his shoulders. "There's a word beyond beauty," he said.

Some time later Jimmy and I met in front of one of the early impressionistic works and were marveling at the techniques that were simply invented by those artists. We walked together into the next room and found Audrey standing alone in front of a huge Renoir. Tears streamed down her cheeks, followed by another embrace.

Late in the day, I was standing in front of a very pointillistic work by Camille Pissarro. I was transfixed by the movement created on flat surface and the shifting of light with just a infinitesimal movement from me. I remember the scene so clearly, the picture was on a short wall section next to the opening to the next gallery. At some point I looked just slightly to the right through that opening to see Jimmy and Audrey coming towards me. I had to blink the tears from my eyes to see their smiles.

Upon the Occasion of Finding Something

Why is something always in the last place you look?

I have (had) been looking for an item for over a month. About ten minutes ago I found it! I reached into a small travel bag which should have contained only paraphenalia of a certain genre, which is precisely why I had not inspected that container in detail before. I stuck in my hand way down to the bottom and pulled out my passport. Really? Thirty days of randomly focused searching and that's where it was? 

You see today I had become semi-desperate. I missed an appointment at the DMV last month because I couldn't locate all the necessary documents to prove that I was me. I need the California Seniors ID card for another endeavor. I don't have an original social security card, neither have I a birth certificate nor a live birth document. Clearly I shall never be president.

But wait you say - don't you have a "safe place" for such documents? Well of course I do! Unfortunately, no one put the passport there. When I searched the "important document" box this morning (for the third time) the passport still wasn't there. Imagine that. Apparently three times is not a charm.

Last night I emptied the final two boxes I had hauled down from the Sebastopol storage locker, you remember Sebastopol, I live there in my friend's hut back in the early months of 2009. Twas then I began my undomiciled period and therefore rented a small closet to dump my stuff in. Those few boxes were my best and last hope for finding the passport.

I was wrong. The elusive document was here all along. The logic behind placing it in that bag escapes me, just a Duh! moment I guess. During the search I did find my 1981 passport (Antarctica) and my 1996 passport (Bali); no they were not in the same place. Also found drivers licenses expiring in 1979 (Pinckney, MI.), in 1992 (Hermosa Beach); in 2005 (San Francisco); in 2006 (Ann Arbor) and a picture of Amy & me with a lion cub at the MGM (circa 2008).

So passport found. Two boxes of sorted & resorted stuff to be discarded or recycled and one more blog post about nothing in particular. Now where did I put that grenade pin?

Upon Not Having an Accent

I don't have an accent, which is unusual because common thinking is that everyone has an accent. Linguists differ on just who does and does not have an accent but their estimates are all very high (96%+) on just how many of us do have one. I do not. I learned this from someone who would know.

In 1968 I was a student in Germany. My professor there was a wonderful gentleman named Guenther Spaltmann. He was a native german, an accomplished artist and an truly gifted linguist. He had taught himself over a dozen languages; he was an interpreter at the peace negotiations after World War II, where each speech had to be translated live into English, German, French, Russian and Italian.

On our first day of german language class, Herr Doktor had us each introduce ourselves in german. 

"Guten Morgen, Ich bin Tim Lavalli."

Dr. Spaltmann would then tell us where we were born or at least where we lived during our language acquisition years. When I spoke, he said: "You were probably raised west of Detroit but not in a close-in suburb or in eastern Iowa just over the Illinois state line." Apparently those are the two areas of the U.S. that have a complete absence of accent. What was called flat accent. 

One might think this is a good quality for public speaking or commercial voice work, but in fact the absence of accent makes one's voice a bit monotonous (as in monotone). You need some inflection and rhythm. When I began teaching in L.A. in the 70s, I added a kind of a cadence to my speech pattern to shake off the monotone. I never really mastered an accent or a dialect but the irregular up and down changes in my voice kept the class awake, most of the time.

For an overwhelmingly cool map of dialects in the US 

with clickable pronunciation guides - look here.

Upon Being Trained by a Cat

I apologize if this story is a repeat. There comes a point, apparently somewhere around five hundred blog posts, where you just can't remember all the tales you've told. I don't think I have written this one up before but if I have - well enjoy again.

This was back in the early 70s, I was sharing my place in Michigan with a couple of roommates, two dogs and three cats. My favorite was Sam, a big black cat who slept with me every night.

On one particular night I was unable to locate the land of dreams. I was awake and apparently I was going to stay awake. Sam, on the other hand, settled down by my left hand got a good dose of ear rubs and was sound asleep in minutes. I laid there for an hour, then two... somewhere in the middle of the night I was drifting a bit, not asleep yet. Sam woke up, stood up, stretched then walked across my chest and laid back down with his head in my right hand and I reflexively started petting him.

At that moment I realized he did this every night, maybe more than once. He had me trained, the paw impressions on my chest made my sleeping conscious aware of him without waking me up and when he put his head in my hand I would subconsciously scratch him until he fell back to sleep.

Trained by a cat while I was asleep. And they say dogs are smart.

Walgreen Story

On the way into the pharmacy the other day I overheard a snippet of conversation between (actor #1) the gentleman with the red bucket, collecting for I know not what charity and (actor #2) the somewhat loud talking lady on crutches. As I passed them I observed the lady was missing one leg just below the knee; the conversation went like this:

"My son gets out of prison next week."

"Parole or release."

"Oh definitely parole to a halfway house in Oakland."

"How many years he do?"

"They gave him twenty but let him out in twelve, he should never have done a day."

"What for?"

"He got the man who did this to me." She pointed at her missing leg.

When I came out of the store, the lady was gone but as I passed the man he spoke to me:

"You heard the story bout her son."

"I did."

"Ain't true."

I stopped, knowing this would be worth the time.

"I knew her back when see lost that leg from too many infections."

"Needles?"

"Yup, and she ain't got no son either. Leastwise not one that gettin' out of prison; her only child died from the same crap that took her leg."

"Sad story."

"Well nobody makes you put that poison in your body."

"No I guess not."

I dropped five bucks in his red bucket for the story and headed to my car with my physician prescribed narcotics in the clean, white pharmacy bag with the tax receipt attached.

--

Art: Decision Time by americanpsycho

Knowledge & Ignorance

"What did he know and when did he know it."

For those who may have forgotten or who are too young to remember; that question was bantered about during the Nixon/Watergate fiasco. The question was - did Tricky Dick know about the break-in; if he knew, when did he know. The same question was asked about the subsequent cover-up.

"Sometimes it's better not to know."

Now there's an adage that drives pragmatists crazy, until they are themselves in a morally ambiguous situation where it's ... well, better not to know. I think plausible deniability begins with this concept.

So when is it better to know and when not? Today's story is one of my own, a real event that happened to me over twenty years ago. I have written once before about the death of my best friend, this story unfolds three or four weeks after his death. He died of complications from AIDS, during the last year I went to Tom's various appointments with him. Sometimes I took notes, other times I asked the medical questions that weren't being asked; I kept track of things.

This was 1989, there was no internet to provide everyone with reams of information but we were in L.A. so there were resources. At some point Tom started getting a monthly AIDS update newsletter, he would read it and then pass it on to me. At some point in the final months he lost interest and the newsletters went unopened. 

Several months after his death I was cleaning out his home office and came across the newsletters including the last three or four still unopened. I was going to donate them to a local information and support program but for some reason I decided to open the last few. On the back page of one was an article titled: Progression of Disease for those with Pneumocystis Pneumonia and T-Cells under Fifty. Exactly Tom's condition so I read the article. 

I can remember sitting there in amazement as the article mirrored his last six months almost precisely. What drugs would be prescribed. What side effects to expect. What opportunistic other disease attacks to watch for. It was a retrospective telling of the end of his life. I even said out loud: "Well now you tell me." Yet I wonder...

A decade later while my mother was failing, friends and family would ask about her prognosis. What to do about estate planning, finances, bring the grandkids to see her and when? I always had the same 'lighten the mood' answer - "I could answer that question if someone could just tell me how long this play runs." Tell me when this will be over and I'll tell you how to make those type of plans.

But, of course, this is not what life or death is about. That's not how it works. But 20 years ago, if I had opened that newsletter; I would have know. How might those final weeks have been different. What might we have done or not done, if we had known. For me, not much would have changed; but there were others who delayed or denied - perhaps I could have given them better advice but who would have believed that I had a day planner for the end of days.