elle and henry

ELLE & HEINRISCH

Psychoanalysis XX, I Think,

While Mounting And Dismounting

One Of The Highest Of

                                   My High Horses

By Izzy Ess Of Horsiness

Elle Mary Albertson was sixteen before she did get intimate with some man other than her father, Alfonse Albertson, a German Jewish man who’d immigrated to New Hampshire and had met and married Germaine Sutherland, of Plymouth, eh, a staunch New Englander who’d held out for a king or prince and settled for a “Krazy Kraut,” from Hamburg, when she was 39 and spinsterish.  She was the one that dubbed him Krazy Kraut because he acted silly at his grand old age of 53 and happened to be a distant relative of Adolph Hitler Schicklgruber.  Alfonse was quite moody and when he was a little high, he made a lot of jokes and told a lot of stories of his distant uncle, Hitler, who had married just before his suicide and was quite celibate with Eva Braun, a lesbian who had been impregnated by the Third Reich Propaganda Minister, Herr Goebbels, unbeknownst to Hitler Schicklgruber, an authentic Austrian true Jew that did deny his Jewishness in order to be murdering the Jews for scapegoats and their assets and their properties.

The pregnancy of Germaine was a surprise to both Alphonse and his Germaine, as she was older than an age when pregnancy was common.  Ellen was adored by both her parents and fondled by them both as she grew up to be a beautiful young woman.  The fondling was so pleasurable to our Elle, that she was quite reluctant to seek sex with any other persons other than her parents who kept her stimulated day and night.  Germaine would hold her in the air while Alfonse put his enlarging manhood on her pretty derriere and pushed a little at a time until he did achieve a penetration which made our little Elle just squeal and laugh and ask for more.  And more she got as our Germaine would lick her private parts while Alfonse got his own end in a little further every time until he could get his manhood deep inside of her.  Our little Elle would squeeze her honeypot and make Alfonso squirt his hot and salty semen deep inside of her.  She loved it and requested more and more each day.

When Elle turned sixteen, her loving dad, Alfonse, was getting to be five and seventy while her mother was a fifty-five year old.  They tired quite easily and Elle was asked to do herself, more often than her parents could do it to her.  Of course, they could not lift her in the air to show her gorgeous derriere.  And Alphonse’s potency was waning.  So, as time went on, Elle had to do the honours and perform fallatio on her own dad and finger her own mom to get their rocks off, when they had the energy.

Reluctantly, and with parental strong encouragement, Elle looked around to find a partner for her aggressive sexuality.  She found no interesting class mates to entice her.  She joined a dancing studio and for a while she thought she could do Spanish things with her own Spanish tutor, but he rejected her, not because she wasn’t smashing, but because the Spaniard didn’t want to lose a paying student.  He did dance with her a sexy tango, and a more than sexy waltz, but it only made things worse for both of them.  They did win several competitions in New York and on TV, but still the Spaniard only kissed her lips and shied away from her quite sexual and private parts.

It was in New York where Elle did finally hook-up with a young man from Amsterdam who was attending the dance competitions and had seen her dance.  This Heinrich Oppenheimer was enthralled by Elle.  He brought a dozen roses to her dressing room to ask for interviewing for his magazine in Amsterdam.  He’d brought his camera to capture her great dance moves for his editor and was surprised that Elle would let him photograph her in the nude.  She flashed her private parts and ample breasts before young Heinrich, before he even had a chance to take a breath.  Her parents in the small dressing room encouraged Elle to do her best to enthrall this handsome man, before he got away.  Alfonse and his Germaine were even willing to get nude and lewd for his great photographs of their daughter, Elle.  Heinrich could not help himself.  He stripped his clothes off while he took the sexy photos and it was obvious that the sexuality was having a profound effect on his own private parts.  Elle’s nude parents helped him do the photographs while holding his erection for display to everyone.  At one point, our Germaine just pushed her derriere against his throbbing manhood and he achieved a bull’s eye, penetrating our Germaine with accuracy and such force that he was “forced” to squirt his hot and salty stuff quite deeply.  She squealed delightfully which turned her husband on who was standing right behind his daughter’s pretty derriere.  Elle pushed backwards and got Alphonse to make his own deposit deep within the honeypot of his own daughter.  The smile was captured on the screen of Heinrich’s camera and Heinrich knew he had a winner to take back to Amsterdam.

Alfonse and his Germaine could take a hint from their own daughter and they quietly got dressed and left to meet Elle later at their hotel near Madison’s Square Gardens.  Left alone, the new friends did the horizontal mambo and the horizontal butterfly, as well as the dance of “Derriere up in the Air.”  They both performed their parts so perfectly that our Heinrich asked his new friend, Elle, if she would spend some time at his hotel room near the Rockefeller Centre.  She smiled and said, “OK, my sexy friend, I’ll come with you if you will come with me as many times as I demand it!”  Heinrich smiled and showed her his much stronger manhood for a final Pas de Deux.

Our Heinrich had to find a Western Union Office where he could submit to Amsterdam his photograph’s and copies of his interviews with Elle.  So he slowly dressed and left our Elle alone with her great memories of a sexy interlude.  It was real hard for her to calm herself.  This had been a first for her with another man, other than her father, Alphonse.  And, she hadn’t yet absorbed her triumph due to dancing talents of which she was so proud.  She drank some of the cooled Champaign her dad had ordered and ate some caviar on biscuits that were there, as well.  Finally, she slowly dressed and felt a little calmer as she left her dressing room to go find Heinrich at his Hotel de Rockefeller.

It was not to be the evening expected by our Elle.  A message for her at the desk said, “Sorry, Elle, I had to fly to Amsterdam immediately.  My father just got ill and is in hospital.  I must go and be with him.  Elle, I love you, and I always will.  Perhaps we will meet later, back in New York or in Amsterdam.  Love, Heinrich.”  Sadly, Elle took the note and turned to leave to find her parents.  They were sure that Elle had made a date for that whole evening and they were asleep.  Elle woke them up and showed them Heinrich’s note.  They were disappointed for her and expressed their sympathy.  It was Elle that suggested that her folks go back to bed and she would join them for a snooze.  They all lay naked all embraced and some feelings were aroused amongst them.  Germaine just licked Elle’s private parts while Alphonse put his throbbing manhood in her derriere.  They slept that way until the morning and when they awoke, they started in again and did complete the sex act with enthusiasm.  The somewhat saddened family had breakfast and they dressed to start off for the airport and a flight to take them home to Plymouth.

In the sky, they comforted each other under a big airline blanket and could calm each other down with some quiet sex.  The airline stewardess tried not to watch, but, ever helpful, she reached under the big blanket and fondled Alphonse, Germaine and Elle quite vigourously and they fondled her to just be grateful for her sympathy.  The handsome pilot was alerted and he joined right in.  They moved into the cockpit so the other pilots could participate.  They had some rather large erections which they placed into both Elle and her own mother and the sexy stewardess was helpful, once again.  The pilots banged the stewardess to give her credit for the kind attention she had given the three passengers and everyone was calmer, afterwards.  The landing was a happy one!

In Plymouth, Elle received a telegraph from Heinrisch saying his dad had died and he must stick around to settle his estate.  He said he would be wealthy and he wondered if our Elle was up to travelling to Amsterdam in about a month.  By that time he could entertain her and they could enjoy the city and the countryside.  He said he liked especially the city of Brussels, where the streets were old and winding and the food in restaurants was quite outstanding.  Mussels Marinara was a favourite.  He said he’d like to show her the quite famous statue of a little boy statue which was set up as a fountain and the chubby boy appeared to piss into the fountain.  Heinrich said that it was called, “The Manikin Pis!”

Ellie really got excited and she made arrangements for the flight to Amsterdam, a month ahead.  She wired her flight itinerary to her Heinrich and was sure that he would meet her at the airport.  Elle was in cloud nine for all that month and couldn’t wait to meet her lover, once again.  Alphonse and his Germaine were quite excited and they felt that there could be marriage in the offing.  Elle declined their offer to accompany her.  As she put it, “Parents, I do love you.  But, I think, I need to do this by myself!”  And, she did!

Elle’s plane took off on Tuesday afternoon and was to land at 8:43 am, Wednesday in the big airport in Amsterdam.  She’d telegraphed her flight schedule to Heinrich, once again on Monday to ensure that he did have her scheduled landing and flight numbers, just in case.  In Amsterdam’s huge airport, she could spot a lengthened Citroën with a well-muscled and uniformed tall chauffeur holding up a sign that said, “FOR ELLE, MY LOVE!” and “WILKOMEN TO MY AMSTERDAM!”  In the back seat was a smiling Heinrich in his business suit.  The chauffer got all of Ellie’s bags and put them in the boot.  Heinrisch had uncorked a flask of vintage Perignon and offered Elle Beluga caviar on gourmet crackers.  Elle pushed it all aside and took off all her clothes.  Our Heinrich smiled and followed suit.  They expressed their love in many ways with not so many words.  The chauffeur took one fleeting glance and smiled and gave his passengers their privacy for all their private parts.  He set the radio to play Beethoven’s ninth to drown out all the squealing and the grunting, eh?

At Heinrich’s massive, castle mansion, Elle and Heinrisch reluctantly got dressed to disembark.  A crowd of nicely uniformed neat members of the house-staff were lined up at the massive castle oaken doors to greet the Master of the Mansion and his honoured guest.  Most of them had seen her stunning photographs and felt that Elle was much more beautiful, so neatly clothed and in reality.  Their grand entrance was heralded by three musicians playing well the Jazz of North America, which they had been practicing all month.  The New Orleans great Dixieland was quite delightful.

The reception and the dinner were quite formal.  Heinrich had arranged for Elle to wear a dark purple evening gown with a magnificent tiara and huge necklace both with sparkling yellow diamonds.  Her décolleté was quite revealing of her lovely breasts.   The governor and mayor were in attendance and greeted Elle like royalty.  All the men wore tails and top hats and had official state ribbons and many medals, crests and royal emblems.  A full orchestra in white tuxedoes played the anthem while all the men stood at attention and all gave salutes to the country flag and to Heinrisch and to Elle as if they were the reigning King and Queen!  During a seven course gourmet meal, the music was all waltzes.  Heinrisch and his Elle were given the whole dance floor for the first of all the waltzes.  Elle was quite amazed that Heinrisch was a graceful dancer.  Many photographs were taken for the press who had been there all evening.

In the master bedroom after every guest had left and said their formal leaves, Elle was glad to strip and get into bed with Heinrisch who was also naked.  They made some passionate love and then they fell asleep, exhausted.  In the morning, Elle confronted her new King and asked, “What gives, my darling?  Are you really King of Brussels or Antwerp or the whole damn country?  And, am I already scheduled to be Queen?”  Heinrisch laughed at this barrage of questions.  “Yes, I am the richest man in Belgium.  My dad was the President of the Diamond Traders of the World and I have taken over his position.  I set the prices of all diamonds, everywhere and have a greater influence than the King of England on the World Economy.  My dad had groomed me to take over if he died.  He was the richest man around and now I AM the richest man alive.  Capeesh?”

Elle was stunned.  She could not believe her ears.  Not only was her lover great in bed and on the dance floor, but he also had more money and power than anyone.  “But you’re so modest and quite unassuming, my dear Heinrisch.  I’m hopelessly in love with you, while you have managed to just hide your secret life from me.  Can I trust you ever again?  What other secrets do you have?”  Heinrisch looked a little stunned at the way his Elle accused him of duplicity.  Finally he said, “OK, my dear, I’ll tell you everything.  Firstly I’ve loved photography much longer than I’ve known you.  Secondly I’d rather photograph your breasts and derriere more than anything I have to do with diamonds.  Thirdly, I’d love to drive fast race cars but my financial staff will not allow me near the wheel of any car, fast or slow.  Thirdly, I love those smelly Cuban cigars but no one on my staff will get me some.  Fourthly, I am a loving son and I adore my mother as I did adore my father who just died.  Sixthly, I adore you more than anyone alive and I would give all my money to the poor, if it did mean you’ll marry me and live with me, forever!”  Elle was touched by his sincerity.  She melted in his arms and kept him tightly held to her nude body ‘til the chimes were rung to indicate that the breakfast was prepared, downstairs in the spacious sun-room, and ready to eat.

Elle and Heinrisch, dressed in their lounging silk pajamas, took the ornate brass-cage elevator, directly to the sun-room.  The chauffeur, Erich Hitler Schicklgruber, surprised them in the sunroom.  He drew his Luger and he shot them in the forehead, killing them instantly.  He shot the remaining bullets into the hearts of the already dead couple.  Then he chewed upon the cyanide capsule in his mouth and died a painful death, smelling of burnt   almonds with a sardonic smile frozen on his face.  The police arrived shortly and discovered Erich had a note pinned to his vest.  It said, “Jews are money hungry and marry whores.  Death to all Jewish Pigs!”  It was officially signed by the Society for the Purity of all Aryans.  The seal showed a Fasces and a Swastika.  In small print, in German script it said, “The Fourth Reich is Born and Growing Stronger Every Day!”

The story of the deaths of Elle and Heinrisch was told around the world.  A famous commentator in the Washington post suggested this was planned by the Jewish community itself and has nothing to do with Germany, or  the rising support seen around the world for Neo-Fascism.  He suggested that there was internal conflict amongst the inordinately wealthy Jewish men that controlled the price of diamonds, in the whole world.  He said that Germans were innocent of the deaths of Jews during the WWII and that the Holocaust was essentially a Jewish confabulation.  He said that the State of Israel was illegally established and that it was a Jewish conspiracy to embarrass the rest of the Arab world and the countries of the United Nations, in general.  He stated that the Jews of Israel were the culprits in the biggest land grab ever and are still responsible for all the ills of the Middle East.  He suggested that the Jewish wealthy diamond traders are the villains and the main financial supporters of Israel with its plan to dominate the Middle East.  No one, in a position to influence world opinion, strongly objected to his view, in any newspaper or newscast.

My dear reader, if you think that this is one my high horses, you are absolutely right.  It’s one of my highest of high horses!  I was seven in 1945, the end of WWII and I was there while both my folks awaited phone calls, letters or even a mere postcard to assure them that their kith and kin who stayed in Europe after 1939, were still alive.  Six million other families around the world were also waiting for a call from Europe and none came.  They were all annihilated, murdered or just disappeared.  The facts are simple.  Six millions of Jews and four millions of other “undesirables” were gone from Germany and other countries in the width of Europe.  The Nazi death camps had done a thorough job in starving, working to death and murdering ten million people, six million of which were Jewish.  Some 50 kith and kin on my mother’s side and another 50 kith and kin on my father’s side had vanished.  This includes my father’s father and his oldest brother and a first cousin, a medical student in Vienna, in 1939, who was conscripted by the Kaiser’s army in Austria and died in battle.

The Pope in Rome knew all about the systematic killing of the Jews and others by the Germans and said nothing.  Everyone in Europe knew the truth, especially the local folks who had death camps in their area.  No one said anything for fear of being taken in themselves and annihilated.  Millions of neighbours, former friends of Jews, and business associates of Jews, saw their friends and neighbours shamed in the streets and saw them have their stores and other assets taken from them and just given to a member of the Nazi party.  They said nothing.  A precious few took their lives in their hands by hiding Jews and others in their homes and basements and secret rooms.  Some like Oskar Schindler saved a lot of Jewish lives at the risk of his own life and livelihood, as graphically related in a Spielberg movie, “Schindler’s list.”

A famous Swede spoke up and saved a lot of Jews; I’m sorry but I can’t remember his name.  Some citizens of certain countries, like Belgium were particular kind to Jews who fled from Germany and kept them, especially the children free from harm.  Some countries, like Switzerland, turned the fleeing Jews away or reported them to Nazis.  Canada and the United States turned away whole boatloads of Jews and others, and didn’t let them disembark and find some safety from the Nazis bent on genocide and ethnic cleansing.

After 1945, I think I have my numbers right, 50,000 Nazis, some famous, like Dr. Mengele, who mutilated many Jews in death camps in the name of science, disappeared with lots of help from locals, into South America.  I believe an equal number similarly disappeared into North America.  Perhaps the most devious of Nazis stole the identity of Jews that were killed in death camps and complete with numbers tattooed on their forearms, immigrated to Jewish areas in New York and elsewhere, as Jews, successfully.  Their papers were authentic copies of the originals, or the originals themselves.

Perhaps the Nazi hunters told these stories to justify their hunting down of guilty Nazis to authenticate their hunting activities.  The fact that some were old and feeble by the time that they were found and objected to being mistreated because they were old and feeble, is perhaps a fable, but it is one that has been verified in many ways since 1945 by the group of justice-seekers led by Wiesenthal.

Why is this relevant in 2013?  It’s obvious that Neo-Nazism and Neo-Fascism is becoming popular and attracting many young people to a life of anti-Semitism, sometimes with murderous consequences.  This seems especially obvious in the Middle East where the propaganda concerning the evil nature of the Jewish Menace is so strong.  It’s also strong in California and in Chicago, where both have established headquarters for Neo-Nazis and formed a growing organization called the American Nazi Party.  Young members of this group participate in desecrating Jewish graveyards and Synagogues.

In Niagara Falls, Ontario, there is regular desecration of the only remaining Synagogue in the Niagara Peninsula of Ontario.  This synagogue is about to sell its property because membership is becoming too low to support its very existence, at this time.  The Jewish populations have been falling to virtually zero in other cities in the Peninsula since 1945 as the Jewish youngsters have moved to more Jewish areas or areas that have better opportunities for work, like parts of Western Canada.  They have seen the disappearance of two Synagogues in each of Port Colborne, Welland, St. Catharines and Niagara Falls, Ontario.  Jewish adults who want or need to continue worshipping in Synagogues have had to move to Hamilton, Toronto or Montreal, or Niagara Falls, NY, NYC, NY, or elsewhere.

Ironically some synagogues in Europe and Asia have recovered and are flourishing.  When the USSR started its decline after the Berlin Wall came down, the atheistic state, which suppressed all religious sects, now openly supports a myriad of Christian, Muslim and Jewish Houses of Worship, that I’ve heard and read about, some within the old Kremlin, itself.  Locally, in Niagara Falls, Ontario, there is a Ukrainian Orthodox church and in Welland, Ontario, there is a Hungarian Orthodox Church and a Polish Orthodox Church.  I believe that there is a Russian Orthodox Church, in Hamilton Ontario.  Toronto has many Orthodox churches and synagogues.  The Orthodox Synagogue in which I did my Bar Mitzvah is now a used car part repository, just as the St. James Roman Catholic church in Hamilton is now a retail Apple outlet.

In Quebec, Quebec, there are many French and English Roman Catholic Churches.  Right downtown, I spotted a Celtic cross and a magnificent old Celtic church.  When I investigated it, it turned out to have been converted to a condominium and I wondered who had the apartment with the old pulpit.  Nearby was the Celtic Priest’s old residence.  It had been converted to a lovely restaurant by glassing in the front stone porch, where I had the best sautéed calf’s liver and onions I had ever eaten.

I digress, one of my oldest histrionic personality characteristics.  Sorry, my dear readers.

So, why is the unchecked rising of the popularity of anti-Semitism, Neo-Fascism and Neo-Nazism scary to a Jewish person like myself who doesn’t actively practice Judaism in a Synagogue?  It’s a fear deep in my gut that the kind of ethnic cleansing and genocide characteristic of the Nazis during WWII can again occur and no one will say anything!  No one will actively do anything to stop it, just like during WWII.  Huge numbers of people, apparently sincerely, deny that genocide and ethnic cleansing ever occurred.

Most German Jews did not emphasis their Judaism.  Most were successfully assimilated over a period of centuries.  They were proud to be Germans, Austrians, Hungarians, Czechs, Poles and Italians.  My dad’s dad was apparently proud to serve as a Sergeant in the Emperor’s army in World War I.  He had many kith and kin in Vienna.  The Viennese dialect of German is ironically very close to Yiddish.  I’ve always assumed that the Jewish language was in fact, Viennese German, with a few Hebrew words, here and there, written “backwards,” in the Hebrew alphabet.  A contemporary of my dad’s dad was Sigmund Freud who lived and worked in Vienna.  Gustav Mahler preceded him by half a century.  Mahler competed with the anti-Semitic Richard Strauss for the leadership of the famous Viennese State Opera House Orchestra.  When Hitler took power, he lauded the music of Richard Strauss and the anti-Semitic Richard Wagner and banned the playing of any Mahler compositions.

Ironically, Mahler means “painter,” in German and Yiddish.  The ransacking of European conquered countries, especially France, was a deliberate and systematic crime by the Nazis, throughout WWII.  Hitler considered himself “ein mahler,” with talent.  Artwork done by Jews, like Marc Chagall, was stolen with the other masterpieces, by the anti-Semitic Nazis, but were apparently, an embarrassment to Hitler and the other prominent Nazis.  Just recently, such a secret cache of Jewish masterworks was discovered accidentally and reported to the media.  They are priceless and are being returned to the rightful owners, or their surviving family members, where possible, by the present German government.  There are surviving paintings done by Hitler, himself.  They are simplistic, realistic works whose values are due to the historical name of Hitler, on them, I believe.  They are certainly not impressionistic, surrealistic or abstract.  Go figure…

There is a prevalent Jewish personality, exemplified well by Golda, the Jewish mother of five daughters in the movie and stage play, “Fiddler on the Roof.”  I believe the original story which became a Jewish stage play, “Die Milchecher,” “the Dairy Farmer,” in English, was written by Shalom Aleichem.  My father told me he saw a production of it, in Yiddish, in Toronto, sometime in the early 1930’s.  My mother, a Ukrainian Jewess, like Golda, was forever warding off “the evil eye,” by saying “ken Eine Hora!” which in Yiddish and Hebrew means, “no evil eye!”  She would then spit through her fingers on the floor three times.  She would do this when she would remark how beautiful a baby was, and invoke the phrase so that her compliment would not bring a curse on the child.  Any expression of joy would get her to do the ritual.

I believe this relates back to Solomon’s admonition of expressions of joy and humour, when the Temple of Solomon was destroyed by the Babylonians.  Up to that time, the Jewish ceremonies of the temples were featured by joyous singing, dancing and playing of instruments, like the tambourines.  It seems to me that it was a feeling of punishment by God for sins committed that allowed the temple to be destroyed when the Pentateuch had promised protection from enemies so long as everyone followed the Ten Commandments and 613 Rules and Regulations of the Pentateuch, given to the Jews by Moses as directed by God, allegorically.  In the story of Exodus, when the Jews were across the Red Sea, “delivered” from the Egyptians, Moses sang the Song of Moses, while Miriam danced and played the tambourines.  There was joy and laughter, celebration and exaltation on being freed from slavery.  Allegorically, God, through Moses, said He chose the Jews to be His people, with the strong admonition that they must live within the Laws set down by God and Moses, atop Mount Sinai.  The land that was promised to the Jews was not to be available to Moses, who led the Jews, and preached the Laws, for forty years in the Sinai Desert.  Moses, after all, had committed the sin of murder, and was not allowed out of the Sinai Desert for his entire lifetime after the Exodus, of 120 healthy years, still having good vision and potency, up until his death.  The subsequent leaders, Joshua, Saul, David and Solomon were to be protected until they reached the Promised Land in Palestine, and to be triumphant, so long as they obeyed the Laws of God.

I apologize, dear readers. I’m sure you learned all this at home or in a religious school as youngsters, just as I did.  Solomon must have seen his defeat and enslavement as a punishment from God for not somehow following the Ten Commandments and the many other Rules and Regulations.  I would guess that Solomon and his priests had no choice but to blame themselves and feel guilty, deeply and perhaps irreparably guilty, forever and ever.  Their admonitions were for all the Jewish followers for the rest of their lives and the rest of their progeny forever until God found favour in the Jews, once again.  Thus, no singing or dancing or celebrating was allowed.  Certainly, there was to be no laughter or joy, leaving only fervent beseeching of the Lord for forgiveness, even as they were being enslaved, assimilated, degraded and dispersed by the Babylonians and Persians and others, including some 5oo years later, by the Romans, at the time of Jesus, the Messiah, an eventuality foretold by the Jewish prophets, and others, including Oriental Kings.

So, my Orthodox Jewish mother was forever feeling guilt and avoiding Joy and warding off the Evil Eye.  It has been said that there was severe guilt felt by the survivors of WWII.  My mother certainly expressed this in many ways.  My mother and I were born with severe moodiness.  Apparently, as I do now, I liked to sing and dance and tell jokes when my mood was up.  Apparently my mother warded off the evil eye on my behalf, frequently.  As I do now, I refused to fast on Yom Kippur because I felt unhealthy doing it.  If I don’t eat regularly, I start hallucinating and having all sorts of pessimistic notions about my longevity.  My first wife was certain I would be struck by lightning by God, himself, which would have saved her from my evilness and obviated her need for a divorce.  I suppose she and most of my family feel that way.  I suppose that I have been ostracized from all of my family, my uncles, aunts, siblings, cousins and my own children for somewhat similar deep feelings that it would be dangerous to be around me when the lightning struck.

I’m pretty sure that a lot of these feelings are engendered by my genetic makeup, which fosters a tendency toward paranoia.  The genetic makeup for serious mood swings, manic-depressive, or the modern term, Bipolar Disorder, is apparently the same for Schizophrenia.  Large parts of my mother’s family as well as kith and kin from Eastern Europe have serious mood swings.  My mother was hospitalized many times for severe, suicidal depression.  She was better as she aged past 70, just as I am less moody at 75 than I ever was when I was younger.  A psychiatrist predicted this for me if I was healthy enough to get to age 70, or more.  He was correct.  He said it was because I would no longer be under pressure to make a living and provide security for my children or my ex-wives.  He was correct!

I’ve never been happier or more stable or more productive with my writing and painting, than I am these days.  If I live another few years, they will truly be my Golden Years.  My optimism is way up and has been so for the past year.  My mood swings are minimal; one could say they were “normal!”  I have some good friends and I like to spend time with them.  My family, apparently is too fixated on the “former me” to notice.  None of my three children want anything to do with me.  I believe I would have a lot to offer them.

Senility has not set in, as yet.  My memory is still pretty good and my calculating ability is still fair.  My recall is getting slower, something I have been learning to live with; as my older friends say, we have more “senior moments.”  I’m relatively independent on my very small government pensions but still can get enough food and adequate shelter to be very comfortable.  Food banks and soup kitchens, here in Welland, are very generous.

In the past ten years or so, my dear friend, a Dutch-origin Mennonite and a Born-Again Christian, was great about allowing me to read the New Testament with him daily, sometimes more than daily.  He helped me see how Love and Forgiveness brings Peace and Happiness.  He was delighted that I recognized how Jesus promoted Love, not fear, guilt or anger as my Jewish upbringing fostered.  I often asked him if I should convert to Christianity.  He was solid about me not giving up my Jewish heritage because, after all, Jesus was Jewish, and Judaism is the history and important basis of Christianity.  After a while we enjoyed comparing and contrasting the Old and the New Testaments, their similarity and important differences, that make such a difference in the way I    now view myself in relationship to everyone else.  If I was a psychiatrist, I would say it was truly a breakthrough!

So, I must get off my high horse regarding my fear that Neo-Fascism will again threaten genocide and ethnic cleansing which means unchecked organized systematic elimination of the Jews of the world, along with the other Ayrian-like undesirables.  I must enjoy some of my home-cooking before I start hallucinating.  For lunch today, I’m cooking, as I’m typing, bass and rice and sweet peppers, fennel, celery, bachchoi, mushrooms, cashews, black pepper, paprika and onions and garlic.  It smells good to me…

THE END

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH!

© izzy sommers, md., Welland, Canada, November 14, 2013