PSYCHIATRIC TEAM

Kick Ass

Harem

40 years ago today > August 19, 1972

I love you even more today

Carol's Kitchen > Sauteed Shrimp w Snow Peas

A friday afternoon discussion with the all-mighty

Carol & the Prez

A delicious 6 Tylenol evening w Michael Ahearn

Happy Birthday Annie !!

Sophie > Diary of a Southern Belle at the Races

Stella was lame in one paw so it was only the Soph & I who went to watch Carol race in the "Run Like a Mother" event here in Ridgefield on Mother's Day. The 3.1 mile route was to wend its way through town streets, ending up in the very pretty Ballard Park which is in the center of town.

It was a very festive, exceptionally beautiful day as Sophie & I set out. As usual, she was very excited to go on another adventure. I opened a small window so she could stick her head out to feel that rush of air as drove into town. She was clearly enjoying herself.

We found a parking space, & I got out, moved the front seat forward to make room for the Soph to dismount. She waited patiently for me to attach the lead to her collar & then waited for permission to exit the car.

We crossed the street and started down the sidewalk. She pulled ahead on a loose lead with some anxiety but I talked her into slowing down. Soon we entered Ballard Park to find it populated by fathers, children, photographers, balloons, food vendors and more. And the announcer on the loudspeaker trying to rally the crowd. Music was playing, little kids and dogs ran around. Sophie was very steady on her lead.

A lot of people stopped us, asked if they could greet Sophie, commented on how pretty she was and asking about her breed. We heard "Look at the big black dog, daddy" many times over. Sophie put up with the petting without much reaction from adults & children alike but I gently held her muzzle when little kids came over as I don't know her entire background. She was a real trooper & I was proud of her.

As we wended our way to the finish line, Sophie was very busy, looking left and right. There were too many people coming from all sides for her to re-position herself between them & me so she was a bit anxious.

Finally we were at the finish line, I asked Soph to sit which she did immediatly while I extracted the camera from my backpack. Every once in a while -- as I got organized -- I'd praise her & slip her a tiny biscuit. She semed totally calm. Eventually, she lay down on her own.

The time keepers tested the timer mechanism which emitted a shrieking sound but it didn't bother Sophie & I decided to test my shots w the early runners. As the crowds cheered & urged those women on, more people rushed to the finish line where we were. Some of them stepped over Sophie as she lay at my feet. She was a cool customer.

Then I saw Carol, took my pictures of the final few feet and went to give her a congratulations hug. Sophie calmly joined in the fun.

Carol announced she was off to the 'mamacita' zumba class so Sophie & I departed the park. On the way out, the Soph became a bit anxious, scanning the crowds in our path but I felt her anxiety was to be expected at this stage of her socialization with me, four months into our love affair.

Back into the car, we went for a capuccino & croissant & Soph got her share of croissant w a water chaser. She was a great Bouvier companion under VERY fluid circumstances. Never once did she panic. Never once did she yank on her lead as I took pictures or as people ran by. I was so proud of her.

Next: meeting other Bouviers. Ta.Ta......

Run Like a Mother !! Yaaaaaah Carol, I'm so proud of you.

My Nanook in May

Is there a dream doctor in the house?

This dream takes place in a restaurant.

Carol & I & another (nameless) couple are having dinner. Everyone orders appetizer servings of various dishes including fruit balls. There must have been 20-30 dishes covering the table (Russian style) but there were no plates to eat off of.

I was annoyed that everyone was eating out of the food dishes and passing them around. The waitress appeared & Carol asked her for 5 checks (odd since there were only 4 people present).

I left the table to fix the check issue, i.e. I was going to pay for the whole thing since I felt dividing it by 5 was (A) a lot of trouble for the waitress & (B) it was tacky. I also wanted to get plates to eat off of. 

I followed in the direction that the waitress had taken. 

I found myself in another room. While waiting for the waitress, the establishment's manager -- who had been sitting at the bar with a male friend -- stood up & got snarky with me. He put his finger in my face & I did 3 very fast karate-type moves, knocking the finger out of my face, followed immediately by a 'pulled' punch directed at his nose & a circle kick which hit him in the ass -- but not hard. These were meant as 'warnings'

While the manager stood there speechless, his companion 'started up' with me. He was smirking & had a toothpick in the corner of his mouth. I woke up (not really) feeling firm about my reaction to these "threats". Then Sophie actually woke me up. I was calm.

It's Good When You Can Get It

Annual Event > Annie & Carol 2010

A Few Minutes With Andy Rooney (Written before election day when I lost my bid for a seat on the Board of Selectmen, when it snowed & the lights went out...... for 8 days)

From The Ridgefield Press November 10, 2011
Written by Jan Rifkinson 

Win or lose, I wanted to use this space to thank everyone who gave me a few moments of their time, who worked on my campaign, who signed my petition to get me on the ballot, who voted for me. And to congratulate my opponents who were re-elected.

But this weekend another kind of outage interrupted the campaign. Andy Rooney died & I want to write about the few minutes Carol & I spent with him & how we remember him.

Andy Rooney was a principled man. He made his living writing as a member of the Writer's Guild of America. When CBS technicians struck, he was one of the few who refused to cross their picket line.

After an editorial spat, he left to PBS for a few years but then returned to the CBS family. We all respected these things about him.

I worked with Andy & Harry Reasoner on television specials with titles like "Essay on Doors", "Essay on Women". Andy & Harry were good friends. Andy wrote for Harry & Harry -- also an excellent writer -- read Andy's words beautifully.  Both had old Mercedes diesels .

Years later, Carol's office was opposite Andy's. She was working on a program called "West 57th" and Andy was doing his "60 Minutes" gig. Frequently, Carol & Andy walked to the garage together & chatted about the day's events.

And many, many years later, Carol & I were strolling through an antiquing warehouse in Stamford & we spotted Andy shuffling along.

"Mr. Rooney" I called out. He ignored me (he despised notoriety).

"Mr. Rooney", I said again, introducing myself & Carol. "I worked with you & Harry on the Essay Shows." He stopped & we reminisced for a few moments. Then he shuffled off.

That was the last we saw of him.

He was a principled man.

You can't make this stuff up

Check out clerk @ local Stop 'n Shop to Carol who was next in line:

"Please be patient w me. I have A.D.D. & I just had a hysterectomy. "

August 19, 2010 > a wedding story 38 years later as published in the Ridgefield Press

38 years ago, I married 24 year old Carol Renee Phillips in a teeny ceremony on a sultry day in an Universalist Church in Miami Florida. The witnesses, two friends, flew in for the secretive occassion. The date, August 19th, selected because it fell between the Democratic and Republican Conventions, both in Miami that year. No, Carol nor I was a delagate, rather we both worked at CBS News.

 

The minister read from a prepared script that I had written -- an intricately woven combination of Navajo & Zuni marriage ceremonies -- in a fenced garden in the back of the church, under the shade of a Flamboyan tree. It was steamy hot & I was sweating in an open Ralph Lauren sport shirt, blue jacket & tan slacks while my beautiful bride was dressed head to toe in a tailored white lace Mexican wedding dress that fit every curve of her young body.

Afterward we toasted with champagne, signed some papers and went back to our apartment to change into shorts & tees to rest & prepare for the evening's party.

The deal was this: none of our guests could know it was a wedding party as we didn't want them to bring gifts, just themselves.

"Can't I tell anyone I just got married?", my soon-to-be bride had asked during the closely held planning sessions? Only if they ask "what's new or what you did today", I had replied smartly.

 

At the start of the evening, as guests began arriving, I stood outside directing traffic as many merry pranksters had been invited. A few who went in came back out to offer their congratulations. "What for?", I'd ask. "Didn't you have a special event earlier today?" they replied, wondering if they made some embarrassing mistake.

Sensing a rat, I walked into the party only to find my newly minted wife re-dressed in her Mexican wedding gown, waving her left hand around, talking animatedly to our guests.

How in the world could anyone have walked into that room and not have asked a question leading to the formerly unmentionable reply: "Yes, I got married today."

And so gentlemen & young marrieds I say to you 38 years later, the lesson I learned that day is that your better half is, indeed, your better half & you'd best not forget it.

AM Sex

Artwork by my Bouvier friend, Carol Rauch

Early morning sex is a wonderful way to start the day so imagine how I felt this morning with a warm touch to my neck, the sounds of gentle but anxious breathing & a moistness in my ear. It turned out Carol was in the shower...

What a good book can do for you.

I just finished reading an excellent little book called "Losing Mum & Pup" by Christopher Buckley on the subject of becoming an orphan.

I enjoyed the book tremendously as it was honest, funny, profane but when I finished it I think I became a bit depressed.

I started thinking about how claustrophobic a coffin might be & wondered if you could really be sure that the ashes you got back (assuming you went that route) were those of your loved one. I mean, how could you tell? And if I wondered about that, I wondered how I might ever be comforted by having a pot of doubtful ashes on my mantel or side table.

I guess I starting thinking about these things because my father is 97 and is dying very slowly of renal failure. He's not in pain & won't go on dialysis (I salute his decision) so it's just a matter of a short while, maybe months.

Whenever he dies he will be buried in a plain pine box next to his wife, my mother. One way or another, they'll be together again. So much for my thoughts about coffins.

But then I started thinking about Carol's wishes. She says she wants to be cremated & scattered in the Mediterranean. I promised I would do that.  Putting the questions of legitimate Carol ash aside, I then wondered what I would want. Once I scatter Carol, I'll never find her again. If I get scattered, where would I want to be -- the Mediterranean too? Is it comforting to think I'd be in the same sea?

And if I went the Jewish burial-in-a-pine-box route, where would I want to be planted? Ridgefield? Puerto Rico, next to my parents? Hmmmm. Not very romantic & besides, I'm 66 & all grown up now.