Update

It has been a while since my last blog. I've been expanding my business--providing mental health services to schools. I am now consulting to Marple Newtown School District as well as Elwyn, Inc. I did some grant writing for Interboro School District this summer. I've also been expanding private practice in Chester Springs. None of this serves as a legitimate excuse for not blogging. However, I have been writing articles on line for Ezinearticles.com. They don't pay for these articles, which I provide gratis, butthe "take" comes in the form of advertising I add to each submission They sell ads on my writing. I hope to stimulate some interest in my website and this blogsite as well as to promote my books and private practice. My first article is claimed to have had over a thousand hits and I've had eight articles published so far. They are all of a psychological nature. The jury is still out as to whether all of this is worth the effort. In any event, it has taken me away from blogging for a while. Type my name into Ezine's web page to see what I've been up to.

Genetics

I need no further evidence of the significance of genes in determining behavior. Witness my wife and her side of the family. Now, I love my wife dearly. but she has one flaw. She is an incurable telephonalolic--about four hours a day. There is little doubt that this is a genetically determined behavior, gender related. All the female members exhibit the behavior. Its most extreme manifestation is when they talk with each other, which is frequent. I have seen this pass through four generations of females. No males in the family exhibit the trait, although they are certainly carriers. They endure, complaining only poccasionally about the telephone bills. The behavior is resistant to extinction, pervasive as to geographic location, and of lifelong duration. No one has identified this gene as yet, only because no one has looked. There is also likely to be a brain area, close to where language expression resides in the left hemisphere (more generalized in females). I therefore challenge any neuroscientist or genetic types who stumble on thois blog to begin the task of identifying and eradicating this pernicious trait before it spreads further.

Charitable giving

I spent ten years as a fund raiser for a non-profit, although it was never a labor of love. So I am not completely naive about giving. Our own contributions are primarily earmarked for cancer rsearch since both my parents and my wife's favorite aunt succombed it the Big C. I dopn't respond to telephone solicitations and certaily not to unsolicited requests at my door. So it is surprising to me that I contributed to an African American lady who rang our doorbell to solicit a magazine subscription to a shelter for the homeless.

She herself was a resident of one, she said. Her husband shot her, she explained. She was earning points earn tuition to study criminal justice and become a police officer. The materials she produced were shopworn and suspect. The magazines offered did not seem relevant to homeless and abused people. Why would they benefit from Psychology Today? It was something about her manner, I suppose. She seemed genuine, sincere. I wrote the check to some magazine distributer and designated a local depressed area for the target of my gift. I chose Parent and Child magazine. There was a hefty surcharge that significantly increased the subscription price she originally mentioned. My charitable giving has turned to charitable misgiving. I hope she was what she presented herself to be. "I'll be back to see you next year," she called over her shoulder as she started for the next house.

Not picture perfect

"Shrink" and "Finding Jackson" are now out there but not burning down any bridges with sales. Last week I resurrected a story I first wrote for my grandchild Becca, then around age five. "Becca in Cyberland" describes the adventures of Becca, age five, who is pulled into her father's computer to Cyberland, has many adventures, and proves herself sufficiently worthy to be transformed into a Cyber princess. With apologies to Lewis Carrol, the story has its merits. I sumbitted it to PublishAmerica, which did "Finding Jackson." They accepted it. They are a traditional publisher and do not charge. I haven't done a stellar job in marketing my books--not my forte. I am ready to put the final touches on "Becca..." but I realize that the book, geared toward four to six year olds, needs pictures. PublishAmerica will do the cover but not internal pictures. Nor will they pay for them. The illustrators I found on the Web are top notch, but expensive. They mostly work for publshers and do their own writing. I e-mailed one who wanted $7,000 for my book. That's why they work mainly for publishers. I have contacted a retired artist through a friend who may be more reasonable. But as an author of books that have sold poorly I am not optimistic. I think I need a marketer.

Capturing the hill

Our house in a development in Chestersprings has three porches-front, side, and back. We can choose where we sit depending on the season and the position of the sun. In the winter we choose the warm front porch, facing east, in the morning and the rear porch in the late afternoon. In the summerwe choose the shady back porch in the morning and the front porch in the late afternoon. Regardless of the season we like the side porch best. It is cool even on the hottest days because it is shaded by a large tract of woods on a hill to the south of us.

One day in this past spring while we were having a drink in the late afternoon, my wife remarked about the hill fronting the wooded area. There are some large rocks at the bottom, she noted, that would look nice if there were flowers behind them. I took her words seriously and began uncovering two or three rocks which projected pointy prominences upward. As I dug I realized that , like an iceberg, the rocks were largely buried undergroup. I moved away years of earth and weeds covering them and planted some heather that I purchased at Lowes. They were striking with purple blooms and made a statement behind the rocks which could now better be described a boulders. I began exploring and found that there were not two or three but 25 hidden boulders spread out in a large semi-circle at the base of the hill. It required several weeks to uncover them all. Returning to Lowes I brought a dozen more heather and planted them and them a dozen lavender, also with purple flowers. The hill was beginning to look very good. I persuaded the gentleman who mows our pitiful quarter acre lot to also weed whack the hill. We had already appropriated the large area beneath the woods by erecting four bird feeders, attracting a wide variety of species, not only birds, but squirrels, chipmonks,rabbits, and occasionally even deer and foxes. The Development gardeners would no longer mow where we planted and bird fed so our mower took it over. I did not own the property but believing it is easier to apologize than ask permission I kept planting on what we now called Bunker Hill, Heather Hill, or simply Marvin" Hill.

Along the crest of the hill was a deep thicket or honeysuckle, barbed wild roses that never bloomed and various unattrtactive weeds. I, for a penny, in for a pound. I began to chop away at the unattractive mess, hoping to expose the contour of the crest.. As I pruned, at the expense of numerous thorn cuts and two tic bites, the hill was assuming a new personality. Behind the thicket were large oak tess that I knew existed because we could see their branches, but had never seen the trunks. I felt myself a sculptor who envisions a form hidden in a block of marble and chisels away the excess until the form is realized. I, too, would slice away the excess and create a living panorama. Slowly and carefull I cut vines and brush, dumping the waste deeper in the foliage and creating creating depth to my masterpiece.
We now had a three dimensional view into the darkened woods and could see the goldfinches, blue jays and cardinals well before they approached our feeders. Deer came onto the property at dusk. We learned to recognize the families of squirrels and chipmonks and their habitats. My work is now cut out for me. Eventually I will extend the manicured forrest edge along the entire length of my driveway. Neighbors stop by and comment on the project and thank me for improving the neighborhood. I have, indeed, captured the hill. We sit and sip our vodka tonics and i recall Robert Frost's "Stopping by woods on a snowy evening"-- The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to before I sleep.

MORRIE'S LAST CAPER

While SHRINK AND JACKSON sales seem to be limited to friends and relatives, my need to continue the adventures of Morrie Scwartz, psychologist, remains unquelled.
I have begun a short story, again involving my fictitious alter ego. Morrie, now comfortably retired is no longer seeing patients. Nor will he agree to reurn in any way to private practice. In this story Morrie becomes the victim of identity theft in a highly personal way. When the police decline his request that they assist in a scheme to catch the culprit, Morrie and his old friend Irv embark on the adventure themselves.

At present I seem to have painted myself in a corner with my tale. However, being that this is probably Morrie's last literary fling, and perhaps mine as well, my solution to Morrie's dilemma had better be good. No doubt the paint will dry and Morrie will again prevail. Stay tuned.

Therapy models

I've promised psychological blogs so I should wrtite one occasionally.

I was asked recently to present some tapes or videos dealing with the practice of psychotherpy to my school psychology colleages. I have several old tapes by Wolpe, Beck, Lazarus, Rogers and others dealing with the application of their own particular theoretical model. They are not bad tapes and it is likely that many psychologists, like me, used them at one time or another as models for their own efforts. On this occasion I chose to use a popular HBO progrsm, In Treatment. It is beginning its third year. The first year episodes are now available as DVDs.

My wife and I have become hooked on this series. The therapist, played by Irish actor Gabriel Byrne, is superb. Paul, the therapist, is psychoanalytically oriented therapist, as his his mentor whom he sees regularly. While this might not sit well with many cognitively and behaviorally oriented therapists, the series is real, highly empotional, and extremely well written and acted. Paul looks for determinants of his patients' problems in their parents and usually finds credible determining factors. His female patients tend to fall in love with him. He sometimes has problems with limit setting and frequently questions his own competence and the value of psychotherspy in general. He falls in love with a patient while going through his own divorce. In a recent episode he verbally attacks his therapist and mentor, accusing her of being uncaring and hiding behind her technique.

My audience, none of whom had ever seen the series, were enthralled and wanted more. One might argue that what I was presenting was artifical--merely acting, while my professional tapes were real and empirically based. Artificial or not the In Treatment episodes are extremly relevant and provide many areas for discussion. I sometimes question one or two of Paul's interventions but mostly find myself feeling envious of him. I think he is a better therapist than me and I rarely think that or say it. Furhtermore, I never really believed that the professional tapes are completely honest. The editors have been selective in what is presented. Futhermore, I find them devoid of feeling, (except for Rogers). They rarely deal with the therapist-patient relationship and its impact upon outcomes. I don't know if In Treatment is written by real live therapists but whoever writes it is highly sophisticated. The situations are extreme and a little contrived. (Two patients meet outside his office and wind up having an affair; he is threatened with lawsuit by the father of one of his patients who may have committed suicide; a cancer victim refuses to go for chemo). Nevertheless, the series is powerful should be required viewing for clinicians and those aspiring to do therapy. Kudos to HBO.