Ask Dr. Ding

The Irreverent Heartfelt Thanksgiving Credo Of Dr. Ding

Fret not. It will all work out. Shit invariably does.

Be present enough to listen with your whole heart. Embrace the stranger at the table.

And remember that in order to benefit, there must be room to receive.

The meal will eventually be ready, bellies will be filled, and thankfulness abounded.

There will of course be airport delays, ill-mannered guests, and bad weather.

Fret not. It will all work out. Shit invariably does.

Live while you’re still alive enough to do it.

And remember that if life were perfect, it would be awfully damn boring.

There will be joy. And laughter. And hope.

There will be regret. And irritation. And sorrow.

Fret not. It will all work out. Shit invariably does.

God’s Grandeur

Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; Bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Peeps:

Gerard Manley Hopkins was a very painfully closeted Jesuit priest who lived during the Victorian era and wasn’t famous in his lifetime. Although Dr. Ding is a decidedly retired Catholic, this poem elucidates the ineluctably beautiful relationship between nature and the Divine presence like few others I’ve read. Drink it in; it’s best read aloud and takes 4 or 5 read-throughs before the multiple layers of meaning emerge clearly, which is half the fun.

Toodles!

Dear Dr. Ding:

I had gotten out of the habbit of reading your blog. This last month I have
rediscovered the joy of Dr. Ding. Keep it coming!
Gail

Dear Gail:

Never fear, my email-writing friend. Dr. Ding enjoys writing the blog for loyal readers such as yourself, and plans to neither flag nor fail.

And it’s all about rediscovering the joy, baby.

Booyah!

Dr. Ding

Notice I didn’t say: How To Throw An Upscale New Year’s Rockin’ Eve Party. I also didn’t say How To Throw A Fabulous Party With Stylish Decorations. Blah blah. Check that kind of shit out at Martha Stewart’s website, or better yet, just spend the next six years of your life reading books on the topic.

Ooh. Snark.

1. You will need twice as much booze as food, or, in the event that you’re hosting an alcohol-free evening, twice as much soda/coffee/tea. Also, ice.

2. Don’t plan a bunch of stuff, such as a “guest list” or a “menu”. If you want to have a stilted, office-type party where everyone, meaning all three anal-retentives who showed up at exactly 6 p.m., admires your fucking placemats, well, bombs away. But allow for some interesting diversions.

3. Invite a wide variety of people a couple of weeks ahead of time very vaguely, in a “save the date” way, and follow-up a week after. The day before, try to get a head count. 2/3 of that number will be who shows up. Dr. Ding knows this contradicts #2, but you’re smart enough to interpolate.

4. For Girl Jesus’s sake, don’t run out to Bed, Bath & Beyond and get a bunch of matching paper napkins and plates. Nobody gives a rat’s rectum if your toothpicks coordinate with your curtains. Use real china, real flatware, real glasses. If you run out, appoint someone to wash dishes. Usually the drunkest person will be best-suited for this role, and it allows them to quietly barf into your Dispose-All, undetected.

5. At all costs, avoid red plastic cups. They not only look tacky in photographs, but martinis taste funny in them.

6. If you must serve food, make things that can be eaten while standing up and also while lying underneath the coffee table, crying to the strains of Bob Seeger’s Night Moves at 1:00 a.m. Lushes need nourishment, too. I highly recommend store-bought appetizers in industrial-sized quantities purchased from Costco or Sam’s Club-type places. Many IKEA stores also sell killer Swedish meatballs which look really retro-classy speared with a toothpick that has curly colored cellophane on top.

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Wild Geese by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

from Dream Work by Mary Oliver
published by Atlantic Monthly Press
© Mary Oliver

Many people do not know how to have a breakup. Being the keen observer of human relationships that she is, Dr. Ding in all her dingish glory is about to unfurl some serious knowledge.

1. Don’t call the other person repeatedly. Even if you think they’re going to really need that $0.69 toothbrush. Even if she left her favorite Hello Kitty thermos. Even if he still has a half-eaten bag of pork rinds sitting on your counter. Just don’t.

2. Trust Dr. Ding. Trust.

3. Don’t stalk. It looks desperate. That, and, well, it’s illegal. Plus, it takes up a LOT of time. Time that you could be spending sitting in a bar, weeping into your overpriced drink. See #7.

4. Don’t do the Drive By. It isn’t as desperate-looking as it is just pure fucking crazy. I mean, what are you going to do if you accidentally run into him? Or over him? “Uh, hi, yeah. Good to see you again. I see you’re still not using weedkiller. Hmmm. Well, I’d better be leaving. I’ll call 911 when my cell signal hits 3 bars at the end of the street, ok? Bye now.” Yeah, that looks normal.

5. Remember one word: dignity. You need to try to refrain from begging, yelling, screaming, cajoling, pleading, and carrying-on in general. No whining “But you said you loved me! We were going to run away to Overland Park, Kansas and open up a Gap store together. Waaaah!” when you see her at Starbucks, moments prior to throwing yourself into a heap by the biscotti.

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I know, I know. Dr. Ding isn’t commenting on the vagaries of the human psyche as per usual. I’ve been busy philosophizing as to whether or not my Loony Bun is fine, Benny Lava. That, and contemplating the following: what if, instead of Rorschach inkblot cards, I used pictures such as this one. Imagine the breakthroughs that could be generated.

“Look at this card please. Now, tell me what you see.”

Uhhhh…..I see a butt. And some guys wearing skirts.

“Mmm. Anything else?”

Are they wearing drum majorette boots? The picture is kinda blurry. I always wanted drum majorette boots as a kid, but I had to wear galoshes instead.

“Go on.”

And now…every time it rains, I’m overcome by the overpowering urge to twirl a baton. Only I don’t actually own a baton, so I have to use a log of hard salami.

“Is that so?”

Yes. And now I’ve got an outstanding balance of $1,734.50 at Hickory Farms. [Turning red, frothing at mouth] Goddamned Scottish nudists. I HATE them! I hate them all!

“Ah, well. That’s certainly quite compelling. Looks like our time is up for today.” [cues The Bob Newhart Show theme music]

Words fail. You must first see, and then believe.

You must weed your mind as you would weed your garden.

Astrid Alauda, Dyspeptic Enlightenment

We have rudiments of reverence for the human body, but we consider as nothing the rape of the human mind.

Eric Hoffer

All sorts of bodily diseases are produced by half-used minds.

George Bernard Shaw

I’ve had it. Evil Manservant Jeebes is at it again. I mean, how can I perform my duties as Dr. Ding, afflicter of the comfortable, and comforter to the afflicted, when the cupboard is bare at this time of the evening? I’m a feeling a mite peckish and there is nary a cracker crumb to be found. How to cope with this latest offense?

As you all doubtless recall, I posted a plea for a new manservant not so very long ago, diabolical tendencies completely optional. Much to my great surprise there have been no takers.

Jeebes is nowhere to be found. I suspect he is crouched in the Stygian blackness of his underground laboratory, which you have to pronounce as laboratory, and which is located far beneath his underground lair, which itself is located beneath the sub- sub-basement of the Fortress of Sarcasm, whose location is of the utmost secrecy, doubtless devising fiendsh blandishments and future skullduggeries. Sometimes I really wonder what I pay him for.