TandC Associates, LLC

While the major part of relating to men and women in their fight against the demons of mental illness must be a serious and hard-hitting effort, there is also a place, in fact a need, for humor. Sometimes the best way to combat the expression of suffering is to “shock” a change through humor. Such an approach can only be effective, in our judgment, when a trusting and understanding relationship has been formed.

Robert was a man given to expressing his “lamentations” at the drop of a hat. Often, my approach, especially when he lamented in public, was to ask his permission to stomp as heavily as I could on his left (or right) foot. Usually, his response was to look at me strangely enough for me to ask again. Almost immediately after the second time, he invariably paused and then gave a large grin and changed the subject to something more relevant to the situation.

Peter, on the other hand, reversed the roles, as humor was a large part of his life and was often expressed with his composing and sending stencil-printed cards, celebrating both events and non-events, to wit:
____________________________________
|                 THIS IS A FREE CARD                  |
|                     It’s not good for                         |
|                 Anything – it’s just                         |
|                             FREE                                |
|      TO: Thomas J Malamud 15 June 1995    |
|___________________________________|

Grace had a droll self-deprecating sense of humor. She would comment about something she didn’t understand by exclaiming: “That went over my head like a gown!” My hunch was that she really did understand, but wanted to have a little time before responding.

Nicknames can be a humorous way to acknowledge the depth of a personal relationship, to wit:

Richard, all 6’6” of him, got a kick out of his nickname –“Tiny”

Steve always responded with a smile to the nickname “Steverino”

Danny U. who never gave up; worked until the day he died. He hadn’t worked for years, had long hospitalization, came to program, had a couple of TE placements, then went to full-time at Newsweek magazine and got married. He always chuckled when I would call his home and ask for “Ungerungerunger”. When he would check in with me he would always identify himself the same way.

Mark was the “Ace”; I was the “coach”

Maria B said that she was the “bane” of my existence.

George sometimes got so concerned about achieving his vocational goals that he would become almost paralyzed. At these times, all I would need to do was to mention “the plan”, “What is the plan, is this part of the plaaaaaan (sic)”? George would stop, begin to smile, and invariable say: “it is not part of the plan, it is the plaaaaan (sic)!” Making a joke did not deny the importance of the issue; it provided the kind of relief that made further action possible.

Fred, a deaf member of Fountain House is a hulk of a man, about six foot two, 250 pounds and a bright happy fellow who has become well trained in the use video equipment. He pretty well sums up the importance of humor as follows: “(Tom) would joke and tease me and sometimes stick his foot out and pretend to make me trip. (He) would have different games and fun things in his office. I remember the cute little monkey he had in his office. I like the monkey because it would bang on the drums and move around. I also liked the other things in Tom’s office because (he) likes to have fun. Tom would always include deaf members, and when he wanted to talk he would always get the interpreter.”

Vincent was as close as anybody at Fountain House came to being a ”flower child”. He was a strange, mystical, most intelligent, contrarian who certainly marched to his own drum. Vincent joined Fountain House very early, around 1950, after some years of hospitalization and never was hospitalized again. He had no desire to be employed in the usual sense of that word, choosing rather to follow his unique path to fulfillment. He married Margaret (another very bright member), they lived close to Fountain House for a number years until he was run over by NYC bus. Among his many attributes, he was a prolific composer of fables, about which it has been said:

We read Vincent… because through his work we may grasp an historical perspective. (He) is our Dead Sea Scrolls, the key, the missing link: it is he who magically embodies, through his subtle epigrams, the living pulse of American literature in unbroken continuity from last generation to this.  (David Latimer, in his Introduction of “Fables” by Vincent, published by Come!Unity Press, New York, NY, 1973.)

                                          Vincent   (Photo from “Fables”)

Here are some of his fables:

Once a dog had a bone. He was satisfied with it until he saw a dinosaur skeleton in the museum.
Moral: There can be too much of a good thing

Once a bird found a rock and sat on it for twenty years. He kept it warm and nice but it didn’t hatch.
Moral: Such perseverance for nothing

Once an intruder was making a lot of noise on the roof. The householder went up and this dialogue ensued:
“Who are you?”
“Mumble, mumble.”
“I don’t care who you are, get those goddamned reindeer off my roof!”
Moral: No telling who you’ll meet in the winter.

Once a lost bird flew to Algeria. The crows received him with open arms and wings extended in friendly solidarity.
Moral: Algeria’s okay if you’re a bird.

Once a flower sat in a bed of skunk cabbage. He made the air nice and sweet but a little girl came along and picked him off.
Moral: Don’t be too noticeable or you’ll be “offed”.

Once a dog had a bone and he hoarded a lot of them but he wouldn’t give anyone else any so the other dogs ganged up on him and took all his bones and stored them away for themselves.
Moral: Comes the revolution everyone has bones.

Once a pig and a wolf fell in love and got married. The pig had a large salaried position with the police department and the wolf fell right into his orbit. Their parents thought they were incompatible but they turned out to have some things in common.
Moral: Some pigs are wolfish and some wolves are piggish.

As usual, this posting is part of a larger body of work pending publication.  Any quotation, or reference to it (or others) must be made with the authors’ permission, which may be obtained by contract through the e-mail listed below:

tandcassociates@gmail.com

or by contact via the URL below.   Readers’ comments and feedback are welcome by the same means, which will be edited and published for further discussion.