Just Ask Alice

Michelle, Helping the Goal Out

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/





Approximately eight years ago, I had to re-up my goals. I have this prayer/goal journal and I realized that most of what I had in it was either outdated and my orientation shifted or I had accomplished what I set out to do. I have to admit that, as of now, I have not kept up with the journal. But I do have goals set in my head. The latest accomplishment has been to bank on this goofy housing market.


(By the way, we keep hearing about how bad things are today in the economy. One thing I don't understand is that things are soooo bad; but why are these abandoned houses off the market with a good buyer in such a short period of time if things are so awful? Corrections are being made by the people and this ain't being covered by your mass media.)

When I revamped my goal settings, I had to decide on personal items/things to procure/conquer and added a twist which I hadn't given much thought before. The twist was simple: Meet people. Meeting people can be intimidating for some. We live in a society today where many of us don't even know our neighbors. Tell you what, your representatives, athletes, movie stars, rockstars are all like you and me.

One guy I had on my list was Alice Cooper. I found out all this stuff about Alice when I moved to the valley. He is extremely charitable, likeable and full of energy. So I began my quest by frequenting his restaurant whenever I got the chance - lunches, dinners, before games. I asked about when he might show and came this close (fingers length) to calling him on his radio show. Just before I got to this breaking point, my girlfriend at the time, Michelle, told me about a book signing with Alice. I was there. I was the only guy dressed up for the occasion. Michelle joked about this and told about my "stalking" him and Alice laughed. He also let me know where his favorite seat is at Cooperstown. Cool.











The meeting people list is so easy. It takes a lot of watching stuff and taking things in to accomplish the goal. Just being observant. I already do this with my work so have some experience but it is so easy to just put your head under a rock as well. Experience can be generated by doing something as simple as going to the mall or sitting on a patio with expectancy in watching things happen. This doesn't cost much, is relaxing and therapeutic even. It brings to mind the Psalm or Proverb, "Be still and know that I am God". Not really sure when much of us are all that still anymore. Always something going on. Maybe missing something important, you know.

The first guy I met who I knew was different and I recorded his name in my journal was Mr. Potter. I was in Vegas at House of Blues in a forty minute line and had to pee. I got this idea and went up to the doorman, shook his hand and asked him, one muscle guy to another, if he would let me in when I got back from the restroom. He said we'll see.


I got back from depositing the golden stream and my friend, doorman Joe, politely refused my premature entrance. It was worth a shot.

I waited in line for about five minutes and saw this guy go up to the doorman. I kind of thought to myself that, "hey, he's doing the same thing I did". So I went to the front and the newbie is shelling out a few hundreds from a wad to the doorman. He was asking, "how much is it going to take?". I looked at Potter, then the doorman and back at Potter. "I'm with him." Mr. Potter looked at me and said he didn't know me. I put out my hand, introduced myself, we shook and I got his name. Now we know each other. About five hundreds later we were escorted past the rose colored velvet rope and down the stairs. If I ever work a door again, I'm doing it in Vegas. Way way way great!


My new friend, it turned out was extremely well known. Before I knew it, we had the red carpet treatment, women surrounding us and an open bar. When Potter went off somewhere in the club, I got to talk to his driver, Frank. Turned out that Mr. Potter was a billionaire and was in Vegas on a whim and a weekend just for kicks and to check on some property. Frank, the driver, was a pretty cool cat and went everywhere with Mr. Potter.


Near the end of our night together, I got to talk to Mr. Potter, one on one. I asked him how to do what he has done. He said he was often in the right place at the right time. That he had the good fortune of being lucky. He asked me some questions: city where I live, do I like my profession, and do I believe in debt making money. Well, he told me to get out of Tulsa should be one of my priorities. And then to learn managing of people and to not let debt scare me from making potential return of investment decisions. To act quickly and boldly. We decided to call it a night, I got Mr. Potter's number and made a new friend.

Getting out of Tulsa needed to be my greatest priority because the city/town lacks a population where chances are slim as far as overall opportunity to be in the right place at the right time to get to know the right people where good luck might rain. I took his advice and made sure to not forget. It took me about seven years to finally act on his advice. After I had built my house in Oklahoma, it was extremely difficult to consider leaving when my practice was in motion and there was nowhere else to go excepting starting again from scratch. But I finally did it. There are some regrets and I live with them. There are more plusses than minuses. Name that book: "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" by Susan Jeffers.

That Vegas weekend I went with friends Fred and Kim. Fred's in restaurant management and Kim has real estate license but waits tables still. I kind of (well, not kind of) ditched them waiting in the forty minute line in order to have my all night meeting with Mr. Potter. I got to see Fred and Kim dance on the floor while I received VIP treatment. I didn't feel bad about ditching them because they just weren't watching.


The next night I ended up at Hard Rock and then at Caesar's. HR was okay and I saw some people I knew were celebs. I only knew this due to witnessing a couple posses. At Caesar's it was way cool. I saw a bunch of guys who looked fun and began chatting with them. It turned out that they were L.A. Dodgers out goofing around. I'm pretty sure it was during a short break in the season. Didn't know, didn't ask. The Dodgers are fun guys to hang out with. Funny thing I noticed in being around them was that they all had the expensive watch and nice/casual clothes but they were wary of sticking more than a nickel or quarter in a slot. When the spare change floating around in the pockets was gone, they were mostly about just hanging tight around the stage and that was actually pretty good to see. Just a bunch of guys like you and me cautious about their hard-earnings.



Wish I were more of a picture-taker sometimes. So it goes.

Patients and Patience and Anitas of the World

http://www.fnchiropractic.com


This is Tritia from my previous posting. She's actually blonde, but experimented for one time in her life. Tritia is blonde again. She's hot.


I have only two shirts with stuff on them. One was a gift and says San Diego with a little surf guy. The other one has my name and info on it. Quite a while ago I decided that no one should go around with all this crap written all over their stuff. My thinking is that these companies who make stuff with all their names and emblems all over your shirt should be paying you to wear their stuff. Or wild discounts should be made on such adornments. I do have a few shirts with small emblems, but that is my limit. I only have these because they fit well otherwise I would prefer no emblem but, rather, my monogram of choice. Preferably my initials. Its my shirt, my initials.



As of now I have treated thousands of people with chiropractic and delivered that many adjusments. There are some chiros out there who take offense when others may call our work "cracking". Often these types want to explain subluxation and specific chiropractic adjustment or possibly CMT. I really don't mind the term cracking and prefer to talk about joint out of place and nervous system interference and what this does to a person's being. It just seems nice and simple to me and more similar to something people understand better. Its easier to relate something as complex as the nervous system to the simplicity of a pinched hose and no water.

Out of all the people I've treated I often try to think of someone I just didn't like. Can't think of one. I care about my people. They are living, breathing, have ups and downs, crawl in and walk out. People like you. People like me. And everyone is truly unique. I strive to make sure that I keep my patients. This doesn't always happen. It can be very difficult to adequately convey to someone the importance in understanding that a weak link will always be a weak link and must be maintained in order to prevent further deterioration. Due to our symptom and pain related culture, usually many wait until the deterioration is too great. Then its patch patch patch. That job is tougher on you and its tougher on me. And it costs more. I offer my patients true value, caring hands and heart and fun atmosphere and relationship. In my opinion these cannot be beat in healthcare as we know it today.

Okay.
She drove up one day and parked outside my office. The car was an old, beat up, light blue Ford Tempo which looked like something might fall off the thing at any moment it was driven on the Tulsa streets. She stepped out of the vehicle and walked into my office. Anita. The sign above the office said "Back Out, Pop In" and had this pain girl/spine picture which looked eerily like my ex-wife. Anita liked the sign, I guess. She wore old ratty dress heels, a vintage seventies dress and smelled like she may actually hold a job at Goodwill as well as shop there. I think Kristen was the assistant then.

Anita 'splained that she drove over from another chiro office which refused her service on some kind of chump-like explanation like they were not taking new patients. I have yet to find an office which will not accept new patients and most are able to see them on the same day. I interviewed Anita. She was legitimately in need. She had Medicare. I don't do government problems like Medicare. Anita had no money. Her son was schizophrenic and autistic.

Anita's full time jobs were taking care of her mother, controlling her son and failing attempts at higher education. She was let go of her last job for some reason or another. I decided to treat the lady. Then I also knew that she required regular ongoing treatment after checking her out. Her body was just kind of all over. I also figured I may be her last ditch since she was already turned away from one place that I knew of. I began treatment after exam/x-ray: roller, stim, adjustment. Most people over 45 yoa you just have to x-ray or else you're pretty much possibly working blind without knowing extent of degeneration and previous elements left from past injury. No one discloses full history and no one remembers much of their physical history. Many do not even know that what they have done to themselves actually caused damage. I don't remember what I ate for breakfast.

To begin with Anita took off her heels. Kind of stinky. Well, not kind of. My work is done in open bay. Take your zapatos off, thats okay, I understand. When it got to be my turn and her arms came down there was hair. And more odiferous delight. The hair was interesting. I couldn't quite tell if she just lapsed at a shave or if she wasn't too hairy. I couldn't get a clear picture from the ankle hairs since that was an obvious lapsed shave. Adjustment was performed.

When I was treating Anita that first time, I was thinking that there had to be some way I could charge this person. I have a belief in no charity and people then place value in a job well done. No fare, I've found, yields minimum commitment and vague appreciation. There are exceptions, but few. One time in a spelling bee my brother, Tommy, misssssspelled the "C" word. Often I joke with patients that if they don't like co-pay, then I like chocolate chip cookies. Well, I didn't really want cookies from Anita. It may sound mean, but I sort of envisioned her as the possible cat-lady you read about in the paper who is ordered by city sanitation to give up her cats and clean the house or be condemned. I couldn't risk the cookie joke for fear that Anita would take it as literal statement and waste her time making me up a fresh batch slaving over something which would go uneaten.

After treatment I got an idear. Dem idears sometimes I has ta write 'em down quick-like ors else I might never ever 'member dem dere thangs. Us'ns 'n' we'ns wouldn't like dat.
My idea went like this. Give Anita homework. So I did. The homework went like this: You do your homework and come back in one week with it complete and we're friends. You don't do the homework then I yell at you and we're not friends until the next week when you complete the new homework. Anita's standing appointment was Wednesdays at 3pm. She kept her appointments and, the few she missed, I refused explanation. She did her homework.

Her chores were something of the following nature: I wrote down the chores on a blank sheet of paper and made a copy for myself which went into her file. The agreement was that she would complete the sheet in writing on what she did and return it on next visit with her signature. I would put the completed sheet in her file and toss my copy. The items needed to be done were constructed by myself. The ideas surrounded building up Anita and, hopefully, lift her shattered self-esteem. On return visits, Anita's spirits were generally rising and there became less poor me stuff. It was really pretty neat.

My demands included three to five items per assignment. An example of duties always included reading two Bible passages which I would pick out. Sometimes I did that open the book and wherever the finger points....and other times I was more specific on what I wanted her to read. I also always included a walk-a-day at least one time around the block. I would sometimes add that she had to smile during her entire exercise time. The other parts of assignment were mish-mash. Like I discovered that Anita enjoyed comedies and so I put in there to watch a comedy at least one time during the week. I would have her write down 25 times on a piece of paper something like "I am a great person and am made in righteousness" or "I have a great life and there is no one like me". Stuff like that. When I found out something new about Anita, it would be applied to her homework. My Anita list grew.

It was kind of funny because I began to look forward to her visits. The homework thing was fun. And I'm a smell/nose/olfactory conscious person. Of course, the second that she left my office I sprayed the place down and the assistant wiped down the tables. Oust is pretty cheap and a good product. I have fun spraying it, too. I often even spray down people's feet if it really is that bad. The last real bad one was this guy who I don't think ever washed his feet and he had an ankle problem I was treating. Spray 'em down. Guy got the name of smelly foot. My previous assistants thought this was kind of hysterical as they never saw their doctors being so forward in spraying down someone. Snickering assistants are fun. A lot of people know if their feet smell; its no mystery.

Okay. Anyway. Anita was a keeper. At the end of her first year, she made somewhere in the area of 20 visits. I had this file on her which was pushing go-for-broke in its girth weighted down by all this completed homework. I gave this some thought and, oh! 'Nother idear. Geez, where do these thar thangs come from? I hole-punched her year's work and placed it in date order in a binder. Labeled it "Anita's Chiropractic Homework". Gave it to her as a christmas present. I think she was pretty proud of that. Shoot, it may have been her only christmas gift that year. I don't really know and didn't ask.

The story is not over. My creative (genius) went on and Anita continued through two assistant changes. One of them, Jackie, worked for a bit and, on about the second Anita visit under Jackie's command, I was asked about the story on this one. Jackie got to know me through her care and a car crash. She came back to me when some hard times, a stalker husband, and divorce with three kids was occurring. I told Jackie that Anita probably had nowhere else to go and was just a broken spirit which required lifting. Anita began to get more attention in the office. And Jackie disappeared after a little bit. Turned out that the husband thing turned pretty bad and Jackie had to hide out and protect her kids. Pretty cool kids, by the way.

I got another assistant. Ads can be so expensive. Every once in a while one of Jackie's kids would come in for care and it was usually her son. He was a pretty tough and top-rated football player. Fast, too. Chiropractic improved his game and he would usually come in when I would have some of the Arena players in getting treated which he thought was pretty neat. I would get a report on the family and move on. Finally a long amount of time passed and Jackie came into the office to say hi. It may have been a year or so. She was always a kind of bright light. Always smiley and these beautiful big brown eyes. We got to sit down and talk and she was dating some guy and all this and that. Cool. And, you know what? Anita rolls into the parking area with her blue bomber Ford Tempo clattering away and she came lumbering through my office door. Jackie lights up and looks at me all amazed and stuff and she just had a good laugh. Time to work. Jackie knew the process well. Get the spray can handy, roller table, stim, adjust, Anita out the door, spray, spray, spray, clean the tables.

Q45 Love Affair

http://www.fnchiropractic.com/





http://www.bionicdoc.com/ http://www.85224chiro.com/








Distinctly I remember a few things my grandparents directly taught me. My grandma taught me about stocks and benefits of dividends. She also told me to learn Spanish and she taught me the Lord's Prayer in Finnish. She is fluent in Finn and Spanish. My grandpa taught me poker. The one other thing was a statement on dating from my grandpa. He said, "Scott, if she sleeps with you on the first date, dump her". My grandma is alive, grandpa is dead. I used to just really enjoy hanging around them. They were simple and easy and watching them work was inspiring.

Just figured out I can drop pictures on this thing.

A few years ago I purchased a Q45 on ebay. It was one of the best cars I've owned. The car started off in New Jersey as a one owner and I suspect it was a bargain because it was probably a headache. I don't really know as it was never a bad car for me. The Q was always good to me. My cousin, Tritia, now has it and I gave it to her in April of last year. She's angry at me over the car. I've also been told that my favorite uncle Mike is also angry over it, but this was said by my mom who often seems to be losing the cheese off her cracker. So, not sure about his anger as I would think he's sensible enough to know that I thought I was gifting my cousin with what I thought was a totally great vehicle although it was definitely used and a '91 car.

So here's the deal with this Infiniti. I flew out of Tulsa at 9am on a Saturdayand made it to Laguardia by 6pm EST. Long travel day. The planes were way cool. I love those that have around eleven seats across and you can't tell the beginning or end in the length from the inside. Cab drive to Bayonne was twelve miles and took almost an hour and cost a little less than a Ben Franklin. Just stepping into the cab at the airport started the tab at $50.

Dropped at the address of the Q45, I was tired from all day travel, but very excited.

The son of the owner took my cash after showing me the car and this thing was cool and looked as fast as I expected. I asked the guy if there was anything I should know about the vehicle since I intended on driving it about 1200 or so miles to Tulsa. He said it was all good and he then said that we needed to go out and make a receipt copy. I thought this a bit strange since I witnessed the all-in-one on his desktop outside the kitchen. Tell you what, this guy drove like a maniac in my car. He tore up all sorts of streets all over Bayonne and kept making excuses about different places he thought had copiers but ended up not. Finally after about one half hour and the clock nearing 9pm, he called it quits while jamming at 70 down a 25 street and decided he could go with a written copy and signature. I dropped him off at his house and proceeded to the Penn Turnpike/Thruway.

When I made this "miraculous" purchase I decided it was from God. Goofy maybe, but that's how it is. So I started the journey first by praying over my great buy and screaming fast green battleship. I prayed for safe journey and that this car may last a lifetime if I so needed. The trip from Jersey to Tulsa is beautiful. You pass by all these amazing things like the RCA dome, St. Louis arch, the green of Pennsylvania, all sorts of things. The drive is also long especially when you don't speed excepting the number of occasions when you just sort of "test" the pickup. You know, just to make sure that the wind doesn't hold you back and stuff when you know you need that extra speed in a pinch. Yeah, I wouldn't be surprised if I got up to only about 120 mph a coupla times. It was for safety reasons that I averaged 95 most of the journey. Naturally.

I made it home within 24 (or less) hours. About every hour or so I made it to the garage to make sure the Q was still there. Opening and closing the garage door so I could see it in the light and check out how magnificent it looked against the outside and open background. Wow! A car finally bought outright with no payments and it had everything - right down to the amplified Bose which massaged your back when you turn it up and powered that bass. So cool. Amazing.

I made it to work the next Monday and the car started to cry. At lunch I took the car home to check out where the tears were coming from and then it really started to weep. Anti-freeze saturated the drive and the belt to waterpump was off. I put the thing back on and it just wouldn't stick. Paul came over and we were both perplexed - its just a belt, what the heck. We were able to drive the short 2 or 3 miles to Infiniti dealer and Paul struck a deal with the service guys he was familiar with.

It turned out that the water pump recently installed was an inch shorter than the pump which belongs on the vehicle. I have no idea how the belt ever stayed on as long as it did. I know I prayed over a safe journey and know my prayer was answered. I also figured out why that guy drove like a Nascar driver all over Bayonne, New Jersey. He was testing what he knew was wrong after learning of my loooong trip. Crazier things.

Got the pump fixed and everything was good as new. I continued to make sure and pray over my Q45. I (no kidding) probably prayed over it every time I drove and also thanked God for such a gift. I was influenced in prayer over such objects when I once heard Bob Yandian talk about how he believes in God for prime parking spots, longer wearing tires and better gas mileage.

About one week went by and I left office around dusk (This is November '05, by the way) and got in the beautiful car. Now, I have to tell you this - generally I'm not that stupid, sometimes goofy-stupid and calculated stupid, but not common sense stupid that often. So, yeah, I got in the car and the emergency brake light was on. I must have kicked it or something when I last got out of the seat. I pulled on a few levers and stuff and, after about seven pulls, finally turned off the blaring red light. My routine was to hop on the freeway and skate home the next few miles to 91st from 61st. I entered freeway and hit 70mph in flat time, got a lane over and....bam! Friggin' hood went straight up into the front shield. Geez, I couldn't believe it! I thought this only happened in comedy movies. I was close to laughing, but putting my head out the side window made my teeth chatter and I was in rush hour traffic and I had to act quickly. People slowed down, I pulled over and bent the hood down which put a couple little creases perpendicular to the hood and the latch did seem to still work and the aft edges of the thing were a little bent. Windshield was fine.

Umm...I decided to take sidestreets home and did around 25mph. All these things went through my head. Faulty latch? Any recalls? Bad hood? Driver error? I stuck on driver error. I went through all my actions and also thought about the pump which was just worked over. Between 81st and 91st and Mingo all of a sudden I remembered the levers I pulled in attempt to release E-brake. Ah, I suddenly hit 60 and made it home a minute later and looked for the latch release. Shoot, I must have pulled that thing about six times before I finally got what I was looking for. I figured I'm glad the Q is paid for and had a new adventure on my done list. I really don't advise anyone to intentionally do the hood flip adventure. Its kind of dangerous. But its all good.

When I gave away this car, it was a very sad trip to Vegas for me. Our farewell trip. I did it because I knew Tritia wanted something more dependable, the a/c was not all that great and I didn't want to deal with it and I was juggling three autos. Out of the three cars two had great a/c (in Arizona) and the J was another fabulous deal and the convertible is totally fun. I disclosed to Tritia all the work I had done and, to me, the car was basically new and all set up to run another 100,000 miles or more given the Infiniti reputation. The only thing I forgot to mention was my praying over the car and my constant petting of the vehicle and telling it how nice it is to me and how privileged I am to have been picked to be its owner. I attempted calls and emails to check up on my baby and friend and there was no response. From what I understand, Tritia had problem after problem from the start of her ownership. I feel badly about this but it was pretty much out of my hands. This made me a bit concerned also since my favorite, auntie Pam, said something to the effect that she would kill me if the car didn't work out. At least that's how I took her statement. And I wouldn't ever want to disappoint my auntie Pam.

Before the Q45's great send-off, I changed the oil, added its favorite oil additive (greased lightning), rotated the tires, checked all fluid levels, gave a thorough exterior washing and polish and painstakingly burned many of my favorite cd's for Tritia to listen to on her trip home from Vegas. I didn't drive it on the stay in LV and Elsie and I lost the car in the hotel garage. I looked for about twenty minutes and ended up at a blackjack table. Elsie kept looking and found the vehicle. She was pretty ticked to find me at the tables while she searched for almost two hours. I think she was more angry about my high-fiving the cute Thai lady next to me and I had to hear her say, "We go now". What can I say, I was winning and its Elsie's J-O-B to take care of me. We left and met up down the street with Tritia and her boyfriend and it was farewell. I just about cried watching Tritia's car drive off - without me.