Personal Obsessions

There are certain parts about myself that are so private that even I have a hard time getting in touch with them. However, there are other areas of my life that I obsess about to the point that they have become burdensome to my immediate family.


One of these problems is the holiday of HALLOWEEN. To me, there can be no more holy day than October 31st. I begin to prepare for the holiday in August and have an extensive collection of Halloween memorabilia — some items dating back to the turn of the century. We have a personal Halloween party for all of our neighbors and an office party during which time all of us work in costume, and any patients being serviced that day arrive in costume. The party grows year by year with screams and howls and sound effects loud enough to frighten the pediatricians across the hall. We affectionately call our office party the “BOO-ffet,” and we serve our drinks from a bubbling cauldron. If you share my love for the macabre, please feel free to correspond.

Palm Reading and Tarot Cards!

Before I became a dentist, I held a variety of jobs, but none has been more fun than that of palm and tarot card reader. To this very day, I still accept engagements for private parties as well as provide my staff with ongoing advice. When I accept an engagement, I use my pseudo name and never discuss my “day job.”

Saint Patrick’s Day

The last and final mania was thrust upon me by our neighbors. Acknowledging that I have a very competitive nature, I feel it is my duty to provide the biggest and best Saint Patrick’s Day party the South Side of Chicago has ever seen. Friends and relatives start turning green with disgust in early March when I reveal my designs for yet another marzipan Blarney Stone sculpture. Since we live in the heart of Chicago’s Irish-American community, our revelers can be treated to food, drink and a lively parade.

Along the line of duty to my neighbors and all the “little green people” I took bohdran (Irish drum) and tin whistle lessons eventually becoming skilled enough to be invited to play with local bands. To this day most of my friends would agree that the expression “marching to a different drum” very much applies to me.