Life..when time after time…

we just get it wrong. And in between the few times of joy at feeling what we’ve done comes falling down. The desperation of knowing time is running out to get something right,  there is a sense of failure, disappointment, and sorrow. At revisiting times of selfishness, dishonor, cheapening of the self, faithlessness in who we are or could have become, The tears begin to fall, and cannot be wiped away by the backs of my dampened hand, and fall in amounts that cannot stop of their own free will,


I’ve been debating on posting this ever since the “ME TOO” thing started and finally figured, why not. When I was 12 years old, 52 years ago in Grade 7 at Mountrose School, there were two young boys in our class, who got great joy out of harassing and molesting the girls in the class. They would come up behind the girls, while they were sitting at their desks and wrapping their arms around the back on the girl’s chair and grabbing them by the breasts, pinning them between their hands and the back of their chairs. Sometimes they even tipped the chairs back so that the girls couldn’t get their feet on the ground to escape. I remember telling the female teacher what they were doing and she shrugged it off as one of those boys-will-be-boys things. REALLY!!!!!!……is this how the silencing of women starts?



Claire Rushby

Claire Rushby Virtually the same thing happened in my secondary school (early 1980’s). It has recently been brought back to me because of this ME TOO and it makes me very angry about how it was ignored. Let’s hope the world has moved on and that this IS stamped on in schools now. But I also wonder how the men who did carry out these ‘pranks would now feel if it happened to their daughters / granddaughters?

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Wendy Macdonald

Wendy Macdonald I think that this type of behavior was considered a “right-of-passage” of sorts and therefore, excusable. I posted this is the hope that the two then boys, who are on FB and share some mutual friends, will read it and if nothing else, think about it iSee More

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Sharon Bowden Kingsbury

Sharon Bowden Kingsbury You got me wondering who they were. Who was the teacher then?

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Wendy Macdonald replied · 10 Replies · 4 hrs
Bill Barczai

Bill Barczai Well done Wendy! Sharing this will help change the world!

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Wendy Macdonald replied · 1 Reply
David Heath

David Heath I am sure there are tens of thousands of similar stories that could be told. It is time to hear them.


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Anjou was not unblemished by young males harassing girls in that way, it was a common if not accepted way of demeaning certain young women and would often carry over into the crowd mentality. Many of the guys, for fear of not being ‘accepted’ by their male friends, and who would not normally do such things one on one, would jump in when a ‘gang’ was around. Sad really, I witnessed and was a part of such harassment. Then as cowards are want to do they would begin labeling the girl with derogatory terms. One develops a thick skin when forced to confront and live with such behavior. Time to hear them, and time to change them!

October 31st, 2017  My response comment to Wendy MacDonald’s comment to recent outings, charges and arrests of  a slew of males in positions of power in popular and long sought out after employment males in power and their abuse of women employees or potential employees allowing themselves to be sexually abused/and/or threatened with ostracization from and ‘never’ finding work in this field again! post on the same day about abuses of women finally working their way into the main-stream.
Saving my reply to her post: Adding that these behaviors by men towards women nothing new. It has followed women throughout millennia and will likely continue to for quite some time. It will take generations to out these patriotic and to some degree, by virtue of keeping silent and acceptance, matriarch responsibility has its role to understand,, amend and heal within themselves and women throughout time. No sex, male or female is exempt for its part, they are now, however, responsible for and long overdue in bringing about a justice from within, and paying forward what only they can teach, reach and grant forgiveness  to, by teaching they who ignorantly were taught to dishonor women by forgiveness and moving forward in a new world with both stronger males and females

to be cont.


Happy Holidays To You

No matter what you celebrate at this time of year may love, joy and friendship wrap their arms around you ♥



Crash Boom Boom!

Summer 2014

I’ve been in a few car accidents before, some, one could label as fierce-ish..some mild head bangers and others still not worth the quarter it would take to call the insurance. Having said that the 26th of June left me hanging & swinging askew and upside down from the roof top of a jet that had crashed helter skelter like all over an empty burned out field, with little else than a sticky wet nightie covering me for protection, and nothing else.

I would not crawl down from that state of mind for many years to come.

If anyone or thing can forsee another such crash in my remaining years, I’d rather forgo the lesson, not pass go and land straight on death please.

Kicking Methadone With Johnny Winter BY TED SCHEINMAN • March 24, 2014 • 8:00 AM

This is a post anyone who has been on long term Methadone
could do with reading, well..anyone on Methadone or people
trying to wrap their mind around the very subtle trappings
of it.

So please, grab your drink of pleasure, and anything else you many need
by your side when settling in for a good read and grab
what you need from the words below..enjoy!

Kicking Methadone With Johnny Winter

 • March 24, 2014 • 8:00 AM


How sleight-of-hand—and obsessive-compulsive disorder—helped the guitarist shake 30 years of addiction.

The praetorian entourage that has attended to Johnny Winter over the past decade has one principal brief: Don’t tell Johnny.

Don’t tell Johnny we’re trying to “fatten him up”—a phrase his manager, publicist, and several of his friends repeat like gospel. Don’t tell Johnny what he’s drinking (usually a nutritional supplement like BOOST). Don’t tell Johnny that the croissant we are about to serve him contains a second, hidden croissant inside it. Don’t tell Johnny what time it is, unless you lie and say it’s 45 minutes later than it is.

And, until recently: Don’t tell Johnny that those methadone pills aren’t actually methadone.

In October of 2012, Tommy Curiale left Rick Derringer’s touring band to play drums for Winter. “He was walking around like a skeleton,” Curiale marvels. Paul Nelson, a Berklee-trained guitarist who also studied under Steve Vai, has served as Johnny’s manager, touring partner, and Grand Vizier for over a decade. Nelson paints a yet grimmer picture.

“It was hard to see Johnny like that,” Nelson says. “We’re talking 90 pounds—he weighed 90 pounds back then.” For a tallish dude, 90 pounds is sparrow-meat—especially when you’re about to turn 70.

“The person of course doesn’t know he has OCD, and the OCD doesn’t want to let you know you have it. When Johnny was diagnosed in 2010, we finally noticed the fingers started twiddling.”

It shouldn’t have been this way. Winter entered rehab over three decades ago to kick 10-plus-years of heroin addiction. But he kept drinking. And drinking. And smoking like a Texas brisket-house. Most important, he refused to give up methadone, which helped him establish an illusory sense of control over the keening demands of his body and brain.

The switch came in 2010, when a doctor diagnosed Winter with obsessive-compulsive disorder. And Nelson had an idea.

“It was a ritual,” Nelson says: “’I have to take this, I have to do this.’ Johnny didn’t need methadone; he needed the idea of methadone. So I took his OCD and used it against him to help him. Like the Force in Star Wars or something.”

We’re in Winter’s dressing room in Austin, where he is stealing a moment of rest between rehearsals for Jimmy Kimmel’s show from South By Southwest on Thursday, March 13. Paul leans forward in his chair, interpreter, finisher of Winter’s sentences, the teller of Winter’s tale. Winter is wedged into a pleather couch at an acute angle, his head slouched slightly toward me, a smile under his cowboy hat around which two rattlesnakes are coiled and bare their fangs.

“OCD is a very funny thing,” Nelson says, “because you don’t merely like stuff; you like stuff. So if you’re a smoker, you smoke. If you’re addicted to—I mean he could get just as addicted to a vanilla milkshake as he could to heroin. And, the beauty was, he can stop it, on a dime, if you work things right.” Nelson snaps his fingers: like that. “No different from eating a Pop-Tart every day.”

Call it tragedy, blessing, or fuzzy science: For a certain type of addict, a lesser disorder can prove balm for a greater and far more destructive disorder. As the writer Steve Kolowich once said: “Sometimes you’ve gotta fight the fire you can’t control with the one you can.”

Until the mid-’90s, medical researchers had been slow, even recalcitrant, to acknowledge, or even entertain the idea of, a link between compulsion and addiction. In 1996, Lance M. Dodes, M.D., formerly of Harvard Medical School and a distinguished fellow of the American Academy of Addiction Psychiatry, published a landmark paper in the Journal of the American Psychoanalytic Association that argued for re-categorizing addictions as a “subset of compulsions”:

In my own work, I have viewed addictive behavior as functioning to ward off feelings of helplessness or powerlessness, which are experienced by the addict as terrifying and overwhelming. The addictive behavior reasserts a sense of power by seizing control over the individual’s own affective state. Drug use provides a particularly clear example of a behavior that asserts control over one’s affective experience, but this control may be achieved without the ingestion of a psychoactive drug. Indeed, what is important in addiction, in my view, is to respond to the largely unconscious sense of helplessness and to demonstrate to oneself that one has the capacity to control one’s internal affective experience. For example, alcoholics regularly describe feeling better as a result of simply ordering a drink. I have regarded this as a signal satisfaction (analogous to signal anxiety) of the effort to reestablish a sense of internal mastery….

My experience with over a thousand addicts in inpatient and outpatient settings has led me to conclude that the dynamics I am describing are often present across a wide spectrum of patients.

My thesis is that the traditional distinctions between addiction and compulsion are not justifiable and that all addictions are … a subset of compulsions. This view suggests the treatability of many addictions by a psychoanalytic approach, including psychoanalysis itself.

These notions may seem commonplace, but prevailing notions in the psychotherapeutic community had for too long hewed to a ludicrously outmoded symptomatic understanding of addiction; to quote Anna Freud, writing in 1966: “The behavior of addicts … far from being compulsive, i.e. reactive, defensive … is merely compelling.” A glance at the semantics here is illuminating: What’s the difference between an “impulse” to drink, and a “compulsion” to do so? And why did this quibble over prefixes convince so many therapists that OCD was treatable, while addiction was not?

Nelson didn’t trouble over these questions. Instead, he developed a strategy to use the disorder against the addiction. In concert with Winter’s doctors, Nelson shaved pills with a razor-blade and weaned the guitarist off his dose over the course of a year, then gave him a year of placebo—literally grains of rice inside gel caps—to forestall some manner of compulsive relapse.

“The person of course doesn’t know he has OCD,” Nelson says, “and the OCD doesn’t want to let you know you have it. When Johnny was diagnosed in 2010, we finally noticed the fingers started twiddling, how he’s always blowing—is it trouble breathing? No, it’s anxiousness; it comes with the OCD. And eventually, it can go away with help. There’s been times when he said, ‘Why am I doing this? How come I rub my nose every time I have an autograph signing?’ And now we know.”

“We know, or I know, that with his OCD, the doctor had to tell him that the urge is so strong to go back that if you know what’s going on, then you go nuts with the withdrawals,” Nelson adds. “Johnny didn’t go through withdrawals.”

It worked, he quit smoking, and gained around 40 pounds. One Christmas, Nelson presented him with a small box. Winter unwrapped the box, squinted through his half-crossed albino eyes, and said, “What the hell is this pill?”

“Merry Christmas, Johnny. You’ve been off methadone for a year.”

At SXSW, where a new documentary Down and Dirty: Johnny Winter had its world premiere, this scene—captured in the grainy frames of an iPhone video—played like something out of Frank Capra. There was an immediate standing ovation.

“That was the best Christmas present I ever had,” Winter tells me. “Way the best. I just couldn’t believe it, ’cause I’d been on it for 30 years, and I was just extremely happy. Imagine that—I didn’t have to worry about methadone any more.”

And here, for what may be the first time of the day, Winter makes eye contact with me, as do the twining rattlesnakes atop his hat.

“Have those been the same rattlers the whole time?” I ask. “Like, I’ve been seeing that hat in music videos for years.”

“Aw yup, it’s the same hat. I’ve had it like 30 years. I mean, you don’t change snakes. I don’t know if it’d be bad luck, or what, but I won’t change snakes.” He pauses—am I sounding OCD right now? “These two rattlers work real good. Actually, one come off on the airplane, you see—we lost one of the heads and we found it and glued it back on.” The fingers start twiddling. “I figured, ‘I can’t go out with one snake-head on my hat.’”

“No, you’d look naked.”

Winter laughs. “Naked? Maybe. Anyway I’m gonna miss having someone following me, making a movie and all. I liked that.”

“And now—you just go back to being Johnny Winter?”

The guitarist paused on the idea, rubbed it between his fingers as a grin twisted the flesh of his face. “Yes sir. Which, these days, isn’t really so bad.”

Ted Scheinman has written for the Los Angeles Review of Books, Slate, theParis Review, the Oxford American Quarterly, and elsewhere. His first book of non-fiction will appear via Faber in 2014. Follow him on Twitter@Ted_Scheinman.






Patty Griffin

Patty Griffin, a long time favorite music maker of mine, interviews in the October 2013 issue of Acoustic Guitar .

“Sweet Lorraine”

Songwriter Patty Griffin

Sweet Lorraine the fiery haired brown eyed schemer
Who came from a long line of drinkers and dreamers
Who knew that sunshine don’t hold up to dark
Whose businesses fail
Who sleep in the park
Lorraine who spoke of paintings in paris
And outlandish things to her family just to scare us
Whose heart went pokin’ where it shouldn’t ought
Whose mother could only sppit at the thought of
Lorraine, sweet lorraine

Her father her father would tear out like a page of the bible
Then he’d burn down the house to announce his arriva1
Her mother was working and never was home
Lorraine carved out a little life of her own
Lorraine started working, lorraine went to school
Her mother threw stones at her on the day that she moved

Now isn’t that a very strange thing to do

For someone who never really wanted you

Lorraine, sweet lorraine

Her daddy called her a slut and a whore
On the night before her wedding day
The very next morning at the church
Her daddy gave lorraine away
Lorraine, sweet lorraine

In the battle of time in the battle of will
It’s only your hope and your heart that gets killed
And it gets harder and harder lorraine, to believe in magic
When what came before you is so very tragic
Lorraine, sweet lorraine
Lorraine, sweet lorraine

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