Yes, Look Back

In this society, looking back is considered very uncool. We are encouraged to be in the present. The past is seen as an obstacle to moving forward. Reminiscence is considered a nostalgic waste of time.We should be looking ahead at the next new path.

I believe most of us are not looking back enough.

How much do you know about your family history? Maybe you know where your parents were born but what about your grandparents? Your aunts and uncles? Can you picture their family life?

I am going to tell you about an incredible experience. I’m going to talk about a pilgrimage, for lack of a stronger term. This word denotes a journey to a sacred place. Actually it can be a simple exploration of one’s lineage. My brother Steve, sister Rita, and I set out on a true pilgrimage to my dad’s birthplace. Steve, an extremely knowledgable historian/Holocaust researcher prepared the groundwork for us. He had fastidiously mapped out our father’s town to the point of fairly accurately locating his exact house. He outlined the path the family took to the concentration camp. My cousin Richard came along as our guide. His presence was invaluable for his multilingualism, personal experience and high entertainment value.

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What Happens in Vegas Does NOT Stay in Vegas


Today I reflect on what happened yesterday in Las Vegas. Nothing else seems relevant. 

What was he thinking? The police say he had no apparent motive.

Was the music too loud? 

Was it because he lost a lot of money gambling? 

Was he hearing voices telling him to shoot himself, meaning that he was psychotic?

As a psychiatrist, there is no way I can figure him out at this point. But what I can do is try to grapple with this tragedy myself.

Do we care about this just because it’s down home American country music fans in our beloved Las Vegas, the epicenter of fun and reckless abandon? Or is it because it breaks the record as our largest mass shooting? 

No. It enrages us because it is no longer an aberration. It has become the norm.

The causes will be investigated, new measures for security to prevent this in the future, blah blah blah. I will leave that for the experts, politicians and the press.

We immediately want to blame someone – ISIS, his mother, his psychiatrist, the gun shop, the hotel security. But that is pointless.

We are all capable of acts of aggression. We need to be aware of that in ourselves. Depression is aggression turned inwards. Should this guy just have been depressed and saved a lot of lives?

When there was a mass shooting of 35 people in Australia in 1996, a massive gun reform action was taken within weeks of the tragedy. There have been less suicides and no mass shootings since. America will never do this – guns are ingrained in our society. The overwhelming majority of perpetrators are male, with their archetypal phallic symbol in hand. The Washington Post reports that agents have not determined if the shooter added mechanical components to a semiautomatic rifle to make it fully automatic…he could have attached a crank that simulates automatic fire, which depresses the trigger faster than the finger and can be purchased online for about $40.

It’s all intellectualization. The fact is that innocent people died. Hundreds are injured, which could mean a lost eye or limb. Thousands will be tragically affected by witnessing what they did last night. Counseling must be started now – immediate psychiatric care has been shown to be crucial in abating symptoms of PTSD. 

While I can write off the shooter as “crazy”, the truth is that mentally ill are more often victims of violence than perpetrators. We will spend months trying to analyze what was going on in his head. 

As a country we should and must grieve for the victims and for us all. The government would like us to stop there. But if too much time passes, people will forget. Nothing will change. I feel there was an undercurrent in the message to the public to respect the deceased and keep quiet. If laws can have an effect on this epidemic of mass shootings, we must do whatever it takes. We must look at a system that works. Let’s ask Australia for advice. 

Gogi Berries Galore!

My best crop this year? Gogi berries!

They contain the third highest amount of antioxidants of all the foods in the world. Gogi berries have five-hundred times more vitamin C than oranges, more iron than spinach and more beta-carotene than carrots. Rare in fruits, they also contain vitamin E. They even have testosterone and have been used for treatment of erectile dysfunction. Also known as the Happy Berry.

Anyone have creative ideas on how to prepare them?

Object of Desire

On my last trip to Ireland we were in a pub every night for music “sessions”. Reciting poetry for me substituted for musical performance, as I am unable to carry a tune or play an instrument. 

My original poetry is a little over-the-top, borderline erotica. I did do a bit of that. This poem by Kim Addonizio rocked the house.  It was such a hit at the pubs, I had to share it with my loveandmedicine readers.

It is a great expression of the opposing forces that drive women and the reason men love us. 


What Do Women Want?

By Kim Addonizio


I want a red dress.

I want it flimsy and cheap,

I want it too tight, I want to wear it

until someone tears it off me.

I want it sleeveless and backless,

this dress, so no one has to guess

what’s underneath. I want to walk down

the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store

with all those keys glittering in the window,

past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old

donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers

slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,

hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.

I want to walk like I’m the only

woman on earth and I can have my pick.

I want that red dress bad.

I want it to confirm

your worst fears about me,

to show you how little I care about you

or anything except what I want.

When I find it, I’ll pull that garment

from its hanger like I’m choosing a body

to carry me into this world, through

the birth-cries and the love-cries too,

and I’ll wear it like bones, like skin,

it’ll be the goddamned

dress they bury me in.