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Jerry Weinstock, M.D., Psychiatry, retired (sometimes), responded to yesterday’s scary stuff – Key West, Florida Keys, America, humanity post at goodmorningkeywest.com:
SLOAN–spice remains legal due to its changing chemistry –but I don’t think
they are that facile or clever—law enforcement slacks off when it comes to spice;
there is no way to know what consists spice at any given time. it is a standoff –until
Cannabis is legal which may well be the road to rationality–legalize.
glad the health department is functioning….good for people and the environment
although it is small potatoes compared to one cruise monster releasing its sludge
into the air and water…these pollution monsters will hurt lots of people in all kinds of ways
including spiritually.—historic tours of American are immunized.. truth-hurts—Jerry
hope Kari is better…!!
I’m fine legalizing marijuana growing, selling and consuming, if it is taxed. Spice is something else entirely. It is not natural. It produces unpredictable and often awful reactions, some of which are, apparently, permanent.
As for Kari, she’s ailing. She said her skin and herself feel like they are always about to pop. She’s bloated, gassy. She is itching and scratching all the time, hard for her to sleep now. She said the very same thing happened the 2 prior times she was in this jail. She’s depressed over that, and over having lost everything she had, after the fellow she was with when she was put into jail died, and his family tossed all of her belongings, they told her, and for her never to come around that home again. Before that, she lost her daughter, when a Plantation Key judge awarded full custody to her ex-husband, who was known to be playing sex with the child in the shower. Kari’s daughter later terminated all contact with Kari and Kari’s parents and grandparents, who loved the child. Kari says, more and more she is wanting to drink, to reduce her stress and pain. The only relief I can see, and told her, lots of luck it happening, is the jail stops feeding her soy meat substitute, and starts feeding her real hamburger. She’s depressed over having no money, and me having no money, and she was unable to get paying work when she was let out of jail before, because she has an aggravated assault with a deadly weapon conviction. The pistol was not loaded. The victim laughed at her, he was so afraid, when he called the cops on her. They both were drunk. He was not paying the rent. He was trying to have sex with her. He had damaged the kitchen refrigerator. He was yelling at her boyfriend, who was yelling back. She told him to leave the premises. He didn’t. She went and got the unloaded pistol. He was so drunk, the sheriff deputies made him sleep in his car that night.
It’s gonna take a miracle.
Sloan: that is so sad —–being locked up for her is just sheer torture.
Kari’s family history is nothing less than dreadful. CAN THEY NOT GIVE HER SOY WITH A DOCTOR’S PRESCRIPTION !!
Drinking for her relieves her suffering—-completely understandable –but the consequences like an avalanche. All she has is you—-an awesome responsibility for you. ——hoping you are up to that–and you probably are I would wager. You have strong feelings for her….. my very best wishes—–to you both———–Jerry
For Kari, drinking will increase her suffering; it will destroy her. She knows this, but a part of her probably could care less, given the stress she feels pretty much all the time. Jerry, Kari has no doctor on the outside, and I wonder if the jail would even listen to a doctor on the outside, who says Kari should be taken off of soy meat substitute and given meat to eat instead. As it now stands, it appears the jail could care less how soy affects Kari, or any other inmate. Or, that the water coming out of the tap in her cell, she told me the day before yesterday, smells like human sewage, which is not the case with the water in the taps in other cells in which she has resided in this jail.
Beyond that, perhaps Kari’s JIP counselor can get Kari into a residential program, if the judge releases her from the jail, such as Samuel’s House or Florida Keys Outreach Coalition’s programs for women needing help, who are willing to be clean and get a paying job. If Kari can get a paying job, so far that has not worked out for her. Alternatively, I come into money, which will provide us a place to live, take the financial pressure off both of us, and then Kari can look for work without the huge pressure of having to find work pronto, or live on the street, or at Samuel’s House or Florida Keys Outreach Coalition, which are stop gap solutions, because it is not likely that Kari would ever get work in Key West, which would pay her enough to, even with my Social Security retirement benefits, allow us to get our own apartment.
The other day, I went by the Housing Authority to see where I stand in line on getting a senior efficiency apartment. When I checked on that about 3 months ago, I was 109. The other day, I was 99. At that rate of movement, I would move down 40 spots a year, so I’m looking at 2 more years. When I told Tom Milone yesterday, he said, surely, as well known as I am in Key West, someone has a small room somewhere, in which I could sleep at night.
I ended my email yesterday with, it’s going to take a miracle. That miracle is going to have to mean a pile money falling on me, there is no other way Kari and I will have a chance.
Two days ago, I received a royalty statement from the publisher of HEAVY WAIT: A Strange Tale, which the angels pushed through me in May and June 2001, with plenty of indications it would be my financial rescue, but it didn’t turn out that way. The royalty statements, there were two, one for the English version, one for the Spanish version, showed zero sales during the past 12 months, thus zero royalties. Yesterday, a woman called me from the publishing firm, wanting to know if I would pay them to promote the book at the upcoming Baltimore book fair? I told her what I had recieved in mail just the day before from her company, and then I asked if she thought I should spend any more money promoting the book? Refreshing, her response was, no, she didn’t think I should spend any more money on the book. I thanked her for her candor.
There is nothing wrong with HEAVY WAIT. There is something wrong, though. Either in the spirit, or in humanity, or both. Or I’m still under karma, which is blocking whatever I do to try to make money off of what I’m good at doing. Nothing I can do about any of that.
However, I reported the other day, a dream of Jesus, as he might have looked in the Gospels, telling me I should go for all the gold I can get. And, my father’s company is Golden Flake (Snack Foods). My take on that dream, when I awoke, was, to go for all the gold I can get requires me to wish for my stepmother to die, which will trigger my second $1,000,000 inheritance form my father, and also my starting to receive a child’s pro rata share of the income from a trust my father set up in the late 1970s, which income he received until he died in August 2005, and then his widow received it.
I took that dream to mean Jesus sanctioned my stepmother’s physical death; she claims to be his flock, so he has that authority, I suppose.
A second dream the same night left me feeling that I read the first dream correctly. In that dream, a woman told me the Alabama Supreme Court had made its final decision, which, her tone was, adverse to me, and I said, was she sure?, and I handed her something written, and it indicated she was mistaken, and was in my favor.
I’ve been sitting on sharing all of that with my readers, but I did tell Kari about the dreams, and my take on them, when I visited her in the jail shortly after having the dreams. I said I don’t feel I should do anything in Birmingham, it’s out of my hands. She agreed. Either my stepmother will die, and provide the rescue for Kari and me, and for a couple of other people, or she won’t die. As I explained it to Tom Milone this morning, if she dies, it will look like a medical death, but the cause will not be medical.
Meanwhile, it’s chop wood, carry water.
Two nights ago at KOTS, I sat down in the yard to watch the movie playing on the TV. Right off, a Spanish man jumped up out of his chair mad as hell at the Anglo man sitting right next to him and right in front of me. The Spanish man told the Anglo man never to touch him again, and then the Spanish man went and found Mike Tolbert, who manages KOTS, and gave Mike an earful. Mike came over and sat down beside the Anglo man and told him, in 5 minutes, he had set 3 people off, what was going on? What was he drinking? Mike checked the cups in which the man turned out to have soft drinks. The man said nothing was going on. Clearly, the man was lying. Mike told him, if he did it again, he was out of KOTS for the night. The man got up and walked to another part of the yard. I told Mike the man had done something to the Spanish man, he had touched him; the Spanish man had leapt straight up out of his chair, furious. Mike said he agreed.
Yesterday, this fellow showed up at the soup kitchen, and sat down right next to me, and started slamming Mike and KOTS, and telling a tall tale, which had zero to do with what had gone down the night before. I said to the other men at the table, this fellow isn’t telling it like it happened; I repeated what I had seen and heard the night before, and that the Spanish fellow thought you were queer, going after him. The fellow got really mad at me, gave me a lot of lip. One of the men at the table said the fellow had gotten kicked out of KOTS the night before. The fellow got up and left the table, in a huff; then he came back and put his face right next to mine and said, if I didn’t get it straight, he was going to wring my neck off. I said, okay, I’ll just call 911, and I pulled out my cell phone. One fellow at the table shook his head, no, as the asshole moved away from me.
The other men at the table, until all of that not seeming to want to engage in conversation with me, now were talking to me, friendly. When one man, maybe 30 years old, said he was into working out, staying in shape, I said that used to be really important to me. I ran 5-6 miles a day, I played raquetball and 4-wall handball, I paddled whitewater, I trained in karate and did tai chi and yoga, and I played rugby. But I’m 73, now, an old fat fart. One fellow said he’d like to hear more about rugby. I said it was rough. American football descended from it. But no pads in rugby. And the players play both ways, like it used to be in American football, no substitutions like you see in American football today, unless a player was injured and could not continue playing.
Later, pedaling my bicycle up to KOTS, I called Mike Tolbert and told him what went down at the soup kitchen. He said he would deal with that later, he was trespassing a client right then and there, a permanent ban from KOTS, and was waiting on KWPD to get there to make it happen. I got to KOTS just after it happened, saw the kicked out client walking out on the road into there. He had shown a really bad attitude, and is big, and is dangerous. After I checked in, Mike said the man had threatened him in front of the cops. Now if the man came after him, the cops would know what Mike did to the man was justified. Mike is not someone I’d care to pick a fight with.
I was assigned a dorm, and then it occurred to me to ask Mike if the fellow from the night before, who had threatened me at the soup kitchen yesterday afternoon, was assigned into the same dorm? Seemed so. I said, put me in a different dorm. That guy might come after me tonight, when I’m asleep. Mike said he would handle it after he got done with something else. Later, Mike told me he had moved the guy to outside, to sleep, where the monitors could keep an eye on him. Mike said the fellow is gay, he likes to touch people. I said, the fellow is more than gay, he is dangerous, and hear what I’m going to say, which you might or might not believe. It was for that man’s own safety, not mine, that he and I should not sleep in the same dorm. If he came after me, he might end up dead. Mike said, well, he had already thought somebody bigger than the man might kill him, if he kept touching men at KOTS, and that’s why he move him outside, to sleep.
I don’t know what got into me, to tell Mike that fellow might end up dead if he messed with me in my sleep. I do know some moves that could cause that result, if I was able to execute them. It’s been a long time since I practiced them. Not turn the other cheek stuff.
When I visited Kari in the jail yesterday, a woman came into the waiting room asking to see David Bloom, aka Frisbee Dave. I told her my history with Dave, and my take on what is now wrong with him: spice, on top of him being bipolar. She knew about all of that, and she knew Dave’s friends up north, with whom he had grown up. I said, them coming down here and getting Dave and taking him back to that high school reunion unhinged him, and he went down fast after coming back to Key West – unintended consequences; I had told them it might not go they way they were hoping.
The woman said she keeps trying to talk sense into Dave. I said there is no talking sense into Dave. He’s where he needs to be, in jail. He can’t get spice in there. He is not a threat to society in there. Out on the street, he could hurt someone, or worse. And he could get hurt, or killed, by someone bigger and meaner than he is. She said she had told his friends up north not to bail him out of jail this time, and they had not bailed him out. I said that was good advice she gave them.
Maybe it’s not chop wood, carry water. Maybe it’s rugby.
A national liberation front rugby match showed up on Facebook yesterday:
Then was this rugby match:
“Get out of my country. It’s not about you.”
Wake up. This is a country of immigrants.
I would love to debate Donald Trump and Bernie Sanders on national TV. As things now stand, I’m voting for these two vagrants to live in the White House the next time there is a vacancy there: