Columnists

Is the MLK Playground's New Tower a Tot-trap? -more-

1989 was the year in which I had my most recent decay related work on my teeth, in which I received my most recent speeding citation (by a local motorcycle cop) and is the beginning year of my federal disability claim. At the time I received the speeding ticket, I was working, and I was driving a Plymouth Horizon owned by Rocket Pizza, where I made a modest living as a delivery driver. The tooth decay was fixed with ceramic fillings. In modern times, I haven't seen any dentists say they are willing to provide them. I was still in my twenties, and many things took place that cumulatively derailed me from continuing to do work for a living. But life is easier if you just can work, rather than trying to do all of the stuff involved in the life of a disabled person. -more-

Thirty years ago, people could see that I periodically became psychotic, and they were aware that sometimes I had behavior issues. I was on antipsychotics (which, by the way, I still take to this day). When I had ideas of going off antipsychotics, there were numerous people who would sound the alarm bells and would tell me that I had to keep taking meds. The behavior issues weren't considered a flaw in character because it was clear to people that I had a neurobiological disorder, schizophrenia. Few people attributed a lot of brains and did not see me as the greatest of minds. -more-

MLK Middle School: Dead and Alive

aThe students at MLK Jr. Middle School have totally transformed their block on Rose Street and it's worth a drive—or a walk—to swing by and appreciate the changes.

In October, on the Day of the Dead, scores of students tip-toed over the wide steps at the school building's entrance and laid down a carpet of colorful paint to celebrate the occasion.

In November, the students returned to swarm over the campus' recently uprooted lawn and hand-planted a variety of saplings—hundreds of them —to create a dense, ecological, carbon-capturing Miyawaki Forest. -more-

When I first became severely psychotic in 1982, apparently my father realized he was in over his head in trying to deal with me alone, and believed I needed professional help. He first took me to an inpatient psychiatric ward at Kaiser. However, when I was there, despite not threatening anyone or assaulting anyone, I was physically wild, such that the staff at the hospital wouldn't let me into their psych ward and said that I needed a locked ward. They referred me to Gladman in Oakland. At the time, Gladman may have been very different from how it now is. I'm not sure about this, as I haven't kept up on changes in Gladman. -more-

Stop Making Sense

Sometimes a mishearing still makes sense. Last week, I thought I heard a friend say: "Depression is a bad way to start the day." It turned out the speaker (who was perusing the morning Chronicle) actually said: "The press is a bad way to start the day."

Reads true either way. -more-