"America" and The Shrink

At the end of the magnificent "America" night at the fabled Hampton beach casino, Sir Eric of Swenson loaned me his America CD.

I have listened to it incessantly since. These boys have really gotten under my skin.

The last three songs are "Sandman," "Sister Golden Hair," and "Horse With No Name."

Bing bang boom.

I listen to and enjoy the entire CD except for Muskrat Love which Eric has taught me to hate because he hates it. I don't even know what the song is about, I just skip the damn thing.

So the music beautifies me until the end when those three songs knock me off my axis.

I'm driving to see Super Shrink this morning and "Tin Man" begins to play.

"Oz never did give nothing to the Tin man, that he didn't, didn't  already have."

I was knocked senseless and drove off the road into a stand of trees, bounced off a boulder the size of Montana and settled on the edge of a precipice that promised to plunge me to a broken and bloody death.

Or something like that. My memory is not quite clear regarding this incident.

BOOM. The shrink is Oz and I am the Tin Man.

He is not creating or reinventing me. He is hacking away with a sledgehammer and a scalpel, trying to uncover the Joe buried beneath the bile. He is not giving me anything that I don't already have. He is trying to expose the truth and hold a mirror to it so I can get comfortable with myself.

The process fascinates me. I thought I would reveal my wicked twistedness and he would burrow into the past attempting to uncover the source of so much poisonous thought and behavior.

I was afraid I would find out that during my formative years my parents locked me in a closet for 23 days of every month feeding me only cock-a-roaches and rancid water.

Instead he is starting with who I am now and trying to change the way I think, perceive, act and distort. By steering me to the truth.

It was another good session. I never know how the conversation is going to go. Last couple of visits I wondered along the way what the hell I was going to say. How can I avoid repeating myself?

It doesn't wok that way. He asks me how the week went, I tell him and that leads us down a specific road.

He is very good at that. Making me aware of changes he is seeing, reminding me of traps I continue to fall into, based on real life.

He makes me think. This is what I like best.

My brain is hungry for direction. It wants me to change but needs a new perspective to work from.

The old perspective is covered with rust and blood and is useless and self defeating.

He gives me a new perspective.

It was a good morning today.

My brain is simultaneously nourished and famished. Each new thought creates desire for more new thoughts.

"America" and Super Shrink. A potent combination that eased me into a beautiful Wednesday and away from my poisoned self.

Can't ask for more than that, baby.