My brother and I got together yesterday (Christmas Day) around noon and drove over to the local cemetery where my mother is buried. We thought it good to pay our respects. My mother would have liked that, maybe even would have expected it. (When she was able, she regularly visited the gravesite of her parents, and eventually her siblings and her husband.) She’s not around to expect it, or to be pleased by our compliance with the ancient rituals anymore. But something of her presence still remains in our memories, and by doing what would have made her happy, we keep her memory happy. Yes, I am saying that our memories of those who were close to us have a life of their own, a life that goes on after the remembered person is gone. I got this idea from Douglas Hofstader in I Am A Strange Loop (regarding his late wife Carol).
After bro and I finished satisfying the memory dynamics within our brains with the ancient graveyard rituals, we decided to stop for a beer. So we drove around looking for a bar that was open. Usually at 1pm in northern New Jersey, that’s not a hard problem. But just about every drinking hole that we could think of was locked tight. We finally found a liquor store that doubles as a bar, and grabbed a seat. There were a handful of other guys watching TV or quietly reading the paper; the situation was amiable enough. My Heineken went down easy.
At the bar, we talked about years past, when it was not so hard to find a bar open on Christmas morning. This would be in the 1980’s and 1990s. There seemed to be a lot more restaurants open then too by mid-day. Now, only a few places open on Christmas, and mostly in the evening. Hmmm, I wonder what has changed. It seems like a move towards public piety, towards a religious holiday that is more “precious” even on the secular front. When did we get so Puritanical? Sort of like Ramadan or Hajj in Saudi Arabia or Iran. Is America going “fundamentalist”? Have we in fact changed because of our unfortunate experiences with extremist Islam?
Admittedly, America is still an extremely secular state, and our culture is still far from being bound by religious fidelity. But I still thought the quiet on Christmas mid-day was kind of creepy (something like a cemetery!). I agree that most people should be with their families on Christmas, but there are still many people who could use a quick break from the family scene (which is not without its own pressures and burdens), or don’t have families to go to at all. Bars and taverns are an integral part of the social fabric of a community, offering a flexible, easily accessible opportunity for human interaction. They offer a relief valve of sorts from the negative pressures that can build up in society’s major social institutions, e.g. the workplace and the family household. Sure, there are some bars that are “dens of evil”, i.e. sales fronts for drugs and prostitution, or places where tragic DWI incidents start. But the great majority are just places to kill time with other people around, where everyone gets home safely. I don’t like it when public notions of religious obligation (or fear of those who would enforce such obligations) shut down that relief valve – even if just for a few hours.
P.S., in the afternoon, I met up with my cousin, and he found another place –- another “social relief valve” — that was open. This was a bar in the local American Legion post where he is a member. My cousin happens to be friends with my doctor, and it turned out that doc was in the neighborhood, as he had to visit the local hospital to check in on a patient. Before returning home to his own family, doc decided to stop by for some quick relief of his own from his workplace and his household. So we three sat together for about half an hour, and I asked the good doctor what he thought about the health care reform legislation now pending in Congress. He said there were some good things about it, but in general it was part of a trend that will cause the extinction of one-doctor private practices like his own. He said that a guy like him has a hard time keeping up with all the regulations and might not be able to make a buck as Medicare and the insurance companies kept on increasing their hurdles and decreasing their rates of compensation. Doc is considering joining a larger doctor’s consortium, where the paperwork and overhead can be shared.
I asked him where it was all headed. He said that medicine on the local level is clearly going the way of the big commercial clinic, of the “medical supermarket”. You will no longer have local doctors who stay in one spot for a lifetime. Doctors will change as quickly as produce managers or meat cutters at your local supermarket. You will be assigned to a doctor for a year or two, until she or he moves on to something else. You won’t have much time to get to know your MD. Their knowledge of you will be almost completely from the records. Medicine will largely be practiced “on paper”. It will be more efficient; but will it be better for the patient? My doctor doesn’t think so. He said that he will try to hang in there, but can’t help but consider retiring early, maybe in 5 years or so (when he would be in his early 60s). Medicine is changing, and he may not want to change with it.
My doctor is not the most personable guy in a white coat, but he isn’t so bad over a beer. He’s a smart guy, and that’s why I go to him. Regarding his diagnosis about the future of local health delivery, I can’t help but wonder if he’s right.
Yes, that’s the kind of conversation that can occur at a bar that just happens to be open on Christmas day.
Jim,
You are 100% right: The memories of those we love who have died do have a life of their own. I tend to think of that phenomenon as part of their spirit still "hanging around." However one conceives it, there is no doubt that those we love who have died still stay with us for very long periods of our life. In my own case some of my loved ones who died almost 40 years ago still remain with me at specific times.
As to visiting cemeteries: I have always found cemeteries most interesting. I look at the grave stones of those I never knew, of those who died 40 or 50 years ago–sometimes more, 100 years ago–and realize at one time they had busy, active lives. What is the story behind their death? One finds mysteries: Two (in one case I saw several) people who died on the same day. What happened? An accident? A fire of some kind? What could have caused their deaths–all related people, all dying on the same day? As one studies the grave stones, one finds life stories filled with mystery.
Then there is the sense of spending some time with the person one came to "visit." At least some little of their spirit still remains with their remains.
As to the taverns not being open any more: A thought–perhaps the business of just a few people on holidays does not cover the overhead of opening the place.
And as regards the good doctor's thoughts on health care: I think he's 100% correct. In my early life I had a doctor for some 30 years. Then he became incapacitated and had to quit "doctoring." A great loss to me. My first thought was to find another doctor that would be "mine" for another 30 years. That has proved to be impossible. Doctors seem to come and go. One moved where it was most inconvenient for me to visit her office. Another I just didn't trust. A third proved to be compatible for a while; then I began to wonder if she was more interested in promoting drug company medications than anything else–although she seemed to take mega-amounts of time with me. She "killed" any relationship with me when I asked her in one situation what she would do if she were in my place. She said: "I'd do anything my doctor wanted me to do." No thank you. This after she insisted on a test I did not need but that put me in the hospital for 3 days. In short the last two times I've just "gone along" with the doctor the situation has been made worse for me. Well, I'm on my fourth doctor. I just wonder how long it will take before I'm on to yet another doctor.
As I see this, if the doctor only knows me on "paper", that puts the responsibility for my own health care squarely on my own shoulders. So I will be the one to make major decisions concerning my health care and not ever simply "do anything my doctor wants."
MCS
Comment by MCS — December 27, 2009 @ 11:45 am
I've been lucky in life to not have many peeple I was very close to die. My father's parents lived in Scotland and I saw them rarely so when they died it was just a distantly related event. My Mother's mother died when I was very young, My Mom's Dad about 20 years ago. I knew him and was sad at his passing. Reading this entry of yours reminds me that it is the time of year to visit my Uncle Joe's grave. it's something my Mom and her sister use to do every year, but they have had a falling out and I don't think that will happen. My other Uncle, Stash, died recently. He had battled cancer for about a year and a half. Everyone was sad to see him go as he was always the joker, always made us laugh at the family picnics. At his wake, they put a selena stick in his hand. (It's a Hungarian thing.)
My favorite doctor story is about about my Aunt Stella, who, coincidentally was married to Stash. She was very sick for several weeks, had gone to different doctors who had prescribed various drugs, but couldn't get rid of whatever it was that she had. I suggested that she go to my doctor, who was part of a small group that included him, two of his sons, and two other doctors. He was an older man, even at that time (the 1980's) and he looked in her throat and immediately said "You've got Scarlet Fever". He then called in his sons and had them look at her so they would recognize the symptoms.
About a decade later, after I had moved out of the area, I went back to that same Doctors group to get my medical records. I was disheartened to learn that the older gentleman had died and told this story to the nurse. She didn't care. But the sons still practiced there,so that was nice. Sad to think that that kind of passage of knowledge and personal attention is going to go away. While anonymous healthcare maybe cheaper and 'more efficient' it doesn't replace that feeling that there is this other human in the world that cares about you.
(another anecdote about the same Doc. He use to joke around with people and one time after I had these tests he comes into the room with a grim look on his face and says… "I've got bad news". I cringed in terror and then he said…… "Your gonna live". I thought he was a bastard at the time but I laugh when I think of it now :-D )
Comment by Will Doohan — December 29, 2009 @ 1:54 am