It's the end of the world as we know it...

REM was ahead of their time with this hit. Two perspectives have crossed my path recently. One is the article entitled I am Adam Lanza's Psychiatrist. The other is my father. In the former the author pleads with us to reconsider our view on mental health, and essentially each other. In the latter, my father discusses how his was a generation which lives, and has acted, in fear.

It's true mental health needs a new look. Despite the fact the nation/world has softened it's view on the field to believe it is no longer quack medicine, the concept that this is as essential as medical care is not spreading quickly enough. Cases in point: Newtown, Colorado Springs, and the innumerable amount of daily suicides which go unmentioned on the daily news (It turns out violence against self far outnumbers violence against others, showing we are more considerate of others lives than our own. But save that for another blog. Got to keep you reading). The bottom line is, we have to stop thinking of ourselves as islands. The lines between our mental health and "it's not my problem" is blurred. We should change how think and act accordingly.

The conversation with my father allowed me new understanding. He never hid from me what it was like to grow up in the shadow of the Vietnam War. The enemy, like the above mentioned line, was somewhat blurry. Sure you were told it was oppression and violation of human rights which were the enemy. But the end result seemed different. Any hippie will tell you that. My father also talked about being raised by parents who'd lived through major wars, watching an unthinkable number of the world' population die violently and mercilessly. Fear of this ambiguous violent death must be paralyzing. It floats in your life, everyday, threatening. It's something I've never known. And when I look at my parent's generation, I begin to see why grandparents, politicians, and judges in that age group still seem to make decisions based on fear. Fear of the unknown beast: of manipulation, being made a fool of, or even death.

And I believe this is where the two perspectives cross. Tomorrow is 12/21. The Mayan calendar ends. Some say it will be the end of the world. Others say it is the end of one cosmic cycle so that the new may begin. I'd rather think its the latter, The world has already changed so much in the last 100 years. We can only narrowly point to some nations and say "they are the enemy." It becomes more obvious how the fate of our "enemies" ends up being the fate of us all. The enemy we wall agree on is terrorism (notice the base word terror). It is no longer a war between things, but a war within things. And it seems we learning how to even combat this. The only way a terrorist wins is through fear. The more articles I read, the less I see us demonizing and the more we seem to try and understand. We seem to be looking inside ourselves and conquering the fear to face a strange, changing world bravely. I'm hoping tomorrow is our big arrival as a species and a planet. I have really high hopes for us.

But just in case I'm kissing my wife and daughter extra today.

What are your thoughts? What are some nagging or even paralyzing fears you'd like to let go of tomorrow?

Got to get gut

Look down. No not that far. Look at the thing that uses your belly button as a hood ornament. If you're like me, the hood ornament hangs a little out there. Maybe it just looks like a flat decal. Or maybe you haven't seen your hood ornament in a while. In any form, that thing, your gut, is one of the smartest things on the planet.

 To be honest, I always find this weird. Where along the way did we stop listening to our gut? When I think back to the time warped town I grew up in I remember teachers and authorities telling us to think more. Was it because I was in a time warped town or because I was young?

Either way I find myself reminding myself and other people to listen to our instincts. Aren't we supposed to do that naturally? What's the point of an instinct if you don't follow it? Why does it take a therapist to remind a person this is what we are supposed to do with our instincts? Maybe we've gotten a little too smart for our own good. Maybe we trust our rational brains just a little too much.

Think about it. As a whole, we are getting smarter. Technology has made leaps and bounds in the past 20 years. What the common 8th grader learns I didn't learn until I was well into high school. We communicate on multiple levels. We can multitask. All of this could serve to make us more evolved. But we've left out whole parts of us which understands without using our thinking brains. So undervalued have our guts become that people are often looked down upon to use them.

What's worse, it seems people no longer even know what it's like to listen to their gut. When I look around, people call obsessive thinking, unresolved emotions, and repressed desires (this last one can be tricky) their gut. While all of those could be part of a "gut" none make a whole gut. So here is my lame attempt to define our gut in hopes that someone tells me I'm an idiot and comes up with a better definition: our gut is the directive given to us in situations where action should be taken when our head, heart, and spirit are completely silent yet act as one.

Wow. That was lamer than I thought. Now I ask you, reader: how would you like a main character to interact with his/her gut? To trust it and always use it? To ignore it? To be oblivious? To actively go against it? I'm curious about the people you want to read about.

Spoiling for a Fight

I've been reading this amazing book called Hellraisers based on the crazy, boozy lives of Richard Burton, Richard Harris, Peter O'Toole and Oliver Reed. Their antics awaken in me nostalgia of college and romping through bar and countryside with some of my besties. Like the wild men in the book, the potential for a fight was always right around the corner for me. Except, I never fought. Not once. Well there was that one time, but he doesn't count. He was little.

It's been really hard to decide if I am proud of this or ashamed. When the term "boys will be boys" comes out, isn't fighting at the top of a list of behaviors it's meant to explain? To make me more confused, I love violent action movies (especially martial arts) yet I work against the glorification of violence. Does this make me eclectic, confused, or a coward?

I read a lot of stuff on masculinity. I find it all fascinating since it puts into words all of the mindless behaviors and senseless rules we men have been enacting for so long. But one thing we men are tied to is our violence. The very act seems to verify not only our masculinity but our very existence (think Fight Club). So what is a guy like me supposed to do when I am right in the middle of being a pacifist with a penchant for pugilism. Say that ten times fast.

When I think of the act of fighting, with me in the fight, it seems sort of childish. At the same time I get excited. It's the kind of excited you felt when you were getting dressed to go out to your first New Year's Eve as a 21 year old. I wonder often how I'd do in a fight. I realize, though, the conditions would have to be similar to the four gentleman above. Which also means I would not remember it anyway.

Let's not and pretend I did, then.

10 things at 32

10. Lazy is the new party.
9. I don't act like a 4 year old on my birthday anymore.
8. Instead of wanting a special meal from someone else, I wanted to cook.
7. My daughter's smile makes me happier than the presents.
6. I had to ask my wife how old I was going to be.
5. Grey is the new black.
4. It's really hard to think of 10 significant things on one's 32nd birthday.
3. I can't go out and get drunk because I have responsibilities.
2. I don't want to go out and get drunk, even if I had no responsibilities.
1. I got to do everything I wanted for my birthday! And then some!

Save the Sarcasm

Somewhere in my generation we developed sarcasm as an actual form of language. Like Ebonics or Cockney, I realize that it sometimes takes translation to actually understand what our words mean. Most humor is based in sarcasm lately. And, sadly, it even seems intelligence is measured through sarcasm.

This last fact became apparent to me while watching the presidential election. I noticed how media geared toward my generation acted as if more sarcasm made them more appealing. While being a lover of sarcasm as much as the next guy, flippant snipping does not a trustworthy news source make. Like most things in life there is such a thing as "too much of a good thing." Just as much as rampant f-bomb dropping makes us question the intelligence of the speaker, shouldn't pointless sarcasm make us question a speaker's knowledge? Reading all of the press made me realize each side had numerous witty comments without ever really saying a damn thing.

To be frank, this scares me. As said before, I like sarcasm. It's one of my favorite forms of humor. Nothing can kill a joke like telling it too much. What if we kill a whole form of joke telling? I notice little sarcastic remarks hold no weight (or laughs as it were). One must go well over the top. Could this be the sign of end of sarcasm as we know it? It's depressing to think this is just our faddish sign of the times. Couldn't we have done something cooler and less adolescent like sex, drugs, and rock and roll like our parents?

My main character is sarcastic. He doesn't hide behind his sarcasm but rather uses it for what it is intended. I think he's funny. I worry, when reading him, that his subtle wit and biting comments to his friends may be lost on readers. Will they think he is dumb because he doesn't use more sarcasm? Would I really be increasing his honesty and integrity by making his words mean less? Should I make him sarcastic about this topic, turning this social commentary into an attitude of my character? Can you read my sarcasm in these lines? Can you even tell anymore?

Please, people. Save the sarcasm before English come to our country and don't know what the hell we're talking about. Protect this time honored form of humor from extinction.