terrific bob, just terrific
>
>Reply-To: Parkinso 09 21 00……………………..Manhasset Press
BERNIE'S BANTER…………Bernard Klainberg
Professor Morrie:
A week or two ago, Jack Lemmon, a much beloved actor and human being, won an
Emmy for portraying the late and great professor Morrie Schwartz. The film
was based on the book , "Tuesdays with Morrie", a best seller written by a
former student who visited prof. Schwartz regularly as he lay dying of
ALS.("Lou Gehrig's disease")
In the 1980's we were privileged to meet Morrie several times as he was one
of our daughter's favorite teachers at Brandeis University. Then, Danielle
saw Morrie on Mondays and Wednesdays. He imparted his knowledge and wisdom
with great enthusiasm, and was much loved by the students lucky enough to
attend his classes.
Dancing
Once, we met Morrie on the street in Cambridge, Ma., and he gleefully
related he was coming from his regular dancing class. Born in the Bronx, he
had been dancing since the l930's an activity he thoroughly enjoyed and
recommended.
When we knew him he was in his early seventies, and already having a few
problems swallowing and walking. The ALS debilitated and crippled him
rapidly. We last saw him at Danielle's graduation where he mingled and
interacted with the students and parents.
Wisdom of Morrie.
His inspirational wisdom is amply represented in his book, " Morrie, in his
own words ".He preached to live fully for the moment. Morrie said: "remember
always that 110 years from now, no one alive today will be around", and
"learn how to live, and you'll know how to die, and when you learn how to
die you will learn how to live".
As a fellow neurological sufferer one can empathize with his later
pronouncements on dealing with his devastating disease , using one's mind to
prevail over physical conditions. He said ,: "If I need a glass of water,
and no one is around to serve it to me and hold it while I struggle with the
straw, I will think on it, and come up with a rational interpretation on why
I don't really need it at this time ".
Nightline
About five years ago and close to 80, he appeared on three special
"Nightline" shows with Ted Koppel. His activity before dying was
predictable; to teach the ill to talk about and openly face their illnesses.
His message was also directed at the caretakers, and close friends and
relatives.
His teachings paved the way for ordinary sufferers (and celebrities Michael
J. Fox ) ,to "come out of the closet" and face the struggle ahead. Michael
and Mary Tyler Moore have been testifying in Washington, demanding a strong
research program for Parkinson and Diabetes, and they have rejuvenated the
quest for a cure.
Marching for Morrie
And so, come Sunday September the 24th, we will again be in Central Park,
5th Ave. and 72 St. entrance, marching for a couple of miles, supporting the
eradication of Dr. Parkinson's legacy.
Humor
To cope with his ailment Morrie surrounded himself with humor. He watched
the wackiest comedies , had hilarious books read to him, and looked for
jocularity in any situation. Morrie's other resolve was to continue writing,
and he did so till he was totally incapacitated.
Work we got plenty of, insofar as humor is concerned, we are fortunate
this year to have the approaching national and local elections to mock. It
should be easy to revel in worthwhile, controversial fun., politicians are
such clowns. We hope that along the way some will laugh with us or be
insulted or at least annoyed.
Item:
Buchanan,(he of the bulldog visage, and renegade Republican )had
problems getting a good vice presidential candidate. Buchanan declares often
he "wants to rein in the Washington administration, and put Government on a
leash". Well ,he can have my dog to run with him, Jeb the nutty Westie ,
aka Attila. He has been acting demented lately and would be right at home
with Buchanan.
n's Information Exchange Network <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: non pd? some new poems
>Date: Sun, 24 Sep 2000 11:25:20 CDT
>
read banter at; http://pages.prodigy.net/nursemarilyn
> PD & ME
>
>Like a snake, slithering silently up on it's prey
>Or a sneak thief, cowardly slipping away
>something begins to steal my body from me
>First, part of my vision disappears, so I can no longer see
>not fast, oh no, that would merely be bad
>but so slowly I didn't miss what I no longer had
>Until I finally lost so much sight
>that even the day resembles the night
>Test followed test
>And one doctor follows another in giving his guess
>But none know for sure, and life goes on
>it's just the peripheral vision, not that much can be wrong
>and nothing else seems to be touched,
>perhaps this is why I seem to fall so much,
>Maybe it will stop here...
>But that doesn't quiet my innermost fear.
>And next my legs don't want to work, and the feet curl inward
>Walking is so hard, and my movement is hindered
>And falls come more often, along with broken bones
>Days are bad enough, but at night I can't hide the moans.
>More tests, more doctors, more guesswork
>and still no one can give me a name
>Doctors still trying to outguess other doctors
>Like it's all some type of game
>Then a foot starts shaking, and never stops
>A hand curls up, and strums my shoulder a lot
>and more tests follow, with more guesses and still no answers ,
>is it my imagination, those sideways glances?
>With the guesses come prescriptions and bills
>One wears out, but the other never will
>and another diagnosis, with a brand new pill
>But this one is great, and for four hours at a time
>my old body is back, and it's really like mine
>Oh what a joy, to run and play ,or ride and drive,
>And for the first time in years, I feel really alive
>But the price I pay, not just for doctors and meds -
>When the pills wear off, that's the time I dread
>Helpful strangers staring, or calling for help
>Me feeling so freakish, pain making me yelp.
>Inside I'm still me, a cowboy at heart
>But no one can see that inner part
>My face is a mask, my limbs twisted and locked
>and if some brave soul touches them, they feel like a rock.
>And the meds aren't a cure, they just hide the symptoms
>and the disease waits inside for when they are no longer effective
>to spring out of hiding, like a curse or invective
>During the long nights, when the pain is so bad,
>I stare at the stars, and wish I could get mad
>at God or fate, or whatever might be
>Cause something is to blame, could it be me?
>As I've already said, inside I'm the same,
>But sometimes I wish so badly I had something to blame -
>something to take this hate from my heart
>and ease the pain of existing, at least in part
>But there is no cause, no virus, no cure
>Of this lousy fact the damn doctors are sure
>so they raise the narcotics, to keep down the pain
>Who cares what goes on, inside the brain
>And tears stay inside, mostly unshed
>Along with the other monsters in my head
>And I know the day will never come true
>When the man who is inside, will be the same man you view.
>So next time you see someone strange on the street
>Look them in the eye, don't stare at their feet
>Cause inside, to them, they are still the same
>and your "kindness" of not staring, causes so much pain.
>that the tears inside fall like rain.
>
>bob armentrout, copyright 2000
>
>
>
>
>
> A NEW MOON
>
>A new moon is rising
>above the hill tops
>they call mountains here.
>I sit in an old boat,
>thinking about the two of you.
>Your years together,
>and the changes
>that's been made in your world.
>I think of Grandpa, moving to Texas,
>and old model T trucks.
>And I wonder how many back then
>would have scoffed at the idea of a truck
>driving 70mph,
>or gasoline costing $1.90 a gallon.
>And I wonder how the two of you met,
>and how he proposed to Grammer.
>I remember driving by that big old house in Nixon,
>and wondering what stories it could tell.
>About two boys and a girl, all who grew up,
>moved away and graduated college.
>Or about a little boy being chased around an outhouse by a goose.
>And I think about families getting together to kill a beef
>because there wasn't any other way to keep meat fresh.
>Farming all night, and working all day,
>to keep food on the table
>And I think how lonely Grammer must have been
>when Grandpa was in the south pacific
>and what a joyful time it must have been when he came home.
>Then I think of all the years and adventures I can remember -
>camping trips in tents and pop-up campers
>Colorado and Canada
>Mexico and North Dakota
>Fishing, and watching Grammer catch the biggest fish
>always just using an old cane pole.
>And I remember her black eye,
>and tying a deer's legs together with her scarf.
>And Grandpa teaching me how to roof a house,
>fix an engine
>and be a man.
>I think of old engines, and holiday dinners
>Knitted sweaters and trips all over the nation,
>And two laps, always available,
>there in a rocking chair,
>whenever you needed a hug.
>I watch the moonlight dance on the waves,
>showing black and silver
>and I know it's shining on you tonight too.
>As I think of all the memories you've given me,
>I know I've truly been blessed,
>to have the two of you for grandparents,
>and I send you my thanks and my love on your anniversary
>I hope you have a wonderful day together.
>bob
>bob armentrout copyright 2000
>
> BLUE EYES
>
>
>Two sets of blue eyes haunt my dreams
>Both brim with unshed tears
>Both with a claim on my soul
>Both declaring their love for me.
>One has the comfort of years' past on her side,
>The soothing feelings of the familiar,
>and the knowledge of a shared life
>But those blue eyes were also blind
>to so much pain and loneliness.
>The other blue eyes are full
>of compassion and love.
>They don't come with the benefit of shared experiences,
>Or the ease of the familiar
>but they see so deeply inside me.
>One will cry with joy,
>the other will cry with pain.
>Tears will fall, and hearts will weep.
>Time will ease the pain
>and joy will be seen in both sets of eyes.
>But blue eyes, brimming with tears,
>Haunt my memories.
>
>bob armentrout copyright 2000
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