late march 1974, Colorado state, age 24

blind spot

The thing that bothered me most about Debbie was all I really wanted was some company.  I had no desire to get serious.  I was leaving for Houston in two months.  She was the one who invited me to Denver, so where did she get the nerve to abandon me like that?  Did I make a pass at her?  No.  Did I touch something I had no business touching?  No.  Did I insult her?  No.  Did I smell?  No.  Did I act like a jerk?  No.  Was I obnoxious?  Maybe, but I did not think so.  As memory served, I said little.  In fact, I was subdued the entire day.  Being here at the seminar reminded of what could have been, what should have been.  I was so innocuous, I could not for the life of me figure out what I had done wrong.  It had been this way throughout Jason's Dating Project.  Women would show initial interest, then begin to yawn and look for the Exit Door.  I was baffled.  Yes, I was doing something wrong, I knew that much.  But what?  Try as I might, I could not figure out my mistake.  I was dealing with the most confusing Blind Spot of my life.

It took what little remaining willpower I had left to show up for my weekly therapy session with Dr. Hilton.  Ordinarily when I entered his office, Dr. Hilton greeted me warmly.  Not today.  Today he said nothing.  In fact, I was surprised to notice a huge frown on his face.  Something was wrong.  Sure enough, the moment I hit the chair, he tore into me. 

"Rick, help me out.  Did you have a doggie leash around your neck last weekend?"  

"Huh??"  I was confused.  In addition to the angry tone to his voice, I was startled to see him glaring darts at me.  What was he so upset about?  

"I don't understand.  What are you talking about, Dr. Hilton?"

"You did not appear to notice, but I was at the Denver convention last weekend. Ordinarily I don't get a chance to observe my clients outside the office, but when I saw you, I took the opportunity to watch you interact.   Every time I looked up, it seemed like you were following that same girl around.  She turned left, you turned left.  She turned right, you turned right.  Did she fit you with an invisible doggie collar?  Or were you hypnotized?  More likely you were lobotomized."

Serious

EARLY APRIL 1974, Colorado state, age 24

ANGER

Not long after my talk with Dr. Hilton about Debbie, I noticed Jason burning the midnight oil.  I knocked on his door and he invited me in. 

"Hey, Rick, what can I do for you?"

"I want to talk about Anger.  Do you have all night to listen?"

Jason laughed.  "I don't know about all night, but have a seat.  What's up?

"I have felt unbelievably hostile towards women ever since that Debbie incident.  I refuse to go through life feeling this way, but I don't know how to get rid of this feeling."

"If anyone has a right to feel frustrated towards women, it's you.  But I have a question.  Did you ever confront Vanessa with your suspicions?"

"No."

"What about Christine, the one who left a note on her door and stood you up?"

"No."

"And this Debbie girl, did you ever confront her?"

"No."

"Do you see my point?"

"Of course I do.  You are suggesting that my anger builds up because I am afraid to confront the women I am angry at."

"Exactly.  Now I have another question.  The other day you said you hate women."

"That just my frustration talking.  I don't hate women, Jason, I hate Vanessa.  Other than her, girls are okay in my book."

"How bad is your anger problem?  Are you a ticking time bomb ready to explode?  Do you ever want to strike a woman?"

"I came close to slapping a woman once in college.  Her name was Connie and she had just insulted me over my mediocre dancing of all things.  It was a bad time in my life and I was enraged by her unnecessary rudeness.  Fortunately, I checked my temper and left the building instead."

"Okay, that was the right thing to do.  Anything else?"

"There was that time a couple months ago when for an instant I wanted to stab some poor girl's hand with the tip of my pencil."

"I remember that.  That was the reason we began to talk about your anger towards women.  So did you act on your impulse?"

"If you mean did I stab her, no.  That is not who I am.  I had no desire to hurt that girl.  I have no desire to hurt any girl for that matter.  Jason, I like girls.  I just wish I had the skill to attract one.  However, maybe they can sense my frustration and interpret it as hostility.  I admit I have a temper and it scares me to have these angry feelings.  That is why I wanted to talk to you tonight."

"What about Debbie?  Did you want to hit her?"

 "No.  I was upset when she lost interest in me, but that is her right.  She hurt my feelings a lot, but I was not angry at her.  Truthfully, Jason, the only woman I hate is Vanessa.  But even when she was lying to my face, I never came close to slapping her.  I am not a violent person.  However, I do feel hostile when a woman is rude to me."

"But you never act on it."

"No.  Either I suppress my anger or I walk away till the feeling passes."

"When a person angers you, how close do you come to losing control?"

"I have only been in one fight in my life."

"When was that and who did you hit?

"It was nine years ago in high school.  Some jerk decided it was funny to taunt me about my acne.  When he refused to stop, I beat the crap out of him."

"Did you feel guilty?"

"No.  I thought he got what he deserved.  Besides, he started it.  I had already walked away once, but he resumed the next chance he got.  Personally I do not believe in violence.  However, I admit I am not perfect."

"Here is what I think.  You strike me as someone with a great deal of self-discipline.  However, right now you are facing a very difficult time and you don't know how to express your anger in an appropriate way towards people who upset you.  So you come talk to me instead.  Good.  That's a smart thing to do.  Until you learn how to confront the people who anger you, you should do the next best thing and find someone you trust to talk things through."

I nodded.  "So, Jason, are you interested in returning to Houston with me next month?"

Jason smiled.  "Probably not.  But I will miss you.  And I will miss our talks."

"I will miss you too, Jason.  Without you and Dr. Hilton, I don't know how I would have made it through these past months."

late may 1974, Colorado state, age 24

the verdict is in

In late May, I found a letter sitting in my office mailbox.  I had a pretty good idea what it would say.  Sure enough, I had been dismissed from the program.   The tone of the dismissal letter rubbed me the wrong way.  'Dear Rick...'  Give me a break!  Dear Rick, my ass.  Dr. Fujimoto never meant to keep me.  Unlike my high school days where I received second chances all the time, there was no forgiveness here.  My personal development over the second part of the year meant nothing to Fujimoto.   

I showed Jason the letter.  He shook his head in disgust. 

"Rick, I have talked it over with a couple other graduate students.  The consensus is that you did not get a fair shake.  Everyone agrees one should expect people will make mistakes and should be given a fair chance to correct them.  After all, if we knew everything to begin with, why would we even be here?  My friends agree that once you got the message, you made the necessary changes in the latter part of the year.  That should have merited a second chance. 

On the other hand, they also pointed out you are fully responsible for your fate.  It was your lousy sense of office politics early in the school year that caused your undoing.  Everyone agrees you should have read Fujimoto's signals before it was too late."

"In other words, I should've kept my mouth shut." 

Jason nodded. 

Suspicious

late may 1974, Colorado state, age 24

the final confrontation

As noted philosopher Yogi Berra once said, it's never over till it's over.  On the day I was cleaning out my office and preparing to leave, someone knocked on my door and said Fujimoto wanted to see me.  I think I would have preferred a root canal to seeing my nemesis one last time, but my curiosity got the better of me.  Dumb move. 

I seethed as I walked to Dr. Fujimoto's office.  In my opinion, my demise was 99% Fujimoto's responsibility.  If it was left up to the other faculty members, I believed they would have been comfortable letting me stay.  Technically speaking, I had earned the right to stick around.  Even despite that ridiculous 'D' Fujimoto had stuck me with in Interviewing class, I had finished with a 'B' average.  Lot of good that did me.  

Given Fujimoto's penchant for ruthlessness, no other professor would dare champion my cause.  Dr. Fujimoto was a very intimidating man.  Furthermore, as Head of the Clinical Psychology Department, he held all the cards.  That made it far too risky for his colleagues to oppose him.  Why would anyone risk their neck to stick up for a lowly graduate student?  Naturally there was a part of me that considered fighting the decision, but something Jason once said changed my mind.

"Rick, do you really want to spend the next three years in a place where you are not wanted?"

Jason was right.  Without someone to champion my cause, I would be virtually defenseless.  In cop lingo, I might beat the rap, but I would never beat the ride.  Fujimoto would surely find some way to make me miserable.  With a huge sigh of disappointment, I decided there was no sense in sticking around. 

When I arrived at Fujimoto's office, Fujimoto got right to work.  He began by reminding me I had too aggressive a personality to be a therapist. 

"Oh, shut up!", I thought to myself.  How many times do I have to hear this?  Fujimoto had more to say, but I tuned him out.  I had heard it all before.  In fact, I wondered why we were even having this conversation.  I guess Fujimoto wanted one last chance to kick around his favorite piñata.  As the man droned on, I debated whether to say anything.  I was dying to tell Fujimoto how all the graduate students agreed he never gave me a fair shake.  I wanted to tell him I had far more compassion for people than he ever did.  I wanted him to know I would never dream of treating someone as ruthlessly as he had treated me.  But did I have the courage to say these things?

Finally, Fujimoto stopped.  "I imagine you have something to say.  You usually do."

I actually smiled at that crack.  Touché.  Unfortunately, the cat had my tongue.  This man had my number like no other.  It took a while, but I finally screwed up the courage to speak. 

"Dr. Fujimoto, someday someone like me will cross your path again.  If I had one suggestion, why not try working with him instead of constantly pointing out his deficiencies?  Instead of hostility and intimidation, why not consider a more gentle approach.  Did it ever occur to you that if you had offered to work with me, I might have blossomed?"

Dr. Fujimoto was about to reply, but I put up my hand and cut him off.  

"With all due respect, I think I deserved a second chance."

Fujimoto was surprised to see Mr. Beat Around the Bush speak up decisively.  Hey, don't tell anyone, but this guy had taught me a thing or two.  I wondered if his response would be candid or evasive.  When I noticed a wry smile cross his face, I had my answer.  Evasive.  Whenever he did not want to answer a question, he retreated behind the word 'You'. 

"I am sure You feel very disappointed, Mr. Archer.  I understand from Dr. Hilton that You have worked very hard to address your issues.  I applaud You for that.  Unfortunately, Dr. Hilton also confirmed my suspicion that Your bold, outgoing personality has no place in a profession that values gentle listeners over assertive, outspoken young men such as yourself."

I shook my head in disgust.  I could not believe Fujimoto would suggest Dr. Hilton had stuck the final knife in my back.  Even if it was true, shame on him for bringing Dr. Hilton's name into this.  Dr. Hilton was a man who tried as hard as he could to help me correct my fatal flaws.  Why tarnish his memory?  Angered by Fujimoto's comment, I found further courage to respond.

"With all due respect, Dr. Fujimoto, I did not fail your program, your program failed me.  You run a program that is supposed to instruct its students how to help people with psychological problems.  That is your stated purpose.  But you missed the mark with me.  I won't deny I came here with considerable baggage.  However, if you had taken me under your wing and worked with me, you would have discovered I am the equal of any other first-year student.  Okay, so maybe I wasn't a good listener when I showed up on your doorstep.  I contend that is a skill that can be taught.  And yes, I was arrogant and defensive.  I made progress in that area as well.    Furthermore I have demonstrated superior academic talent and shown that I work hard.  In other words, I demonstrated my ability and I showed my willingness to be coached.  Doesn't that count for something?  Was there some reason why you gave up on me so fast?"

Dr. Fujimoto frowned at my bold rebuke.  To my surprise, he used the word "I" a couple of times.

"You are understandably bitter because you tried as hard as you could and came up short.  I could defend my decision at length, but I doubt seriously you would find my explanation satisfying.  So let me be brief.  In my opinion, Therapy is not a profession you are suited for.  I made the determination that you are a square peg trying to fit a round hole.  This is a trite cliché, of course, but an analogy which fits my observation precisely.  I am sorry your time here has been bittersweet."

"Dr. Fujimoto, you have your opinion and I have mine, so I guess that sums it up.  Are we finished?"

Fujimoto nodded, so I got up.  To his credit, Dr. Fujimoto offered me his hand and wished me well. 

late may 1974, Colorado state, age 24

hit the road, toad

As I walked back to my office, a flood of disappointment surged through me.  Jason's door was open, so I walked in.

"How did it go?" Jason asked. 

"About what I expected.  I told him I believed I deserved a second chance and I am disappointed none has been forthcoming.  I told him I put my heart and soul into salvaging my position here.  I said I tried as hard as I could to tone down the aggressive side of my personality and fit in.  I said if they had shown me an ounce of mercy, I had little doubt I would have become a good therapist."

"What did Fujimoto say?"

"He suggested I was a square peg for a round hole."

Jason grinned.  "My, how eloquent!  So this is it.  Before you head back to Houston, I am curious to know if you have any final thoughts about this place."

I frowned as I gathered my thoughts.  "All right, Jason, here it is.  What does it say about this Department that they would dismiss a student who tried so hard to make amends?  Yes, I admit I had my shortcomings.  But if they were so damn smart at curing people, then why were they so reluctant to test their skills on a willing participant?" 

Jason nodded.  "Good point.  I agree.  Anything else?"

"This is a Clinical Psychology program dedicated to preparing future therapists.  Fujimoto spent day after day discussing ways to modify unwanted behavior.  So what kept him from practicing what he preached?  Curing a simple narcissistic personality disorder like mine should have been child's play for a genius like him.  Nope, I wasn't worth the effort.  I was a square peg for a round hole and Fujimoto is no carpenter."

Jason nodded sympathetically.  "Well said.  Where do you stand with women?  Are you still mad at me?"

Recalling my failed dating program here in the second part of the school year, I gave Jason a rueful smile.  "Don't be ridiculous.  You have been the best friend I have ever had.  I am eternally grateful for the countless times you came to my rescue when I was down.  It is not your fault that I can't seem to get rid of this morbid fear I have of a woman's rejection."

"I appreciate that, Rick, but I still regret that curing your Rejection Phobia turned out to be a lot tougher than I expected."

"Don't be so hard on yourself.  I haven't given up.  In fact, fighting this problem will be my main priority when I get back to Houston.  Thanks to you, I think I have a fighting chance.  But now it's time for me to hit the road."

As Jason stood up, he gestured for me to wait a moment.

"Rick, before you go, I want to say something that bothers me.  There will be no safety net for you in Houston.  If things go south with women, I fear you will withdraw and avoid women for long periods like you have in the past.  You cannot allow this to happen.  You have got to lick this Phobia now or see the condition worsen to the point where you just give up fighting.  Beware the Point of No Return."

"Beware the Point of No Return."  Hmm.  That sounded like "Beware the Ides of March", Julius Caesar's deadly warning.  Maybe Jason was right.  My fear of women could be fatal. 

Nodding that I understood, we shook hands and gave each other a big hug.  I would miss Jason.  In the years to come, I would think about the things he taught me as I battled my fears, especially the Point of No Return.  Jason told me to never quit fighting my fears.  Given the troubles I would face in Houston, that was the best advice I received all year.

I had parked right outside the building for a quick getaway.  My car was packed, so I gave my basketball in the passenger seat an affectionate pat for good luck and took off.  I left town feeling nothing but contempt for Dr. Fujimoto, an attitude that has never changed.  My nemesis was a bright guy, but he lacked a heart.  And so this chapter of my life ended.