Suspect

     We were driving along a scenic country road between Naples, New Hyork and Geneva, returning to our favorite Seneca Lkae.  The weather had held throughout our vacation but the temperatire and humidity were rising to uncomfortable levels.  Cornfields in this secion of New York SDtate are often borred by blue spruce, which seem to be plentiful in that region.  Our pleasureable ointerlude was intyerrupted when Joyce noted a olicecar closely following us.  She pulled over toward rthge narrow shoulder to allow him to pass.  He remain on our tail so she moved back to the center of the lane.  Still he followed.  Again she moved to the right.  He continued to tail us.  Now he put ion his flashers and Joyce pulled over and stopped.  The offic er left his car and came to the window,

     "Do you know why I stopped you?"

     "I have no idea, officer.  Did I do somethiong wrong???" answered.

     "You were driving 40 miles per hour in a 55 mile/hour zone.  Why is that?

     "We were enjoying the scenery, Officer."

     "You were weaving back and forth.  Where were you going?"

    "To Geneva."

     "In whose name is this car registered?

     "Mine," I offered.

     To Joyce he directed, "Give me your license and registration.

    It took a while to remove the license from her wallet until she remembered she had taped it in.
He toook the documents and returned to his where he checked for violations or worse.

     "You're getting cited for driving too slow," I commented.  "Wait till I tell everyone about this."

     In a few minuites he returned the documents and told us we could go on.  We spent the afternoon walking along Seneca Lake.  A few hours later we started back to Nasples and Cannandaigua Lake.
About hlafway there he was again, following us closely.  Now Joyce was really flustered.

     "What do I do now, travel too fast?"

     "We have to turn left ahead," I pointed out.  "Put on your turn signal."

     "She did but with the cop on our tail, she missed the turnoff.

     "Well, now you've signaled one way and gone another."

      The officer made the turn we had missed and we went five miles in the wrong direction before getting back on track.

     "Do you know why he stopped you the first time?"

     "I still have no idea."

    "He thought you were drunk.  This is wine country.  You were going slowly and weaving."











   
   
   

Doppleganger

     Joyce and i like New York's Finger Lakes.  I went to Cornell, our daughter to Ithaca College, so we are familiar with the Cayuga Lake region.  We have frequented many of the wineries around both Cauga and Seneca Lakes.  More recently we have stayed at resortsd on Skineateles and Keuha Lakes.  Skineateles is by far the nicest town but Seneca the prettiest lake.  This past week we stayed at a magnificent lakeside resort on Seneca Lake and a rustic log cabin on Cannandaigua Lake.Our daughters had given us the stay as a birhday present for Joyce.

     It was at breakfast in the cabin resort that a coupke sat down near us at an adjoing breakfast table.

     "Did you hear how rudely he talked with her? Joyce asked.  "He sounds liuke you do sometimnes."

     "THat's not rude, just the way he talks."

     What do you mean?"

     "He's Jewish and he's from new York."

     "How do you know?"

     "I just know."

     Shortly after that he started a conversation with us.

    "Where are you folks from?" he asked.

     "The Philadelphia area , but I'm origionally from The Bronx. And you?"

     "We live on Long Island but I grew up in Brooklyn."

     "Of course."

     Joe was a business man, about ten years younger than me.  His daughters had given them the vacation at the cabin as a 70th birthday present.


 

   

My dentist W

My dentist W

         W has been caring for my teeth for almost thirty years.  I had broken a large chunk off a molar.  Most dentists would have seen me to an oral surgeon to fet rid of the offending appendage.  W spent several hours rebuilding the tooth.  It is still functional.  W does good work.  He tries to relax me by playing oldies but goodies.  He is my age and likers the old songs.  He also shows me slides of his vacations.  For many years he had a dental assistant.  They fought constantly.

         “I’m going out for coffee now,” she announced each morning after being there only a half hour.]

         “No you’re not.  I need you.”

         “I’ll be back, she responded, walking out the door.

They fought so often I believed that they were married. Last year as his practice dwindled he let her go.

        W is a great dentist but he has one fault.  He is obsessive compulsive.  His cavity preparations, his crowns, his scaling and cleaning must be perfect.  It is not uncommon for him to spend two hours with me on the chair.  I named him “Dr. Relentless.”

         W is closing his office.  “My patients have all died,” he explained.  I am certain that I am his last patient.  My wife and children can’t understand why I stick with him.  Neither can I.  Last week I was in for my regular six month examination and cleaning.  Everything was fine.  We said our good-bys.  Two days later I broke a cusp on my lower right molar.  I wasn’t sure he’d see me.  But he did.  I knew I was in for it this time.

         After two hours he was still drilling.

         “What’s the matter? “ he asked.  “You seem tense.  Am I hurting you?”

         “No.”

        

         “Then I don’t understand why you are tense.”

         “W, you’ve been drilling my head for thirty minutes without a break.  There can’t be anything left of that tooth.”

         Now he was irritated.

         “That’s what I have to do.  I have a lot more to go.  I am whittling away at it.  Machining it.  I have to take off the thickness of the crown.”

         After another fifteen minutes he pushed the drill away.  He then spent hour tooling a temporary crown and fitting it.  "Tap, tap" (my teeth together).  The temporary crown will only be until the next appointment.

          After three hours in the chair:

         “Oh. oh, I see a small pocket of decay in the tooth next to it. That will have to be filled.”

         “W, you are not doing any more today.  Let me out of here.”

         “Maybe your next dentist will be faster than me.”

         “No doubt.”

         At this point my wife looked in.  She had been waiting to pick me up.  I had told her it would probably by a two hour visit.

         “I haven’t seen you wife in a long time,” W remarked.

(She had quit him after one visit twenty-five years ago.)

         “Neither have I, W.  Neither have I.”

(see also “One tooth less.”)

        

        

What's in a Name?

      Joyce never named the wrens.  She's named just about everything else in our yard.  Animals, trees, stray cats all have appelations.  Three receently planted pine trees on the hill are Sam, Sophie, and Burton, all after deceased loved ones.  Rosetta was the rabbit that fell into our egress well and was rescused and nursed by Joyce.  But not the wrens.

     Six years ago when I retired  for the third time my coworkers presented me with a large white birdhouse that we erected on the corner of our dwelling, within easy view of the side porch.  For three years it remained vacant.  In the spring of the fourth year two wrens moved in, presumeably a male and a female.  They had babies and we watched them learn to fly.  Once the newly hatched birds got stuck in the corner of our porch.  I was smart enought not to try to rescue them for fear that the mother woulkd abandon them.  The wrens returned the secoind year and had two broods befoire exiting the birdhouse in the early fall.  This year they returned in April.  We watched them industriously clean out last year's nest  and bring in sticks and straw to rebuild.  I left cuttings I had triummed from decorative grasses and these were accepted and used  by the birds.

     Joyce researched wrens on the web and learned that the male services several partners in different nests. He allows each female to chose which nest she will inhabit.  The are said to place spider eggs in the nest so that the spiders will eat the mites.  They are aggressive, destroying eggs in the nests of other birds.  Bluebirds will not build nests if there are wrens in the vacinity. It is said that the male. who perches himself on the top of the house and sings vociferously,  has over two thousand different songs. I find that hard to believe.  You can't always trust Wikopedia.

     it is now the first week in June and as yet we have seen no babies.   Perhaps it is because the potential parents remain nameless.  The babies may be bastards like Jon Snow in Game of Thrones.
But today I observed sometrhing. different.  Usually it is the male that makes repeated trips to and from the house to the nearby woods and brings back insects to fed the female while she sits on the eggs  This morning I noticed both male and female leaving the nest.  Have the baies arrived?  Should I be ready to pass out cigars? We shall soon see.

     Joyce and I are happy to see them in the spring and disappointed when they leave, without warning. They are like renters in our birdhouse (wrenters?).  We become accustomed to seeing them fly  in and out all summer.  They make themselves at home here. Yesterday the male flew into our open garage.  I must remember to rmind Joyce to give them a name (Aawren and Aawreness?).

CNN news?

     Like many others seeking updates on national and world news, and weary of hearing about yet another killing in Philadelphia, I have learned to rely upon CNN  Not so lately when at any time of day one can rely only upon hearing about the latest "expert" on  the disappearance of Flight 367.  I am certainly sensitive to the torment of families of the missing passengers but do I need to hear about how difficult the search is all day long?  Surely, there are other crises to report.  This is not the CNN of old.  The Indian Ocean is large and deep.  The pings are about to stop.  We get it, Wolf.  Move on to something else.  I am about to switch to my old reliable short wave and BBC.

Origins of Clinical Psychology

     Around 1900, Henry Goddard, a research psychologist  at New Jersey's Vineland Training School had the Binet Simon scale for measuring intelligence  translated into English and began using the procedure for evaluating mentally challenged residents at Vineland.  AA few years later Lewis Terman, a psychology professor at Stanford University, revised the scale to become the Stanford Binet.  The procedure was widely acce[ted as an objective procedure for measuring mental abilities.  Prior to the development of these scale mental ability testing had been limited to measuring sensory acuity--a blind alley which did not predict academic or occupational achievement.  Clinics for assessing mental abilities were established at  many and hospitals.  At New York City's Bellevue Hospital, a psychiatric facility, psychologist David Wechsler developed and standardized an alternative method of testing he labeled the Wechsler Bellevue.  Psychology departments began training psychometricians,who were widely accepted in schools for assessing student abilities.  However, psychologists were not widely accepted for providing counseling or psychotherapy for emotional problems.

     It wasn't until World War II that a shortage of psychiatrists in the armed forces led the Veteran's Administration to begin training psychologists to perform and therapy.  Once psychologists became accepted in this role they began to apply other treatment models.  John Watson at Johns Hiopkins had laid the roots for behavioral approaches in treating fears and anxiety.  Karl Rogers established principles and techniques for "nondirective counseling."  South African psychiatrist Joseph Wolpe came to Philadelphia bringing techniques of treatment he believed derived from Pavlovian principles of conditioning.  In the 1960s and '70s, Albert Ellis in New York City and Aaron Beck, at The University of Pennsylvania cognitive therapy as an and proven treatment approach.  Clinical Psychology had now proven itself as a useful and effective mental health resource.

Changes in Psychology

     Watching the movie The Book Thief triggered memories that the source book did not because of the use of German expressions.  These expressions were familiar to me for a number of reasons.

 As a doctoral student at The University of Pennsylvania it required that I pass a German translation test.  I had a good background in French from high school and college but had never studied German.  There was an introductory course offered but I opted to purchase a text and teach myself enough German to pass the test.  I had one great advantage,  I grew up in a multigenerational household.  My  grandmother spoke Yiddish as well as Polish and English,  She reverted to Yiddish frequently and I learned to translate but never speak the language.  Yiddish is very similar to German.

     I was given a page to translate from the writings of Wilhelm Wundt, the father of experimental psychology.  Wundt was a student of the eminent physiologist, Helmholtz. Wundt became interested in subjective experiences and began performing research in that area.  He founded the first laboratory in experimental psychology in 1879 and termed his approach "Introspectionism."   I was very familiar with his research.  This knowledge plus my Yiddish background, and my own German textbook review pulled me through the exam.

     I doubt whether psychology doctoral students today are asked to translate German passages.  But in 1956, when I started at Penn, a doctoral degree was a rigorous  academic achievement.  The scientific method was a primary focus but Penn as well as other top Psychology Departments had not completely abandoned the old European and particularly German tradition. As an undergraduate Psychology major at Cornell I learned that Wundt's student, Titchner had emigrated to The United States and became a professor at Cornell.  I was told he lectured in academic gown.   He became Chairman of The American Psychological Association.  During the early part of the twentieth century, John Watson at  Johns Hopkins was developing behavioral approaches and Sigmund Freud,  in Vienna, was invited to lecture at Clark University to describe psychoanalysis.  However Titchner kept a tight reign over academic psychology and refused to allow any practical applications of the new science to be discussed at meetings ("Verbotten")

     Today, Psychology has branched out into many applied areas.  Clinical Psychologists insist upon evidenced-based treatment methods.   Universities still endorse excellence in scholarship but the old German academic tradition is long gone.