#969 Psychotimes

I worry that we are sliding too far down the slope of psychology and pharmacology in our culture. It’s gotten so even the rock songs are riddled with psycho-references. And everybody with the ability to watch Dr Phil or Oprah thinks they have the answer for your problem.
A world of amateur pseudo-psychiatrists, ready with a diagnosis and a prescription.
The other day I was privileged to be at a gathering honoring an author. I sat at a table which contained a lot of schoolteachers. I should clarify that—modern schoolteachers. I was doing my thing, which in public constitutes being a cut-up, entertaining folks, and making them laugh. I couldn’t help but notice that more than half the table wasn’t laughing at my antics and were instead giving me withering, stony stares.
That usually just makes me work even harder at making them laugh; I figure it’s my divine driven duty to lighten up peoples’ lives. But no, nothing worked. It finally occurred to me why. These were young modern teachers. I was their enemy.
It was my personality type.
I was the class clown. I was the disrupter. The one who destroyed their fragile classroom control. They were that type of teacher who had not yet learned they could be people and still have kids’ respect.
As they glared at me, I couldn’t help but think they were measuring me up for a dose of Ritalin.
Rock songs are getting too psychologically referential too. One singer in a recent song complains her relationship is so “dysfunctional.” Love and science, will the clinical ruin romance?
Another song mentions both “PMS” and “love bi-polar.” Used to be “emotional struggles” and “ups and downs.” Now it’s PMS and Bi-Polar. This is not a good trend. I want a relationship with a person, not a diagnosis.
I want to hear musicians say they got the blues. Can you imagine B.B. King wailing out that he’s suffering from clinical depression? Talk about a tough word to rhyme. You’d want to pull your hair out in frustration.
Excuse me; engage in self-depilation from an acute stress reaction.
Baby.
America, ya gotta love it.