mermaidcamp
Keeping current in wellness, in and out of the water
You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
You can scroll the shelf using ← and → keys
If Mr. McMurphy doesn’t want to take his medication orally, I’m sure we can arrange that he can have it some other way. But I don’t think that he would like it.-Nurse Ratched
The shadow America does not want to face is our mental health system. Mental health treatment has been a barbaric system of emergency drug administration with no hope for cure. My parents could afford the best available when they needed help in their last years. The problem was finding any ethical and effective treatment for them. Everyone was ready to charge big bucks, but nobody had any real therapy (or even care) for the patient. They had unlimited access to all drugs, but no access to careful diagnosis or medical ethics. When I volunteered for the VA my Vet was long-term suicidal, and there was no available help for him either. I am sure there are some quality programs somewhere, but before going out and spending twice as much money giving people twice as many drugs, why not evaluate the efficacy of the treatments used now? I am going out on a limb and say our neighborhood system of mental health treatment is damaging to all concerned. Random pharmaceutical drug use is not healthy, mentally or physically.
In my neighborhood, here in central Tucson, where you can virtually buy drugs in the middle of the street and there is probably a weapons concierge who will bring a selection of guns to your house for purchase, a 6-year-old was found with a loaded gun in has backpack at school. His dad was arrested for an old felony charge so the kid who said he did not know how the gun got into his backpack is now probably a foster kid while his father serves time. This is the reality for the youth here, and they may or may not know how the gun got there, but they know it will not be the last gun they will see. This deep, sociological, complex problem will be resolved by government programs with an arsenal of pills. Is that, in any way, believable?
We also have a very large mental health center available to the public and funded by Medicare. It is close to a public bus stop with a convenience store on the corner. People from all over the city can come, buy enough alcohol to be over the limit, and be admitted for the night to the mental health clinic. If they are not at the limit, they simply walk back to the store and buy another pint of liquor. They will be given prescription drugs as a result of the entry to the clinic which they can sell right there in my neighborhood. The clinic is supposed to make sure that the patients leave the area, but of course there is no way to enforce that rule. So the patients are released to repeat the cycle. Spending twice as much money on this will create at least twice the insanity and grow creepy petty crime around here. It is a risk to continue to pretend we are treating mental illness or Vet suicide. Money spent on this denial while asking for more funding is running from the reality that systems profit from status quo, and not from change. We need fundamental change, comprehensive. Stopping the madness will involve stopping the flow of drugs as a substitute for therapy. This is a war on drugs worth fighting and well within our power.
My 11th Great grandfather was so totally kicked out of England:
JOHN BOURCHIER, so named after his father, “he married MARIE L. daughter of PHlLIP VAN EGMONDE, of that city, and acquired with her a large fortune, principally in money. With this he was enabled to purchase property in Essex, adjoining the lands which he hoped soon to recover as his lawful patrimony. Amongst the estates thus bought were Bourchier and Little Fordham Manors, both of which had in former times belonged to his ancestors. But his return to England was resisted by those who were deeply interested in keeping at a distance so formidable a claimant to many of their broad acres. Strenuous and energetic were the efforts JOHN BOURCHIER SEARS made to remove the obstacles which intervened to keep him in exile; but all to no purpose. His opponents were inexorably hostile, and even threatened him with a prosecution, as a participator in the gunpowder plot, if he ventured to set foot in England. The attainder, it must be remembered, which hung over his grandfather, had never been removed, and still impended over the family at the time of his death in 1629.”
He left two sons and two daughter, RICHARD, JOHN, MARIE, and JANE, the three latter settled in Kent; the eldest son
“worn out by his parents’ want of success to recover their English possessions, determined at his father’s death to quit England for ever. He accordingly took passage, with a party of Puritans, for New England in America, and landed at Plymouth in Massachusetts on the 8th of May, 1630. Here he became the founder of a family which has attained wealth and honours in the New World, and died in 1676, leaving behind him three sons, KNYVET, PAUL, and SYLAS. “In the year 1851, a descendant of this family, the Honourable DAVID SEARS, of Boston, visited Colchester in company with a friend, Mr. H. G. SOMERBY, of London, and inspected with much interest the monuments in St. Peter’s Church. With a view to perpetuate the recollection of the ties that attached his family to the town of Colchester, Mr. SEARS caused a brass tablet to be engraved, and obtained the permission of the late Vicar (the Rev. S. CARR), for its erection on the North wall of the Church.”
This brass is divided into three columns, with the copies of the memorials on either side. The central column is headed by a coat of arms bearing the mottoes “EXALTAT HUMILES” and “HONOR ET FIDES”. Beneath is repeated the motto “Exaltat humiles” and the following:
Worth is better than wealth, Goodness better than nobility, Excellence better than distinction. To their Pilgrim Fathers, a grateful posterity. The outer columns transcribe the following memorials: Sacred to the Memory of Richard Sears, son of John Bouchier Sears and Marie L. Van Egmont in lineal descent from Richard Sears of Colchester and Ann Bouchier Knyvet, England. he landed at Plymouth in 1630, Married Dorothy Thacher and died in Yarmouth in 1676. Sacred to the Memory of Knyvet Sears eldest son of Richard Sears of Yarmouth, born in 1635, married Elizabeth Dymoke and died in England in 1686. Sacred to the Memory of Paul Sears, second son of Richard Sears born in 1637, married Deborah Willard and died in Yarmouth in 1707. Sacred to the Memory of Sylas Sears, third son of Richard Sears, born in 1639, married and died in Yarmouth in 1697. Sacred to the Memory of Daniel Sears, son of Knyvet Sears of Yarmouth born in 1682, married Sarah Hawes and died in Chatham in 1756. Sacred to the Memory of Daniel Sears II son of Daniel Sears of Chatham born in 1712, married Fear Freeman and died at Chatham in 1761. Sacred to the Memory of David Sears I son of Daniel Sears II of Chatham born in 1752, married Ann Winthrop and died in Boston in 1816. An explanation for this plate is given along the bottom edge: ON GRANITE MONUMENTS IN THE GRAVEYARDS OF YARMOUTH, AND CHATHAM, IN MASSACHUSETTS, NEW ENGLAND, IN NORTH AMERICA, ARE THE ABOVE INSCRIPTIONS TO THE MEMORY OF THE DESCENDANTS OF THE SAYERS OF ALDHAM, AND COLCHESTER. 1830.
The American Dream of EOW is like all things in our world. It ironically stars Charlton Heston as the celebrity Head Horseman of the Appocalypse. All attention is given to sets, costumes, and rehearsals. While wildly distracted with what you will be wearing to Armegeddon you completely ignored the fact that the Anti Christ is your banker. You failed to see the signs of impending doom even when the horses of the Appocolypse thundered down Wall Street, veered off to the Jersey Shore, then set up a camp in Connecticutt. Denial cum negligence.
Notice that the Catholic Church, blazing a trail into excellent customer service for those who desire express service at this important time , has set up the @Pontifex twitter account. The NRA, a religious institution of massive power in the US, is taking a look at being open to the idea (a vitriolic debate about) of banning assault weapons for casual use. Congress is redesigning itself as a newly reborn baby dysfunction, while the world knows the political power in Washington resides on K street, so it hardly matters who goes to Capitol Hill. There is not even a flimsy disguise of that fact.
The folly in all of this is that it is based on not only ignoring reality (the negligence part), but also on the belief that human beings will cast, costume, write, direct, and produce the EOW. Ask your local Jehovah’s Witness. They can tell you, as they have been, what the Bible says about this particular subject. It is their specialty. They have a boutique religion for EOW, preparing all the Witnesses for the eventual probability that they will not even be in the rapture group. If the EOW is handled with the style and grace to which my fellow Americans have become accustomed, the USA will truly miss a once in a lifetime opportunity to go out representing liberty and justice for all.
Just as a hypothetical question, what are you planning to wear? The Swiss have practical advice. They say that the last suit has no pockets. They mean that you will not be taking your CHF to the rapture, because a new kind of value will be established that is superior even to Swiss Francs. Imagine that. The guys below are not only well dressed, but they have a full explanation for everything. This is the special season in which we can ask not,” Are you ready for Christmas?”, but “Are you ready to meet your maker?”
I idealize and adore Sandra Day O’Connor, so it was not really a surprise to find her as a super hero in my dream last night. She was a super judge, which of course she is, but her super powers had expanded beyond the regular earthy ones. My visual recall of my dreams is still pretty crumby, but the ability to hold on the the basic story and characters is improving. She could swoop in like Mighty Mouse or Batman. She wore fashionable street clothes, not the robe, but did have one of the little collar thingys they wear. She had those same piercing baby blue eyes that had a spectrum of vision that showed her where the rule of law was being abused by the cranky pants people.
The cranky group was diverse and included cops and judges along with regular angry bird citizens (the one’s we think might shoot somebody). The judge archetype seeks to balance justice and compassion. The shadow judge manifests as destructive criticism, judging without compassion, as misuse of legal authority, or threatening others through association with the law. Sandra Day was angelic and gave darshan and peace to the cranky panted ones. She had a clarity about her, as one might expect from cross between a real life Supreme and my dream judge/ justice avenger. She restored order like Jesus healed the sick. She had no props, no wand, no sleigh, just the truth. She was so brilliant that she enlightened the darkness in all the hearts she touched. What she did have in common with Santa was a need to keep moving because there was so much clarity, justice, and compassion to be distributed to all the good little girls and boys. By applying exactly the same fair and equal treatment to all the bad little girls and boys she proved that she was so beyond Supreme.
In real life Sandra Day and I are both Arizona hotties, although she is a Phoenician. She is co chair of an institute to foster civility in Tucson at the U of A. Her reputation for civility is epic, not that unlike my dream Super Supreme Sandra. Her favorite poem in real life tells her secret to Supremehood ( and SuperSupremehood):
Sometime when you’re feeling important;
Sometime when your ego’s in bloom
Sometime when you take it for granted
You’re the best qualified in the room,
Sometime when you feel that your going
Would leave an unfillable hole,
Just follow these simple instructions
And see how they humble your soul;
Take a bucket and fill it with water,
Put your hand in it up to the wrist,
Pull it out and the hole that’s remaining
Is a measure of how you will be missed.
You can splash all you wish when you enter,
You may stir up the water galore,
But stop and you’ll find that in no time
It looks quite the same as before.
The moral of this quaint example
Is do just the best that you can,
Be proud of yourself but remember,
There’s no indispensable man.
[Saxon N. White Kessinger, There is No Indispensable Man (1959).]
How simple. These instructions, followed regularly can easily lead to civil discourse. This Supreme’s got SOUL. Let us all wish her luck on her nocturnal flights through the universe. Hi- Ho, SuperSandra, away. Let’s assume that this poem is the gift she wants us all to use while she is busy fighting injustice.
My friend Steffi Burger is one of my German teachers. She was actually born in Germany but will soon join the Swiss club, the most exclusive and hard to join club in the world. She has lived there for about 20 years I think, and fully knows Switzadootch. She will never be able to speak like a real Swiss because she uses German as it was learned in Stuttgart, and will not be able to hide that ever.I am in a category of Swiss speaking much worse than Steffi. I do not speak or read hochdeutch, based on my theory that it has nothing to do with the language and culture of Switzerland. I have tried to learn this very funny and dialectic local code by absorbing it. Results vary. Sometimes I can read stuff and discover the meaning, and others I am totally off course when I read. They capitalize all nouns, which I joke about and have never found to be all that helpful. This is why….the noun is likely to be an entire paragraph. They just love to combine words in their language. I often really like them just for the way they sound. My new favorite word in German is weltuntergang. It is giving me flashbacks to the very first things I learned to say. My friend Beth and I learned a phrase from Ursula of Berlin, the most fashionable woman we had ever met. She taught us to say, ” Let’s be friends. The world is a village.”( Luts uns freude sein. die welt ist ein dorf ) It was my only full concept so I used it in response to everything and everyone. I knew some nouns and the verbs to ice skate and to ride a bicycle. But if the nouns I knew neither ice skated nor had a bicycle I had no way to make any coherent sense with my vocabulary. Welt, or world was in my initial lesson. Now the welt is going under in a single word. Wow, so much as happened, but one thing that has not happened is my magical acquisition of German or Swiss languages by osmosis.
I asked Steffi about parties in Langweiss or Zurich to celebrate the end of the world. She said this had not caught on as a festivity. It is sometimes hard to explain humor when the cultural background is missing. It is complicated to tell someone that the end of the world pot luck party you are excited to attend is to mock the people who are actually afraid of the end of the world. Gives new meaning to you had to be there. I spent the summer of the World Cup partying with the Swiss when the event was in held Germany. I could never convey to an American how the Euros feel about soccer. You truly have to be there to see what they do. Same with Fastnacht, it is inexplicable to people outside the culture. There are intense reasons to celebrate that are generational and not yours if you are born elsewhere. So the Swiss really do Advent, and appear to be skipping the idea of weltuntergang celebrations. I hope the world will not end before I get the chance to go back to Switzerland to party Swiss style. Stay neutral, my friends.

New Mexico celebrates 12 Dec
The village of Tortugas near Las Cruces, NM takes the 12 December very seriously. The fiesta and pilgrimage to the Virgin of Guadalupe is the main event of the year in the town close to the border. The Piro and Tigua traditions are honored in this village.
I was lucky enough to see the surfing virgin in person during her brief stay on an underpass in Encintas, CA. She was perfect there, just a few blocks from Moonlight Beach. She was removed and I think she went to LA to a collection. There was a great uproar to save the art work, but alas she was taken from the site. Tomorrow is the 12 Dec, Virgin of Guadalupe day. I know all her fans at the beach wish she still had a shrine they could see every day in Encinitas.
During the protest the Kook at Cardiff was dressed in her image to show solidarity. If you enjoy costuming and are not familiar with the Kook, you can check his calendar here.
If you could go back in time to any place and time where would you time travel? I know I would go straight to Bad Ragaz (via Zurich) to party like it is Christmas. I would attend the tree lighting choral evening and giant buffet offered by the Grand Hotels Bad Ragaz. There is nothing like it anywhere.
I would go back to the day before the beautiful people redesigned the spa, when bads were bads, and bademeisters were bad ass.
Hotel William Penn in downtown Pittsburgh has a gingerbread house of the hotel in the lobby..I had a really wonderful buffet breakfast there after a stroll of the town.
hotel in gingerbread

The first time I saw the Mission Inn in Riverside, CA I thought it was a mission. I learned it is a landmark hotel now owned by the city to preserve the unique architectural wonder. I visited for a breakfast in the dining room and a look around the place. It is classy.