Hey John,
 My grandfather has been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer and has less than a month to live. I am already having a hard time coming to grips with the inevitable, but I am wondering about how I approach this subject with my 3 and 4 year old children. We are going to visit him before he passes here in a week or so, and my children only know there papaw is really sick. I don't plan on explaining too much to them do to their ages, but if they ask how would you suggest to go about it?
 
 Thank you,
A Lost Soul
 
Ms. Soul,
Your question was regarding the kid’s upcoming sad days rather than your own, so to that I comment. The fact is, little kids can feel the sadness, but not as intensely, nor for as long as we do. Don’t expect them to necessarily grieve much. Additionally, at this tender age, the chances are they may not have much memory of your beloved Grandfather as time goes on. I believe we can pay proper tribute to important people by sharing pictures and stories throughout the upcoming years. In this manner you can derive some comfort in recalling your Grandpa while helping your kids to have a memory of his importance in your life.
 
There is also the significance in our own grief that reflects the greatness and great fortune in knowing and loving the person we have just lost. Refer back to the March 24th column of this year (http://www.brownwoodnews.com/hey-john-advice-column-grief-process/ ) to read about a person trying to properly deal with losing her Mother. If lessening our sorrow meant lessening our relationship and memories, which would you rather have? It sounds like your Grandpa was as lucky to have you for his granddaughter as you were to have him.

HeyJohn,
I am writing you because I am so depressed. My Grandmother died a year ago, and I have really had a hard time with it. A few weeks ago I went over to a friend’s house, and she was making cookies for her kids. Every time I smell cookies cooking, especially sugar cookies, I think about making cookies with Grammy. I got so sad, I had to leave my friend’s house crying. To make matters worse, I was using a cheap mascara, so when I got home, my face looked awful and a little scary. It was terrible. I miss her so much, and remembering that I had her arrested a few months before she died makes me even more sad. What can I do to stop being so depressed?
Cookie
 
Dear Cookie,
First let me say I really like your name, especially in light of your letter. I am sorry for the death of your grandmother. She sounds like she was a very different kind of involved grandparent. Try a new strategy to help you: stop trying to not be sad. Work at enjoying thinking back about memorable experiences with her. Get a friend or good family member to exchange stories about her. Be grateful that your suffering means you had wonderful memories with her. I mean, except for having her arrested of course…. I could use an additional note about that one.

As a therapist (and part time writer), here's some of the issues I deal with about this time of year:
* "Although I am not ultra-religious, my brother is an angry religion hater. At Easter time he likes to tell my young kids that Easter is when we celebrate the day the Easter bunny was born." ~or~
* At the annual Easter egg hunt, dumb bunny parents are yelling at their kids! ~or~
* "I love to serve lamb for Easter meal. My 'rural' cousin, just before the blessing will always say, 'ewww, mutton? Who ever eats a smelly sheep?!'"
______________________________
Three issues? So whatever shall I do? So I made a mature and well thought out decision as to which issue to address: I flipped a coin.
Happy Easter everyone.
ps  It's really not the celebration of the birth of the Easter bunny......

Hey John,
This past weekend I took my two girls to a local park for the annual Easter egg hunt. It was pretty well organized and quite crowded. It was divided into age groups to make it more fun for the kids. Both of my girls found a bunch of eggs full of candy, and they had a good time. The problem was with me. I was really bummed out by the behavior of some of the parents. Some of the mothers were screaming orders out to their little kids in order that they could find more eggs. One mother was yelling, “Billy! BILLY! Turn to your left! NO!! YOUR LEFT!! Oh for God’s sake”. Another mother admonished her six year old, “is that all the candy you got?!”
My question is, should I tell these parents to be joyful for their kids, me just be quiet, or simply not take my kids back?
Easter Blues
 
Dear Bluey,
It is unfortunately a reality that some of these parents belong in cages, not in public places. Doing “free counseling” with knuckleheaded parents can be helpful, but can also result in angry, inappropriate responses. The real question is: did your kids enjoy themselves? If they were blissfully unaware of the tightly wound noisy parents, and were pleased with participating in the event, it would seem that future participation may be good for them. Personally, I would go down to the local hardware store and buy a pair of those squishy little earplugs. As the event begins, put them in and try to focus on your children. You can unplug yourself just as the event is ending. You sound like a kind and loving mother. I hope your Easter was joyful.

HeyJohn,
I am an eighteen year old girl living in a bad house. I never met my Dad, and my Mom ran off with another woman a few years ago, and I haven’t seen her since. I’m living with my Grandmother, and this is like living in a homeless shelter or a nut house. My thirty year old cousin and his meth-shooting girlfriend are taking one of the rooms in this house. Last month my boyfriend set up his PlayStation 4 in my room for us to play. A few days later, when I got back from school, it was gone. I asked everyone who took it, and of course no one admitted anything. Later I found the pawn ticket in my nasty cousin’s bedroom. When I showed it to my grandmother she said, “Well, for God’s sake, if you want it back, go pay off the pawn ticket!”  I told her since she’s letting these skanks live in our house, she should pay for it. She got really mad at me and started yelling. I went down to the pawn shop, paid $90.00 to get it back, and brought it back to my boyfriend’s house. I’m worried he will stop liking me because he’s discovered what a screwed up family I have. Do you have any ideas to help me stop suffering?
White Sheep Of The Family
 
Dear Sheepy,
I know it’s not this easy, but four little letters will eventually bring you some peace of mind: M-O-V-E. Although you presumably have a few months before you graduate, and thus will likely have to stay in the Nut Hut for a while longer, start making plans for what will follow graduation. College bound? Make an appointment to see financial aid and see if they have loans, or better yet, grants for disadvantaged youth. There are also very well regarded vocational schools (one in Texas is TSTC). Job Corp can be cool, as can Americorp. Training for virtually free? What an opportunity. Going to stay local? See if you can access the bulletin board at your local college to see if there are other girls looking for roommates.
The bottom line is this: you can’t change dysfunctional people, especially when they see no need to improve. We can, however, succeed in our own lives. It takes some effort, but so what? Would you rather voluntarily live in misery? Not me. I hope not you either.
p.s. As a relationship enhancer, keep your boyfriend away from the House of Weirdness. You are right to be concerned he might get scared by the level of dysfunction at Granny’s House of Horrors. Additionally, don’t always use him as your therapist. There are lots of counselors to be found. Boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to have fun together, share dreams with each other, and generally enjoy each other’s company. Search for a counselor for counseling if you are so inclined.
Get after it, kid. You sound like you have a lot of potential. Break on thru to the other side.
 
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_State_Technical_College
https://www.jobcorps.gov/
https://www.nationalservice.gov/programs/americorps/join-americorps

[Please see essay below for Part I]
In college I didn’t major in Pornography Studies or anything. I did take a class in Human Sexuality however, as I thought it might be a good place to meet girls. But that didn’t pan out. All I got out of it was a copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves, and a C+. Thus, what I know about the subject of pornography I have learned from my forty years of counseling. I never thought it was the world’s greatest activity, but I was somewhat neutral about the subject. However, the world has changed, and one of those changes is the intensity of what is out there. This ain’t your grandpa’s nekkid pinups no more. So here are a few real life cases. The facts are altered enough to keep the people anonymous, but the situations are real.
•I thought when I saw this young couple (19?) they were coming in for some relationship enhancement. Instead, shortly into our visit she said, “Will you tell him I am sick of his sexual punishment?” Yow! So into our time together, I learned that he received his “sex education” by watching triple X movies. This was pre-internet, so he had to drive with a few friends about an hour to watch lots of hardcore porn. As a result, that’s what he thought sex with his girlfriend was supposed to be. Even though she objected, his overly assertive personality won out. I saw her years after their predictable break up, and she felt she was still scarred by the extreme sex he had with her.
•Years later a husband began our session by asking, “if she has had her teeth professionally whitened, and is getting breast implants, do you think it’s reasonable for me to assume she’s making plans to leave me?” Before I could respond, she said, “Why in the hell would I stay? You are in love with all those hoes you spend time with on your computer. Mr. Sommer, I have asked him for months to come to bed with me, and instead he stays with his internet hoes. I can’t compete with all the sex stuff that they do. Our sex life hasn’t existed for at least six months. Also, do you think it’s okay that he accidentally left the porn site up, and our thirteen year old son moved the mouse in the morning and sees oral sex happening?” Although he profusely apologized for the kid incident, he made no reassurances he would, or even could cease his porn watch. I received a letter from him a few years later informing me she had permanently left a few days after our meeting. He hadn’t seen the kids in over two years.
•A concerned mother called me asking for me to help her daughter. She thought her son-in-law was “addicted to porn”. I told her I would be fine in consulting with her daughter, but she had to initiate the call. Five minutes later she called. Crying, she said they were living at the job site, and if she went to his boss for help, her husband would likely lose his job and their housing. She continued. “even though he is well paid, we can’t afford his nine-hundred dollar a month bill from the porn sites”. I was so stunned, I asked her to repeat her last sentence. Nine hundred dollars?! Uh oh. This represents a different level of pornography. Is her husband watching snuff films where the sexual abuse becomes lethal? Infant sexual abuse? This one really sent me reeling. I’m experienced enough not to play my hand to the extent where the person asking for help is hurt by my response, but I had to tell her that this is a whole new world of extremes. My parting advice was to ask for outside help to motivate her husband to seek help, in this case possibly inpatient. This issue mixed with what his job was meant he would lose his job without the help, so get the help while it’s still available. I never heard back from her.
•He was thirteen when he talked the neighbor’s younger boys into trying some sex. He had both oral and anal sex with the cousins. Although the county attorney wanted “inpatient treatment” for him, further investigations indicated that the facility was a poorly run lockup facility for young sex offenders. As this kid was small and immature, he would have likely been fresh meat for the older offenders. Instead the judge locked him up in a detention facility for four months, and put him on indefinite probation until he is eighteen. After I got to know him, I asked, thinking he had been sexually abused himself, “Where did you first learn about this kind of sex?” With his head hanging down, he quietly said, “On my phone”. When I asked if there was a particular friend or relative who had shown him the site(s), he said, “I dunno, you know, everyone’s phone”.
 
If you notice, these few examples are without religious or moral commentary. That in itself is a whole other vantage point that, although extremely relevant, is missing from this response. Dear Abby Jr. apparently thinks that this subject is one that pits the hip enlightened ones against the conservative moralists. She is wrong. Harmfully wrong. Although people have occasionally viewed extreme sex and not suffered detrimental effects, so many people have been harmed by their indulgence in porn, and a lot of them are really young, that to ignore that well known fact is far worse than being naïve or ill informed;  it is a form of  journalistic malpractice.

You know, I don’t want to waste my column time criticizing “Dear Crabby”, but this column needs to be addressed.  As a therapist, I have always known that when someone asks you for help, it is poor work at best to simply insinuate, “Don’t worry about it”. And that’s how this thing started off. Crabbs, this should not be a public forum to promote our own agendas or prejudices. Your unfounded support for the possible sexual enhancement of viewing porn is not only shortsighted, but potentially harmful. That “do no harm” thing that the doctors are supposed to do applies to us too. So here’s most of the letter and your answer. I will complete my comment at the end. You ought to be embarrassed…. at the very least.
 
Dear Abby, We don't live together, but we're together three or four times a week. He is into porn, and when I am not there, I know he looks at it because I have found pictures of it on his phone. It makes me feel like I'm not enough. When I tell him that, he says there's no emotional attachment to porn for him. He says it is all visual and there is nothing to be jealous of. I myself am not into it. It grosses me out to even look at it. Is he telling me the truth? -- GROSSED OUT IN JERSEY
“DEAR GROSSED OUT: If your boyfriend does not require looking at his cellphone in order to have sex with you, then he is telling you the truth. Men are turned on by the visual. Women are more turned on by the written word. The expert who pointed that out to me was Larry Flynt. [Hustler magazine]. After I printed it, I was criticized by some readers for using him as a resource. Three months later, the book ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ appeared and became a worldwide phenomenon. So Larry was right -- in SPADES.” [Emphasis, hers]
 
Dear Crappy Jr.,
My editor has cautioned me about writing too long of an answer. As a result, I must do a part one and a part two. Part two (next week, presumably) will contain a handful of real life situations with porn and couples. Stuff that taught me a lot. It’s a little eye-opening.
 
PART ONE: The Reply
The girlfriend is sickened by his porn he watches. You make no mention of our loving duty to take care of each other. This is not a "rights" issue, it's a relationship issue.  You instantly take sides against who you might consider “a prude”? That’s pretty prejudicial. How about helping the couple? Additionally, although the visual/male and written/female responses may be correct, so what?  That means they should be okay with watching porn? That’s a pretty bizarre assumption, especially since someone wrote you asking for help with their relationship.
 
Because Fifty Shades sold a lot of copies that means that porn is what, good for you? You know the Godfather was an enormous seller, and that means what, it’s good for us to be mafia? That you should name your first boy after the Godfather’s hit man Luca Brasi? What are you trying to say? Additionally, as a frame of reference,  how many couples have you worked with that discussed with you their involvement with porn, good or bad?
 
 Finally, you don’t have to love or hate (or even remember) Larry Flynt. He published Hustler, which was far more explicit than the other “girlie” magazines. You’re asking a guy who made his living selling the most explicit sex pics and stories of their time if he thinks watching explicit sex is okay? Really? Gimmi a break.
Crappie, you’re easily old enough to remember the old adage, “Never ask a barber if you need a haircut”.
 
Do you need professional liability insurance as an advice-giving columnist? Do your syndicated newspapers? If I gave “advice” like this, my premiums might go sky high (or worse).  By telling a concerned woman she shouldn’t worry about her boyfriend’s love of porn is doing harm to her and her relationship with him. This is far more serious than incorrect advice.
I repeat, you are doing harm.
 
Next Week:
Some Real Case Studies Of Twenty-First Century Porn And Some Of The People Involved

HeyJohn,
I am a thirty-five year old mother of two boys, ages 12 and 9. I am married, and both my husband and I are employed, but are not highly paid people. Because of our shaky finances, we have moved in with my mother and her husband. It is a little cramped, with the boys sharing a fold out bed in the living room. We contribute to the bills and the food. My question is, how much power do I give my mom in disciplining the kids? Although they are pretty well behaved, they are boys, and don’t always get along. When I got home from work the other day I found the 9 year old standing in the corner, and my older son sitting on the couch with his hands folded on his lap. They had both been there for about an hour. I was then lectured by my mom what a poor disciplinarian I was, and how poorly behaved the kids were. I told her privately that she needed to “release” the boys from their punishment, and she said no, they hadn’t learned their lesson. I took them outside, discussed the problem and set them free. My mother was furious and hasn’t spoken a word to me or the boys for the last two days. Was I in the wrong here? I am grateful she let us move in, but does that give her the authority to run my family? I don’t know what to do.                                                                                                                                      
Working Myself Crazy
 
                                                                                                                                                                            Dear Crazy,
You know, other cultures accept multi-generation families living under one roof. Asians, for example, have had grandparents, parents and their children living together to consolidate resources and income to save for the kid’s college education. Our American culture has not embraced such a lifestyle until fairly recently. Due to lousy finances, broken families and dysfunctional lifestyles, the number of “blended families” has increased greatly in the past twenty years or so. Thus, when I deal with families who have numerous generations living under one roof, I almost automatically assume some level of dysfunction. It’s not always the case, obviously, but it is more often than not. Then, when you add the probable issue of poor problem solving abilities into the mix, you have a really sad home environment for everyone, especially the kids. There are some solutions however, but it means practicing some light assertiveness in addition to working at problem solving skills. Consider as well: was your Mom an angry parent when she was in round one of her parenting days (that is, raising you)? If so, it’s unlikely she will have improved when she is called out of parenting retirement to embark on round two. Allow me to innumerate a few possible ideas to improve the home environment.
 
1) Without the kids present, have a calm sit-down meeting with your Mom. Start by giving her a time frame of how long y'all are planning to camp out with her. It's pretty daunting thinking your house is being invaded for eternity. Then try to come up with ideas to help her deal with your kid’s unacceptable behavior until you return home. One example would be: if the kids were arguing over a TV program, she might give them a warning that they have two minutes to reach their own solution, or face grandma’s solution (typically taking away screen time for an hour or so). In this way you are giving her some authority to control misbehavior while keeping yourselves as the final authority as to the discipline. Be sure to add your own consequences (though keep them light if granny has already punished them). Remind your Mom (and yourselves as well) to make note of good behaviors as well . Remember the old management mantra: “Unrewarded good behaviors cease”.
2) In the event your Mom is a highly stressed out grandma who is unable or unwilling to embrace a few ideas to make life in her house more enjoyable, you and Mr. Husband need to spend part of your time checking out future places to live - and soon.. Most towns have reduced income housing available. Look into your local HUD housing office for options and ideas. There are also reduced fees for child care for lower incomes. You need to prepare ahead of time so you are not forced to make a decision in a family crisis. Keep all this information to yourselves, as your Mom might perceive it as a threat or an insult. The both of you working likely means y’all are not lazy bums, but under-paid people. Our poor years are usually not permanent. When we are struggling, we need to do some extra things to keep afloat. Do it.
3) Keep this thought in your head: when your kids are in their thirties and coming back with their spouse and kids to visit you, what do you want their memories to be? Do you want them reminiscing about the worse days of their life growing up with you? Your son says, “I couldn’t wait to graduate from high school so I could get out of that hell hole?” Or would you rather, “I miss those days as a kid when we all would have some great meals and play those gooney games you used to love?” CrazyWorkingMom, you are creating the future right now. Choose wisely. Our childhood is not supposed to be rotten.

I've had two inquiries in two weeks about the same issue: the wife would like more sexual participation from the husband. For men who wish for the same, I know what you're thinkin': "can she counsel my wife?" The truth is, however, there is far more often than not some degree of compatibility issues in regards to sex between husbands and wives. Thus, a semi-rare HeyJohn re-run is called for. If you didn't already know, I'm in a bit of a snit with Dear Crabby. Although she often gives out easy, kinda common sense "advice", sometimes she spaces out. As my correction dealt with specifically this sex issue, I thought it appropriate to run it again. Abbs was a space chicken here. "Asexual"? I thought that was what pollywogs were. Anyway, batter up toots. I maintain it's way past time to retire...

Dear Crabby is now Dear Crabby Junior, with her much-younger-than-she-was (however, she is 75) semi-hip daughter having purchased the name. Not to mention she makes a lot of moola on her column. Sometimes she’s on, and sometimes she's off. But you know, you owe it to the public not to be massively off the wall. I don’t go around lookin’ for fights, but this bizarro piece of advice got my toes tingling.
 
So here’s the contention: a lady writes Crabbington complaining that her “masculine” husband of four years is only “having sex” twice a month with her. They are both early forties. She goes on to say, “I don’t want to cheat, but I’m afraid I eventually will if my needs aren’t met”. Crabs responds by saying, “he appears to have very low sex drive, or he may be borderline asexual.” If you try some counseling or sex toys, and it doesn’t work, “you will have to decide if you are prepared to live with the situation as it is.”
Yow! That seems a little strange. Borderline asexual? Is this really advice? Call me old, or call me old fashioned (just don’t call me late for supper), but I still think marriage is supposed to be about true love, a presumption of permanence, mutual respect for each other, and that ol’ for better or for worse promise thing. If not, why’d you get married in the first place? So Crabbington, Jr., let’s revise that odd assessment and “hip advice”. How about:
 
Dear Needs More,
First you need to review why you married this man. “I don’t want to cheat” should never be used as a threat, or even in the deck in the first place. Review your love, loyalty and commitment to him. Secondly, a loving couple should look out for each other. You might want to consider having a talk with him with a few ideas (logically a checkup first). He, on the other hand should we willing to forgo pride or embarrassment and help his true love anyway he can. A competent doctor’s appointment could easily determine low testosterone levels (relax fellas, it's just blood work), and is dealt with pretty easily and very commonly. He needs to get over any machismo about asking for help, and you need to re-learn commitment and loyalty. If anyone suggests an off the wall diagnoses like “asexual”, you might seriously question their expertise and judgment. There’s a whole bunch of reasons why couples get out of sync in their love life. If y'all need a counselor, therapists are listed everywhere online, and some have customer ratings. Y’all work like a loving dedicated couple on solutions and always take care of each other.

Hey John,
I am the mother of three kids: two girls and a boy. We are a tight knit family, as we are very involved parents to very nice, though sometimes challenging children. However, this challenge we could have done without. Recently our seven year old boy dropped an “N-bomb” at school. Although he appeared not to mean it in an angry way, the little black kid in his class (his friend) was wounded. His teacher called us in to discuss the matter with us and our son. He was clearly deeply humiliated. He had already had a discussion with “Peter” and apologized to him. I was disappointed and angry with him. His father, on the other hand was much more upset than I was. On the drive home he unleashed on him: “what’s wrong with you anyway?” And “where did you learn to talk like that? Certainly not from us!” And on and on. He went to bed early that night and nothing more was said. My question is, how much influence do his friends have on him? Will his teachers think of us as drooling racists, teaching our kids such human disrespect at home? Does he not know right from wrong? Do we have to isolate him from bad influences for the rest of his in-school life?
Distraught Mom
 
Dear D-Mom,
You are worried about the wrong thing. You are scared that your son will exhibit improper behaviors regardless of y’alls teachings. Hopefully these poor behaviors will be few and far between. However, based on our own experiences in growing up, we both know there are things we have done that our parents would have objected to. The real concern is when our kids screw up and we don’t know about it. When our kids mess up, it is the perfect opportunity to teach them right from wrong.           
You asked, “Does he not know right from wrong”? The real answer is: usually, but not always. Our lives are full of lessons, and sometimes we have to learn by screwing up, and suffering the proper accountability. Obviously this includes positive reinforcement for good behavior as well. The brains of children are not fully developed, and as good parents, it’s our duty to teach them and help them develop. Remember that kinda scary soft spot on the head of your newborn? I like to think that older kids have a soft, undeveloped spot in their head.
As for isolating him, it’s just not possible. We can be selective about some of his friends, but the reality is: we need to empower them to know right from wrong when they are away from us. [See: the scary days when your daughter starts dating]. So the reality is this: when our kids mess up, it is the perfect opportunity to teach them. Parents long for easy behaviors to deal with. Personally, I long for opportunities to teach my kids so they’ll turn out okay.

 
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 officer 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 readers, 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 so sad 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.