Last fall, I started writing two blogs in addition to this one. It seemed to me that there were too many topics I wanted to write about, and I figured two additional blogs would help me to be more organized in my thoughts.
It's worked for me, too. But there are still times when the topics I want to write about overlap. This is one of those times.
I guess, in part, it's due to the Easter season, with its emphasis on life and death and resurrection. How can one not think of death when the crucifixion is such a prominent part of the season?
And, as I mentioned yesterday, Easter was the last time I saw my mother. She was her vibrant, healthy self when I saw her, robust at the age of 63, but a flash flood took her life in May 1995. It has been inevitable, I suppose, that I have thought of her on every Easter since then.
And, in the days leading up to Easter, Americans were shaken by the highly publicized deaths of two young people — a rookie pitcher for the Los Angeles Angels, who died in a car crash at the age of 22, and an 8–year–old girl, who was murdered and then was stuffed in a suitcase that was submerged in a pond.
And, here in Dallas, it seems we're always hearing reports of young people who have died. Case in point — 16–year–old Kimberly Martinez, a sophomore at W.T. White High School, died in a car crash early Sunday. Her boyfriend and his brother–in–law picked her up at a party, and their vehicle struck a utility pole. Speed and alcohol appear to have played a role.
The unspoken assumption is always that one will live to a ripe old age, but that is not the case for everyone. We manage to put that unpleasant thought out of our heads until we are confronted with another example of how brutally unfair life can be.
Sometimes life can put us in a funk. I've been thinking today of an episode of "Frasier" that seems appropriate, and I've posted a clip from it with this post. That's where the overlap in this comes in. Typically, I would post something like that on my entertainment blog, but it seems to me that "Frasier" often strikes just the right note and transcends my feeble attempts to categorize things.
Maybe that is because Frasier is a psychiatrist. True, he's somewhat self–absorbed and his stories are entertaining, but he often manages to come up with the answers to the questions we all face. In the clip I've attached to this post, Eddie the dog was despondent and, in an attempt to discover the reason and restore him to his perky self, a dog psychiatrist was brought in.
Frasier and his brother, both of whom are psychiatrists, resisted the idea. They believed that an animal psychiatrist is a quack.
The episode examined some other points about the relationships between people and their pets, often in a humorous way. I've always enjoyed the part of the episode where the dog psychiatrist asks the members of the family what Eddie would do as a human. He wanted to know what Eddie the human would serve at a dinner party — Martin thought he would serve meatloaf and Daphne speculated it would be poached salmon, but skeptical Niles insisted those entrées "might be underdone" because Eddie couldn't reach the knobs on the oven. When the psychiatrist wanted to know what Eddie the human's first words would be, cynical Frasier suggested, "Give me a breath mint!"
Then, when the dog psychiatrist wanted to know what kind of cologne Eddie the human would wear, Martin figured it would be Aqua Velva, but Frasier said it would be "toilet water." Niles chimed in, "Same answer for 'favorite beverage!' "
The story also gave the characters a chance to explore the debate one often hears between dog owners and others, in which dog owners insist that dogs understand what is said to them. Watch this clip. It's short, but it manages to pack a lot into a brief visual moment.
How easily the conflicts in life can be resolved, though. As it turned out, Eddie's problem was that his favorite toy was buried beyond his reach under sofa cushions, prompting Frasier to advise his caller to "take a tip from our dog friends and treat yourself to your favorite toy."
Or, perhaps the words from a Frank Sinatra song express it just as well:
"Don't you know that it's worth
Every treasure on earth
To be young at heart
For as rich as you are
It's much better by far
To be young at heart
And if you should survive to 105
Look at all you'll derive
Out of being alive."
Whatever your age may be, it's good advice to be young at heart.
I don't mean to be blasé about this, but the Grim Reaper will come whenever he chooses. There's nothing to be gained from hastening his arrival.
In the meantime, treat yourself to your favorite toy.
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