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The
New General Custer:
We
are guided along a corridor that is at right
angles to the one that brought us from the
elevator.
At the end of this walkway, we are
ushered into a rather large office with the
name, Herbert Bernstein, Ph.D. written on the
door.
As
the door opens, I see our host immediately rise
and come forward to greet us. With a broad smile on his face, he greets us as if we
were welcomed family members who had just
returned from an extended journey.
He’s
wearing the same style clothing he’d been
wearing the day of my flat tire —
loose-fitting pants with a waistband, string
tie, and a casual, short-sleeved, knit shirt. Today, his hair is pulled back and looks much more gold
in color than the white that I remember from our
last encounter.
Without the western-style sun hat, he
also looks much younger.
I guess that he’s in his early fifties.
“Welcome,
Stoney.
It’s nice to see you again under
more pleasant circumstances.”
He takes my hand in both of his, looks
intently into my eyes and gives me a warm
welcome, then turns his attention to Jazbell.
“And
this must be the charming lady you spoke of.”
“Yes,
Dr. Bernstein, this is Jazbell Scrivener.
Jazbell, this is Dr. Bernstein.”
He
takes Jazbell’s right hand in both of his.
Jazbell, following his cues, immediately
adds her left hand to the greeting.
She also returns his eye contact with
equal intensity.
“Miss Scrivener, it’s a pleasure to
meet you."
She
responds with a broad smile and simply says,
“Thank you. ”
In silence, they maintain hand and eye
contact for what in most social circles would be
considered too long.
He breaks the silence with, “May I call
you Jazbell?”
“Why,
certainly, Dr. Bernstein.”
“And
please call me Herbert.”
Jazbell’s
natural charm is immediately apparent, and I can
see that there’s an instant rapport between
them.
“Please
come in and be seated.”
He directs us to left side of his office,
which is decorated more like the living room in
a comfortable, casual, middle-class home.
He motions us to the couch, and he sits
nearby in a well-worn, wingback chair.
As
we sit, my eyes take in the rest of his office.
Conspicuous by its absence is the large
desk that most male executives place between
themselves and those who enter their offices.
This office, by contrast, is very open,
and there is no furniture to hide behind, nor is
there any part of the room that radiates the
traditional dominant male aura of “This is my
space, keep out!”
The floor is covered with a very plush,
blue and green carpet.
The central area of this office is
completely open. Several stackable chairs are in the corner behind the
entrance door.
On
the opposite side of the room from where we sit,
a table-like counter runs the full length of the
wall.
Three low, two-drawer file cabinets are
set at the left, center and right under the
counter.
A series of double shelves line the full
length of the wall just above the countertop,
and above the shelves the walls are covered with
numerous pictures. The floor under the counter and for about five feet in
front of the counter is covered with what
appears to be commercial-grade, composition
tile.
The high-back, wheeled, desk chair that
our host was sitting in when we arrived now
rests idly in the corner nearest the window.
The window is wide and high and affords a
grand view of the institute’s grounds and the
mountains beyond.
Dr.
Bernstein’s words bring my focus back to our
conversation.
“Stoney, you look a bit surprised.”
“I
must admit; this is not what I expected to find
upon my visit to see General Custer.”
“You
expected to find just another inmate in the
loony bin?”
“Well,
sort of, but certainly not just another nut.
Your uniqueness and insight at our last
encounter sparked my curiosity.
Quite frankly, I came here to find out
what a man with your demeanor and style was
doing in a place like this.”
“I
hope you’re not disappointed with what
you’ve found in place of your expectations.”
“On
the contrary, I’m quite delighted.
And, I do hope we’re not intruding.”
“Oh,
certainly not.
My office is always open to those who
choose to come here to see me. Most come by appointment; however, as you may recall, I
invited you to come any time, so welcome.”
“Thank
you.
I do feel welcomed.”
“Stoney,
I sense that you came here for two reasons,
first to be of service to a loony-bin resident,
and second, to acquire the basic information for
a story for your magazine.
Is that correct?”
“Yes,
you’re correct, but obviously you don’t need
any help from me, and regarding a story, I have
lost my focus for that at the moment.”
Herbert
responds with, “I have no need for your help;
however, if you would be willing to use a
different word, such as “In the service of
co-creating,” I am sure we can be of mutual
benefit.”
He
turns his focus to Jazbell.
“And, Miss Jazbell, Stoney said he
wanted you to meet me. But, of course, when he made that statement, he thought
I was an inmate in an insane asylum.
So let me clear off the table his
original reason for bringing you here.
First, I am probably not crazy, and
second, I do belong here.
So with that out of the way, let’s get
to know each other.
You get to ask the first question.”
“OK,”
Jazbell responds, “What is your capacity
here?”
“I
am a one-third owner and the co-director of
neuro-psychology for the institution.
My specialty is dealing directly with the
patients.
Thus, I leave most of the directing to my
co-directors. And so, Miss Jazbell, what do you do that might bring
you to a place like this to assist an inmate?”
“I
do whatever my heart leads me to do.
I came here with no special purpose,
other than to be with Stoney and to meet you.”
“But
I’m not what you expected.”
“What
I expected is completely irrelevant.
Actually, what I found is another
blessing which shows me, once again, that I have
no need to let my head control my life. A door has opened for me today that was previously
closed.
In that opening and in your presence, I
feel a lot of joy, and so I’m going to let
that joy lead me where it will.”
“You
are certainly a remarkable lady.
Thank you, Stoney, for bringing her
here.”
“It
is indeed my pleasure to do so.”
“And,
Stoney, you have a question for me?”
I
smile and jokingly say, “How did you know I
might have a question or two?
The day of the flat tire, why didn’t
you tell me who you were?”
“Four
reasons come immediately to mind.
First, I usually let my actions speak for
who I am.
Second, I was having too much fun playing
loony-bin inmate; third, if I had told you who I
was, you probably wouldn’t have come here; and
fourth, if you had come here, knowing my
position, your experience today would have been
completely different from what it has been so
far.”
I
say, “Less the cowboy hat, you’re dressed
today much the same as the day we met.
That doesn’t seem to fit your title as
a Ph.D., your position here at the Center, or
your relationship to the patients?”
“From
my perspective, Stoney, my mode of dress fits
all three quite well.
I normally wear
my clothes the same way I wear my titles, loose
and casual; however, when I go out into the
world, I dress appropriately for whatever
occasion I intend to experience.
For example, if I were going to a formal
convention of my peers, I’d probably wear a
suit, at least for part of the time.
Here
at the Center, my casual mode of dress is one of
the secrets of my success.
I go to my patients.
I don’t expect them to come to me.
I also match them in dress, style,
behavior, speech, body language or what ever
else seems right in the moment.
Some
years ago, my long blond hair and my western
style sun hat inspired one of my patients to
call me General Custer.
Soon, other patients were calling me by
that name.
They loved the name, and they seemed to
relate to General Custer in a way that they
couldn’t, or wouldn’t, relate to Dr.
Bernstein.
So I adopted the name and soon thereafter
shed the formal attire.
I find my mode of dress and my hair style
help put me on par with the those I counsel.
With
regard to being referred to as Dr. Bernstein, I
don’t give a damn about titles and as for my
position here, I own the place, at least part of
it, and so there’s nobody here who has any say
about how I dress or act except me.
Does that sufficiently answer your
question?”
“Thoroughly.”
“Good!
Now it’s my turn to ask a question of
you, Stoney.”
“Ask
away,” I say.
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