Men Hate Shrinkage As Much As They Like Playing With Fire...

CS is a shrink. She has a very non-shrinky blog, called Another Tangential Thinker that she dabbles with. She's rather smart. She's very human and approachable (at least cyberly), and she has a wonderful eye for odd or humorous signs and juxtapositions. If I knew her in person, I get the feeling she'd straighten me right out in no time. I'd get away with about-- ZERO. I'd be called on, for all of my BS. I'd have to face up to stuff the way a kid faces up to a broken lamp...

I'd say "Huh? Who ME?"

The cool thing about CS for you fellas out there, is that she is single, loves beer, and looks good in jeans.

And she's not afraid to mix it up a little, cerebrally or out on a hike.

She was offering up five questions to any blogger who wanted to be interviewed. Normally, I just want to write my stories and I try to avoid me me memes.

But who could pass up five questions from a shrink? I certainly couldn't.

Here is her email--


It occurs to me, Scott, that it is probably not wise to ask a shrink to interview you because you are unlikely to get the questions you might expect. I'll leave out the questions I ask professionally (Do you ever feel bad enough to think about hurting yourself? Do you ever hear or see things that you know aren't there?) and go with this odd set:
1. If you could change anything about the way you were parented, what would it be?
2. Having traveled about a bit, would you relocate if you could, and if so to where?
3. No ex? No kids? How come?
4. You're a pretty prolific blogger – what got you into that initially?
5. Tell a story about yourself that doesn't involve violence or porn.

And here are my answers, though, I swear, tomorrow I write a story...

1.If you could change anything about the way you were parented, what would it be?
(Aha! A sneaky shrink question!)

My parents were exceptionally reasonable people who did the best they could with what they were handed. I mean, imagine getting confronted with my brother Steve (arsonist extraordinaire)and I (quiet mastermind of untold mischievisms)?

The truth is, I have no parental horror stories to lay on people. There were some troubled years when Mum and Pops divorced, where Mum needed her kids to be her parent, and Pops can be accused of becoming less available when he remarried his second wife, but all in all, I always knew I was loved and I never felt "cheated" or "wronged" by my parents.

If anything, Mum taught me to be compassionate and empathetic to all those less fortunate than we were, and Pops taught me to stand up for basic levels of right and wrong.

I guess if I were to ask for more from my parenting, it would be that my parents were more intellectually inclined. Ours was never a deep-delving dinner conversational family, and I think I would have enjoyed the discussions.

2. Having traveled about a bit, would you relocate if you could, and if so to where?

(Hmmm. Is there a shrink trick here?)

A year after high school, I left home and roamed around for about fifteen years non-stop. After that, I never really settled down, the way some people do. I'd say the last ten has been almost, sort of, like normal folk, though I get twitchy still.

In the back of my mind, I figure I'll do my "olden years" on the road again, checking out things I know I want to see. The last five years or so, I've been socking away money. I think if I "relocate", it will be to a different state of being, rather than just a place.

Who knows?

I've actually been practicing being where I am as much as possible, if that makes any sense.

3. No ex? No kids? How come?

(Hmmm...)

I've got "ex's", I've just never been married. Marriage seems so "institutional" and "legal", and "formal". If there is one thing I am not, it is "formal".

But the truth is, I've been ready to have my arm twisted the last ten years, it just hasn't happened the way I would have allowed it to.

I am wary about mentioning anything about someone I've dated, out of respect and fear both.

You could say I am an unwilling jockey, or you could say I picked the wrong horse and entered in the wrong race on the wrong Sunday.

Both would be right.

4. You're a pretty prolific blogger – what got you into that initially?

(Hmmm... I first read that "terrific". Must have been a Freudian thing).

I got my first computer about the same time the Iraqi war started. I had never been an inside, sit down, type of guy. I usually worked, then used the evenings and weekends for sports and beer. (Did I mention I like sports and beer?)

Anyway, my father was in the UN a long time ago, so I've had an interest in the region since childhood. I got online and checked out Iraqi blogs that were popping up. I became a bit of an online moderate voice on many sites. I was remodeling a house on a hill that had sucked most of my money into it and I had no TV. Nights were spent making my fat fingers learn to type and poking some fun at extreme views with a sharp stick.

After awhile, the preponderance of death wore me out, and I wanted a break. I started AELEOPE to remind myself and others, that life does exist here on planet earth. I have a head full of stories that people like to hear me tell, and I figured I'd better get them down before I get conked on the head and forget they ever happened to me.

5. Tell a story about yourself that doesn't involve violence or porn.

(Teehee! I'm not sure if I can! Let me go grab a beer, beat up the neighbor, have sex with my dog and I'll get back to ya shortly...)

OK. I'm back.

Nobody told, right?

I once sat in my Junior College cafeteria listening to these two guys talking. Their faces were familiar, but I was having trouble placing them. They started talking about youth league soccer, and their conversation zeroed in on one kid in particular. A long-legged kid with long girlie hair and skills that only one or two other players in the league back then possessed. The one guy was trying to get the other guy to "remember" the guy he was thinking of. My ears started burning when I realized that he was remembering ME! (and the things he said were extremely flattering and also quite true). I was always the high scorer on my team. I also had the most assists. Until we moved away to Florida, I always played striker or center midfield, and I had a booming kick very few others had. Blah blah blah... accolade blah blah accolade blah blah... The one guy really talking me up to the other guy, the other guy not coming to grips with the memory, and me just sitting one table over, wondering when the appropriate time would be to interject into the conversation and tell them both it was ME! they were talking about.

I was waiting till the one guy ran out of accolades to cut in. The other guy was still not having the aha! experience he needed to remember me. The guy doing the describing started to grow exasperated, and he said this, which I'll never forget--

"Oh come on man! You gotta know who I'm talking about! You know, the guy with THE BLOCK HEAD!"

I thought it best not to interrupt their lunch over the triviality of identity, just then...


ADDENDUM-- I forgot to mention. CS took the picture of that sign in my banner. Scott's Place. Home of BIG! It makes me all gooey knowing she was thinking about me...