Dr. Jay Saves Lives

The other Dr. J

...this year, on the summer solstice, I...(no need to make a big deal about this, folks...I’m sure you all would have done exactly the same thing under the circumstances)...saved a life...

...to be more specific, the life of a young mannequin...like I said, no need to sing my praises for such a selfless and courageous act of heroism, which, no doubt, is exactly the course of action you yourself would have taken, if told to by a qualified CPR instructor...

...nonetheless, anybody so inspired to draw a deep, meaningful poetic connection between the saving of this imitation-life and the summer solstice may feel free to leave it below as a comment...

...more pressing is the matter of my official bio, which, evidently, needs to be changed from

the kind of doctor who, in case of emergency, can explain Faulkner while you die

to

the kind of doctor who, in case of emergency, can stand there for a minute or two looking stupid and thinking “ooooh shiiiittt” before finally stepping to the fore and saying "soooo...ummmm...anybody know CPR?...Like, y’know, other than me?...No? Oh...ummmm...okay...”...then get down on the floor and, we can only hope, remember to pull the head back and squeeze the nose, and recall that it’s two breaths to thirty compressions*...though, if that doesn’t work, we’re of course back to Plan A: “Fragmentation is central to Faulkner’s work. His entire wide and rambling Yoknapatawpha saga may be seen as a collection of fragments attempting some kind of desperate cohesion, themselves often broken up and confused...”**...***

...on second thought, maybe I’ll leave it as is...



* yes, that’s the appropriate ratio...really...get re-certified now...

** actually the first two sentences of Splendid Failures in the Old South, the first section of “One nation: no longer anywhere;” Going Native in Yoknapatawpha, itself the second chapter of my dissertation, “The Painful Task of Unifying:” Fragmented Americas and “The Indian” in the Novels of William Faulkner and N. Scott Momaday...seriously...

*** now that I think of it, change the names and it could also be a pretty reasonable description of this blog...

The Almost But Not Quite Summer Solstice Post

We all know how important the summer solstice is to a wide and diverse array of traditional and modern cultures...

...(at least I think we all do)...(those of you who don’t, please Google summer solstice)...(then come right back)...(we’ll wait)...

...(everybody else, please breathe mindfully and maybe do a couple sun salutations)...

Awright...now, everybody should know that the summer solstice is not, in fact, till Monday...

Yet, with fireflies abundant as beads of sweat on my forehead...(not to mention, hell, if I can’t go to the store in October without hearing Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, three or four days early ain't much)...and in the fervent hope that, like Bob’s Gita Talk, this blog may inspire fruitful and enlightening discussion, I’ve delved into the vast wealth of oral and written traditions, pictographs, and ancient monoliths from around the world to find some ancient, revered, and highly meaningful lines to share on this almost-but-not-quite-summer-solstice...

Callin’ out around the world,
are you ready for a brand new beat?
Summer’s here and the time is right
for dancin’ in the street...
Martha and the Vandellas*

Some thought-provoking questions to get us started:

1) Does the reference to a brand new beat imply a refutation of traditional, cyclical conceptions of seasonal change in favor of a more urban paradigm, as suggested by the evocation of the street as a site for dancing?

2) Should summer’s here and the time is right be understood to assert a prohibitive view toward dancing at other times of the year? Or, are we to understand that it is only during the summer months that the streets are acceptable for dancing, while dancing inside or on the grass are permitted at other times? Might the implication be that streets are the only locations where dancing is condoned during the summer months, indicating a prohibitive view toward dancing anywhere else during this period of the year?

3) Does this emphasis on streets reflect a tension with the then thriving beach party culture (see Funicello, Annette)? If so, can streets be interpreted in a more contemporary context as representing any outdoor area (including, conceivably, the beach)?

4) If we take callin' out around the world literally, should people in the southern hemisphere also dance in the street, even though it's the beginning of winter there, and they might catch a chill?

5) In the lines that follow, particular locations are named:

Dancin’ in Chicago, down in New Orleans,
New York City, All we need is music...

Do these locations embody particular spiritual significance—like Jerusalem, Mysore, Mecca, or the vortexes in Sedona? Should we take this as a call to make pilgrimages to these locations at the solstice?

6) How are we to take the cryptic statement all we need is music? Is the implication that music can sustain life in the absence of other nourishment?

7) Or does it imply that the street dancing here called for is in fact a fertility ceremony, and that, if it is performed properly, at the summer solstice, crops will be abundant and the people’s needs met?

8) Might dancing be taken metonymically to represent merriment in general?

9) Or is it all, really, about sex?

10) William James wrote

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.

What happens when common sense dances in the street?


Please try to keep the discussion civil.



* ...while originally passed down to us by the esteemed Martha Reeves, these lines are believed to have originated with William “Mickey” Stevenson, Ivy Jo Hunter, and Marvin Gaye...though known to many primarily through translations, interpretations, and commentaries by the likes of David Bowie, the Grateful Dead, the Carpenters, and Van Halen...(as well as more gnostic readings by Bruce Springsteen and the Rolling Stones in which racing and fighting, respectively, are substituted for dancing)...




*Those readers whose brains aren't completely overloaded by this highly sophisticated discussion might want to check out my latest at Elephant: Compassion is Complicated, or Idiot Compassion or Generosity*

Weather Report Suite

Winter rain, now tell me why summers fade and roses die.
The answer came: the wind and rain.
Eric Andersen/Bob Weir

...sunshine outside...day before the summer solstice...just moments after acknowledging to friends behind the counter: it’s now official—the weather’s made me depressed...paid, picked up the coffee mug, walked to a window table...and there it was...felt it before I saw it...a warmth and brightness coming in through the glass...

...could only hope it’s shining on my friends at the Clearwater Folk Festival, singing along with Pete Seeger...to everything, turn turn turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn...

...woke this morning half an hour after Saturday morning yoga class started...heard the rain beating down on the roof before even opening my eyes...decided to go back to sleep...

...wouldn’t’ve been so bad if it hadn’t been for the teasing un-wet summerlike yesterday...walking in the early evening, I saw fireflies...fireflies...for the first time this year...

...ended up going downtown for a different yoga class in the afternoon...was sitting around feeling miserable thinking jesuschristIdon’tfeellikedoin’anyfuckin’yogatoday...but know from experience that there’s no better time to do yoga than when you’re sitting around feeling miserable thinking jesuschristIdon’tfeellikedoin’anyfuckin’yogatoday...and it’s true...

...started out by bike, then turned around and got the car...don’t mind getting wet on the way home...just keep peddling to keep warm then jump in the shower and into dry clothes...but getting soaked on the way to somewhere else is different...