Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Sunday, January 4, 2009

2008 - Dave Barry's Year in Review



Dave Barry's annual Year in Review is one of the funniest I've ever read. Maybe it's because 2008 was a year like no other. After all, you can't make that stuff up!

Some of it had me literally laughing out loud. I got some funny looks from the cat.

Some excerpts:

"How weird a year was it? Here's how weird: O.J. actually got convicted of something."

"Gasoline hit $4 a gallon -- and those were the good times. "

He then goes on a month by month update from beginning to end, including the interminable primary season and the ongoing spending and crime sprees of Bonnie and Clyde, aka Fannie and Freddie.

Including this tidbit from August which perked up Oscar's ears:

"Meanwhile, John McCain, still searching for the perfect running mate, tells his top aides in a conference call that he wants "someone who is capable of filling my shoes." Unfortunately, he is speaking into the wrong end of his cellphone, and his aides think he said "someone who is capable of killing a moose." Shortly thereafter, McCain stuns the world, and possibly himself, by selecting Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin, a no-nonsense hockey mom with roughly 114 children named after random nouns such as "Hamper."

Happy reading and may 2009 be slightly less funny!


Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Elissa Ely



Elissa Ely is a psychiatrist in the Boston area - she's a physician and a writer. She has an irregular column in the Boston Globe, usually on Sundays, and her pieces are always thought provoking in some way. I've been a fan of hers for quite a few years.


She also has an irregular radio spot on NPR or the local station WBUR, and I am always struck by how young she sounds - sort of a back of the teeth lisp and a wispy soft voice. It's meshmerizing. ( Elissa Ely on NPR - Reverbiage )


Her latest piece in the Globe struck a chord with me. It's titled A subtle shift of a dilemma, and like many of her pieces it's written from many points of view at once. A man recently discharged from prison, under house rules, is caught between the rules of the program he is in, and wanting to be there for his daughter's birthday party. Knowing what the house rules are, he puts himself in a position where he may not be able to attend the party. Teasing apart what was his responsibility and what was not, when nothing that ever happens to this man is his fault, is a neat trick indeed. She's very good at describing the subtle transformations that happen as the burden is slowly shifted onto the shoulders of the team, and off of his own. As he had hoped, I'm sure. Some folks are really good at avoiding responsibility for their own actions and making them the problem of other people. This guy was apparently a master.


"It was an interesting dilemma. Here was someone struggling, manifestly, with matters of truthfulness, disclosure, and priority-setting. But of course - sociopathically speaking - he was struggling with what he could get away with. It was not subtle. A classic sociopath makes you weep for his poverty while he is easing the wallet from your pocket. The best practitioners are almost impossible to recognize in their handsome sincerity and belief in themselves."


Having met a few masters (and mistresses) of this particular skill in my professional and personal life, I could totally relate to her description of it. How you can be aware of the responsibility slowly sliding off the shoulders of the person in trouble, and onto the shoulders of someone else. If you're really good, you can prevent it from happening, and flip it right back to where it belongs. Unfortunately, legions of little girls at birthday parties are hurt all the time by folks who let their responsibilities slide time and again. I don't think they ever get used to it, even when it happens all of their lives.


I always look forward to Dr Ely's articles. She describes people that most folks don't ever get to meet in their lifetimes. Or, if they do, they don't know what they're dealing with. And she never forgets to relate the human connection of her patients. As puzzling as they are, as hard to connect with as they may be, her patients are always human to her, and as a result, to us.