Monthly Archives: February 2006

One After 909

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Monday. Bill and I restarted counseling today. This time with a male counselor, Phillip Beansprout, a gay male counselor. We didn’t want to explain all the secret handshakes to a straight counselor so we asked for a new one. We saw the last one tonight, Carol Howell♪ as we were waiting to see Phillip Beansprout. I felt guilty since I instigated the fact I didn’t want to see Carol again.

Bill was cool and stated that she was a professional and it probably doesn’t bother her at all. Once she got in the elevator that seemed to take a mighty long time to arrive, I felt better. The place still reminds me of a sex club, lot of rooms. A man wearing nothing but a towel wouldn’t look entirely out of place there.

Phillip Beansprout showed up and escorted us to the room through the offices. Various other therapists getting ready to see their patients, or getting ready to go home after seeing their patients. It was a larger room than the last one we had.

Bill and I sat on the couch opposite Phillip. His first question, ‘Why were we there?’ was a good one. I started off and told him why I thought we were there. Skimmed over the year and change freeze out by Bill, which led Phillip to ask Bill why things were the way they were. And Bill told him. Then I told him, then Bill told him some more.

Phillip pointed out how sensitive Bill was about things. Everyone is sensitive about certain things in their life, one shouldn’t be ashamed about them nor made to feel ashamed about them.

Phillip seems astute and pretty much in the know. The only thing that had to be explained was ‘feeling’, as in “Bill wasn’t feeling the pre-game entertainment”. Just not into it. A funny thing is the night I first met Bill and we rode the subway together, when we sat on the seat on the train I said to him, ‘I’m feeling you kid’. Here we are years later explaining to a couples counselor what ‘feeling’ means.

I clearly enjoyed Phillip more than Bill did. He did feel ganged up on but the particular problems that we are facing that caused our rift a few months ago was from his non communication in every sense of the word.

The first question asked was ‘Why were we there?’ That is the situation that got us there, non-communication. That is why we were there.

So it was a positive session for me, hopefully for Bill and hopefully for us. I think we’re going to stick with this and see where it goes.

Then there is the sullen ride home. We don’t really talk to each other until we get home.
Such emotional opening deserves some peace. This is only our second session, but I enjoy the fact that once we’re home we’re rested and able to talk about the therapy.

Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? Take what you have learned and go with it. That is what we’re gonna do.

Another The Letter

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My Dearest Elizabeth,

I am so terribly sorry to read about what has happened to your father and his ferret. It seems like only yesterday when he just bought Ulysses. The two got along like a house on fire. No one expected the ferret to have a seizure when they both went out for a drive last month. From what I’ve read in the paper, the coroner stated that your father had gone into shock after Ulysses tore through your father’s hamstring.

It was sad to read and brought back memories of my great Aunt Dorothy and her pet rabbit. The two were inseparable. So much so that during cold winters, the rabbit would drape itself around Aunt Dorothy’s neck, occasionally dispensing dried raisins to children in her neighborhood.

When the rabbit died, Aunt Dorothy had a sumptuous dinner featuring rabbit as the main course. A few guests complained about the meat being too tough, I guess from aging improperly.

Speaking of aging improperly, did you hear about Mrs. Sofronicz? Apparently she was caught with the garbage man sorting out recyclables from regular trash, if you know what I mean. Mr. Sofronicz came home earlier than expected one night to find the garbage laid out all over the driveway. It’s been said that he revved the car and almost ran over the two of them, creating an even greater mess than before.

Mary Beth tells me that Mr. Sofronicz was caught loitering in a rest room at the shopping mall. Imagine that! A banker, hanging out midday in a public restroom. The scandal! Mary Beth said that he paid off the police as well as the press who were tagging along. No one knows if they’ll be having their usual Mardi Gras party this year. We’ll have to wait and see.

My youngest, Todd, has been having a few scrapes with the law, spraying graffiti on public buildings. You might know his ‘Tag’. It’s ‘Todd’. I’ve seen a few of his signings or art works, and they are quite colorful, but lacking something. Todd always lacked imagination. He’s got something, but not that creative spark.

He’s a handful, though a bit slow. His mother wants me to speak with him about his grades. He’s failing miserably in most subjects and we’re considering one of those tutoring companies that they show on early morning television.

I still think he doesn’t apply himself, but then again I didn’t really apply myself either. I was bored, I don’t think he is. I don’t think it’s drugs or alcohol, which if he had a problem with, I’d blame his mother’s side of the family. Bunch of lousy rehabbers.

I’m glad to see your oldest daughter has gotten her GED and finished her community service. I tell you, that girl is going places.

Once again Elizabeth, I can’t say how sorry I truly am about your father. It truly is a shame. He truly loved that ferret, almost more than life itself. That makes it ironic that the thing he loved more than life itself wound up taking his life.

Call me, we’ll have lunch.

Maurice