Hey John,
I am a woman in my mid-forties. I have always been slightly overweight, so I finally found a diet and healthy life style than enabled me to lose some weight. Late in the year my Mom became seriously ill, and I devoted a lot of my time to helping the family out. During the process I lost a few more pounds (not much). My Mom is improving, and my life is considerably improved.
A few months ago I was at a party, all dressed up and having fun when an acquaintance came up to me and said, “I see you’ve lost weight. And it’s not a healthy look for you”. I left the party holding back tears and I can’t stop thinking about what he said. Do I really look that bad? Should I try to gain a few pounds back? Did helping my Mom make me look worn down? It’s months later, and I still feel bad. What can I do to stop ruminating on it?
Feeling Sad
 
Dear Ms. Sad,
I have some bad news for you: schmucks are all around us. My first reaction is to slap the shit out of Mr. or Mrs. Dumbass. However, that “therapy” would only benefit me, not the accused. I think it is essential that we remember to quietly preface all comments from people with, “in my opinion”. If Mr. Insensitivity were to have had the uncommon sense to say, “In my opinion, you may have dropped too much weight”, we might still be wounded, but could keep it in context. It’s just his crappy little unsolicited opinion. That and $2.75 will get you a Starbucks coffee. In other words, it doesn’t mean much. There are plenty of people that try to make themselves feel superior by giving lots of unsolicited (and usually unwanted) opinions or advice.  Re-directing your anger (or sadness) to the tragedy of their terribly handicapped ego would be more accurate than seriously considering what they had to say.
You have to wonder what ever has happened to them that they would become so ill mannered. Too bad for us to be subjected to it; really too bad for them being like this. So instead of trying to forget about it, properly reframe it: they’ve become crass, and it’s too bad you were there for it.
P.S. Unless you look like Twiggy in the sixties, keep the weight off, you lucky duck.
P.S.S. At the risk of over self-promotion, I recommend one of my personally favorite essays: Not Defending Yourself at: http://www.johnsommercounseling.com/blog/not-defending-yourself  It really set me free.

P.S. Do you think Texas will ever legalize weed? With all these states legalizing marijuana, do you have an opinion?
Benjamin J.

She realized how foolish they were: smoking pot in her boyfriend's car. When the police lights came on behind them, she tried to put away the "blunt" (a stupidly oversized joint). She nervously knocked the fixings all over the seat and floor. Fortunately it was well within the misdemeanor range (about a gram: 1/28th of an ounce. Anything below four ounces is a misdemeanor in Texas). She was horrified when she found out she had been charged with a felony: an extremely serious and life changing charge. Because the police office observed the small amount of pot on the seat and floor, the prosecutor decided to charge her with tampering with evidence. Maximum penalty: ten years in prison! Her court appointed attorney advised her to take a plea bargain and accept ten years probation. She will have paid over ten thousand dollars by the time it’s over. And she will have a felony permanently embedded on her record.
 
Another person came in for counseling due to some serious depression. Two years before he was pulled over for speeding. He had no problem with the officer searching his car as he hadn’t smoked pot in a couple of years. To his shock, the cop found an ancient “roach” decaying in a tiny metal box. He was charged, posted non-refundable bail, then the charges were later dropped as the roach was so old and tiny, they couldn’t get a sample from it. He had custody of his two young children, as his angry ex-wife needed more “space”. However, her parents wanted the kids and she was living with them, so they hired an expensive attorney from Dallas, and using the arrest as evidence of his inability to care for his two children, he lost custody of his children.
 
We can easily blame an excited and overzealous District Attorney, but regardless, the law is in place. The only relief is to reduce the extreme punishment for a light “crime”. Drop the debate for a while on the legalization of marijuana, and let’s consider the reduction of extreme punishment in decriminalization. Look it up, as there’s a huge difference. The problem is the people who are charge of creating a humane environment are politicians. Most do not want to create a potential controversy by taking a stand. Their main concern, perhaps their only concern is to keep their relatively easy and well paid jobs. So they stay quiet.
 
This is not an endorsement of smoking pot, but a reasonable request to drop the extreme penalties of the 1940’s, and make the law fit the crime. I hope our fine state is not only populated by political scaredy cats. We are long overdue to step up to the plate and make the shoe (or boot) fit the foot.
 
 
 
John S. Sommer
National Certified Addictions Counselor II
Licensed Clinical Social Worker, Supervisor

Hey John,
I know you have written about it before, but now that I’m off probation I have started to drink some and smoke weed again. I’m old enough to know better to do this stuff while I’m driving, so I doubt I will ever have to deal with probation again. The problem is my girlfriend. We have been seeing each other for about two years, and I was not smoking or drinking during that time. She says alcohol changes my personality, so I hardly drink. Besides, as drugs go, I would rather smoke weed anyway. She says new studies show marijuana can cause mental illness. I say it’s probably not a good thing to use if you are mentally ill, but it doesn’t cause it. I love her more that I love getting high, so if it puts our relationship in danger, I’ll stop. What do you say?
P.S. Do you think Texas will ever legalize weed? With all these states legalizing marijuana, do you have an opinion?
Benjamin J.
 
Bennie,
You ask two big questions, so you’ll get two answers. Friday will be part One, and Monday or Tuesday will be Part Two.
 
Sometimes people get overly nervous when their spouse drinks or uses another drug and predicts somewhat unpleasant behaviors. Sometimes they’re wrong, more often times they’re right. Right or wrong, it shouldn’t really matter: why would we do stuff that scared the person we love?  Even if their fears are ungrounded, if they are scared, and we are the cause of it, do we want to scare the person we love and protect? We should take care of each other better than that. If you say, “Why shouldn’t she take care of me, ‘cause I just want to get high?” Comparing these two, not being scared is always a bigger deal than the need for altered states every  single  time.
I don’t know what has her scared: altered behaviors or the threat of mental illness. I am including a really interesting article from a recent New Yorker magazine to add to y’alls further education. I highly recommend it. https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/01/14/is-marijuana-as-safe-as-we-think 
 I will comment on the marijuana issue in Part Two of this HeyJohn.
 
One problem with altered states (there are a few more) is that it often becomes the norm rather than the occasional “partying”. Both of your favorite drugs are undesirable as a norm. Alcohol is an older, longer observed drug, and we all know about the depressing or shit behaviors that can result. Obviously it’s not an issue with everyone, but you better keep your eyes on it. The immediate issue at hand is what a long-term loving relationship is supposed to be about. Be a great boyfriend or husband. Protect your gal. It’s an important thing to make her feel safe.
I personally have never found an altered state I loved more than my wife.
 
Please tune in for Part Two. I hope I don’t alienate my followers, but I have a thought to toss at you. See you Monday (2/4/19) or Tuesday.

    It wasn’t until many years later that I realized that he had been an accidental role model for me. He was big and tough, but tender and kind. He was pretty dang fearless: even when it seemed likely he was going to lose a fight, he wouldn’t quit; standing up for what was right was his priority. He probably complained too much, but in retrospect, he had pretty good reason to complain. After all, when their maiden journey to the moon exposed him and his crew to the potentially deadly “cosmic rays”, he really got the short end of the stick. Benjamin J. Grimm was transformed into an ugly, orange, rock pile looking guy. Although he was massively strong, he looked like crap. He even coined his own tragic superhero name, “The Thing”.
   Later, in a different part of New York, a nerdy teen got chewed on by a radioactive spider. Even with the “strength of ten men”, being able to walk up walls, and being able to shoot super strong web, Peter still  got screwed. He wanted to get friendly with the girls, but was either too shy or some web-slinging situation gummed things up. It was a minor league Shakespearean tragedy put into a comic book. Rather than innumerate all the comic book characters, it’s more interesting to note what they did for me. Or rather, did for us.

    Stan (“the man”) Lee, the creator and co-creator (along with Jack “king” Kirby) of a new type of superhero, just died November of 2018. He was responsible for far more than imagination and insight. He turned out to be our entertainer and inspiration for what good behavior was supposed to be. For an hour or two, we would be transported to an amazing world of good versus evil.  Science fiction that was both written and drawn, with strong undercurrents of behaviors we subconsciously admired. I doubt Stan Lee ever intended on creating something that would never be duplicated: the true Golden Age of comics. Many years later, as comic popularity waned, the comics tried to mirror what the writers thought the young public wanted: very little story or character development, lots of graphic violence, fewer drawn panels, and lots of huge breasts. Sheesh. Sometimes we long for new inspirations, not money-grubbing ass kissing. They reversed Marvel comics’ order of priorities: create stuff the teens will love and relate to, and the money will follow. If you do it just for the moola, the stories will predictably suck.

    Ask any former comic loving baby boomer for a comic story. Silver Surfer turning on his master Galactus to save humanity? Professor X (X-Men), a chrome-dome wheelchair bound guy who’s more powerful than all his X-Men he’s training? Reed Richards (Fantastic Four) risking his life to go back into the deadly Negative Zone to get something to save the life of his wife and unborn child? And just think, we haven’t even talked about the incredible array of ultra-powerful villains.

    So Stan Lee, I thank you for introducing me to the world of reading for entertainment. You introduced me to great people I wanted to be like. You made my younger years better and more important than had you not been there. So later on this evening, I may go out back and fire up a stogy (or cheroot, depending on which character  is inspiring me).  And if I see a stupid squirrel trying to break into my attic again, the neighbors may hear me yell, “It’s clobberin’ time!”
Excelsior.

Hey John,
 
My wife and I have been married for eleven years, and we would both like to know how can we enhance our marriage? We have no more problems than most, but things are somewhat monotonous and well, as you might call it: zombie-like. Do you have any ideas on how to make things better? Are we destined to eventually be just old roommates living with each other?  Rob
 
Dear Rob ~almost~ Zombie,
I believe it is a very insightful question. First of all, our long marriages (long friendships as well) will become somewhat predictable. We should have realistic expectations that all days will not be like our beginning days of our falling in love. That being said, we must be cautious not to use that reality as an excuse for lack of creativity and work. There are things we did naturally, and with no effort in our beginning days that have been forgotten due to complacency. For example, she may get looking mighty snappy as she departs for work, but rarely gets extra snappy looking for her husband (and obviously, vice versa). In our dating days, we used to want to give a good impression to our date, but then we get used to each other, and don't think about it so much. Additionally, a feature in our early days is to notice and comment on cool stuff our partner does. For an example: even though both parents are more than ready for their kids to go to bed, he will consistently go in and tuck the kids into bed. Or perhaps they say some good night prayers with them. Usually this becomes routine, and there is never a comment about it. However, an honest observation shared might be, “you know, no matter how tired you are, you always lovingly tuck the kids in”. Or he might comment: “when I was a kid, we never said night prayers with my parents. I have learned from your great example that it’s an important way to end the day with the kids”.

So here's the general philosophy: how would I see things, and how would I react if this were my second date with this great woman?  So I'll drive home from work and start pretending I am heading over to this cute, curly-haired girl's house for my date with her. How do I look? I hope I smell okay. She's invited me for supper, and has told me I can just park next to her in the garage. Cool. When I go in the back door, I can smell she's been cooking something up for me. Again: cool. After all, she's been working today, same as me, but she hurried home to make something for me. Yow! She's happy to see me, and I greet her with a kiss. This is almost too good to be true. If this really was our second date, how amazing would this be? How would I show my appreciation? Help her clean the kitchen afterwards? Sit around that evening and talk and talk and talk?
We begin our relationship with amazement and appreciation. Later, as we become used to our life, we seem to not give plenty of things a second thought. People fear divorces, but few consider a lifeless marriage. Most fall in love because the other person makes them happy they are there. Although it would not seem reasonable to expect every day is filled with appreciation of each other, we should work throughout our lives together to help the other person to be grateful they are with us.

So Rob, you can fight the Curse Of The Aging Married Zombies with loving work and mutual ongoing consideration for each other. We all eventually die some day, and I hope it’s in each other’s arms, in love.

Yes, the Dear Crabby Jr. Emergency Response System has been activated! Today’s installment deals with a ridiculous inquiry from one screwed up sister about the other screwed up sister. Abby Junior’s response was so mind-bending, I temporarily lost my ability to speak. So, in the interest of universal brain cells, I will respond. Additionally, in the interest of diversity and world peace, I will add my response to Jeannie,  age 75, aka the daughter of Dear Abby 1. Please assume light paraphrasing:
 
Dear Crabby,
My sister is having an affair with a married man. She says his wife’s “a fat ass”, and the kid, uh, a little s-l-o-w. He buys my sister lots of stuff. He says he won’t leave his wife. She doesn’t care. She calls him honey. She’s good to trade sex for gifts. I was cheating with a married man a while ago. I broke up with him when he wouldn’t leave his pathetic wife. I think my sister’s a hoe. Should I feel this way?
Maine Sneaker
 
[Dear Crabby Jr.’s approximate response]:
Dear Sneaker,
“The two of you appear to have very different values*. You want the full meal deal, and she wants the goodies and crumbs”.  
 *exact quote
 
[Hey John ]
Dear Sneaker,
Aiiieeeeeee!! Is this for real??
First, you might ask, “why on earth would anyone print my mind-draining letter, much less respond to it?” Well Sneaky, all failing newspapers have turned to junk anyway, so why not print another ridiculous item?  So, let’s burn up some more ink:
 
You both want what you want, regardless of the damage you may bring about. Morals, values, judgment, accountability are absent from you both. Did the both of you grow up with a poor role model? Was it your Mom or your Dad? Crabby Jr. says y’all have "very different values"? Whatever. You’re more like the dysfunctional home-wrecking twins.
 
If someone’s in a failing marriage, that’s a shame. But to cause or contribute to a failing marriage is a wholly different matter. You consider your actions to be better than your sister’s? I forget, what was that kinda religious thing about who’s chunkin’ the first stone? Also to consider, if you ever write a columnist and she doesn’t comment on y’alls screwed up thinking, it’s not supposed to be a proclamation that y’alls behavior is acceptable. If you feel like doing harm to someone for your own gratification, you need a whole lot more help than just writing a funky advice columnist.
 
You aren’t asking for advice. But, if you are going around feeling superior to your sister, you need a serious tune-up. The both of you. If y’all aren’t the type who wish to improve their lives as they get older, it would be wise to simply leave other people alone. Everyone.

p.s. Crabby Junior, a lot of people retire long before 75. May I offer a suggestion?

Hey John,
I know we’ve all heard this before, but I am really bummed out at Christmas time. The commercialism, the pressure of Christmas cards, of buying presents, of meal preparation, and on and on. I’m not ultra-religious, but this is (or was) a religious holiday. I don’t want to be sad. I’d like to enjoy this season. Is it even possible?
No Chestnuts Roasting
 
Dear Chess Nut,
Often at holiday time, we have our own expectations of what would make it special. Then, *kaboom*, it’s not what we wished it was. I was reminiscing about a handful of times when something extra cool happened. Once, I was driving with my family across the Oakland-SF Bay Bridge. It’s a five dollar toll (!) going, and nothing coming back. As I got to the toll booth, the toll lady said, “You’re good to go. The guy in front of you paid your toll”. What guy? A stranger. Gone like the Lone Ranger he was. Whoa. And here I am, twenty years later telling you about it. Some handicapped guy was trying to put his coat on next to our table in a local restaurant. He lost his precarious balance and started to fall towards my table. I caught him, and although he was pretty embarrassed, I helped him on with his jacket. When I went to pay for our tasty lunch, I was informed someone had secretly paid for it. Unnecessary, but nevertheless mighty cool. A neighbor got her front yard “toilet papered” (arguably one of the stupidest “tricks” to play on someone). Before she got home, a couple of high school kids saw it, jumped out of their cars and cleaned it up for her. She never found out who helped her out.
 
The point is this: rather than have expectations of others, how about ideas for ourselves? If a holiday wasn’t very joyous, I would rather it be due to my own un-involvement then other people falling short. Better yet, I’d prefer my holiday to be important by my own kind, energetic, and occasionally inspired actions. Be pro-active. Do some cool stuff.  Make it different than seasons before. When we do good, our hearts and souls are lifted. I think that’s what Christmas was supposed to be about in the first place.

It’s closing in on Christmas, and estranged families are extra-impacted by the season. Siblings who have made no attempt to contact anyone in ten years, teenage daughters injured by their divorced Dad who had too little to do with them in recent years; sons  who departed their parents in anger and disgust are but a few examples of Hurtin’ Holiday Humans.
If no further contact is desired, then likely that’s the way it will be. However, there are those who wish they could undo their behavior. This person was aching for a re-connection, and figured there was nothing she could do, so we tried an experiment. Later, a man came in aching for contact with his soon to be married daughter. We (he) applied the same principle: same result.
 
Although she had come in for marital problems, when she started talking about her daughter she began to cry.  She said her daughter had been seeing a guy who was big trouble, but at 19, her daughter wouldn’t listen.  One evening while she was reading in bed, her door flew open and her daughter and her boyfriend stood there with a .38 and shot at her head.  She said she actually heard the bullet rocket past her ear into the wall, then they were gone.  She didn’t call the police but left the state to move here.  When I asked her about her obvious sadness, she told me she had been told her daughter was expecting a child and due in a few months.  Between the tears she said “despite what she did, she’s still my girl and (sob) I want to be there to help her and the baby”.  I was a little surprised: maternal instinct trumped the worst behavior ever.
 
I asked her if she wanted to be the first guinea pig in a brand new experiment: postcard therapy.  The rules, though few, might not be easy to follow. After the discussion, she agreed to try the experiment. The rules were:
* Buy six postcards – any type. You can get blank ones at the post office.
* Send them with odd frequency. For example, one on Monday then on Thursday. The next week on Friday. The next week on Thursday and Friday.
* No lovey-dovey messages. Only friendly chatter such as “after a year of no rain, two inches fell last night. A blue jay and mocking bird were out back having a heck of a fight”, etc, etc.
* By far, the most difficult part is the last rule: you can’t expect anything in return. That means absolutely nothing. Nada. Zip. You are doing this as a kindness and sacrifice for your child, not to win them back. No running to the mailbox hoping for a letter. This is for them, not for you.
 
I saw her two weeks later and she had sent three of the six postcards thus far.  She said the not running to the mailbox was indeed the toughest part of the experiment.  I didn’t see her for another six weeks.  When she came in she patted her purse and told me she had something for me to see.  She reached in and I expected her to pull out a surprise return letter.  Instead, she pulled out an airplane ticket.  Voice cracking, she said her daughter had called and begged her to be with her for the labor and delivery. 
 
She arrived two days before the birth of her first grandchild.  Later, she called me to thank me and said that she and her husband were moving back to her home state and thanked me for “letting me be your guinea pig for postcard therapy”.  A year later it was another homerun with an estranged father and his 23 year old daughter.  This time the child asked her father to come back and walk her down the aisle at her wedding.  The only failure thus far was a woman who angrily came back in to announce the therapy had failed.  She bitterly complained, “The little ingrate never bothered to write me back!”  Whoops, obviously she forgot the final and toughest step.
 
This therapy is born out of kindness and sacrifice for someone.  We also inadvertently lead the way by providing a powerful example about loving behavior.  The worst thing that could happen is that nothing happens.  You’re out the cost of six postcards and stamps and maybe thirty minutes of writing for your efforts.  The best that could happen is that you change their lives and yours. 
Post cards: they’re not just for vacations anymore…

 Hey John,
I’m a guy in his early thirties. I was engaged for a while a few years ago, but we broke up. I have dated pretty consistently since then. I haven’t been looking for a wife as much as just female company. However, for the last two years I have been seeing a girl (woman) who I have fallen deeply in love with. We both feel the same about each other. Even though I really don’t believe in moving in with someone, we did just that about six months ago. She has three kids: a girl (10), a boy (8), and a girl (4). She has been raising them by herself for about the last four years. The father pays some child support, but rarely sees the kids. My problem is this: she is my dream woman except for the fact she always yells at her kids. I know she is tired after a day of work, but it’s yell yell, yell yell yell. Stuff like, “I told you to pick up your toys!” Or, “You two stop fighting!” Or, “You better have your room clean or no bowling party on Saturday!” When I try to intervene in the yell hell, she angrily reminds me I have no idea what type of stress she’s going through (which is not true). Do stressed out mothers ever learn different ways of dealing with issues with their kids? Our future may depend on your answer.
Earache Ed
 
Dear Ed The Boyfriend,
“Our future may depend on your answer”? Yow! That’s putting a lot of heat on this ol’ counselor! I’d better choose my words carefully, eh? The really short answer is yes. However, that is a pretty inadequate response. Making changes in parenting issues can be difficult because many people make automatic responses to their children without giving it much thought. This is especially true when our kids are irritating us. It can just be a I SAID CLEAN YOUR ROOM!! But how do you (or rather, she) like this ridiculous response? The six year old boy was being extra rough with the new puppy. He just (kinda playfully) tossed Mr. Dog up to the ceiling to land on the bed. However, Dog bounced off the bed onto the floor and yelped in pain. Pops spanked him with three pops on the butt, and then informed him there was no Christmas for him. He went to bed sobbing.  It seems like Pops over reacted, to say the least. Discipline / punishment should be intended to teach your kid to act in a different manner, not just make them suffer for pissing us off. If our response is only to show the kid how angry we are at them, it usually teaches nothing. It is also worth noting that plenty of women try to control their children in a similar way, just verbally. Dire warnings, exasperated yelling and promises of bad things to come are somewhat common. However, what they really are is a “vent” for tired frustration. Mom’s whipped from her job and has little patience for misbehavior. Thus Mom hollers: https://upload.wikimedia.org/…/John_Weissmuller%27s_MGM_Tar… Now, as a therapist, I know we need to vent. However, a much greater need might be met by learning how to stop (or at least reduce) misbehavior, rather than just yell. One of the most common regrets I hear from mothers is that they yell too much at their children. So specifically, here’s an idea or two to consider:
* get more out of your children by participating in the chore with them…. and happily. Room cleaning is a perfect example.
* have more realistic expectations of your kids. Children do not have the problem solving abilities to settle a disagreement. Thus, the parent should calmly (as much as possible) sit down with them, listen to the issue and give them a couple of ideas of what they can do. The silent threat that if you need to settle it, they might not like your decision (video games are put up for 24 hours for instance) is always present. They can’t do it, then you do it for them.
* don’t give away your power. Who on earth wants their kids to feel like their parents are helpless? When you merely “vent” (that is, yell), it means you are helpless. Be quietly and calmly threatening with lousy behavior. Think of pissing off the Godfather. Does he get loud? Does he spit out threats? Nope. You know he’s got the quiet power, and you’d better be careful.

Finally, to directly answer your question, it is possible to ♫change your evil ways, baby♪? It takes consistent effort rather than only acting out of habit. If she has a good personal work ethic, with the proper instruction and role modeling, she can indeed improve her parenting skills. However, if she’s just a tired, stressed out mother who only wants a break when she’s with her children, she may continue to yell at her kids and inspire them to leave home as soon as they are old enough. Personally, I’d rather have my kids eventually miss me someday instead of being relieved they away from me. I hope she improves in her parenting skills, and y’all live happily ever after.

Hey John     

I’m recently married.  My wife has an eleven year old son.  I have a problem with his eating habits.  He can’t live without sodas and crappy food.  We were mowing the lawn and we were both really thirsty.  I went in and brought out 2 cold waters.  He raised a fuss and took one sip.  He said he’ll  just wait for his Dr. Pepper.  I can’t get his Mom to help me help him to be more healthy.  Both he and his Mom are pretty plump.  I can’t convince her that it is in his best interests to not grow up to be fat.  Am I out of line in pushing healthy food?  Is my step-son destined to be Fat Freddie?
 
Healthy Dad
 
 
Dear Mr. Health,
 
First off-did you know this woman and her son before you married her?  I assume you did.  What has changed since you fell in love with her?  I agree with you that introducing your family to a healthier life style would be in their best interests.  But, the question presents itself:  how much right do you have to insist these people follow your way of life?  I assume you fell in love with wifey for reasons beyond your desire to watch her change her diet.  You underestimate the influence you can have by quietly leading the way.  You also underestimate the amount of resistance you will create by being a nagging pain in the posterior.  So here’s a few recommendations. 

1. Be a loving, supportive husband to your wife, and step father to your new son.
2. Go shopping with your wife once in a while.  Pick out the healthy stuff you want, and pipe down about whining about the case of Dr. Pepper and 3 bags of pork rinds she might buy.
3. Introduce junior to a few tasty treats.  Don’t take it personally if change comes slowly.  Cheese or peanut butter on celery, cut carrot sticks with ranch dressing, toasted seasoned baked pita chips are all fun to eat.  If no one eats them, you eat them.  Kids are starving after school – it’s a good time to tempt him with clever tasty grub.

Be an active loving husband and father.  Be a good example and relax.

She came in ready to unload. It was appropriate considering she had a number of issues that were of concern. However, it was a difficult session as she never stopped to inhale for an hour. Finally I had to politely interrupt her to slow the flow of complaints. Without minimizing of any of her concerns, I told her I was needing to provide her at least an observation. Maybe even an idea or two. So  when I stopped her and told her I was OK to just be her sounding board, but if she was seeking some possible solutions, I had something to suggest. She agreed. So I asked her if she wanted to engage in a therapy experiment. I ventured: “for one day, 24 hours, I would like for you to reflect on how often you get negative and complain. Then, even in mid-sentence, stop and re-direct your comments. In other words, no complaining whatsoever for 24 hours. The point is to see how much of your life has become negative. You don’t have to start liking negative stuff, just no complaining for a day”. She cautiously agreed.
 
Two weeks later she came in and said, “Are you trying to make me crazy or something? You’re making me nuts. Because I messed up so much on the first day, I decided to do it the next. It’s killin’ me. Now I notice all the time when I’m constantly complaining”. Although this was not the completely expected outcome, we both found it interesting how we have to purposely make ourselves be positive. And that negative has become so easy. What the heck has happened to us?!
 
So here’s how I personalized this piece of advice for myself (i.e. kidnapping Thanksgiving): on Thanksgiving I’m going to make it a personal day to concentrate on thanks giving. The pilgrims were probably brave folks, even with their weird hats. The Indians seemingly welcomed them, and of course got fleeced in the long run. But enough history…. I want a fun holiday. So on Thanksgiving I try to temporarily shut down my whining, and wallow in my gratitude. I’ll have to remind myself 500 times throughout the day, “what cool things am I grateful for?” Then really think about them for a while. Let me give you a couple of personal examples:
*My first public speaking gig was as a college senior. I was to give a five minute presentation about, of all things, juvenile delinquency; a topic which I had some personal experience in. In front of only eight other classmates, I crapped out. I couldn’t keep my voice from quivering. I couldn’t remember what to say, so I gave a lousy minute and a half presentation and got a D. Today I had a group of twenty, and it was like talking to a friend in my living room. Somehow I have developed into a public presenter, and I am amazed and very grateful.
*I was lost in the excitement and beauty of music by the age of 14. Although almost everyone my age has a big surround sound stereo, it’s only used for TV viewing. Any music, if any at all, has been relegated as background fill. As an older guy I still derive such pleasure from music, it is a constant joy. To this I am incredibly grateful.
*I only excelled at bowling and ping pong when I was younger. Well, music recognition too. Somehow, along the way I developed into a real counselor with decent credibility. How did this ever happen? It’s amazing.
 
Get it? It’s not an exercise of monotone recital of things-I-am-grateful-for, but rather a deep look into what cool stuff we hardly even pay attention to. Dig deep, give it lots of thought. After all, you have the entire Thanksgiving day to give thanks. It’s kinda disturbing it takes so much effort, but I’m ready to really celebrate Thanksgiving. So I’m going to chase away Mr. Whine and instead be Mr. Gratitude for a full day and start loving Thanksgiving again.
I’ll top it off with the big tasty bird. And the candied yams. And dressing. And cranber……

I have a retired counselor cyber-friend from Israel. A few years ago I was putting together my web page, so I asked Rona for some ideas. One of her suggestions was to look at other therapist’s web sites to garner some ideas. I was amazed that their blogs were full of personal political rants, opinions as to the state of the world; basically on online diary. Yow! What a weird thing to publish. So I opted for what I knew best: a counseling-based web presence. However, this week’s blog is a departure from my web philosophy. Specifically, a remarkable friend of mine just died after a long battle with cancer. Andy didn’t get out much, so most people did not know him, and that’s too bad. So this week is a tiny glimpse into the life of William Andy Wade. It’s not much, but it is the least I could do for this amazing human being.
 
William Andy Wade (Andy) just died. I wanted to come out to his place last weekend for our usual every other Sunday visit, and he texted me he was too sick to have company. Tuesday night I got another text from him informing me he was in the hospital. As a stubborn “tough guy”, going to the hospital had meant things were grim. I saw him twice Wednesday and the same on Thursday. My last visit Thursday night was indeed grim. He was in a lot of pain, and seemed to not be aware of much else. A bunch of people came to say goodbye during the day. His friend of 42 years, Gary and I stayed with him at night until the meds finally relieved the pain and knocked him out. Gary and I left about the same time, but Gary went back for a while later that night. I received notice the next morning (Nov. 2, 2018) that Andy had died. He was 68.

Through all the stories I have been privy to, it is clear I knew Andy in his “calmer” years. He lived in Brownwood for 21 years, and I knew him for about the last 15. I always felt like I was holding onto the tail of a comet as it was finishing its orbit. As a metallurgist / quality control expert / international pipeline inspector plus numerous other titles, Andy was regarded as one of the best in his field. He once slept in a large pipe lifted off the ground with a crane in Iran (“the scorpions will definitely kill you in the night”), and inspected pipeline hundreds of yards long, deep underground on a mechanics sled. The only air to breathe had to be pumped into the pipeline. He lived in Brazil, Indonesia, Nigeria, Paraguay, London, and Hong Kong to name about one third of the countries he lived and worked in. Everywhere he went, his work was held in extreme regard. One person said, “Whatever job Andy took on, he became the master of it.”

He worked hard, and from the numerous stories shared with me, he played hard. He was a tall, Shakespearean actor-looking guy. Long silver hair, a handlebar moustache and pearl white teeth, he attracted attention wherever he went. Sometimes positive attention, sometimes not. Someone recently shared this little glimpse into his past: “We were in the airport and Andy never took his sunglasses off. Once we were in the plane, Andy was sitting across the aisle from me, and I asked him why he kept his shades on. He took them off to show me a really huge black eye. He told me last night he was at a ghetto bar (they were in Rio de Janeiro), and he whipped everyone at the pool table. When he walked outside with all their money, six of them jumped him. The last thing he remembers was a boot coming down on his head. When he woke up it was dark and he had no idea where he was. And it smelled bad. He reached up and opened the lid: they had tossed him into a dumpster.” There are many stories, including his throat cancer, misapplied radiation “therapy” that destroyed every one of his teeth and slowly killed his right hand and arm, and other ailments he had to deal with.

But here’s the story we all needed to know. He came over our house to introduce to his great friend Gary a few years ago. After enjoying listening to them reminisce, I asked Gary how he first met Andy, and he began, “Do you remember the old telex machines?” [single line of paper coming out of a machine- the precursor to the fax machine]. Andy got inexplicably got mad and walked out of the room muttering, “I don’t have to listen to this shit”. Gary continued, “A telex came through the office that one of our guys in Indonesia was in a horrible flat boat accident. Everyone: men, women and their children were drowned. Everyone except Andy and a young newlywed couple. He was able to get to them and swam seven hours, all night long and saved them. I decided then that I wanted to meet him when he got back.”

Although I am pleased to share my friend’s greatness, I am crying as I close this. William Andy Wade, all of us that knew you well knew we were the privileged few that got to be your friend. I will always be grateful to having been a friend of yours. I close by quoting you when you wrote a kind note to Denise shortly after she shared that her Mom had just died. “Head stones are for those left behind. As a child of God she is free of all earthly things and now is basking in the glory of the Lord.”
As are you my fine friend. Faretheewell.

As “Hey John” has morphed into a gen-u-wine counseling column rather than just a weenie weight “advice column”, should the situation arise that the email requests are blank (like this week), I will present you with hopefully significant events to contemplate. This one has added to my existence. I hope you find it useful. 
 
Part One: The Visit
 
I walked in the door, having completed my eight-hour shift as a bartender, and my hour commute back to San Jose. I was greeted by my eight month pregnant wife and her mom and dad who had journeyed from Austin to come visit us. I was complaining that one of my regular customers, Connie (Conrad) spent his sipping time at the bar to whine about how unbelievably slow AAA was at responding to his flat tire call. When I asked the 45 year old why he didn’t change it himself during his two-and-a-half-hour wait, he responded, “Hell, I’m getting too old to do that”. Too old?! My father-in-law Claude (Nolen) somewhat misunderstood my story and explained to me: “You know, when you are young (I was 23), everything seems possible. But, as you grow older, you begin to realize that your age is a limitation to some dreams. Think of the great college basketball player who dreams of being a pro. Now he’s 35 and he realizes he’s now too old to begin a professional career. Take me for example. I wrote my book for my dissertation many years ago. I have planned on writing a second book ever since. Now in my mid-fifties, it’s too late to begin such a momentous task. It’s a bit of a sad reality coming to grips with the fact one is too old to do something he had dreamt about for so long.” Although it made sense, it was a little depressing to think our time is always running out on our dreams.
 
Part Two: An Interesting Combination Of Events
 
Many years later, our firstborn Justin moved in with his grandparents, Jeanne and Claude in order to limit the costs of attending Austin Community College. We gave Justin our office computer with an old (and difficult to master) word processing program, Bank Street Writer. It took me quite a while to show him how to use it. After his first year at ACC, he got an apartment with a friend and left the old PC at his grandparent’s house. Jeanne began calling me on a regular basis about using the computer, as she had never used one before. To make things more complicated yet, she was getting instructions, one at a time, on how to use Bank Street Writer. She decided to transcribe the thousands of nearly illegible little notes Claude had written over the years into the computer. It was a seemingly an impossible job. Week after week, month after month Jeanne typed and Claude also dictated information he both knew and researched about The Black’s role in the Civil War, Slavery and Reconstruction. He finally exhaustedly submitted his work- and was rejected. He revised it over the next months, submitted it, and was rejected again. He made revisions again, and on June 1, 2001, McFarland Publishing put Claude’s book on the shelves. Although Claude generously gave credit to numerous family members for their assistance, it was his and Jeanne’s very late-in-life completion of a long lost dream. He figured it was out of reach in his mid-fifties, and he proved himself wrong. He was eighty.
 
So the obvious question presents itself: at what point in our lives do we know things are no longer possible? Can we re-start ourselves at fifty? Work at doing something we had previously given up on in our sixties? What about at eighty? Knowing that there is a possibility of achieving old dreams, or for that matter, new dreams regardless of our age is a lesson to be considered as we grow older.

Hey John,
I am writing to get a second opinion on a family matter. I am currently seeing a counselor who has shared her advice, and I tend to agree with her. I had a long standing boyfriend with who I had a daughter with. She is currently thirteen years old. Her Dad was sent to prison for a non-violent crime. But he caught a long sentence. We had broken up long before his incarceration, but we still shared our daughter back and forth. Since he got locked up I decided I didn’t want her to see him. He has asked numerous times if I would let her come to see him, or at least let them communicate with letters. I said no. I still carry a lot of anger and resentment towards him, so basically: screw ‘em. Our daughter doesn’t ask about him so much anymore. However, I am seeing some acting out behaviors from her. She is rude to my live-in boyfriend, and has had some bad behaviors at school. I don’t know if it’s the fact she doesn’t have a dad anymore, or if it’s me, or what. My counselor told me she believes I have the right to cut him out of her life because I’m her mother. But now that I’m seeing behaviors from my daughter, I’m not so sure. Have you had any experience with cases like this? What do you think?
Her Mom
 
Dear Mom,
Yes, I have had numerous cases like this in the last forty years of counseling. When I started this column, I was fully aware of some serious limitations  I would have in comparison to my normal face-to-face counseling. An obvious one is that I am asked my opinion on matters of which I have only limited information about. Secondly, you don’t know me, so I may lack the credibility I might have if you knew me better. That second issue is a big one here, because your counselor is dead wrong. This is not a parental rights or woman’s rights issue at all. It is only a What Is Best For Your Daughter issue. You didn’t share what your ex is locked up for. If he is for a dangerous man who needs to be under lock and key, you should keep her away in order to physically protect her. For example, if he were a wife-beating, child-torturing SOB, he needs to be out of her life. As you stated it was a non-violent crime, it could be drugs, prostitution, theft, fraud, etc., etc. Further, you stated your decision was based on your anger and resentment towards him. I don’t want to alienate you here, but that’s a seriously poor reason to kill any communication with him. You asked for my professional opinion, so here it is:
1) Tell your girl you may have errored  in not letting her communicate with her dad.
2) Write him and tell him he may write her. However, all letters (at least for a while) need to monitored by you.
3) Help her to write back. As you had previously stamped out their relationship, you will need to tutor her on how to write a little chatty letter. Help her address the envelope, and mail it together if you can. Remember, kids nowadays have likely not written a letter in their lives. You’ll need to teach her.
4) After a while (six months?) you might allow him to call her. Limit the calls to about 10 minutes, at least for a while.
5) If he’s a worthless father, she’ll figure it out pretty quickly and she’ll reduce the contact.
 
The bottom line is this: if we use our children as a weapon to punish their other parent, it almost always does damage to them. They will eventually seek out the other parent when they are older, and will always be resentful of the parent who punished them for no reason. I don’t know if this will help her in her current acting out behaviors, but it’s likely to help her future.

Hey John,
I have a problem with my mother in law. My wife and I have been married for five years. My divorced MIL lives in another state. She will come twice a year to visit us. She is nice company for both my wife and myself. As we both work, she is happy to cook supper for us. The problem is her lack of wanting privacy. Every single time she has come to visit she will walk out of the bathroom topless. Sometimes totally in the raw. I don’t understand her need for attention, as she is build like a brickhouse. I’m pretty sure she times her exit from the bathroom around my being nearby. I don’t know if she is coming on to me, or she just likes showing off. When I brought this up with my wife, she tells me not to worry, her mom has always walked around topless. I’d feel a lot better if it was my wife doing this, not my MIL. I am really uncomfortable bringing this up with my MIL, as it seems pretty messed up in the first place. Instead of looking forward to good company and fine meals, I find myself being tense as her next visit approaches. What do I do?
Seeing Too Much
 
Dear Too Much,
Can you imagine a profession where a person would continually get exposed (no pun intended) to so many weird scenarios? Well, here we are, and here you go: yup, it’s a pretty freaky situation. You say you’ve been married for five years, and as your MIL’s behavior hasn’t escalated to any weirder behavior, it would seem like she’s not coming on to you. However, if it had been my MIL, I’d be freakin’ out. And, in the event you think your wife’s response is normal, it’s a little wacked out as well.
 
I have found as we age, other people’s behaviors force us to become more assertive. I cringe a little when I recall incidences when I was younger that I let pass because I was too uncomfortable to address it. But time after time after time of being subjected to improper behaviors have helped me to find my voice. I suggest to you begin to find yours. I will occasionally begin to make a difficult statement by prefacing it with the comment that I am uncomfortable in saying this, but….. For example, early in my career as a therapist, I had to endure numerous clients who would bath in perfume before sitting down in my office. A couple of times I would find myself slightly choking in mid-sentence (“so Ms. Jones, when you say [*ack*] you are depressed, etc.”). So I finally took my own advice about learning to be more assertive and would say, “I’m so embarrassed to say this, as your perfume is really quite good, but I have an acute sense of smell, and it would be better to come in without your good perfume. Please forgive the rudeness.” Although I was uncomfortable, and she would be a little embarrassed, my “new” assertiveness has set me free. Thus, at the end of a fine supper you might say to your MIL (and perhaps with your wife in attendance): “Gertrude, I am massively uncomfortable in saying this, but it really makes me uncomfortable when you exit the bathroom without much on. Please forgive the rudeness [although it’s obviously not rude], but if you could throw something on, it sure would alleviate my discomfort”. It’s a gentle but assertive way of telling someone to stop being goony. If she can’t stop being a bizarro exhibitionist, stay away from the bathroom when she’s dressing (or undressing). Perhaps your wife will benefit from your new-found gentle assertiveness and eventually learn to speak up for her husband when she needs to. Clearly, she needs to.

Hey John,
I am married with three kids. They are nice children. My husband of twenty years is a great husband. Although we are not particularly wealthy, it would seem that our difficult poor days are behind us. With all this good stuff in my life I still find myself being negative about things. These are things that go wrong, but my take on them is too negative. This isn’t depression, but what? Age? I don’t yell at my son about his homework, but it seems like an extra burden for me. Reading to my youngest daughter seems a chore as of late. How do you stop looking on the stressful side of so many events taking place?
Ms. Gustine Grim
 
Dear GG,
Many of us parents would agree that the above named chores can be taxing. However, it is possible you are engaging in quick thinking. That is, quickly considering a situation and deciding it’s worth (and stressful effort). A repetitive chore is often a drag. However, expanding your consideration for a little longer may reveal something you hadn’t seen. Your daughter will never be 14 years old, sitting on the bed, mesmerized by the story you are telling her. So the deeper truth is: tick, tick, tick toots; you’re almost out of time. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever. This is the process of reframing. It’s not looking at a half- full or empty glass and it’s not putting a positive spin on an event: it’s seeing the truth in a situation.
Reframing is the mental art of looking at situations deeper, longer, and usually more accurately.  It is sometimes almost a magical ability of altering an aggravation into something meaningful.  It also provides one the opportunity to add a large measure of gratitude for events usually hardly ever noticed.  The most efficient method of learning this important mental art is through example and continual practice. Again, reframing is The Truth about the situation.
The man was complaining:  “My new step kids are always running a few minutes late and often miss the bus.  As their mom has already left, it’s then my duty to pack them up and drive them to school.  It’s like they’re doing it on purpose, and it hacks me off in a big way”.  Upon deeper reflection, he realized: “You know, I think they’re missing the bus on purpose because they want to spend more time with me.  We usually rock on the way to school and have a fun time.  Oh man, they’re doing this to get to spend time with me and to show me off.  I think I’ll tell them if they get the bus on time on Monday, I’ll drive them the rest of the week. Showing ME off. Ha! It’s cool.” To continue with examples of applying a reframe to a situation:
 
            The husband would leave work, get home, have supper with his wife, and then settle down to watch a little TV or type out an e-mail to the kids. 
Reframe:  “I’m just a no big deal guy, and I’ve got this fine loving woman anxiously awaiting my arrival.  Plus, she’s been working like a dog cooking up something delicious just for me!  How incredible is that?  If I could have seen this in a crystal ball when I was 18, I would’ve freaked out. It’s amazing”
 
Situation:  The mother started to run angrily outside as soon as she saw her young kids getting playing in the mud.
Reframe:  “These babies will soon be fussin’ over their hair and broken fingernails.  This time is going to be short lived. I think I’ll go out and get the hose and make more mud for them.  I’m going to encourage them to make some nasty old mud pies and get every atom on their bodies dirty.  I’ll have fun hosing them down afterwards”.
 
Situation:  After a long day at work, Daddy was not exactly in the mood to sit down and do homework with the kids.  Although he was a mediocre student with “spotty” homework completions back in the day, his kids ought to be able to get their homework done by themselves.
Reframe:  “The only thing my parents could have done to guarantee I’d do my homework would have been to sit down and do it with me.   Hmmm…..  Additionally, if my fourth grade son doesn’t understand what he’s doing in class, the only way to assure he’s going to pass is for me to review the chapter myself for a few minutes , then I’ll be his patient teacher.  Plus, I’ll give him some permanent memories of the two of us having significant times together, and I’ll be teaching him how to be a fine father himself someday”.
 
Situation: He suffers from FlatTire-a-Phobia: fear of a flat tire in an old Suburban where the spare is impossibly stored underneath the car. As he turned into his driveway, his car lurched: a flat tire! Aiieee! As bad words formed in his head and blood pressure quickly rose, a greater truth appeared to him.....
Reframe: Although he loathed flat tires, if there was any place on earth to get one, it would be right here, in his driveway, 20 feet from his compressor and extension hose. The perfect place for a flat. Ahhhhh....
 
(The Classic Toilet Seat Reframe)
Situation: “Why should I (the male) put the stupid seat down when I’m done if they don’t put it up when they’re done?!”
Reframe:  “I love getting 10 points of credit from women for putting out 1 point of effort! It’s important to her? Cool. This one’s a piece of cake”.
 
Situation:  Although she had said goodnight to her two children (in the same room) she heard them whispering back and forth to each other in the dark.  Her first thought was “they’re purposely disobeying me when I told them to go to sleep.”
Reframe:  These sweet babies.  They love each other’s company so much they want to talk with each other late into the night.  It won’t be long before they have their own houses far away from each other and won’t be able to ever do this again.  Let ‘em whisper to each other until they fall asleep.
 
This is not to be mistaken for a “make something good out of something terrible” type of silliness.  There are some very difficult circumstances that are not reframeable.  Still, a vast majority of our lives bear a deeper look.  A two year old daughter begging to be held in the arms of her tired parent might be a chore, but a deeper look would reveal a very temporary opportunity to hold our child in our arms before they grow too big to ever be held by us again.  Sometimes, all it takes is a deeper look to see the importance of a situation. Practice plenty and ye shall reap the rewards of a life properly appreciated.

Hey John,
A few months ago I was in an art competition with a fairly good sized group of people. I couldn’t help but take notice that many of the artists’ spouses were in attendance, providing encouragement and friendly company. So half way through my project I called my husband to ask him if he would like to come down and keep me company (it’s a ten minute drive). He told me he would rather watch TV. When my artist neighbor commented that perhaps he was excited about an Olympic event, I told her he just wanted to watch golf. Then I excused myself, went to the bathroom and cried. Is this all there is to an aging marriage? Do I even hope for an improvement? I am both married and lonely, and I don’t know what to do.
Sad Artist
 
Dear Ms. Renoir,
There are two answers. The first, although it is a little absurd, would likely be most effective. The second is more traditional, and might still help.
You could “slip him a mickey” (knockout drink), and handcuff him to a comfortable chair. Then you could force him to watch good movies with men who are loving, protective, and chivalrous. A few come to mind: Humphrey Bogart ("Bogey") in The African Queen is a fine start. Gregory Peck? John Wayne? You know, good examples of chivalrous, manly behavior. However, as he is into lazyass, belly-scratchin’ self-centered behavior, a traditional approach might be more effective.
 
Tell GolfDog you need to talk to him about something serious. The TV must be off (have him consult the manufacturer’s instruction manual as to how to do it). I like to begin a marriage enhancing/fixing session with getting a view of the past. What attracted you to this girl? When did you decide to get serious with her? What were some things about her that surprised or amazed you? What type of dates did y’all go on when you were first dating? Did you impress her in any way   (even accidentally)? Back in the day, maybe the second date, if she had called you to come see her, would you have said “no, I have to watch golf and scratch my armpits”? Feel free to re-phrase the last suggestion. Close with this bone chilling statement: “I am lonely”.
 
Many times such behavior is mindless laziness, not intentional disrespect. Couples need to work at continuing to impress each other as we grow older with each other. It’s easy early in our relationship, but it takes effort as we get older. Whoever is the most with-it needs to provide guidance to the other. And conversely the “other” needs to take it to heart, and work consistently at keeping his loved one in love with him. Plus, I bet your art work gets better as he gets better. I sincerely hope he can.

Hey John,
I have a terrible problem, and I know I need a lawyer, not a counselor. But I can’t afford a lawyer, and you’re free when you are HeyJohn. My ex-husband “B” and I have had an ongoing war about the custody of our seven year old daughter. I live in Texas, and he lives in Louisiana. He hates my current boyfriend (and hates me too). He knows Jorge smokes pot. I used to as well, but haven’t smoked much in the last few years. He called child welfare and said our daughter was in danger because of drugs. They said I had to give them a urine analysis or they would take my daughter. My pee test came up clean. So then they said they wanted to do a hair follicle test. I showed trace amounts of THC. I had smoked a little a week or two before and it showed up on that super sensitive test. My bad ex took me back to court a month later, and the judge gave him primary custody of our little girl. I never had any arrest, charges or anything. Do you think that is fair? I’m going crazy without her, I miss her so much. What can I do?
Crying Mom
 
Dear Crying,
In this format, I do not have the opportunity to ask some important questions. To clarify the situation, I’d ask:

1. Have you had “Child Welfare” in your life before? If so, why?
2. Is smoking the weed a precursor to other drug use? Have you had a problem with drugs (/alcohol) since your daughter was born?
3. Any priors with the law?

I have more questions, but rather, let’s take your letter on face value (in other words, “no” to all three questions). Is it proper to remove a child from a family because a parent has smoked marijuana? From a legal standpoint, as I was kicked out of law school after my first year, I don’t know the answer. I do know, however, a parent receiving a first offense DWI/DUI (no kids in the car) would likely not lose their kids due to this first misdemeanor offense. If they did, all my hundreds and hundreds of DWI students over the years would be childless. Thus, from a moral standpoint, it would seem that such a child- parent life altering decision based on a non-arrest pot smoking situation would be on extremely shaky grounds. It makes me hope, in some bizarre way that there were other serious circumstances involved. Otherwise, this would be a travesty of justice.
 
As to what to do, I would first seek out free legal aid from my town, as this is likely now a legal issue. If they won’t help, get a referral from them. If I could not get help, I would write a brief, concise letter to all local news publications. Here we have BrownwoodNews.com , the Brownwood Bulletin, the Abilene Reporter News and the Ft. Worth Star Telegram. Follow the publication’s instructions as to not exceed the maximum length. Next, work on your own physical and mental health. See her as much as you are allowed. Keep the visits upbeat and fun for her. No complaining or crying (from you). We need to put up a good front on our children’s behalf to keep them as worry-free as we can. Do not deal with your sadness with chemicals, especially alcohol. Anti-depressants can help, as might SHORT TERM use of an anxiety medication. If you are a church attendee, it would seem like an especially good time to re-connect. Consistent exercise can also be very helpful, as it gives a sense of accomplishment and control as well as endorphin release in the body.
 
I am not suggesting smoking marijuana is great for parenting, but it sure as hell is not so dangerous that a child should be removed. I wish you perseverance. May your love of your child bring the best outcome for her.

Hey John,
I am a married father with two kids, a boy and a girl. My daughter just turned 14, and is a good kid. Although she complains about her chores, she does them. She is also a good student. She tried sports, but didn’t like it much. She is currently in band, and likes it okay. The problem is this: I was a budding troubled kid at 14. I was starting to smoke a little weed and was a mediocre student at best. Although I was never in trouble with the law (mainly because I didn’t get caught), I graduated near the bottom of my class. I wasn’t sexually active, but I sure wanted to be. Now we fast forward to the 21st century, and things are very different. The kids are less restrained, I’m guessing due to outside influences and lazy parenting. I find myself being too restrictive on her because I don’t want her turning into me. Will she? I think that a lot of fathers are worried their girls will be a 16 year old, pregnant, pot smoking lost child. In my case, if she turns out like I was, it might come true. How do I keep that from happening?
Was Lost and Want To Be Found
 
Dear Lost and Found,
As I don’t have all the family facts here, I will need to generalize some. If you have a good marriage, the teaming up of a Mom and Dad increase the chances of success. Obviously there are plenty of single parents raising good kids, but competent double-teaming is a big advantage. You need to know that in addition to self esteem building activities, competently dealing with her screw ups are immensely important. Learning from our mistakes is an inescapable part of learning right from wrong and accountability. That’s HER mistakes, not yours . Some parents think they’ll keep their children from being like they were by confessing their early mistakes to their kids. Kids never learn from their parents experiences, only their own. I usually advise parents to keep their sordid past to themselves. Try to treat her errors in judgment (which she will have) as a chance to teach her, not merely punish her. Also, acknowledging the good stuff is at least as important. We need to be appropriately cautious, but allow her to do things that are important to her.
Remember, she is a genetic product of you and her mother, not just you. And it’s y’all raising her, not your Mom and Dad. Different parents, different kid. Finally, at the risk of self promotion, I really like the essay on Fathers and Daughters. Read if you are so inclined at: http://www.johnsommercounseling.com/fathers-and-daughters.html.
 
Work hard, have some fun and teach her the best you can. She’s not living at home with you for long. Take advantage of your time together.

Hey John,
Many years ago I saw a harsh movie: Sophie’s Choice. In it the nasty old Nazi’s made a mother decide which one of her young daughter’s was going to live, and which one they would execute right there. She was horrified, but finally chose to save daughter #2, so they killed her and let daughter #1 live. I am in a situation that is sort of like that.
 
I am married to a good man. I have three grown children, but my 22 year old son is the big problem. He had been in and out of juvenile detention when he was younger. Now that he’s on adult probation (drugs and assault), he wants to come live with me. Every time he moves back in, something goes really wrong. Last year he stole some of my jewelry, and pawned two of my husband’s expensive guns. About eight months ago, he got into a fist fight with my husband and beat him badly. He broke his nose, knocked out some teeth and tore his ear. He is now back on drugs and has no place to stay. He’s pleading with me to move in with us. He tells me he’ll “be on the streets and dead” without us. In our town, there is no homeless shelter. He tells me he will be dead in a few weeks if we don’t let him move in.
 
I love my husband, but I also love my son. I feel like I can’t just abandon him and maybe have him die. How do you stop loving your child and just watch them die? I don’t know what to do.
Sophie
 
Dear Soph,
You are certainly in a pickle. However, the problem really isn’t your son- it’s you. I have had to ask more than one parent with a difficult choice to make regarding their child: “Are you doing this to help out and protect your child, or are you doing it because you are scared that they will be mad at you?” Maternal (and paternal) feelings are powerful; however, not helping your child because you are scared is not maternal. In this case it would be choosing fear rather than your child. I would continue delaying your proclamation to him for a few days (him sleeping outside is rarely deadly) while you work quickly to do the following:

1. Find out if there are shelters in your town or in nearby cities. Write down their names, addresses and phone numbers.
2. Locate treatment centers nearby with the same info.
3. Pack him a half a dozen well wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to hold him over. Toss in a couple of tasty Hostess cupcakes while you’re at it.
4. Give him a list of your research, the grub and a kiss on the cheek.

 
As you have stated he is on probation, he is either not showing up (aka: absconding from probation), or he just hasn’t given them a dirty u/a yet. Either way, using while on probation always ends badly. This isn’t Sophie’s Choice my dear, as you are not being forced to choose one over the other. In this case you can be a devoted wife and a loving mother at the same time. Overcome your fear and take care of both these men in your life.

Hey John,
Now that my kids have reached the age that their compliance to my wishes is challenged, are there parenting ideas to get teens to be less resistant to my parental requests? A recent example: my daughter wanted to go into town to the local carnival. I told her as long as her room was cleaned, she could go. When her two friends arrived ready to leave, I looked in her room, and it was its normal pigsty self. We had a medium fuss, but I reluctantly let her go anyway. I was angry all weekend, and thought there must be a better way to do this. Ideas?
Perturbed Parent
 
Dear PP,
First and foremost, a parent needs to train themselves to anticipate what’s going to happen. This one would have been an easy one to predict. So the carnival deal was cut on Thursday, Friday morning and after school, the parent might have reminded their sloppy teen that the carnival was looming. THEN, it’s time to whip out the Parental Mighty Martial Arts Technique.
 
I was 17 and made the mistake of calling my friend's judo tournament a karate tournament. He quickly admonished me and told me there were virtually no similarities between the two martial arts. He further lectured me: "Karate is for animals. It's meet-force-with-force. You block and strike back. Judo however is a real martial art. You take the attacking person's energy and move with them to disable them. That's why a 100 lb. woman can completely disable a 300 lb. attacker. It's a lot of throws rather than blows".
I have incorporated young Mr. Kawaguichi's summary into my own work with children, especially teens. Rather than attacking an issue or disagreement head on (force with force), it is far more efficient with the going-with-the-energy approach. A child complains to his father than he had said he was going to shoot some hoops with him after supper, but the Dad had to sweep out the garage first. The judo approach was to ask the son for a solution to the dilemma, as he (the Dad) definitely wanted to play, and daylight was running out. The boy suggested he could help the Dad do the sweeping, as long as the Dad promised to shoot hoops, even if got dark. Perfect.
A daughter, returning home on vacation from her first semester from college was concerned about curfews. In her first semester in college, she had no curfew, and didn't want to be treated like a baby at home. A karate approach would be to tell her tough luck: deal with it. The judo approach was to address her objections and figure out a solution. “I agree that a curfew seems to be a step backward. However, when your mother gets up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and you’re not back, she’ll never get back to sleep. What shall we do?” It was finally agreed that regardless of how late she anticipated coming home, even 3 A.M., she would keep her self-imposed "curfew". If she had decided to spend the night at the friend's house, she would call no later than 1:00. The family later reported that although they were initially nervous about the compromise, she kept her word. As a side note, they were amused that despite the no-curfew agreement, she was usually home around midnight.
In your case, after the return from school, the parent might have lovingly (vs. threateningly) told the daughter, “your friends are going to be here at 7. I’ve got a few extra minutes to chip in and help you clean your room. May I provide you some assistance?” Then make it as much of an enjoyable experience as you can. Try to avoid predictable responses such as, “Oh my GOD! This old piece of pizza has enough mold to start a penicillin factory!!”  Just make her glad she asked you to help her out. In the event she refused your kind help and still didn’t keep her agreement, we now move into the proper accountability stage. However, that’s another topic for another inquiry. Obviously there are times when the parent has to pull out the because-I-told-you-so card, but the joy of dealing with issues by going with the other person's “energy” by adding a few twists or flips of our own is the superior martial art of parenting.
 
You will find yourself a bit inept at this brand of martial arts for a while, but as in judo (or karate for that matter), it takes practice to get good. If we expect our kids to improve, then so should we. In time, you may earn your fifth degree black belt in the Parental Mighty Martial Arts Technique.

Ok  y’all, let’s have a little talk here. I could make an additional career criticizing a millionaire “advice” columnist. Out of fairness, most issues she writes about are pretty lightweight, and she does ok. But the reality is, if your opinion is important to someone and carries some credibility, you are obligated to not let your own bias’ or personal preferences color your advice. More directly, you need to not be a knucklehead and screw somebody up. “For instance?” you might ask? Well folks, this is Crabigail’s column from August, 2018. Excuse the paraphrasing, but I’ll try to be accurate. Go ahead, sit down. Don’t read this while you’re driving.
 
Dear Ms. Crabby,
I’ve been married to my husband for 28 years. My (female) friend has been married for 30. Recently she gave me a soft kiss on the neck. I didn’t respond, but I can’t stop thinking about her. Can two straight women jump ship and fall in love with each other? Oh, Obi Wan, please help me. Tell me what to do.
Kissee
 
[Crabby’s abbreviated  response]
Dear Ms Kissee,
Yes, people of the same sex can fall for each other. I can’t tell you what to do. “Much will depend on what she has to say…..”
_________________________
 
[Sound of brakes slamming on: screeeeech!]. WHAT did you just say? Is that some mutated misprint? Ok Crabs, for the sake of equality, let’s change the genders around. “My film director came over and gave me a sloppy kiss on the neck. He knows how long I’ve been married. Is it ok for me to fall in love with him? Crabby, does he seem like a good guy to you? Should I leave my husband and kids for him? I sure could use your most important guidance. Do you think “much will depend upon what he has to say”?
 
So Jeannie, aka Dear Crabby Jr., at least consider this:
 
Dear Kissee,
At what point do we surrender to temptation? What did you teach your kids about using drugs? What about early sexual activity? Did you try to instill principles to help them make conscientious decisions? Was it something like, “son, if a meth pipe appears at a party, you’re going to be faced with a decision. Should you just turn and leave?  Should you use because other people are? Or use because you are tempted? We all face some tough decisions in our lives. I hope you make decisions that are consistent with your beliefs.”
 Or something like that.
It seems like when Crabby addresses  Kissee’s same-sex question, perhaps she thinks that taking a position might be viewed as anti-same sex. So instead you advise her to wait until hot lips makes a decision about her? Most people make more competent decisions when they make them their selves.
You might want to also suggest that she have a little “needs love” discussion with husband of 28 years. She doesn’t have to bust hot lips, just have a loving talk with her husband. I’d hate to think that after 28 years, my wife and I couldn’t have meaningful discussions with each other. If she wants to jump the fence with neckkisser, she’s got lots of time to do it. Let’s try some problem solving first.
 
So Crabigail, it shouldn’t be all about the money. You may be pulling in a bunch of cash, but it is supposed to be about helping people. You don’t always have to be people’s moral compass, but you’re sure as hell not supposed to do harm. Some letters may be light and simple, but some are life-changingly serious. My unsolicited advice is add some people to your staff who have their feet squarely planted on the ground. Then you can get some additional ideas to consider. Either that or take your inappropriate big bucks and retire. Then do what your mother should have done and retire the name too.

Hey John,
I have two problems. Actually, I have more like eleven hundred of them, but here are two of them. I have a pretty strange family. I am distant from them, so I don’t see them very often. They have a world of problems. My kid sister (in her twenties) is either anorexic or bulimic. I don’t really know the difference. She’s skinny as a pale toothpick, but won’t eat hardly anything. The next one up the ladder is my brother who’s hugely overweight, and will eat you out of house and home. My next in line sister is a serial divorcer. She believes in marriage before you have children; so each one of her four children has a different father. She divorced all four of them. She is currently setting up number five.
Even though this is a pretty dysfunctional family, everyone is an okay person. No thieves or murderers out of the four of us. When we get together, we normally get along pretty well, at least for a while. Not seeing each other but every couple of years probably helps too. Believe it or not, they’re really not the problem. My problem is my best friend. A couple of weeks ago he was over having a couple of beers with me. Everything was chill. Then he starts up. “So how’s your family in Utah? Your sister, how’s she doing? When I asked, “which sister are you talking about?” he says: “You know: the one who starves herself even though she looks like a stick.” Then he continues with talking trash (but it’s all accurate) about each sibling. “Your giant brother: doesn’t he know he’s a heart attack on a plate? And your sister: is she still competing with Elizabeth Taylor’s marriage record?” Etc., etc. etc. I was looking forward to a nice evening with my friend, and Mr. Ultimate Buzzkill screwed it all up. Is there anything I can do with my friendship?
Unhappy Friend
 
Dear Mr. Friend,
Allow me address your question at the end of my answer. In the meantime, you have experienced a strange, though common phenomenon I term, Being Forced To Defend Someone You Don’t Want To Defend. I first discovered this in working with abused women. They would unleash their anger and fear of their abuser to me. As a young therapist I would listen and try to take it all in. Some of the abuse was beyond comprehension. But as my style is interactive, I would eventually comment something like, “when in your relationship did Mike turn into a monster?” I would then be met with an explanation that he once was the love of her life. Or perhaps that he is a good father, or.......... I quickly realized that I was “making” the woman defend this creep by saying something negative about him. Then she missed her next appointment.
 
I quickly realized that it is a typical response to defend someone you know, especially family, when they are getting’ dogged. This is like some kind of involuntary reflex. The maddening part of this is, the person on the receiving end may be thoroughly disgusted by this person – and then they are compelled to defend them. Talk about making a person crazy! Angry ex-spouses do it all the time. Teenage girls talk smack about their friend’s friend with extreme frequency. How about your husband trashin’ your family? The examples are endless. They are also improper. Your wife is having a hard time with her mother? Learn to be sympathetic, and keep your trap shut. Don’t “make” her defend someone she’s angry at. Why would you? Help her out.
 
So Mister Friend, you may need to instruct your friend, Mr. U. Buzzkill to keep his opinion of your siblings to himself. I doubt if it was done with malice, but we can help our friends rise above their stupidity. Take a calm stand, speak up and save your friendship.

Hey John,
I was raised by a white, middle class family in a medium-size city. I am a college graduate and in a fairly successful business. I have had the opportunity to invest some of our savings into a few rental properties; and there lies my problem. I was raised without any form of prejudice. In fact, I found myself distancing myself from adult friends as they began to drop lousy racial bombs. I would have never tolerated my sons from using such hateful language. However, something is changing in me. All three of my rental properties are being rented by black families. Although not super expensive, these are not low rent duplexes. I am constantly appalled by the condition of my properties when they leave. My last renter (of 9 years!) left so much damage as well as crap behind; it is costing me $12,000 to fix it back up. Another renter left not only their broken furniture, but a garage stacked almost to the ceiling with junk. She even left bags of untouched groceries rotting on the kitchen table! You’ve heard “everything but the kitchen sink”? Another renter took the kitchen sink. I find myself beginning to harbor a dislike for blacks, and I don’t want to be like this. Any ideas?
Fuming in Ft. Worth
 
Dear Mr. Fume,
It sure might have been easier for you had you been born a bigot. Clearly however, that is not the case. I agree with you that you are indeed in a pickle. I used to harbor some degree of “slob prejudice” against the extremely poor. Plenty of low rent places look like junk. Trash in their yard, along with a broken down car or two. Grass and weeds to your knees, etc. Years ago when I was working for the public mental health agency, another counselor and I were sent to a woman’s home who was threatening suicide with some big scissors. We were obviously on the “poor side of town”. Her scared husband met us at the door and escorted us in. My partner and I settled her down, and sat and visited with the rest of the family. This house was so immaculate you could have eaten off the floor. The yard was equally as impressive. They wanted to offer us a coke, but the electricity had just been turned back on two hours before, so everything was still warm. I remember being quietly embarrassed that I had expected nastiness, and instead was greeted with extreme cleanliness.
I don’t know why plenty of people have no self pride or the proper morals to not hurt other people: in this case you. Obviously, as in my scissor case, it’s not only poverty. However, like you, I would seriously object to a group of people changing my world view. You are not asking me renting advice, of which I would be an amateur. So asking first month’s rent, last month’s rent and a substantial damage deposit seems unnecessary for me to mention. As would me suggesting requiring an occasional walk-through to keep renters on their toes. Professional background checks also seem a worthy investment. But enough renters’ advise, of which I have only limited experience. As with people I counsel who work with soul-sucking clientele, I will generally advise them to expand their people base, including socially. Pay attention to minorities who appear to be great human beings. Patient mothers in a store with nice children in tow are inspirational. Hard working men doing talented work are worth carefully noting. People you know, or knew back in the day that are memorable are reminders that not all minorities are sink-stealing slugs. My deceased friend Charles was likely the most talented child counselor I have ever met. I have not forgotten him or his example. Personally, if you are going to stay in the renting business, fight for your right to have your own view of life. You can seriously dislike dishonest people: one shithead at a time. Don’t let crappo people represent all of mankind. They only represent their own sorryass selves.

 
Hey John,
What do I do about my mother who is always late? No matter what’s going on: Thanksgiving, going shopping, having coffee, anything, she’s always 40 minutes late. I have tried everything I know of. I’ve left without her (a bad idea), begged her, stopped making plans with her, everything. I even offered to get her counseling. She went once and told me her counselor was 40 minutes late! What do I do? She really screws up the timetable of anything I want to do with her.
Counting The Minutes
 
Dear Ms. Minutes,
Please allow me to boil this down to its essence: “What can I do to change someone else?” And, to make matters worse, it’s your Mom. All of us are aware of the difficulty of making significant changes in our own lives. To force a change on an unwilling subject is likely to be met with frustration and a lack of success.
It sounds like you spend a fair amount of time with your Mom. I wish I had the opportunity to do the same. As it appears this is not a relationship-threatening issue, but rather an ongoing irritation, I make the following suggestions:
* Don’t tell your Mom you are doing this.
* Make your plans to deal with the handicap. If she was wheelchair bound, you would not plan a hike in the mountains. However, a wheelchair accessible outdoor activity might be great. If she was massively sight-impaired, the movie theater might not be enjoyable for her. She sure might enjoy a concert with the music of her choice though. Thus, with this “time-impairment” handicap, learn to make the adjustment. Consider secretly making the 40 minute adjustment for all of y’alls activities. She’s a lucky woman to have a daughter who spends so much time with her. Make it equally enjoyable for yourself by acknowledging her “issue” as a handicap rather than her lack of consideration. Enjoy your time together. Our lives together are fleeting.
 
 

Hey John,
My husband has really terrible oral hygiene. He has for all of our marriage. The first ten years or so it was ok because I love him, and he is a wonderful love maker. He still is, but I have become more sensitive to his gross mouth. Sometimes it’s like kissing a toilet seat, at least what I think it would be like to kiss one. Gross. But I truly love him. He is kind and generous, a hard worker, and like I said before, he’s a wonderful lover.  Any ideas?
Holding My Breath
 
Dear Breathless,
One of the (many) problems of bad oral hygiene is that to begin to improve, there is a degree of suffering involved. When I was working in residential treatment, the kids NEVER brushed their teeth. When I bought them super soft tooth brushes out of my disgracefully meager paycheck, we had a near bloodbath. Gums get soggy, and the rest is obvious. Consider showing him this letter of yours and offer a kind solution. Perhaps making back-to-back appointments for you both with a good dentist might alleviate a little fear. Let your dentist know ahead of time what the situation is. The new electric toothbrushes seem to be gentle but thorough. Brush y’alls teeth together morning and night. Maybe some rewarding him with good kisses after brushing might reinforce the new behavior. Defeating old nasty habits is a multi-year effort. I hope you can help him. If he isn’t motivated, I’d get a small face mask from your dentist (or other medical friends), draw some good lookin’ lips on it with your lipstick and tell him love making sounds great: just no more kissing. If I was a wonderful lover, I'd sure need to be able to kiss my girl. That would sure motivate ME.