Somebody was quoted as saying that gun buyback programs are like trying to empty the Pacific Ocean with a bucket. Yes, this is nuts, and stupid. Most of all, this is the showy crest of a wall of anti-intellectualism that threatens to down our previously mighty country.
People are very excited about gun buyback programs right now. Me, I never owned a gun. Although, some people have told me I should given the dangerous situations I too often turn up in. As I say this, I look down at a scar on the inner aspect of my left elbow. A scar I sustained when a drunk in a northern French emergency room attacked me with a piece of broken glass. It is, of course, paler and harder to find than when a young surgeon colleague came from home to close it with tiny little faerie-like stitches. No guns around, of course. I learned before that scar, early in my French training, that if you owned a gun — and especially if you didn’t feel very secure with it — it was likely to be turned about and used on you. Me. The owner. The “good guy.” Read more on The Cockeyed Logic of Gun Buybacks…
A beloved football coach – I might even say a living legend – finds his life destroyed after a luminous career. All because of alleged inaction – perhaps to shield a friend, perhaps to preserve the “old school” or for other reasons.
And the sad story of Joe Paterno is only one more chapter in how the victims who suffer are once again vilified, and how we wonder if it is even possible for justice to prevail when such tragedy is involved.
When I was in the year of training for psychotherapy, I felt fortunate to study under a knowledgeable PhD who ran the gamut from psychoanalysis to cognitive styles in his competencies.
The thing he told us was the most important thing to do during our psychotherapy training was for each of us to isolate the population with which we could not work. Read more on Penn State Sports Scandal Destroys Lives…
Sometimes my mother would act strangely.
I remember when she told me that she remembered when my tiny behind could fit entirely into her hand, and that for that reason she did not have to listen to anything I said. I did not follow the logic, but since I certainly could not remember when my behind was that small, she had me.
It seems that wherever I go, whatever clinical situation I have found myself in, my female colleagues on the staff eventually start talking about mothers and daughters.
The following statistic is not from valid research mind you – just from casual observation – but every mother wants to have a daughter just like her.This does not happen, as I patiently explained to my mother, because of the DNA getting all jumbled up through something called genetic recombination. I would probably have a daughter who was as charming as Great Aunt Gussie, the woman who had stolen the family inheritance and had not been known to be particularly polite in polite society either.
The fact that mothers and daughters are genetically different is only one reason moms just never get someone “just like” them. Mothers and daughters grow up in different eras. A woman of my mother’s era may feel that her professional options were limited — teacher or nurse, maybe, but these were generally some sort of “skill builders” until Mr. Right came along.
My mother told me that her mother wanted to do something vaguely medical, even had some kind of an interest in laboratory analysis. But she ended up being some kind of a religious philanthropist, starting Jewish institutions. Nice, but not hands-on caring for other people, if that is where your passion is.
There are other differences, in family and upbringing, that are too great to describe. Here is a superficial if not-otherwise bad article on this from our friends at Good Housekeeping and Web MD.
But wait, there’s more. Consider the 32-year-old woman with allegedly healthy five and seven year old children at home, who said she was wildly depressed because her mother did not visit, did not come around at all, and could not seem to have a good, happy relationship with her.
I asked her the obvious question. What kind of activities did she enjoy with her mother? I tried not to jump when I heard the response.
“Armed Robbery.” Read more on Family Bonding As Outlaws…
It seems to be important that this drug bust, which tied relatively well-to-do Columbia students to low-class drug pushers, is labeled as an “Ivy League” bust.
If it is “high class,” does this make it less bad to violate the law? Somehow I think of a woman I recently met, Sydney Biddle Barrows, the Mayflower Madam. I received her recent book on marketing as a gift, and whatever her past, she seems to be an astute businesswoman. In person she was exceedingly pleasant, and dressed a LOT more conservatively than would expect of a woman of her reputation. The idea is that people made a great deal of her past because she was a woman who made a profession of managing prostitutes, but did it with both business sense and panache. In America, where we often proudly say we are a classless society — but we aren’t. It seems to me that there are few places where we value “class” more than breaking the law.
Read more on Does Crime Pay For Classy Criminals?…