The Asylum Unpadlocked

                 A lot of people have lost loved ones this year.

             Many stars have been called home, the most recent, Mr. James Brown.      You already know how talented the "Godfather of Soul" was at singing.

             I  saw a skit on Saturday Night Live where Eddie Murphy was portraying him singing, "In the hot tub..." and dancing around the hot tub, just singing the same phrase over and over.  

             To this day I can't look at a hot tub without that skit popping into my mind's eye.   (Mind's eye...what does a mind look like?)

             It's been a bittersweet year with so many losses.

             Two thousand and  007 on the brink...where did the days go?

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             Mr. Peter Boyle passed away recently.

             I enjoyed him in Mr. Gene Wilder's "Young Frankenstein" which seems like only yesterday.

             In the movie  "The Dream Team" (with Mr. Michael Keaton and  Mr. Christopher Lloyd) he made us laugh at people who've gone a bit over the edge from stress...haven't we all felt like that at one time or another?

              These are two of my favorite movies.  I've never watched "Everyone Loves Raymond" but I understand it's a good series.

               I'm slow to warm up to series.   I'm just now appreciating "Frasier" by buying the series on dvd.  It never fails to make me smile.  It's one of John's favorites as well.

                John and I watch movies over and over because of the emotion they evoke, you know how you're going to feel...there's no surprises like watching something new.  An old movie is like a warm comforting blanket that makes you feel good.

                 Everytime we watch one of Mr. Boyles' performances a part of me will be sad that he has passed away, yet left behind this smile for us and future generations. 

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                    As a child when I went to the Doctor  I imagined they wrote down my symptoms,followed by a trip  to the big room with the computer to find the answer by feeding the list to the computer.   The answer would pop out by way of one of those huge data cards.    This coming from watching Sci-Fi movies on weekends...

                    I had visions of  the  Doctor being all knowing, able to restore health with a shot to my arm or buttocks, and giving me an RX with magical capacities.

                    Imagine my surprise when I grew up to find out that adults are at the mercy of limited knowledge of books, machines, educated guesses, and doctors who hopefully listen and care.

                   Too bad computers can't make  a diagnosis.

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                          Today is Mr. Lou Hirsch's Birthday, a good hearted man and  talented actor.    This has been a bittersweet one for him, his beloved Mother having passed away on October 13 this year.

                          Mr. Hirsch is a remarkable man, and I hope he has a wonderful Birthday!

                         Lou Hirsch On Line

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                      When a friend's loved one passes away, what can one say?    It's difficult to know what the right words.   The link here, says it best:

http://www.geocities.com/scartlady/ar05049.html

                         One of my friends, Don, passed away from a hereditary liver disease when he was 17 years old, his family had signed for him to go in the Army in another state. 

                 Don  was handsome, with olive skin, jet black hair  and green eyes...we'd lived on the same street, sharing the same classes up until the 5th grade, playing kick soccer, just friends.    Don never realized how good looking he was until just a few years before he passed away.   I introduced him to my friend Shelley, who adored him in his early teens.  I remember he was a Sagittarius because he wore the emblem on a chain around his neck. 

                  When the  phone  call came that he'd passed away I remember being in shock.   No, he's too young, it's a cruel joke.   The sadness was overwhelming.   I decided to back off from reality by not going to the funeral, just remembering him as he was, alive and happy.  

                   Disrespectful  not to go to a funeral?  No, I don't think so because he lives in my heart...although Shelley who did go, and wasn't dating him then, told me that five girls from different towns all claimed to be his girlfriend showed up at the funeral.   I'm not really surprised.   You never know who will arrive at a funeral. 

              Some people just barge their way into the funeral, not caring that the family is already upset, but insisting on "showing respect" even if it makes an immediate family member dealing with grief uncomfortable.   That's being insensitive, and not endearing that person to the family member, if they know they aren't wanted there.

                  Years ago I ran across my childhood valentines, those from grade school,  the kind where you make a constuction paper heart, staple it together, open at the top for people to put Valentines in the pocket.   I found one from Don, a girl in a bonnet that said, "Be mine"  in antiquated silver writing, his named printed on the back.  

                I've thought about his parents over the years, wondering how they were doing, dealing with the pain. 

                Death is such a touchy subject.   We want to reach out to people, yet afraid of saying the wrong thing or our words being misinterpreted, we say nothing at all.

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                At the risk of sounding like a lunatic,  I'm going to share something that only my  Husband and a few other people have seen, because I wonder if this happens to anyone else.

             Sometimes when I experience strong  emotion, such as sadness, happiness, anger,  some of the electrical equipment goes out.   Not all of it, just some things like the TV or computer.  The VCR/DVD is still on, the electrical clock is still on, yet,  the  XBox game hubby is playing in the other room has gone out the same time as the computer. 

               This has been going on for years and getting worse, further in range...my imagination?   Possibly.   Hubby & I have both experienced  it on more than just this.  It has  happened in the past at work,  at stores where we shop.

                 It's like an involuntary thing.  Like a sneeze.   An electrical emanation from my body when I get upset that seems to cause a reaction in some electrical equipment.  

                  I'm sure someone has a scientific answer for this, and no it's not faulty electrics or any of that. 

                   I remember watching the HBO special about the 9/11 video that couldn't be shown on the news, and watching those people jump to their deaths from the Tower, along with the stories was just an emotional overload.  

                   The depth of my despair was bubbling to the surface as I realized that someone who loved those people was being put through this, and how would it feel  to be in their place?   Electrical equipment went off, not damaged, just off, but not everything.

                     Think I'm making it up?  That's your right.  Write me off as a psycho.    

                      All I want to know is what is it and why is it doing this when I have strong emotion, this involuntary reaction?

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                   I love making up the premise for movies no one will ever make.   Sometimes I decide to try to write the story, for my own amusement.    The other Journal I have,  has one of those stories.  

                   Here's the premise for one that I  thought would make a good movie and the person I think would best serve the part:

1.     Jack the Ripper is a woman, played by Kathy Bates, married to a Doctor dying from a disease he got from one of the women in White Chapel.  

          Anger and jealousy drive his wife to follow him on his nightly visits to the Ladies of the Night, dressed as a man to fit into the crowd and lure them away later to their deaths, her skill being as a surgeon's assistant serving her well.

            She sheds the masculine clothes that are over her women's wear,  taking a bit of material from each victim, which eventuallly ends up in a quilt she's making.

              The killings stop because her husband dies and there's no reason to kill now.   

                The  quilt  is finished and folded away in a trunk.

                 Years after her death the quilt is sold to a shop, displayed in the front window.    A young wife buys it for herself and her husband, unaware of its gruesome history, or that Jack the Ripper made the quilt that keeps them warm at night.

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                        "Did you know that Steve Irwin died?" said the voice on the other end of the phone.

                 "No,"  I said in disbelief.   I don't remember much of the rest of the conversation.

                 This man, Steve Irwin and his family never knew us...yet his presence was a force for good, his contagious cheerfulness, enthusiasm, energy and love of life.   

                   Steve Irwin had become a dear friend in our lives even not knowing us.     When so much of television is dedicated to the evil and worthlessness of human beings, it was refreshing to find someone who reveled not in killing, but in cherishing every moment of life.   A rare man indeed.   A family man who embraced life on all levels of goodness. 

               I cannot imagine the depth of grief that Terri Irwin is feeling, nor the rest of his family and "mates" as he called them, but they have my deepest condolences.

                Steve Irwin was an inspiration of goodness for many people, and we will miss him very much.

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