Papers and Stuff

Someplace in my attic....

~My scrapbooks from early childhood...photos of Elvis cut out of magazines..Hershey Bar wrapper from when my girlfriend, Barbara, and I won the spotlight dance at a 6th grade shindig....a lock of my grandmother’s hair at age 64...still light brown...a straw from my hospital stay after having my appendix removed...

~Collectable cards....Davy Crocket cards...Elvis cards....Beatles cards...baseball cards...

~ My bachelor’s and master’s degree diplomas...something you just don’t frame and hang after earning a doctorate...but both full of memories and pride...

~ Letters and greeting cards...birthdays and Christmas....girlfriends....even letters that Barbara and I exchanged after she moved to Maine (from D.C.) during our early

teens....

~I have this quiz from my undergraduate statistics class....we had one every day and on this one, I got a 6....that’s 6 out of 100....oh, I got an A in the class, but from that point on, my friend Randy called me “scholar”...just couldn’t believe it possible to get a 6 out of 100...I’ve wanted to frame it next to my doctoral diploma...it’s up there someplace...

~ My dinosaurs...little hard rubber things...I played with them endlessly...and when I reunited with Barbara several years ago, I gave her a tyrannosaurus...her favorite... that we used to play with together...

~Files and files...client records...tax returns...it’s the law, but I mean really!.....

~Cassette tapes, VHS tapes, video cassette recorder...you get the picture...

~Pool cues and pool balls...had this gorgeous pool table in Massachusetts...just wouldn’t fit in the Maine house...sigh...

~Boxes...hmm, maybe I’ll have to return this appliance some day and I’ll need the original box....can’t be too careful....

~Interesting, er....antique items...bought at auction...love those auctions with the smells of mold, dust, and coffee...”wow...this will be interesting to put...um..I’ll put

it....someplace...”

~ Camping gear...haven’t camped in over 10 years...dogs love camping...it could happen again...right?

~ A state of the art Teac reel-to-reel tape recorder...yep...it would play for hours...but then again, my ipod will play for days...

In my spare bedroom...

~ Photo albums....remember those? Childhood....grad school...old girlfriends....photos

of gorgeous children I knew and loved during my pre-school teacher years...they’re all

in their early 40’s now....oh man...dogs...tons of dog photos...someplace there is a photo my friend Mike and me standing next to jazz clarinetist Pete Fountain...at the

D.C. armory...I’m wearing some stupid plastic lei around my neck...how’d that

happen?

~ A Canon 35 mm SLR...huge, heavy 70-200 zoom lens...it takes film...remember film?

~ Guitars....and cases....each guitar carries more memories than I could possibly

count...or even remember!

~ A painting given to me by an elderly woman I’d worked with years ago...she later

passed away and I worked with her husband through his grief and adjustment...when told about her painting, he said, “well...she rarely gave those away, so if she gave you one, she must have really wanted you to have it.”

And so, I could ramble on about how much these things mean to me...and they do. I could examine my “hoarder” side, but I don’t think I qualify for the television show...it’s all too organized and accumulated over too many years...I could put it on Craig’s List, but who wants my grandmother’s hair?

Instead, I’m mostly wondering about what to do with it all? I have no children...who would keep and treasure my things or simply say, “now what do we do with all this shit?” I could say, “when I’m famous, people will sell these things on ebay.” Ummm...that’s not going to happen either.

And concluding, I think, that it’s time to purge. Time to rid myself of...me. It’s all just stuff now....my stuff, but still just stuff. I can’t take it with me...and wouldn’t want to. Oh, there are my dogs’ ashes and they’re going with me. All in one place. (If you can, find the Twilight Zone episode, “The Hunter”) But everything else has no purpose anymore. What else do you do with things kept for “later” when there might not be a “later”? Huh?

Going once...going twice...going.

Dear Santa....

As you may know, Santa, it has been many years since I've written. In no way should you take this leave of absence as an indication of my lack of belief in you or appreciation for your past generosities. I actually still have a number of the fine gifts you've brought over the years...like my first stuffed animal, Bobo, and my first Martin guitar at 7, when my stubby little fingers were just learning to play. Thank you again.

Before I give you a list of what Rusty, Nora, and I would like this year, I want to offer a brief, general request. I guess it might be considered a suggestion even. I was just thinking that, instead of loading down your sled with big ticket items like televisions, computers, or blow-up Justin Bieber dolls, you might have a more lasting impact on families and children if you could bring a few million jobs and a government that actually works. The one we have needs a change of batteries fairly often and even the new ones don't seem to help. And, while you're here, could you load up Jerry Sandusky and his sick brethren, take them back to the North Pole, and leave them out where they can freeze their pathetic weanies off or get eaten by polar bears.

For Rusty:

~ Night vision goggles. I tell him that squirrels go to bed at sundown. But he's not convinced. I guess he's thinking we can't be too safe....that longer nights just give them more time to plan! He has smallish ears, so take that into consideration for sizing.

~ You know those really long fingernails like the Wolverine has? Well, he'd like a pair...so it might be easier to dig his lairs underneath trees and bushes...as well as for burying his rawhide bones, only to eventually dig them up when they're nice and soft and covered with dirt.

~ Don't ask me why, but for some reason he wants a Rocky and Bullwinkle t-shirt. Oh yeah...and a Cubs hat.

~ He was watching Martha Stewart one day and thinks it could be fun to have one of those large pastry squirter things...like for filling cannoli or stuffed shells. I think it's for his empty marrow bones. Where we'll get the lard fillings, I have no idea.

~ Finally, he'd like a new pair of footie pajamas...his nails have worn through his Marmaduke pair.

For Nora:

~ I know it could be expensive, but she would like dental implants. Poor girl has lost most of her teeth due to distemper and she would like to again enjoy those harder treats as well as look nice for her boyfriend, Mr. Jones. I tell her she is beautiful as she is, but she's a bit self-conscious about her teeth.

~ She wants an Easy-Bake Oven....thinks it could be a blast to make her own cookies.

~ An in-ground pool....but only about 3 inches deep. She loves getting silly in puddles and is afraid of the plastic Spongebob pool I got her. No diving board is necessary.

~ Tennis balls...can't have enough tennis balls.

~ Anything that squeaks...

For me:

~ Sox in the World Series and the Patriots in the Super Bowl.

~ One of those memory erasers from Men in Black so I can go on television, wave the thing at everyone and make them forget the Kardashians, Bieber, Lohan, and all the other talentless celebrities that clutter our lives.

~ A turnover on The View....keep Whoopi, can the rest. Add Meredith Vieira an Rachel Maddow ...you can choose the last one from Uma Thurmen, Cherlize Theron, or Ashley Judd.

~ A really good night's sleep.

~ New jobs...out of the public spotlight...for Al Roker, Jay Leno, Rachel Ray...oh hell...the list is just way too long.

~ A best selling book so I can give up this other career...no offense to my clients, but I'm spent.

That's about it. I have many things. I am blessed with perfect, adorable dogs...and a few wonderful friends. I really only want lasting health and good fortune for them and for myself. I'm thinking, while these gifts could be asking a lot, they might take the weight off of your sled...and off of me...at least for a while.

Thank you, Santa

Rick

p.s....I was Richard for a long time so I hope you'll remember me.

Walter

Let me tell you about Walter...I was thinking about him today while out walking my dogs...

At least we'll call him Walter.

Walter came to me as a client some years ago. He was a corporate big shot...I mean, the kind that rides helicopters to meetings and has that growly, marine lieutenant-type laugh that scares people. He was definitely not the type of guy who would ever have considered therapy except that his wife had left him...somewhat suddenly, although he quickly suspected the church choir director was involved. He changed churches.

Over time, I had sessions with Walter and his grown kids, from whom he'd been estranged, ending in tearful resolutions and new connections. Walter learned to cry. We had a very cool, honest relationship. He was a hunter and I would often encourage him to shoot animals with a camera, not a rifle. We'd laugh...knowing he wouldn't change that little flaw. Okay, big flaw.

Walter was retired...forced to retire due to a major heart attack. He had a pacemaker...and, from across my coffee table, across the room, I could hear that thing ticking like a cheap watch. It was mildly eerie. He looked healthy and was fairly active. But there was that tick...tick...

At one point, Walter was looking for office space in Boston for a charitable organization he worked with. Well, I had a friend in Boston real estate and connected the two. My friend did manage to find him the perfect space he needed and all were happy. The reason I'm telling you about this was...this. This same friend and I once drove up to Maine to an auction for a lake front cottage. And there...at the auction...and staying at HIS cottage next door...was Walter. And don't you know, Walter said to my friend and me, "let's go have a beer!" And, before I could answer, my friend said, "Sure!" And so, we went to this little country store/bar/video rental type place you find in the Maine woods and sat there on stools...laughing, talking, and, yes, we had those beers. The only rub is that therapists don't customarily have beers with clients. So, as we talked...laughed...I had a sort-of-good time as I sat there uncomfortable with this inadvertent ethics violation!

Therapy continued however. At great urging, I got Walter to attend a divorce support group I'd often given lectures to. (That's poor grammar, but you can handle it...you know who you are) He became a regular at the group and met a fine, kind, lovely woman to boot! Walter was in love.

Some weeks later....that day...he came into my office...smiling. It was late in our conversation that he said, "You know? I am feeling at peace for the first time in a long time...maybe in my life." It was her...his new love, his resolved family relations, his cottage...he was happy.

Prior to our next biweekly appointment, I learned that Walter had died. Heart attack. Gone before he hit the floor, they said. You would not believe the long line outside the funeral home. So many friends from so many circles. A respected, loved man. And there, in the receiving line, was not his ex wife, but his kids standing with his new love. I hugged her and whispered, "Walter really loved you." When I finally reached him lying there in his handsome well-cut suit, in his handsome casket, I leaned towards him and said, "Damn it, Walter! You let it beat you!" It's the way he talked. It's the way we talked.

So, what's the point of all this...this story. On short notice, I can think of two things.

First of all...to hell with all that therapist/client boundary stuff. Oh, I'm not going to sleep with clients or play golf with any. I CAN say that, when I heard that Walter....my client of several years...had died, I was very happy I'd had that beer. Yep. Sometimes, in our work, we meet and, yes...even LIKE people. I always liked Walter...hunting and all.

The other point is just this folks....TICK TICK TICK! Don't wait! My God...Walter found his peace and then died. I'm so thankful I helped him get to that point. So was he. Wouldn't it have been great if he'd lived longer? Or his peace had come sooner? But it didn't.

So...here comes the corny part. Go. Love. Give. Take. Now. Tick, Tick, Tick. One never knows....