Attack

A post shared by Smith Galtney (@smithgaltney) on Nov 15, 2017 at 10:58am PST

We had an unpleasant encounter this morning on our usual walk. It was quiet and cold, so I let Clover off the leash, and she leapt and raced after squirrels as we strolled with Gus along the path. Mark and I were, in fact, congratulating ourselves on how good Clover is, so reliable off the leash, unlike Gus, whose instinct is to dash off and stubbornly resist coming when he's called (he gives us the side-eye and smiles). A man appeared up ahead, walking toward us, and when he saw Clover, he froze. She froze too. She didn't come when we called her. The man started yelling at her, clapping and lurching (in an apparent attempt to scare her away), and she started barking at him, as I ran toward her to grab her. Every lurch the man made sent her skittering away, barking. After I had grabbed her, he started yelling at us, "YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF LETTING A DOG LIKE THAT LOOSE! THAT DOG ATTACKED ME, I'M CALLING THE POLICE, I'M FOLLOWING YOU TO YOUR CAR AND CALLING THE POLICE!"

We were so taken aback, trying to get away/explain/apologize/contradict him all at once. A runner had come up just as this all happened, and she magically calmed the man down. I didn't really hear any of what she said (I was hustling away with my attack dog), but Mark did, and he talked to her later in the parking lot to thank her. She said something like, "I can tell you're really scared and it felt like you were being attacked," all while assuring him he wasn't, in fact, in any danger, or being attacked. She was a magical stranger, sympathetic to us and yet so kind to this man.

(We are typically so careful about letting dogs off the leash, truly. I always try to see things from the perspective of people who aren't expecting a dog, don't like dogs, are afraid of them, are unfamiliar with them, etc. I feel terrible about it, and simultaneously annoyed.)

Sixteen

According to my acupuncturers (I know, I just wanted to write that), I should be eating warm foods, roasted vegetables (especially orange-colored ones), whole grains, ginger tea. Drinking plenty of water, but not cold water and not during meals. I start off each day with a healthy bowl of oatmeal, but things go awry soon after. Still, in the Digestive Wars, I feel that I currently have the upper hand (is it me vs. bad bacteria? Or me vs. my very own small intestine?).

More on lying liars! Joanna brought my attention to this episode of This American Life. It's called "Hoaxing Yourself," and it's chock full of people who lie for odd and complex reasons. The guy who pretends to be British/believes he is British reminds me of the time, in my 20s, I met a British nanny who seemed really familiar, and eventually I remembered briefly meeting her my sophomore year of college, in Wellesley, Massachusetts, when she was most definitely not British.

The most interesting story to me, though, is the "Rent" fan who faked being terminally ill--factitious disorder!

I have gone back several times to read this story, of a young woman who faked cancer for months. It's absolutely fascinating, in part because she did this so successfully in person (not just online, which is weirdly common), and also because she didn't do it for financial gain--or any real gain that makes any sense. Attention, I guess, and in her case, connection with someone who actually was (physically) sick.

Then there's the aspect of factitious disease, particularly Munchausen by Proxy, that's hideously sexist, focused as it tends to be on women, particularly mothers. It's a little "hysteria," circa 1800, really. But still, incredibly interesting.

Eleven

I coincidentally read two fascinating longish-form things today about fabulists, Hanna Rosin's piece in the New Republic about Steven Glass and this 2012 New Yorker story about a marathon runner who (almost certainly) cheats. It's fascinating to read about liars who can sustain these super complicated stories for so long--both stories involve fake websites, notes, and characters. The first article is also about forgiveness, and the second is more open-ended.

It made me want to listen to this good old This American Life episode, "Liars." So good.

And I've always been interested in Munchausen Syndrome and Munchausen by proxy, which I guess now fall under the umbrella term Factitious Disorder? All of these are fabulous syndrome names, and the disorders are ones that are somehow simultaneously beyond my understanding and weirdly comprehensible. I think anyone with even a tiny bit of experience with lying, getting caught in a complicated lie or feeling the terror/gratification of a successful lie or exaggeration, could see how this might happen, and how it would be both compulsive and satisfying, but also...humiliating. And complicated, of course, by the fact that it's a mental illness, a true compulsion.




“All of us have to be prevaricators, hypocrites, and liars every day of our lives; otherwise the social structure would fall into pieces the first day. We must act in one another's presence just as we must wear clothes. It is for the best” ― O. Henry

Holy Motors

After the movie,
a white limousine drives by.
We're all in disguise.

first day of school

yesterday i cried a little listening to this story about kids going off to college. i think it was because it was this kid's first day of high school. and he's my baby.

the sky was so strange after that.

mr t says

treat your mother right.