Archive for the ‘Communication’ Category

Whether or not you agree with the verdict in the Casey Anthony trial, it’s not easy making life-and-death decisions that will forever be scrutinized and second-guessed by the public. The more infamous the case, the greater the responsibility—and the potential criticism.

As another defense attorney admonished the jury during summation in a long ago show trial, “you are the only bulwark that can resist oppression in a time of public excitement. Judges cannot do it. The fathers of this country put this power in the hands of the people.” If that burden weren’t enough, the attorney went on to assure jurors the accused was “the kind of man who never fails a friend. He was loved by his followers. Open-handed, generous, a man a bookmaker would trust with a ten-thousand-dollar bet.”

No mention of whether he wore a halo.

Continue reading...

It was a July day in 1975, and Judge Rudolph T. Randa’s municipal courtroom in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, was packed. As the defendant stood before sentencing, the judge asked if he had anything he wanted to say on his own behalf.

Needing to use his hands to speak his piece, the defendant automatically pulled them from his pockets … where he’d been holding up pants that were four sizes too big. His trousers fell to the floor. No underwear. Thus the defendant’s unplanned statement was to moon the crowded courtroom.

The poor man quickly pulled up his pants as the spectators tried to smother their snickers. But with the guard’s admonishment to “keep your hands in your pockets,” he probably found it even more difficult to come up with appropriate words for his circumstances.

A recent study conducted at the University of Birmingham in England found that talking with your hands triggers mental images that helps people solve complex problems involving spatial visualization. In other words, people who use their hands when talking find it easier to put things in mental order. Other studies have found that people tend to view those who talk with their hands as more warm, agreeable, and energetic … and those who don’t as more cold and calculating.

Continue reading...

“I’ve always wanted that played at my funeral,” I said, prompting my mother to ask again the name of the song.

“Good Riddance,” I replied, using the alternate title of the composition Billie Joe Armstrong originally wrote about the breakup of a relationship. “Good grief,” my mother said, “what kind of song is that to play at a funeral?” My sister-in-law, brother, and I quickly assured her it was an appropriate song about endings.

Suddenly my nine-year-old nephew piped up from the back. “This is the song I want at my funeral.” He held up his iPod …

“Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road.

Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go.

So make the best of this test and don’t ask why.

It’s not a question but a lesson learned in time.

It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right.

I hope you had the time of your life.”

“That’s it!” the middle generation chimed together.

“That’s beautiful,” my mother said.

Just caught a commercial for an upcoming program with actor Tim Curry playing a serial-killer type, and I couldn’t help thinking, “He looks pretty good for a dead guy.”

Several years ago, a coworker claimed she’d heard on the radio that Curry, star of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, had died. My brother happened to phone, and I passed along the erroneous news—which he’s never let me forget. Curry is one of the most booked actors in the business, and with each appearance, my brother notes, “He looks pretty good for a dead guy.”

Can’t blame my brother. He doesn’t get many opportunities to rib me about falling for wild rumors. I’m the kind who wouldn’t believe the sky was blue unless I checked it myself. To say I’m not trusting is putting it mildly. So it’s mind-boggling to me why otherwise rational people will fall for anything that arrives in their in-boxes promising: I SWEAR THIS IS TRUE. That’s usually the first indication it’s not.

Continue reading...

One of my favorite books is Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove, and I’m equally crazy about the miniseries adaptation. I particularly love the scene when Captain Call takes exception to an Army scout whacking young Newt, who’s trying to prevent him from commandeering Dish’s horse. Captain Call sets the scout straight with some brutal whacking of his own, then quietly tells the stunned onlookers: “I hate rude behavior in a man. Won’t tolerate it.”

Continue reading...

Oooh, I just lost my temper. Some days that’s easy to do. I’ve been struggling with a pounding migraine, plus the accompanying nausea and sensitivity to light and sound, so my tolerance tank is running low.

Continue reading...

It’s New Year’s Eve. You’re out with your spouse or sweetheart. What a perfect night for … an argument.

Hey, it happens. But if you get into a row because one of you seemed too flirtatious with another party-goer or someone gave the wrong answer to the all-important “Do I look fat in this?” resolve it before you get into the car. A survey by the British auto insurer MORE TH>N, blames “romantic road rage” for more than 2.5 million traffic accidents in Britain.

Continue reading...

Ah yes, motherly advice. Some mothers tell their daughters to guard their virtue. Some tell their daughters to marry good providers. Some tell their daughters to vigorously pursue their dreams and become good providers.

My mother told me not to be too surprised if the gentlest person on earth suddenly pops me in the mouth.

Now … before anyone misreads that, my mother has always taught me to stand up for myself and not let anyone be abusive toward me. On that occasion, however, she was referring to my talent for flippancy. I’ve learned since then to bridle my inherent ability to throw out well-timed, sarcastic replies. But my internal censor hasn’t always worked as well as it should have.

Continue reading...

All three of my cancer diagnoses involved multiple surgeries and treatments initiated in rapid succession. Because of previous health issues, I was used to asking doctors questions, taking notes, making sure to get a clear understanding of what to expect during and after procedures. But the information is only as good as the doctor doling it out. And while most of my doctors have been blessings, a couple were not.

One had the bedside manner of a slab of marble. He resented questions and answered in monosyllables … if he answered at all. He responded to my inquiry about a complicated surgery with a short video. The production, with its idealized cartoon renderings, failed to mention the potential circulatory complications, long-term back issues, and other serious risks common to the procedure. Those I discovered only after suffering major complications that took three years and several operations to correct. So I was surprised after leaving Dr. Marble to discover he’d noted in my medical records that he went over those complications with me in detail prior to surgery. Had that been true, I might have taken a different path.

Continue reading...

My nine-year-old nephew just finished his first season as a top hitter on a baseball all-star team. When he started as a little T-baller a few years ago, I suppose his coach warned him not to sling the bat behind him after a hit. Good advice—but unnecessary. He and his younger sister know well what can happen when a bat spins out of the hitter’s hands.

So many times they’ve heard the tale of my one and only baseball hit. It was a game of cousins and friends in Alabama, and I took my place at the plate: the sorriest hitter on the team. As the ball came toward me, I all but shut my eyes, swung the bat in its general direction, and HOLY COW! I connected. The ball went bouncing toward the pitcher and I took off! First base … I could hear yelling … second base … third base. Only then did I notice there weren’t any basemen. Everyone was huddled over something on the ground at home plate.

Continue reading...