Spoke Two

Second of fourteen spokes. The first section is the original version I wrote, the second section is a collaborative effort between my granddaughter Ariel and I.

Spoke Two

    Fear was always guiding me, which put me in a position of being second to Jimmy, who was heroic and very large. I was well protected. Lord knows the fear felt cannot be explained fear of being called copycat I went to to the teachers desk turning my paper in just a little late.

~ ~ ~

    As a young man, fear guided me, which is what drew me to Jimmy. Jimmy was too large and too smart to be bullied, and yet never used his own power to bully others. Jimmy’s largeness and our friendship kept me in safe hands in the classroom: I was a skinny boy, but I was able to perform well and make good grades without being beaten up for it by other classmates. I was well protected. Again, I was a chick hatched, following instinct for survival. Jimmy was not an extraordinary friend, but he kept me sheltered so that I could encounter other heroic figures. Bobby, who had 4 or 5 different ways to solve every math problem, showed me what true genius was for the first time. Coach Binion, who so naturally nurtured and helped those around him, made it easy to follow his lead. Charlie Branch showed me that determination and perseverance can bring you more success than innate talent. I thought that talent just appeared, but it had to go along with hard work. I realized over the years, looking back at these men who helped guide me, how much time and effort was put into the endeavors, the persistence. A willingness to keep at something is what moved them forward, and so it would be for me.

Spoke One

Young folks who may become confused the essence of truth:

Truth arises from within and with those close by who know you in person. We are in a sea of disinformation such as Biden “Returning you to normal” or AG Barr “ The right side is the winning side” or  Zuckerberg “it’s way over my head. Lost touch.” Or the media “We need your ads”. Or Trump “You still haven’t caught on to the game” Place your trust in God or in your friends back porch Friendship is not a recent creation. I finally am cornered and must write. However I am plagued by a multitude of choices. Even though the me always gets turned upside down into a we there is trouble with the Yogi Berra choice of coming to a fork in the road and taking it. So I will weasel out to the wheel. I’m sitting in the hub of the wheel with ball bearings whizzing around and looking for address or direction to take. 

First of fourteen spokes. The first section is the original version I wrote, the second section a collaborative effort between my granddaughter Ariel and I, and the third section is the spoke from her perspective.

Spoke One

Like a hatchling duckling at age 4; I follow Jack Bass through all his adventures I’ve learned about since. Following that path from the hub of the wheel, gradually metamorphosing into PK the gonzo psychiatrist. It was never my intention. Although I always intended to leave general practice and enter psychiatry; I had no notion of how psychiatry would turn into a monster leaving me in a frightening but delightful Ganzo position. I could not until now accept it as such.

~ ~ ~

    There is an essential mystery that remains in science: instinct. Like a hatchling duck; I follow Jack Bass through all his adventures - both those I witnessed as a child and those I’ve learned about since. At age 4, it seemed to be pure instinct that drove my interest in him, and I followed what I imagined Jack Bass to be: heroic. In adulthood, following that path from the hub of the wheel meant I gradually metamorphosed into PK the Gonzo Psychiatrist. Although I always intended to leave general practice and enter psychiatry, I had no notion of how psychiatry would turn into a monster and leave in a frightening but delightful Gonzo position. I could not, until now, accept it as such. 

~ ~ ~

    When grandpa and I speak about his life and his childhood, Jack Bass nearly always appears in our conversations, no matter the topic. Jack Bass was a family friend who passed when my Grandpa was only 7. I once asked him if he was remembering Bass as he knew him as a child or if time had intensified and altered his memories, and he responded that he wasn’t sure the answer was needed. Bass lives on as a lighthouse to my Grandfather, a guiding influence who represents heroism in his own uniquely rebellious way, which greatly aided my Grandpa when faced with the stranger that psychiatry became. Instinct, innovation, and heroism. He faced a field greatly changed by the drug industry and insisted on tackling it from a comprehensive, person focused, and inventive lens, despite being seen as outlandish by others in the world of Psychiatry. This determination and willingness to explore made him who he is: the Gonzo Psychiatrist. 

Childhood Memories

                           

     Childhood Memories  

   My first memory is of the porch at grandma Fayard’s house in Biloxi. I remember asking why the beer truck stopped in front of the house. My grandma said that mother was having trouble having enough milk for the baby (that’s my brother Mike). So the beer was ordered by the doctor to bring about more milk from her breasts. 

   I also remember all the fun time with Grandpa as we listened to Amos and Andy on the radio. I remember with a great deal of gratitude watching my grandpa build model boats. When grandpa Fayard got into the intensity of the building, he would drool into the bottom of the boat and we would silently laugh. Several summers went by and finally the large boat was built. It was 6 foot long and rigged as a Biloxi oyster sloop. I remember Grandpa begging Grandma to make the sails. She finally did, although she kept saying that she didn’t know how. The sails were wonderful. It was a good bit scary to get into that 6 foot boat for the first time. I was five years old. It was frightening to slide into the cockpit for the first time. When the mainsail first caught the wind the boat heeled to the left and I instinctively leaned to my right and felt the magic of sailing. There is a special feeling to sailing that cannot be overestimated. There’s a sound of the rigging and straining of the mast and lapping of the water along the sides and finally Grandpa worrying that I would not know how to turn the boat away from the deep water. He finally got a long cord that he held onto so that he could turn me back toward the shore. He was loving and careful with me. He  took me to the highway 90 bridge where he worked as a bridge tender. It was an overhead style bridge so the cars ran right under us and the bridge would swing wide open and allow boats to come through. The only time I saw Grandpa cuss was when a sailboat was hung in irons and couldn’t get through the bridge and cars were backed up in either direction. 

   I recall a special time of my mother and grandmother in their frantic effort to bring my fever down from measles with a variety of warm clothes and cold clothes and with Vick Salve and just running back-and-forth. In my delirium I thought it was kind of funny. 

   During the regular school year Mom, Mike and I were back in Homestead with Dad and his parents. Much of my recollection of  Grandma Springer was her calm gentle manner and beautiful piano playing. Grandpa Springer played penuchle with her and also claimed that they could read each other’s cards. I recall being unconvinced but that led me to want to know more about Grandpa Springer.

   Grandpa Springer was a horse of a different color. Yeah powerful idea about government and politics and about right and wrong in the public sector. When I was about 10 years old I would sit with him and he would tell me about what happened with Eli Lily and other companies in the drug business. It was my first realization of conflict in the world. Schools do not prepare us for conflict. We must get that from our ancestry and particularly our grandfathers. Right now we are being led into a concern about coronavirus while the politicians make the stock market more profitable than ever. It reached a new high yesterday. This grandpa Springer knew quite well. But we still haven’t done anything about it except that some of the grandchildren are activist In  all of his vainglory Trump may have stirred into being politically active.

Jack Bass and The Cookie House

                   Jack Bass and the Cookie House

     The Cookie House was the site where my father, Stewart Springer in his capacity as a notary public,  married Archie Carr (first PhD candidate ever awarded by the University of Florida) and Marjorie Carr (well-known defender of the Ocklawaha River). Jack Bass hired my father, Stewart Springer, in 1935 or 1936 as director of the Bass Biological Laboratory. He organized and funded a shark venture at my dad’s request. As a result my father was awarded the Florida Academy of Science award in 1938 for his scientific  paper on two new species of sharks.

     Jack Bass was a gonzo, in my opinion, to end all gonzo's. He was a raconteur and had untold wealth from his family. It was thought that he cost the family a great deal because it was rumored that he had eloped with a Russian princess and had to be ransomed for his survival. There are many things that were unknown in that time and many other things that remain a mystery about Jack Bass. But he was an instigator and he instigated many things that proved to be very interesting, very troubling to some, and a delight to others. 

     For example, he found that my mother didn't want to live upstairs in the big house on the Lab compound  and wanted a home of her own. I think he resented this to some extent because he couldn't kid my mother the way he could others. So he built a house for my mom and dad. It was a nice place though a log cabin and somewhat airy in the winter. My mother refused to accept a cookie house so Jack built her a house but with logs lengthwise instead of cookie shaped. 

     But that wasn’t the real issue. Before the house was occupied Jack Bass stuffed 2 pounds of fresh mullet into mom and dad’s bedsprings. We moved in and within days mother was complaining about the horrible smell and that she couldn't find where it was coming from. She was packing to leave when Jack drove up and admitted that he had stuffed the mullet in the bedsprings. He arranged to have everything taken care of and cleaned up the house entirely. The main reason for bringing this up is that it was my first experience with a gonzo. 

     I realize that I had no idea at age 4 when I first came into contact with Jack Bass that he was a gonzo. Now that I look back on it there were many reasons why he was a gonzo. In my own personal opinion a gonzo is a conglomeration of Hunter S Thompson and the gonzo of Muppet fame. A gonzo is an outlier, a person on the fringe of life, but also demanding the attention of all. In the scheme of things a gonzo makes slack in any system. The slack keeps a system from breaking down into chaos. It changes a horrifying situation into a palatable one. A few rounds with the gonzo of the Muppet Show illustrate that there is a fine line between dead serious and terribly funny. 

.    There was a dining hall in the main building with a  long dining table and a continuous bench around the table. He could simply stuff anything under the cushions where someone was to be seated.  So Jack Bass stuffed fart bladders, at strategic locations, under the cushions. I remember that some of his targets were itinerant naturalists female schoolteachers. He would sit at the head of the table before anyone got there. When a little lady schoolteacher sat down on the fart bladder, he would hit the table with a crashing fist sending plates and silverware skittering back-and-forth. He laughed and laughed and I foolishly laughed with him. Later in life I saw a few WC Field’s movies and have come to believe  that I  haven’t known seen any one quite like Jack Bass. To me he was very much like the way WC Fields acted in movies I have seen.

      As much as I could, I hung out where he napped in the afternoon under the trees near his home. It was not an usual napping scene in that there were three Great Danes napping beside him and he in a hammock with two pearl handled pistols. But Jack's wife Elsa was constantly trying to persuade mother to be more accepting of Jack's eccentric ways. Incidentally because the Great  Danes developed heart-worm in rapid succession, Jack replaced them with Boxers. I mention this because I loved the Great Danes a great deal and they were always gentle with me. But the Boxers would run up and knock me down every time. They were constantly slobbering on me so I didn't hang out under the trees while Jack napped as much as I did with the Great Danes were there.

     Looking back I don't know how it all came together. Mother was adamant about my going out in a canoe by myself, but Jack just insisted that I go and have an adventure. So I went. I remember being a bit frightened at first but as I was able to navigate the canoe to settle down and went under the highway bridge. I was in a creek which was no more than 6 feet wide and 4 feet deep. The  water was very clear. All of a sudden I focused on a huge sawfish staring right at me just about 3 foot away. His rostrum was right at the bow of the canoe. I froze; frightened and waited as he gently slid by. It was as if he owned the creek. So  I didn't go any further up the creek. Feeling relieved I  turned around and headed for home. 

 By the time I was five years old I had met the most interesting, the most devilish, the most fun loving human being I have ever known or seen since, Jack Bass.

Scattering Thoughts

   

            

     I spent the better part of the year (off and on) trying to understand Julien Jane’s book, The Origin of Consciousness  and the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. It must have been a strange set of circumstance that separated the primates from the emerging human being. This mind of mine seems to be in a constant state of breakdown for repair and breakdown and repair again.   

      Well I got a clue through my friend Janet Baringer who reminded me of Eloise Page. The design is what counts!!  so why design a brain into  right and left side.?

      I believe that consciousness within myself is a dialogue between the right and left side of my brain and between all of this is that as well as moral yes’s and no’s. If I awake during the night I might ponder over a moral issue for a period of time and believe that  no harm is actually done if I take an excursion into XXX. If I’m very good at it I feel a modest remorse but if I am bad at it I reward myself with the notion of good moral behavior.

     Some phenomena are so great within my consciousness that I fear the call of bragging. Two Saturdays ago we had our first Zoom family meeting. Both events were a triumph over the natural scattering of modern family life. We  had 20 kin in 9 locations with two graduations of Celeste in Georgia and Christian in.Newberry. 
     With the falls came the internment into nursing  home life, followed by many CT scans, MRI’s and. 3 neurologists.Though questionable; came the diagnosis of Lewy body dementia made famous by Robin Williams.

                   Of this I know to be true 

I know that by some mysterious means many of us alcoholics and many others with similar addictive problems, have a natural intuition as we, through time and effort, become psychologically  healthy. We are not as protected from our unconscious mind as those who are more intellectual. We are healthy people who use intuition effectively to make  choices about what to do in our lives. What is intuition?The dictionary tells us that intuition is a direct perception of the truth without regard to reasoning. 

But these issues are not compartments. There is a mosaic patterning to what happens in ordinary life. Nothing for us is totally rational. For us there is an essential mystery which some of us reserve a large space for the meaning implied by the word spiritual.

     GRight brain Digression

This is Blogs number 46. I am writing a blog about consciousness for several years. Having completed 44 episodes of Hummy and Billy G. I’ve now I’ve been struggling in this problem of consciousness and moved on to the issue of relationship. The clear message  is that consciousness is about the “self” and relationship is how we relate to others. In this blog I will explore how I describe a  particular relationship. This is a tricky  problem because I boldly swing into the “self” of the other and even more audacious  is my effort to plumb the relationship between myself and the group or multiples of the others. A vast gulf of the unknown cause most of my colleague to shy away from this seeming chasm of direct knowledge. This is why many psychiatrists do not engage in group therapy. The vast majority of psychiatrists found that credit what is due to those who are clearly seen as causing an outcome. In contrast the group therapist facilitates interaction but is not seen as visible in the process.Ultimately insurance  companies favor the psychiatrist who can point clearly to his or her efforts in the analysis of therapy.
Insurance companies are not truly the issue. The issue is how do we interact with each other. Here the water is getting treacherously deep.
    I pause here for a six decade digression. A number of years ago I was at national training labs and heard a lady talk about the problem of schools. She believed that schools were run by left brained   Rather than an appropriate balance of right brained people thus throwing Many youngsters completely into supposed learning problems. This remembrance was brought on by my son Louis’Announcement that he been given equity in the company that had just hired him less than a year ago. he was told his process ordinarily took three years. The leader ship of the company realize that he do things that he didn’t know he knew which made him more valuable than they had originally expected of him. In general right brain people do not know their value. They do not know their value without interacting with others. So Louis would pull someone away from their computer screen and engaged them in a conversation Which yielded information that he didn’t know he possessed or I didn’t realize they didn’t know. Therefore right brained  don’t fight for their rights. But others find ways to help out .

Age makes us more reasonable. They have come to call it wisdom