WHO'S GOING TO THERAPY THESE DAYS?
THE COUCH IS WAITING FOR YOU
Well, if you took a look at my appointment book, you’d come to the conclusion that NO ONE is going to therapy these days. I’m often intrigued by the Hollywood scene. It seems that anybody who is anybody in Hollywood and Beverly Hills has a therapist. So the challenge for me is how to get some of those celeb folks to drive a few miles to the east and begin seeing me for their weekly tune up.
There are lots of good reasons to come to Yucaipa to see Vern for therapy, lots of good reasons. I mean think about it. Instead of going to therapy in your own front or back yard where the paparatzi get to take your picture with that look we all get on our face before therapy and then get another shot of you on your way out with that after therapy look which is anything from sad, relief, to I’m going to kill that SOB, you get to walk into a classy office but in a quaint little town after grabbing a cup of coffee from the White Rabbit Coffee Shop across the street, and the only thing that is going to bother you is the gorgeous view of Mount San Gorgonio where you can go skiing after session. Or if you like, you can continue on for another forty five miles to shop in Palm Springs. What a deal!
Now I suppose for me, I would have to learn to put up with actors and actresses sniveling, “Hey, Vern, you know, haven’t been called for an audition for a few months, think you can give me a break on the fee?” See the last Hollywood person I saw, I found out that I am not a provider for the SAG mental health panel. And I would just have to remind them that their SAG insurance doesn’t cover their expenses at the medical marijuana store either, and I don’t hear them complaining about that. Probably doesn’t cover much of all that cosmetic surgery nor the nine martinis at Duke’s in Malibu. Oh I am just jealous. Of course, I will admit it! Well, not really.
As an aside, I was in a movie with Jack Nicholson once, a long time ago, before he was famous, back in 1962. It was a recruiting film for the Priesthood produced by The Hour of St. Frances. I have a copy of it, and I can recognize the back of my head, my favorite shirt, and my jump shot. Jack was as interesting and as unique then as he is now.
Well, the truth of the matter is, I was contacted by Ice Blue Cross just before Christmas and asked to see a celebrity. Have no idea how I got signed up to be on the ICE BLUE CROSS panel. I think they made me an honorary member, and at that, it ends up I am the only preferred provider in the entire Western Hemisphere.
This company provides insurance coverage for most of the folks who live around the arctic circle where it is standard practice to use ice packs for headaches, sore feet, and every thing in between, literally, everything in between. They even use ice for anesthetic during surgeries.
Well, Rudolph decided to get sober last summer and went to a rehab here in Yucaipa, and I was the only therapist willing to work with a reindeer, a sober one at that. Well, once treatment was complete, Rudolph’s nose wasn’t red anymore and Santa was quite distressed, went into a deep depression, and decided not to deliver the gifts.
Well, they were so impressed with my work with Rudolph, they referred Santa to me.
Of course, I did not believe the call. Thought it was a big joke. I mean I just did not make the connection. I worked well with Rudolph, why not Santa?
But lo and behold, there he was with his fat ass sitting on my couch.
I mean there were a slew of issues. His eating disorder for one. Then Mrs. Claus was quite concerned about the games he played with the reindeers (never did get into that), and of course the big item, how to get him motivated and into that sled for his annual run around the world to deliver the gifts. I mean he was just so depressed. He looked just plain pathetic slumped there on my couch. I mean I couldn’t believe it, almost didn’t want him to deliver the toys in that condition.
Well, you know, I could give you a play by play of each session. I don’t take much in the way of notes, but I have a good memory. Or I could just show you clips of the video. Yes, I videoed all three sessions.
You got your gifts, didn’t you? Of course, I was successful. Hey, check out your roof, right next to the chimney. Bet you got a pile of reindeer poop there. Yep, proof positive, I did my job.
So check out the three videos. Laugh and pass them on. I think they are irreverent and funny. If you don’t. What can I tell ya? Call me, make an appointment, even if you don’t live in Hollywood or Beverly Hills. And if you really didn’t laugh, GET A LIFE! And please don’t make an appointment! Not sure if I could help you! Well, on second thought, gotta get my appointment book looking like an appointment book. Call me. I’ll get you squared away or circled away or oblonged, obtused, perhaps, whatever your preference. You will never be the same, I can guarantee you that. You will know you came to therapy. You will know you are not crazy because I am. But you will know you’re a little better off than when you walked into therapy, and if you like, I’ll flash pictures of you coming in the door and leaving.
SANTA GOES TO THERAPY SESSION ONE
SANTA GOES TO THERAPY SESSION TWO
SANTA GOES TO THERAPY SESSION THREE
More by this Author
A fictional account of what may happened in Dallas on November 22, 1963. Sometimes truth and fiction work well together and perhaps give us a better glimpse into reality than the so-called facts.
For the stick in the mud, let’s-get-it-on-and-over-with type, (probably a guy!) spending any amount of time exploring this question could be hard and as boring and perhaps as frustrating as foreplay. So I...