We got a brand-new front door today. Of course, because the old one had to be removed, it got a little chilly in the house. We didn’t mind because the new door is handsome and has pearl privacy glass.
We were always a little uncomfortable with the clear glass sidelight and door windows on the old door. Anybody could peek inside.
The tradesmen got here at 11:00 AM and were done by 3:00 PM. We turned the furnace off because the door was off-for several hours. It wasn’t a terribly frigid day, but we still had to put jackets on. Outside it was in the 40s for the most part and only got up to the low 50s. It got down to 64 degrees inside.
The color of our new front door is grey, a color that is thought to be dignified, intelligent, and balanced.
Doorways also are said to represent transitions or passages from one stage of life to another.
One thing our new front doors says is that, at this stage in life we feel a whole lot better when nobody can spy on us.
I heard John Heim (aka Big Mo) on KCCK talk at length about MayRee’s hand battered catfish tonight. There was much more detail than usual. I can’t remember all of them. One I do remember is that her joint is on the corner of Highway 6H and Snowflake Road-sort of.
MayRee will give you a choice of 3 beverages that sound like a crazy cross between a soft drink and white lightning moonshine or something. One flavor is “clear” and another could be something like pumpkin spice, but I probably misheard that.
I got a comment from a blogger, Everyday Lillie. She has not heard of nitrates in catfish but appreciated the information.
MayRee cooks them with “manic delight.” They are really something, I guess.
I heard this Sonny Landreth piece tonight on the show.
Today we got a fair amount of snow dumped on us. It gave the deer the zoomies. They ran around in it like they were having a lot of fun.
It was a heavy, wet snow. So, we took some time out from shoveling so I could make some snowballs and try juggling them. It didn’t work so well about a month ago when the snow was in brittle clumps. Today it worked pretty well, after I got the hang of shaping the snowballs.
I just got the greatest shout out from one of my heroes, Dr. H. Steven Moffic, MD. The link to one of his regular Psychiatric Times web (PT) articles, mainly on what’s in the daily news that impacts psychiatry or vice versa, is on the menu of my home page.
In fact, I didn’t know that Dr. Moffic even noticed that I had a blog. I have written articles for PT in the past. You can still find them by searching my name on the web site. One was on stress and the psychiatrist and another was on how consulting psychiatrists can be helpful in recognizing and managing delirium.
And today, Psychiatric Times (PT) contacted me to make a video about my juggling hobby. I gather it’s a regular series about what psychiatrists do outside of their work/practice. Imagine that; PT wants to see ugly juggling! How did PT know about that? Dr. Moffic mentioned my name.
In return, I’d like to give a big shout out right back to Dr. Moffic and also to other psychiatrists. One is Dr. George Dawson, who writes the blog Real Psychiatry. Another is TheGoodEnough Psychiatrist. These are featured on the main menu on my blog. I can name another who also writes for PT and this is Dr. Ronald Pies.
Today, I was thinking of a guy named Al Martin, who was one of the few African American role models for me when I was a teenager in Mason City, Iowa. I thought of him a couple of years ago, googled his name and couldn’t find him. I mentioned him anyway in a blog post at that time, “Snow Moon Reflections.” A major topic was black male role models.
Today, for some reason I thought of him again. I googled his name once more and found an obituary for a man named Allen Henry Martin. This particular Martin was a black man who was 83 years old when he died just this last November of 2022. The obituary stated that he was a talented artist, just as I recall. Despite the many decades gone by, his photograph looked familiar to me.
He was a sculptor and photographer as well as a painter. He worked several different jobs. He had a great sense of humor. He worked as a land surveyor for several years, which I connect with because I did that for a while when I was young.
I’m not absolutely certain that Allen Henry Martin is the same Al Martin who I looked up to when I was at a tender age. But for now, I’m going to assume they were one and the same.
One time, Al Martin took me to an art show where he set up many of his pictures. It was a brisk autumn day. We drank a lot of coffee, partly to keep warm. I remember how uncomfortable I felt because of my full bladder. The wind was cold.
I don’t know why I remember this, but Al one time spoke of his children and he happened to mention what he did when they felt sick to the stomach. It sounds gross, but he made the story comical and said something like, “Many a time I caught vomit in my hands!” It was disgusting—but funny at the same time, the way he told that little story. You really had to be there to get it.
As I read this, I catch myself thinking I should have something more solemn and dignified to say about Al.
But this is not an obituary. These are just my memories of Al Martin which are fading the older I get, and I’m entitled to them. Al Martin was a great guy.
It’s way past time for more ugly juggling tricks. I’m working on a few and my skills wax and wane, a lot like delirium. It fits.
Behind the back, under the leg, 1-UP 2-UP, over the top with juggler’s tennis, and using a different color ball (orange) for the trick ball are the highlights.
I was thinking about what to write for the first day of Black History Month, which starts today on February 1, 2023.
As usual, I started to reminisce about my time at Iowa State University (ISU) in Ames, Iowa. I usually don’t talk about my undergraduate days. In fact, I had a little trouble finding my diploma. It was in storage in the first place I should have looked. I graduated from ISU in 1985.
The Iowa State Daily ran a story, “Black scientists from Iowa State,” published on February 4, 2021, obviously in honor of Black History Month. Of course, it featured ISU’s most illustrious graduate, George Washington Carver, who earned his graduate degree in 1894. Carver also loved poetry and painting, which I didn’t know.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published (or registered with the U.S. Copyright Office) before January 1, 1928
Carver was a scientist and put it to practical use. It fits with the ISU motto, which was short and to the point: “Science with Practice.”
I transferred credit to ISU in the mid-1970s from one of the country’s Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs), Huston-Tillotson College (now Huston-Tillotson University). I submitted a poem to the college’s annual student poetry contest sponsored by one of the English Professors, Dr. Jenny Lind Porter-Scott. My poem didn’t make the cut, but many students got their work published in the little book, Habari Gani (Swahili for “What’s Going On”), which published the best poems.
Part of the reason I went to ISU was the encouragement I got from my bosses at WHKS &Co, consulting engineers. I was a surveyor’s assistant and drafter. I was the only African-American employee working there.
The idea behind going to ISU initially was to pursue a degree in engineering. That didn’t happen because frankly, I didn’t have a head for the mathematics. On the other hand, I got interested in biology, chemistry, and zoology and finally ended up in medical school at The University of Iowa in Iowa City. The rest is history, as they say, which allows the usual cover up of a multitude of sins.
At the time Sena and moved to Ames in the early 1980s, it was a quiet little town, except during VEISHEA, an annual spring celebration on campus. The event got out of hand many times and it was finally banned in 2014.
Back in the days of George Washington Carver, African American students were not allowed to room with other students who did not have black skin on campus. By the time we moved to Ames, the most uncomfortable racial incident I can recall personally was being the butt of a “nigger” joke at a barbershop. I had to find another place to get my hair cut.
I still had a lot of science to digest at ISU after switching my major from engineering to the life sciences. I remember a chemistry professor who looked like the typical hippie who demonstrated how electrons get excited by stacking chairs on top of the counter in front of the chalkboard (which teachers were still using) and climbing to the top and nervously doing a shaky little dance showing what an excited electron he was. I think all of us collectively held our breath, waiting for him to tumble to the floor.
I really had a tough time learning organic chemistry. You had to draw diagrams showing how the molecules and atoms connected after each reaction. I will never forget an Asian Teacher’s Assistant who patiently tutored me, despite my having a very bad cold and a bad attitude to boot.
I graduated and then returned to get more credits to try getting into medical school after finding it very difficult to find employment with my Bachelor of Science degree. It took about 9 months before I finally landed a job in the clinical lab at one of the hospitals in Des Moines. The lab director worked there for a very short time while I was there, and then left to go to medical school.
That was my cue. I think it worked out for the best. By the way, the engraved crystal in the featured image is an appreciation gift from The University of Iowa for my years of service.
And I guess that’s about enough reminiscence for now.
Go Retire Psychiatrist 