Here’s Why Positive Psychology Doesn’t Work
Matt McShane Sabatino Mangini English Composition 100 Introduction: My Entry into Three Good Things I’m running late for school, once again. I’m blaring my iTunes music on my phone instead of listening to the radio in my car. Anxiety is flowing through me as I start to think that I will be late for Sabatino’s class. Today, we were supposed to be talking about a journal activity called the “three good things” project. That’s where you write down three good things that happened to you for every day of one week. But as I round the turn in the bottom of my development, disaster strikes. I hit a storm drain at almost thirty miles an hour, and my back right tire explodes with a loud bang. I click on the four ways, and jump out to examine the damage. “I need to get to school today” I sigh. “Today’s the day we’re talking about positive psychology and the “three good things” project in Sabatino’s class. I can’t miss that”. So, I go back around to the driver’s side of the car, and I get in and cruise away, at a slow twenty miles an hour, all the way down Gradyville Road. And you know what? I just made it in time to class. But through the morning drive to school, I thought of something very important. Does positive psychology work for me? No, it doesn’t. Positive psychology just doesn’t work for me. And here’s why it doesn’t work for me, and tons of other people. Literature Review - II Positive psychology is being “interested in building the best things in life as in repairing the worst; and as concerned with making the lives of normal people fulfilling as with healing pathology”. Furthermore, another term that goes hand in hand with positive psychology is well being. Well being is, of course, “fourteen distinct and recurring constructs: happiness, vitality, calmness, optimism, involvement, self-awareness, self-acceptance, self-worth, competence, development, purpose, significance, congruence, and connection”. In addition, another term related to positive psychology is gratitude. Benedictine monk, Br. David Steindl-Rast, suggests that “two qualities belong in our basic definition of gratitude. The first is appreciation: You recognize that something is valuable to you, which has nothing to do with its monetary worth. The second quality Br. David mentions is that gratitude is gratis: freely given to you”. In the second part of gratitude, he explains, “we recognize that the sources of this goodness are outside of ourselves…We acknowledge that other people…gave us many gifts, big and small, to help us achieve the goodness in our lives.” According to Dr. Martin Seligman, the father of positive psychology, the “three good things” project helps to boost your overall gratitude. The three good things project, as it were, is the process where you write down three good things that happened to you every day of one week. And according to Dr. Seligman, this process is highly effective. Some research that suggests gratitude does not improve well being is one study found that middle-aged divorced women who kept gratitude journals were no more satisfied with their lives than those who did not. Another study found that children and adolescents who wrote and delivered a thank-you letter to someone who made a difference in their lives may have made the other person happier — but did not improve their own well-being. Findings - III Positive psychology really does not improve a person’s overall gratitude. According to Dr. Martin Seligman, “40% of your gratitude is inherited from your parents”. You can try the “three good things project” however, to raise your overall gratitude. But I have found, in my own research, that it really doesn’t work. In my findings, I discovered that there are lots of small variables out there in the world that are constantly trying to belittle your gratitude. And sadly enough, I am one of many who allows himself to be affected by this. Positive psychology is just yet another one of those things that works for certain people and does not for others. It’s a sad story, for sure, but not much can be done for people that are either high strung or just naturally sad. There is, of course, steps that can be taken to lower the amount of depression. But it would prove to be a real uphill battle to not let yourself be tempted by everyday life into losing your temper, or something of that nature. The “three good things” project, as I have mentioned, can improve your overall gratitude. But, just like every other test out there which is not completely backed by science, that is certainly not a guarantee of the project’s success. Like a lot of variables, it really depends on the person, or the circumstances. Like for example, yours truly. It did work for me in the beginning, but I forgot how slightly overbearing parents can sometimes be. For me, personally, I’ve always had a bit of a temper, and it’s been known to flare from time to time. However, almost everyone can relate to that in one way or another. But, many people will tell you that allowing your temper to flare up like that is bad for your mental health. I happen to agree with that, but I just can’t help myself sometimes. And that’s why positive psychology doesn’t work for me. You see, I left out a lot of the dialogue concerning the drive to school. Why? Oh, no reason, other than the fact that there’s a lot of words in there that would really spice up the dialogue, if you know what I mean. And that’s yet another reason why positive psychology doesn’t work for me. Like many people, I exclaim and curse when things don’t go my way. I dwell on the distant past from time to time. Society today is way too high strung, and I can see that and certainly understand it, but an effective solution has yet to be found for it. Conclusion - IV I think I shall continue with the three good things project. While I have stated previously that it did not work for me, I should have also mentioned that I thought just one week was too short a time to prove whether or not the project was successful. The length of time for the “three good things” project should be something a little more like two or three weeks. Testing “gratitude journals” for only one week, in my personal opinion, anyway, produces, at the very best, inconclusive results. My main takeaway from this project is that there is an ever increasing number of sad and depressed people out there in the world today, and there is an equally ever increasing number of solutions for these depressed people. And, my introduction to this project is a perfect example as to how said outside forces of the world can belittle your personal gratitude.
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I'm one of many people that believe testing the "three good things" project for one week is far too short. It produces, at the best, inconclusive results. The duration of the project should be stretched to something longer, like two or three weeks. In addition, my results for the project were, originally, at least, positive, and proved that positive psychology really does work. However, I learned the hard way that positive psychology doesn't always work. You see, I forgot how parents can sometimes be slightly overbearing, even if they don't mean to be. And so, my results were then proved to be moot, even though I tried to convince my parents to try the project as I had. In addition, 40% of positive psychology, as I've stated before, is inherited from your parents.
Needless to say, I hope to knock this research project out of the park and get a good grade. It's not the most interesting topic to research or talk about, but I intend to do some incredibly great work on it all the same. However, the three good things research project does not work out for everyone. It originally was working out for me, but I forgot about my slightly overbearing parents. Regardless, going forward with this project, I am going to quote the best of the best, in terms of positive psychology, including of course, Dr. Martin Seligman, who does bring up a most interesting point that some 40% of our psychology is inherited from our parents. I hope to meet every requirement for this project, including the 500 word count. However, positive psychology can be a tough subject, so we shall see how this goes.
So, for this week's blog post, we are discussing the interesting topic of positive psychology in class. I have read What is Positive Pyschology & Why Is it Important? (Positive Psychology Program), Greater Good in Action: Science-Based Practices for a Meaningful Life (UC Berkeley's Project Home Page), and also Three Good Things (Greater Good in Action), to help me craft this week's blog post. Without further ado, here are my three moments of gratitude for each day from October 30th to day, November 5th.
Tuesday, October 30th 1) I finally got the brakes on my car fixed; they were squeaking like crazy every time I pressed down lightly on the brakes and it was worrying me. 2) I sat down and watched Michael Crichton's Westworld tonight, as well as some episodes from the original Jonny Quest cartoon; I'm in love with both Hanna Barbera's writing, as well as Yul Brynner's performance as Westworld's Gunslinger. 3) Mom went out to buy some candy tonight for our neighbor's little kids next door; they're between five and seven and have been hyped all week for Halloween. It's kinda sweet, actually. Wednesday, October 31st 1) Because it's Halloween, I watched John Carpenter's original Halloween from 1978 a whole bunch; I love the older, more simplistic Halloween movies that aren't filled with over the top gore. 2) Mom handed out the candy to the neighbor's kids tonight; you could just tell from the big smiles on their faces that we made their night. 3) I finished all my homework as soon as I got home from school so I could watch Halloween a whole bunch; I finally went to bed around 10:30 at night. Thursday, November 1st 1) I went to see Kristina, my new psychologist this afternoon; it felt good getting off my chest the root of my social anxiety problems. 2) My Aunt Eileen called me tonight and told me she got three tickets to the Rockettes show in New York for early December; she took my mom and I there about five years ago and I thought it was the best thing in the world. 3) Dad I tested our new fire pit in the driveway tonight; pretty much all we talked about was the sensational Jonny Quest cartoon from the 1960's, which I heartily enjoy. Friday, November 2nd 1) Dad and I went down to the shore this weekend; it's been too long since we last checked up on the shore house. 2) Dad and I went for a bike ride tonight on the board walk just after sunset; it was a most magical night sky, and there was almost no one around. 3) I went right to sleep tonight, instead of rolling over for a couple minutes; it's probably because I was extremely tired after a long day. Saturday, November 3rd 1) Today, I checked out a book from the Ocean City library on the Shore Fastline; I've always been interested with the trolley service that used to run through the center of town. 2) My Dad and I went to go visit a good friend of my dad's today, Mr. Brooks Sr: not only does he really enjoy our visits since his wife passed away, but he's always eager to show us his extensive and impressive collection of Lionel model trains. 3) My mom experienced another one of those headaches that she's been getting recently while she was home alone; but luckily she took two Advil PM's and felt much better afterwards. Sunday, November 4th 1) I went to visit my good friend Alexander today; poor Alexander had a brain angerism a few years ago, but he always brightens up when I show up at 1:30 in the afternoon, the usual time. 2) My parents and I were watching the NASCAR race tonight; I was very excited to see my favorite racer, Ryan Blaney, win the race. 3) I completed a journal for my Student Success class way ahead of it's due date and brought my grade in the class up to an 85%. Monday, November 5th 1) My car got stuck at the four way stop sign on Gradyville Road this morning on my way to school; luckily I just pressed down on the gas pedal a little harder, and the tires gained back their traction. 2) I finished my online math course at college today; now on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I can come in at 9:20 instead of 8:20 since I'm finished the course ahead of time. 3) I almost fell asleep in my Student Success class this morning; but I managed to keep myself awake because I remembered just how much of a stickler the teacher is. For this week's blog plot, I rewrote the ending to my narrative project about my cousin Kate. I completely redid the ending, and gave it more of a depressing and dramatic spin. Also for this week's blog post, I have recorded myself answering some questions related to my revision process which I shall provide a link to. Also, I have read and understand What is Fan Fiction -- and why is it making people nervous? (Stephen Downes), as well as Rewinding and Rewriting: The Alternate Universes in Our Head (Hidden Brain Podcast), to help me craft this response. https://youtu.be/ZG4ZzmBa_wQ, with that being said, here is the link to my Youtube video, as well as the link to my narrative project web page, so you all can read my very interesting story. For this blog post, I am going to be creating a found poem from the first draft of my narrative project, which is of course all about my cousin Kate. "Kate, I love you like my baby sister", "Matt, I've always loved you like a big brother", Tears begin streaming down Kate's cheeks, "Come here, kid", "I'm going to have an interesting conversation with your track coach", 'What about?", "You being in the next track meet. I'm going to help train you for it, too. You have a gift from God for running, you just don't know it yet". "Float like a Cadillac, sting like a Ford. Go Kate go!", Kate goes screaming by again and again, In the background, the sun is rising, It's the perfect time of day. In no time at all, Kate completes almost six miles, And she never slows down, never falters, Fearlessly plowing right through, Just like a mighty steam engine, After what seems like an eternity, Friday, judgement day, arrives "It's time, Kate" Matt and Kate walk hand in hand down to the track, "Go get 'em, tiger". "Just believe in yourself, kid. Now, get out there" About halfway in, Kate begins to falter, "Run, Kate, run!" Kate jumps into fourth place, then slides into third, Finally, Kate enters second place. "You're almost there, kid! You can do it!" Matt's heart catches in his throat, Kate sprints into first place, And wins the track event. Kate's coach offers her a spot on the team, The crowd begins cheering for her, Kate hugs her older sister and cousins, But she hugs her cousin Matt the longest. Do you think the narrative provides enough descriptive language to create a compelling found poem? Yes, I think the narrative provides more than enough descriptive language to create a compelling found poem, for sure. I think that the story in itself is so compelling that you can feel the emotion and personal connection between the characters in the story. Do you think the descriptive language more so creates a setting or delivers the subtext of a theme? I don't think, I know that the descriptive language helps to deliver the subtext of a theme. That theme being, of course, that I care very deeply about my cousin Kate. "Hey Matt, come on, we're going to go take care of the clothes I'm giving away" Mom said. I was sitting on the L shaped couch in the family room, reading a book called "The Ghost Chronicles", and drafting a book I wanted to call "Ghost Boy". It was a Friday night, and the rain was coming down hard on the windows. The last thing in the world I felt like doing was driving out to a clothes bin in the middle of bum nowhere. "Alright, let's go" I sighed.
I was the one to load all the crap into the back of mom's grey Ford Expedition, because really, did I expect anything different? Anyway, as Mom and I drove along, the topic of conversation gradually turned to my cousin Kate. "I don't know if she told you, but she didn't make the school tennis team" Mom began. "What?! She wasted her whole summer practicing for that! I remember, because every time I asked her to hang out, she politely shot me down because she was practicing tennis! And she didn't make the team?! Are you freaking serious?!" I shouted. "Well, she made the developmental team for tennis" Mom hesitated. "Mom, the developmental team is an insult! It's a punch in the face! Oh hey, you didn't make the team, but we'll let you come hang out with the team" I said, full to the brim with sarcasm. "Well, she likes it. And she's taken up cross country" Mom replied. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Let's back up for a second" I said, cutting in. "Are you telling me that first, her asshole coach for track didn't put her in at any events, so she dropped track? Then, she wasted her entire summer training for tennis, which ended up being a big waste of time? And finally, she takes up cross country? Am I understanding that chain of events correctly?" I asked. "Yes" Mom answered. 'Anyway, listen, I was going to give her these turtle doves of friendship Christmas ornaments made by Hallmark, and I was just wondering if you think that's appropriate" I said. "Well, she's not really into that stuff, you know? She doesn't share those deep feelings of affection for you that you do for her, you know?" Mom asked as we finally arrived at the clothes bin. "Mom, let me remind you of something" I said as we got out of the car and started tossing stuff into the bins. "The very day we buried Poppy, your loving father, I told her right then and there that I love her like a baby sister, the sister that I never freaking had. I spend twenty five dollars of my own, hard earned money the very day after that on a twenty five dollar Amazon gift card, bought the doves, and paid for two free day shipping. I knew from the moment I told Kate that that the doves would be perfect. And they are. And when Kate opens them, it will be perfect. And I'm going to wrap it myself, and buy a good, quality card, and I'll keep one, and I'll give her the other one" I said. It was eight o'clock at night when we got home. Feeling inspired, I placed two quick phone calls. The first of these two phone calls was to Kate's track coach. "Listen, this is Matt McShane, Kate Grauer's older cousin. I don't know what your problem is with her, but you have GOT to be freaking blind to not notice the gift she has for running. Ok? She has a legit gift from God. The Flash doesn't have anything on her, understand?" I asked. '"What's your point?" Coach Thompson asked. "Put her in at your track meet next Friday. You'll see just how powerful she can really be" I demanded, then I hung up. Then, of course, I called Kate. I forgot that Kate had had a track meet earlier in the day, and she was exhausted. "Oh, hi, Matt, what's going on?" she groaned. "You're getting up tomorrow at the crack of dawn, and I'm training you to prepare for the track meet next Friday for school. I had a little chat with your coach, and he's decided to give you a second chance" I told her. "You're kidding, right?" Kate asked. "No, I'm as serious as a shark attack, kid. You have a natural gift from God for running long distances, and it's about time you realized that. And I'm gonna help you" I replied. "Why do you feel that you owe me like this?" Kate asked. "Because that's what cousins are for" I concluded. The funny thing about this story is it started out negative, but I made something positive out of it. Because of this experience that was initially negative, I developed an admiration for my favorite writer of all time, Sir Michael Crichton. I draw a lot of inspiration from Sir Crichton, and he's one of the main reasons that I got into writing in the first place. I have reviewed What You Don't Know (Lulu Wang), to help me construct this story.
It was October 20th of last year. An early Friday evening, my cousin Gabbi's older friend, Kristina was coming to visit Gabbi. But, on her way into the neighborhood, with the radio blaring, she started to play with her hair. Kristina rolled down the driver side window as she drove. But suddenly, a few locks of Kristina's long, lovely hair became trapped in the seatbelt behind her head. She jerked the steering wheel of her black Honda Pilot to the left a little, and shot right off the road. Kristina's car smacked into a telephone pole right beside the road. And, as fate would have it, that specific telephone pole provided power to my family's house and a whole bunch of people in the neighborhood. About a week before, I had bought both of the "Jurassic Park" novels by Michael Crichton. I hadn't gotten around to reading them yet, and now it looked like I would finally have the time. Ten minutes later, I walked out the front of the neighborhood with my dad. We were heading out to see the damage done to the pole. Dad was holding a flashlight, because the sun was just starting to set. "Jesus!" I exclaimed. We were creeping down the right shoulder of the road, and the cars were flying past us at what seemed to be almost fifty miles an hour. "Hey, slow down!" Dad yelled at one of the drivers. Finally, we reached the crash sight. Three police cars were parked behind the Honda Pilot, and there was an old fire truck on scene, putting out the flames. The pole had come down right on top of the car's hood, and crushed it. Both of the front car tires had snapped off the front axle, and the front grille had melted off the car, due to the intense heat. Just then, a PECO truck arrived at the crash site. "Excuse me, sir, but when do you think the power will be back on?" Dad asked one of the men. "We're gonna have to get a new telephone pole in here, because this one is wrecked. The new pole won't be here until Sunday" one of the men answered. Dad and I sighed deeply, and started walking back home. When we got there, Dad notified the Pa State Police of the situation. "Yeah, the cars are just flying past that crash site. Yeah, way toooo fast. Uh, I'd say, like fifty miles an hour" Dad explained. "Well?" Mom asked impatiently when he hung up. "they're going to create a police checkpoint on that road to slow people down" Dad reported. "Good" Mom replied. Then, Dad walked outside, and started up our generator. I started reading the first "Jurassic Park" novel right about then. I thought it was really good, and excellently crafted, though I did grow just a tad bored during the parts of Ian Malcolm's speeches about Chaos Theory. I was pleasantly surprised to read the parts that were cut out of the first movie, like the subplot of dinosaurs escaping the island, and the whole river raft sequence. I couldn't really sleep that night, because I had my window open, and all I heard was the sound of thunderous, humming generators. When I woke up the next morning, and had a small breakfast of snack food, I started reading "The Lost World". I was a little shocked to see how much of the great second novel hadn't been used in the second movie. For example, certain characters from the book didn't exist in the movie, some scenes from the book never happened, etc. I still thought it was a good book, though. It was very fast paced, and very exciting. After I finished the book, and the power came on the next day, I was interested in Michael Crichton, so I googled him on my computer. "Christ almighty, why do the good always die young?" I moaned. Michael Crichton, 1942-2008. I was thinking of a way that I could fondly remember Michael Crichton in my own way, while at the same time being a way that everyone else could remember him by. So, I whipped out my computer and got to work. I went to Google, and created a document with the title "Crichton Everlasting". And of course, I started the story with his wonderful birth into this world. You know something? His legacy lives on to this day. And it's not just through the hardcore fans of "Jurassic Park", either. Every time that I sit down to construct an idea for a novel, I always use the same set up for the different chapters, or "sections", which mirrors the way Crichton constructed both "Jurassic Park" novels. I understand it's easier to show you than to tell you, so let me give you an example. Joining Forces " Order collapses in simultaneous regions. Survival is now unlikely for individuals and groups" - Michael Crichton Pa State Police Detective Indiana Carter pulled into the underground parking garage for his apartment building. One of the things on his mind was those rogue rookie traffic cops that had been all over the news. Indiana knew all four of those guys personally. Their names were Brett Goodman, Frank Sweet, Percy Winston, and Michael Terrence. Michael had died just the other day during a shootout with famous mob boss Donald Corleone. Just as Indiana got out of his car, he noticed three people against the far wall of the parking garage. It was none other than Brett, Frank, and Percy. 'Do you have any idea how hard it is to prosecute a cop?" Brett said. Indiana turned to face them. "Well, actually, it's not so hard nowadays, but I gather that's not why you're here". "That's right" Percy added. "You "heroes" have killed a dozen people this week. So, what are you going to do next week?" Indiana asked. "Kill a dozen more" Brett answered. "Is that what you guys are all about? Being heroes?" Indiana asked. "All our heroes are dead" Frank answered. "We're the first generation that's learned to fight" Brett put in. "We're simply ridding society of killers that would be caught and sentenced anyway if our courts worked properly. We began with the criminals that the people know, so that our actions would be understood. It's not just a question of whether or not to use violence. There simply is no other way, Inspector. You, of all people, should understand that" Brett went on. "Either you're for us or you're against us" Percy said. "I'm afraid you've misjudged me" Indiana told them. Slowly but surely, Brett hung his head a little in disappointment. Then, Brett, Frank and Percy started up their Indian Chief motorcycles all at once. Going single file, they tore out of the underground parking garage. In this blog post, I will compose a scene in the present tense from my current life. However, this scene will paint a daydream I had just yesterday about a potential prequel to Steven Spielberg's Jaws, one that ignores Jaws 3-D and Jaws: The Revenge (AKA Jaws: The Soap Opera), and acts as an alternate third entry to the series. Here is a little sample of my creative genius. I have read and gone over Hills Like White Elephants (Ernest Hemingway), to help teach me how to compose a scene in the present tense with dialogue and symbolism.
I head up the front circular driveway of Amity Island's Psychiatric Hospital, driving my dad's iconic gold and yellow open top Chevy K5 Blazer. I'm intend on seeing a girl named Jackie Peters. Jackie and I are great friends, and have been since my dad, Martin Brody, saved us both from a killer shark. I marvel at the fact that they lock her in a room with four large windows that function as walls. Jackie comes over to the glass and smiles at me as Dr. Tina Wilcox unlocks the door and lets me in. "Oh, Sean, it's so wonderful to see you" Jackie sighs. "The feeling's mutual" I reply. "My God, she hasn't aged a bit" I think to myself. "Tell me about yourself, Sean. What's new with you?" Jackie asks. "Oh, not much. Sheriff Hendricks hired me for the deputy position in town, but you already knew that" I reply. "How about you?" I ask Jackie, who begins to shake her head. "I can still see that-that thing coming for the both of us, pushing all those broken sailboats and catamarans around like a child's toys" Jackie quivers. "Hey, it's alright" I tell her gently, and I reach out and put an arm around her shoulders. She leans into my chest, and begins to cry heavily. "Poor Eddie" she says. "Yeah, speaking of Eddie, how's Tina making out?" I ask. Jackie shrugs. "Ok, I guess. For a girl that literally witnessed a shark brutally consume her boyfriend". "Tell me, how are you, Jackie? I mean, mentally? How are you making out?" I ask her. Jackie looks up at me with those beautiful light blue eyes. "How do you think I am? I have a pathological fear of sharks" she snaps. "It's alright, Jackie, I do too" I say. "What do you mean, you do too?" Jackie demands. "You weren't the only one trapped on all those wrecked boats, remember?" I press. "Yeah, I remember" Jackie sighs. Then, she completely changes the subject of discussion. "Hey, Dr. Wilcox tells me that there's another shark problem in this town. Is that true?" Jackie asks. I shrug. "As of right now, Jackie, as much as I'd like to answer that, I cannot confirm nor deny that rumor" I answer. Jackie sits up a little. "It's true, isn't it?" she asks. "I can't answer that" I reply. "Sure you can. Is there a shark problem or isn't there?" Jackie demands. I shake my head no. "We don't know as of right now. The coroner, and mayor Larry Vaughn Jr, seem to be convinced it's a boat accident. But I don't know what to think right now, Jackie" I say. Jackie sighs. "Oh, is it because of your dad? And how everyone thought he was a raving lunatic the second time around? Listen, Sean, honey, if you ever need a little emotional support, just come by and see me some time. You know I'll make things right for you" Jackie says. "Yeah, I know you will, Jackie. I'll be back when I have some free time. In the meantime, take it easy" I tell her. "You know I will, baby" Jackie says, grinning. The Wonderful Life of Pumpkin
In this blog post, I will compose a scene in the present tense from my present life. However, due to my creative mind, it will ultimately take place in 1977, just like in blog post #2. I'd just like to remind all of you reading this that this story really is from last week. In order to flawlessly create this week's blog post, I have read What is Creative Nonfiction? (Lee Gutkind), Making Scenes in Memoir (Lee Martin), and My Name is Margaret (Maya Angelou). So there I sit, with my dad on the front porch of our shore house, in the early days of 1977, before I purchase my lemon of a Fairlane. Everybody and their mother delights in discussing that new movie, "Smokey and the Bandit", as they walk down the street. But that's not what dear old dad and I talk about that fateful night. As we come to learn, the name of the cat across the street from us is Pumpkin. Pumpkin is a bit more of an outdoor cat. You see, across the street from us, where Pumpkin lives, there was a wide driveway which had at least six houses all using it. I call it a complex, mostly because it really is. Anyway, Pumpkin, this orange and white cat, lives in a light blue house in the back left corner of the driveway, which faces the boardwalk and the ocean. And anyone who rents a house back there that has a dog, ole Pumpkin will wander down the driveway, following them. But he never leaves the safety of the driveway. This night, however, is different. I still don't completely understand why Pumpkin did what he did, but that night he didn't stay in the safety of the driveway. He follows this young lady and her canine all the way down the other side of the street, till they reach the half street known as Saint Alban's. Dad turns his neck to get a good look at the cat, as he vanishes around the corner to the boardwalk, still behind the canine. "Hey Dad, what's he up to?" I say urgently. "I don't know, son" Dad replies, shaking his head. "Well, anyway, did you see that Don Knotts comedy routine where he's playing a baseball announcer, but he keeps screwing up his words?" I ask. Dad shakes his head. "No, I haven't, but tell me about it. Is it good?" Dad asks. "Oh, for sure" I answer, then proceed to insert some of Don's better quotes from the act into our conversation. "Good afternoon, gadies and ladiemen. Uh, ladies and gentlemen. This is your old fiend, uh friend Phil Brusaclane, bringing you a prescription, uh description, of today's pain. Uh, flame! Uh, game! Here comes Dougie Hoser coming out of the cumquat, uh, I mean dugout. Who do we out in the see field? Uh, who we do see in the outfield? Why, none other than that Mighty Macky Middle! Uh, Mighty Mickey Mouse!" I say. Dad rocks back and forth in his chair, he laughs so hard. Just then, we see the young woman come back around at St. Alban's with her canine. But Pumpkin is nowhere in sight. "Dad, where's the cat?" I say urgently. Dad sits up a little, quickly becoming concerned. "I don't know" he answers. Just then, I spot him. Sitting in the mouth of St. Alban's. Right next to the freaking traffic. I cringe as an older Peterbilt gas tanker goes screaming by with the truck horn bellowing out into the night. Before I even realize what's happening, Dad is up and dashing out into the street. I watch fearfully as Dad pets the cat, and starts walking alongside the cat back to the driveway. I continue to watch as Dad walks all the way up the driveway to the light blue house all the way back on the left. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Dad comes back up onto the porch. "Great save" I remark. "Thanks" Dad says as he takes a seat. "Hey Matt, do me a favor, huh? Go and get my binoculars from my closet, please" he goes on. As I go to get him his binoculars, he flips open a newspaper and starts reading about how the serial killer who has been terrorizing Northen California for years now (The Zodiac Killer), has mysteriously vanished. But when I return with the binoculars, I see a sight that nearly stops my heart. Pumpkin is halfway out into the street. There is five or six cars coming from the other direction. This time, it is my turn to be a hero. I run out in front of the first car, carelessly putting aside my own safety. I feel that my feet don't touch anything between the planks on the edge of our deck before I land heavily on the front lawn during take off; and I still don't stop until I reach the driveway on the other side of the street. I look back, and then my heart catches in my throat when I see that the first car was a 1976 Pontiac Lemans police cruiser. The officer flips on the sirens and pulls over to the curb. He is very gentle, though, just happy to see no one is hurt. "Is that cat yours, son?" the officer asks. "No, sir" I say, and I shake my head. "Is he homeless?" the officer goes on. "We don't really know. He's always hanging out in this driveway, though" I answer. The officer nods. "Just make sure he'll be safe for the night before you leave him". "Oh, of course, sir" I reassure the officer. The next morning, Dad plans to go to the beach. But before we leave, he sees a beige and wood grain 1972 Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser backing out of the light blue house. Once again throwing his life into the hands of the car traffic on 17th street, he dashes across the street to ask the young couple driving the wagon if the cat is indeed theirs. Dad finds out that the couple's names are Sandra and William Stienfield, and they live in Ocean City all year round. Pumpkin is indeed theirs, but he is a bit more of an outdoor cat, as we have been seeing all summer long. So, there it is. He really does have a couple of loving owners. We don't have to worry about adopting him after all. But as reassuring as that feels, it also stings like a punch to the face. Long before I'm born, mom and dad adopt a black cat with the name of Canuck that lives with a kind old cat lady, Diane Cherry, down the street from them. Through this ordeal, I was slowly beginning to think we had a Canuck 2.0 on our hands. But sadly, it was not to be. The world didn't want it that way. |
Matt McShane
I will use this work to explore the written word. Archives
December 2018
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