1. Happy Birthday Shaggy ;) Mo, I can't imagine you on the couch, how can Dr. Saguaro keep a straight face? I imagine him laughing for 43 minutes either because of your wit, or the bill he is going to send you. Did you dub him Saguaro because he is prickly?

goike at 1:10PM on Aug 17th 2007

2. oohhhh....so that's what his signature means, lol. thanks for shedding some light on that. happy birthday, shaggy! i've really enjoyed your comments :)

lmai83 at 2:09PM on Aug 17th 2007

3.
VERY INTERSTING.! I DO NOT PERSCRIBE TO THE IDEA OF CHARGING FRIENDS FOR SECOND HAND THERAPY. I DO LIKE THE USE OF FRIENDS FOR SUPPORT WITH YOUR THERAPY SESSIONS. MY DAGHTER IS A THERAPIST AND SHE HAS A THERAPIST. I ALSO HAVE A THERAPIST. THATS LIKE THREE FOR THE PRICE OF ONE.. VERY OFTEN I HAVE MY DAUGHTER ASK HER THERAPIST A QUESTION I WANT ANSWERED. AS SOON AS MY DAUGHTER LEAVES THE THERAPIS'S OFFICE WE REHASH THE SESSION AND DECIDE OUR NEXT SESSION STRADEGY. WE ALSO EVALUATE THE THERAPIST'S JOB PERFORMANCE. AT THE MOMENT I HAVE A GREAT THERAPIST. I HAVE FIRED SEVERAL IN THE PAST. I DO NOT WANT TO THINK OF MYSELF AS A THERAPY JUNKIE BUT I HAVE HAD MAYBE 15 YEARS OF THERAPY FOR VARIOUS LIFE CRISES. INCLUDING; CHILD CARE ISSUES, THE FOUR YEARS LEADING UP TO MY DIVORCE. A BAD RELATIONSHIP, AND THREE HOSPITALIZATIONS FOR BI-POLAR DISORDER. PRESENTLY I GO FOR POST TRAUMATIC EFFECTS OF RETIREMENT, MY DAD'S DEATH AND BREAST CANCER.
I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF MASS VACATIONS FOR PSYCHOTHERAPISTS. ARE YOU SERIOUS? AS FAR AS I KNOW EACH THERAPIST IS AN INDIVIDUAL WITH THEIR OWN SCHEDULED VACATION. YOU MUST BE JOKING?
LAST NIGHT I MET A LADY AT MY WEIGHT WATCHERS MEETING [ ALSO A FORM OF THERAPY] WHO TOLD BE SHE BEEN IN THERAPY FOR 47 YEARS. NOW THAT'S A CERTIFIED THERAPY JUNKIE. I HAVE A FEAR OF BEING ONE.

" YOU HAVE NOTHING IF YOU DON'T HAVE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH" TAKE IT FROM ONE WHO HAS LOST IT A FEW TIMES . VERY SCARY!

THANKS FOR THE BLOG. VERY INTERSTING AND ENTERTAINING! BEST OF LUCK WITH YOUR BUISNESS VENTURE AND MOST OF ALL YOUR SANITY.

marsha beckerman at 2:31PM on Aug 17th 2007

4.

HAVE A GREAT BIRTHDAY SHAGGY!

marsha beckerman at 2:34PM on Aug 17th 2007

5. I gave my shrink twelve years. If it didn't work, I'd go to Lourdes.

In '99 I went to Lourdes.

;)

Happy Birthday Shaggy. Feliz Cumpleaños.

Spain reads you, Mo!

Miguel Cane at 2:48PM on Aug 17th 2007

6. this was hilarious. this is clearly your finest piece of writing. print it out and put it on the refrigerator. props, brotha, and good luck getting sane.

shady v at 4:11PM on Aug 17th 2007

7. Oy vey! "I'll take the-rapist for 800, Alex!" (old SNL skit) LOL!! Thanks for the grins and giggles!

web jones at 4:38PM on Aug 17th 2007

8. Hehehe...this kinda reminds me of an idea I had when I was eleven. It involved people calling me, and I would talk about the most current episode of their favorite TV show (with energy and enthusiasm, of course). So it's like the radio, only on a phone. Great for people who missed their TV show that week (this was before Tivo, mind you) and for blind people who wanted to join in on the watercooler conversations. Way to beat the system at its own game, Mo!

Yes, a very happy birthday to you, Blayze! May you find inner peace and gain greater knowledge during the years to come.

Marta R. at 4:46PM on Aug 17th 2007

9. As a "shrink," I had to respond. I thought your piece was hilarious, so you see, some of us really do have a sense of humor. Now a little enlightenment.

First, having practiced on both the east coast (Philly) and now LA, the exodus in August for vacations is more true for the East coast than us Californians. Mainly our vacations are shorter out here because we have more nice days in the fall and winter to also take a week off to enjoy!

Seond, do ask for your 45 minutes- you paid for it. My rates are similar but I give people close to the full hour (though a few minutes are spent up front doing scheduling and such). If you only knew the years and years and huge amounts of money spent on getting those degrees and licensure and such... But you do want someone who is truly well-qualified working with your brain.

FInally, what I tell my patients is that due to strict confidentiality laws (called HIPPA), I can't tell anyone anything about you or our sessions except in certain specific situations (i.e., if I think you may harm yourself or others), but YOU can tell anyone anything you want. However, you have to be very honest and ethical about what you are doing from the get-go. So, if your friends want to pay you for the cliff notes version of your sessions, that is their perogative. But they have to know that is what they are paying for. However, you also need to tell Dr. S what you are doing as well (to which you will spend another year on the couch digesting why you have the need to do this, and why you are friends with people who would pay you for surrogate therapy!).

Take care, and thanks for a good laugh!

DrJoan

DrJoanP at 5:03PM on Aug 17th 2007

10. Forgive me if I'm sounding biased but I've never felt any fondness for psychiatrists, therapists, or shrinks in general. I find the study of psychology very fascinating, but those who work in the field as shrinks, I generally loath. As you've noted, Manhattan is very tense right now. After running around Midtown, SoHo, and the Village in pursuit of a hole in the wall off off Broadway theatre, (read all about it in my future Kerouac inspired novel “The Callous East”) I clearly sensed a great unease pulsing throughout the streets. Enough to make Woody Allen a bit more neurotic than he usually is. Yes, I doubt I could ever open up to one of these billionaire shrinks, or any of them. Not in New York, not anywhere. As a shy and awkward kid in middle school, my mother thought I might be depressed. I wasn’t the average apple cheeked boy, I was nerdy. Generally I was a geek with a low sense of self esteem. So, we went to a handful of psychiatrists and even a therapist to see what could be wrong. I despised the whole ordeal. I sought no reason to discuss my inner feelings and emotions with some old dinosaur who got his or her PhD at Rutgers or wherever. The big Ritalin controversy was making headlines at the time when a college student overdosed on them. Now many news reports were questioning the safety and effectiveness of antidepressant medications. The drug Paxil was coming under fire from the media. That unnerved me as I was prescribed Paxil, but my family insisted on seeing these psycho-babblers and popping pills. They didn’t make me happy, and we eventually all gave up on seeing them. I’d rather be shy and awkward than dull and apathetic on pills.

I find talking to friends and resolving my own issues far more helpful than that of a shrink. I still have self-esteem issues, an occasional bout of depression once in awhile, but I work around them. However Mo, I urge you to cheat the system and help your own friends via Dr. Saguaro’s advice. If you’re paying exuberant amounts for a Manhattan shrink, you mind’s well share the wealth of knowledge Dr. Saguaro can give to solve all your [blank] issues. For me personally, I think I can do better without the aid of them. I just hope Dr. Saguaro doesn’t read your blog.

Now for my special birthday edition segment of Mo Rocca 180. It’s long, sorry!

‘How I came face to face with Mo Rocca (and Bill Clinton Too)’

It was June 1st, a lazy summer day. My friend Pasquale and I, along with his girlfriend decided to take a day-trip to New York. Our last ventures to New York included scoring cheap tickets to Monty Python’s Spamalot and purchasing two baby turtles on the crowded Canal Street of Chinatown. I’ve named the turtles Jack Preakness and Neal Belmont, and they live a pretty happy life in a nice big tank. Anyway, we did our usual walking around Midtown, ate at the Stardust Diner (decent food, great 50’s décor), rode the Marquis Hotel elevator up and down it’s 45 floors, (I find it dumb but Pasquale thinks it’s the best free thrill ride in New York), and searched for some cheap Broadway tickets. Avenue Q didn’t have any, and we had no chance of getting Spring Awakening tickets so we opted for the 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee which Pasquale had already saw but loved. Loved it so much that he had purchased the soundtrack and knew nearly every song by heart.

“It looks ok.” I said. The great Gershwin Theatre which houses ‘Wicked’ had several decorations and signs that made the adjacent Spelling Bee look pale in comparison. But the idea of being on-stage was quite enticing. Audience interaction with the cast was a great selling point. Yes. I had to do it. We snatched front row rush tickets for a mere twenty five dollars. Even if the show was atrocious, I would have saved a lot of money, plus you can’t beat front row seats.

We walked around Midtown a little more. We stopped in a Starbucks and sat there for awhile. I didn’t order anything, I just glared outside the front window, watching the pedestrians move, even waving to a few. Pasquale and his girl smooched and canoodled. I didn’t pay much attention to their romantics; I was too intent on getting onto that stage. My oddly unique name, Blayze. Yes, of course, what crazy soul has such a name like that? Yes, it’s full-proof. I got the identification to prove it.

We headed back to the Circle in the Square theatre where Spelling Bee was housed. I was much more excited now although we had so much time to kill. We sat in the lobby, Pasquale kept on smooching and cuddling his girl. I kept rambling on about how amazing it would be if by chance, I was selected to be apart of the show. We had a bit of insider information too. The crew assigned to pick out potential audience spellers had made sure that anybody with any acting experience or talent would not be chosen. I had loads of acting experience in high school. West Side Story, Kiss Me Kate, etc. But no, I’d be calm and cool, let my name do the work here. We finally entered the main lobby, and I rushed one of the people who were taking information on potential spellers. Just basic personal information, name, age, school, town, etc.

I was directed to another fellow behind a desk where a line of other kids and people stood. I could hear one girl babbling about how amazing she was, improv and acting troupe, etc. etc. She sealed her fate. The girl in front of me was from Columbia, she didn’t seem very confident in her spelling abilities. Ha, I’ll show the Ivy League what middle class education can do. After she left, it was my turn. This staff member was more intent on knowing my capabilities and interests. ‘Could I spell?’ Of course, I aced every vocabulary test in school. ‘Any acting experience in the past?’ No, I’m just a regular kid from the Jersey suburbs. ‘Is Blayze really your name?’ You bet, look at my driver’s license, college I.D., and this coupon with my name on it. ‘What are your favorite shows?’ Les Mis, West Side, oh, Spamalot. Loved that one. He thanked me. Pasquale, the girl, and I proceeded to our seats. Wow, what a theatre.

Circle in the Square Theatre is unique in so many ways. It has a signature horse-shoe shaped design. Broadway’s only thrust theatre, the stage itself occupies the inside of the U with audience seating on all three sides. Along with that, the entire theatre was dressed up to look like a high school auditorium/gymnasium. The fictional sports team of the school, the Putnam Piranha, had its logo emblazoned on banners and even on my cushioned wooden bench seat. This was simply amazing. The stage was there, right in my front of me. The microphone stood there, yes! I’d be spelling right there! A negative aspect of this was getting the occasional blast of saliva from a cast member but so what? It was too cool to be true.
Five minutes before showtime I retreated to the main lobby once again to hear the spellers who would participate in tonight’s show. I cringed, I felt so nervous. They’d never pick me. The main staff member called the first name. Not me. The second name. Nope. The third name. Well, Blayze, better luck next time. The fourth name called… was me! By some sheer fate, God, Jesus, Moses, or something in the heavens wanted me to be on-stage spelling tonight!

I was guided into the tech booth where all the technological fun (lights, audio) stuff is housed. The guy who announced my name gave me and the other three participants the lowdown. As I figured, he made sure nobody who enjoyed acting or improvising would get on that stage. This show was to be run smoothly, and worked better if we just spelled and sat right back down. This kind of went against my strategy, as I had planned to spell ‘Cat’ to get laughs in case I couldn’t spell a word. Ah well. Still, we were an odd bunch. There was me, the scruffy haired kid I am, two girls about my age, and a middle aged mustached dude who was just as surprised to find himself here as we all did. Jennifer Simard, who played as the Bee’s main moderator also came in and assigned directions on how to enter the stage. Being front row, I had to walk around the long horse-shoe shaped aisle and then proceed onstage. It seemed odd but who cares! I was going to be on Broadway!

I was given a pin-on badge that I still treasure today. It reads the show’s name, along with the word ‘Finalist’. I brandished it to Pasquale who was shocked and amazed that I was going to be onstage tonight. We discussed the proceedings, and the show began, and oh, the music flowed. I knew a good lot of it thanks to Pasquale. The cast ran onstage, cute, silly, hilarious actors they were. They sang their opening.

“At the 25th Annual, Putnam County Spelling Bee, my parents keep on telling me. That just being here is winning, but I know it really isn’t so. But it’s a very nice, very nice, very, very, very nice, very nice beginning!”

They concluded, and I swelled with nervousness and excitement. We were all called on stage and took our seats among the cast. And oh, look who comes trotting down the aisle.

There was Mo, bespectacled as usual, wearing a respectable suit, and carrying a flagpole with Old Glory attached. He was ‘Vice Principal Panch.’ second moderator of the Bee and it was time to sing the National Anthem, or well, maybe not. Spellers have a hard time with that.

The show continued, I was still so thrilled to be there, right there. All eyes focused on this tiny stage, huddled next to a few actors. Maurice Murphy, the actor who played the stereotypical boy scout, Chip Tolentino had silently let out a smelly, well, we’ll just say he had some flatulence. The actress playing Marcy Park, the stereotypical over achieving Asian turned grimly and asked him “Was that you?” He smiled. It was all too real to be true.

The show kept on at breakneck speed, whirling around. ‘Life is Pandemonium!’ they sang. I tried to keep an eye on Mo, seated neatly behind his desk. A great musical blur of fun. Ok, it’s time to spell.

Everyone went up during their turn. It came to my turn. Mo and Jennifer quipped. Yes, I had just given them easy comedic material. My name, Blayze. Let the hippie and pot jokes flow like water. Not even a challenge for them. The audience chuckled. First word, ‘Mexicans’. Odd choice but easy enough for me. Definition please? Mo snapped back with an amusing bit. Can I have that in a sentence, yet again Mo responded. Mexicans were anybody of Latino descent, although he himself did it more justice than that quick description. I approached the microphone and gladly spelled. Correct. I sat happily back down next to Chip.

The other participant spellers began to fall. I knew it, I was the gem of this pack, and I’d get the super special song with Mitch Mahoney, the big black baritone, the Bee’s comfort counselor who sent off every losing speller with a hug and a juice box, of course, all in song.

My turn again, Mo and Jen had no problem throwing the jokes at me. “Before the Bee, Blayze was last seen outside with Shaggy, Scooby, and Velma.” Doing what? Smoking doobies and rebelling against the establishment for all I cared. Let’s spell. “Ewes”. Tricky, I knew what a ewe was, a baby lamb. I remember it because my sister had a beanie baby with the name ‘Ewey.’ I thought it over, yes. I shrugged. I got it. Correct, let’s move on.

By now, Chip was unhappily eliminated, as were the other participant spellers. The main cast still sat happily amongst me, singing every so often. Lamenting the woes of a kid in a spelling bee. Okay, last shot. Mo had labeled me ‘Shaggy’ by now when referring to me. Well, I was going to go down this time as I was the last audience participant left but Mo and Jen figured they could milk this. “Caterjunes”. What? “It’s spelled like, how it sounds.” Okay then. This word was completely made up, it doesn’t exist in any dictionary and is determined by the cast if it’s right or wrong. There’s no correct spelling for it. Ca…ter..junes. Correct? Everyone on stage looked horrified. How did this occur? The audience laughed, I shrugged, smiled, and sat back down. Okay, something’s wrong. “Blayze O’Brien please go back to the microphone.” Ah, now you guys want to kick me off. Be my guest.

The word given, as spoken by Mo, was ridiculously long and of course, not real. Can I have a definition? ‘There is no definition!’ Bellowed Mo. Jen interjected and actually came up with one, quite well too. Okay, may I have it in a sentence? “No.” Mo snapped. Alright, you guys had your fun I thought. “Z,” I spoke barely into the microphone. “IT BEGINS WITH AN X! Wrong!” bellowed Mo yet again, with no chance of finishing the crazy word. I had lost, but obviously I had to.

Mitch Mahoney came over, saddened. I handed him the place card that hung from my neck. Old number 4. He put his hand over my shoulder and began his song, “Prayer of the Comfort Counselor.” I felt at ease. For once, right now, in this little theatre on Broadway, it truly felt like ‘just being here was winning.’ Broadway had blessed me. I had done the impossible. The big and proud but sweet black Mitch, played by James Iglehart (who also shared a dressing room with Mo) sang. “You’re the best looking dude we’ve ever had.” The spotlights shone on both of us. He handed me the juice box, apple juice. Yum. And I was sent on my way. The cast kept on, ‘Goodbye, Goodbye.’ So sweet but stupidly I had went around the long horse shoe aisle again rather than just sitting back down in my front row seat. However, that little theatre erupted in applause. The spotlight still followed me. I felt alive, although kind of silly for walking the wrong way, still the whole cast paraded after me until I realized I had made my error. I managed to get back to my seat while the cast finished. The grand sound of applause and music. Once in a lifetime experience it was.

The show continued on it’s usual pace, just as comedic and charming. I finally could enjoy it from my seat now. Mo was just as comical as ever, so was Jen, so was everyone. Yet, all things come to an end. And before I knew it, this quirky and funny musical was over. Mo and company gracefully took a bow. Standing ovations all around. Afterwards murmurs behind me could be heard. “Oh, he is? He’s here!” What? Huh, who’s here?

“Bill Clinton is here!” grinned Pasquale. How? I? No! This is crazy. Bill Clinton is in the audience! With Chelsea! And Hillary’s mother?! I had just, sort of, performed on Broadway for a former president and his family.

But there he was, all smiles and good cheer. He sat in one of the upper levels but proceeded on down to the stage. I stuck out my hand, along with the throngs of others. He gladly shook it. I shook Bill Clinton’s hand and performed on Broadway in the same night. Bill retreated to the backstage while Pasquale, his girl, and I left the theatre. I was still jumping with excitement. People from the audience brushed by, “Hey you did great!” I explained to a few that I wasn’t actually in the cast, but chosen to just participate. Didn’t matter to me, I did something that only a select number of people ever got to do. I loved it.

We waited around outside, security was scattered about as were crowds of people. 45 minutes later, Bill and his entourage exited the theatre. Shouts and applause of good cheer could be heard. “We miss you!” “I love you Bill!” Truly a great man. We tried to snap a picture but we just got blurry photos. The Clintons and company left, and it was time for me to call this night quits too. We walked back to Penn Station, me yelling happily in Times Square, just as giddy as ever. I text messaged and called everyone I knew. I met Bill Clinton and got on Broadway, and was insulted by Mo Rocca. By all means, if you get the chance to see “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee,” then do it.

And so, I ended up here later. I had found Mo’s blog after looking up info on Spelling Bee. So I just started writing responses, and well, that’s how it goes. I thank Mo for being one of my role models. He always delighted me on the Daily Show and his bits on “I love the 80’s”. That and I love the blog community he’s managed to create here on NewsBloggers in less than a year. I’m glad to contribute and add insight and opinion. Thank you Mo Rocca, and thank you to everyone else here on the blog. You’ve made my birthday a little more happy, as well as this crazy thing called life.

And to answer the question, have I ever really inhaled marijuana? If I ever plan to have a career in politics or a snooty career as an NYU history professor, well, we’ll just have to leave that up to you, the reader to decide.

Your friend, Blayze “Shaggy” O’Brien from the Bee

Blayze at 5:35PM on Aug 17th 2007

11.

shaggy, that was an amazing story. very cool that you met mo ! I should be so lucky. Maybe I should move to New York. Damn that snow!

marsha beckerman at 6:27PM on Aug 17th 2007

12. Mo you are losing it! This was written for Shaggy. An audience of one could mean you're done-blogging. It's not the easiest thing to do. You've got to be a little crazy to share your life and expect a response from a stranger. I'm glad you and Shaggy connected on this one. Never ever encourage your friends to admit they are crazy. In a post 9-11 world you don't know who's spying on your thoughts. I am responsible for the things I do. I love America.

Cecil Jones at 7:12PM on Aug 17th 2007

13. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLAYZE...hope its a great one with many many more to come....

Lizzie at 8:33PM on Aug 17th 2007

14. Mo, you're so full of it. I don't believe you really go to therapy. The post was entertaining, though.

Blayze: Thanks so much for sharing. One of my favorite Broadway productions is The Lion King. I think one of the songs is so appropriate for this evening.

Can you feel the love tonight...

Once again, Happy Birthday.

giftedgirl at 8:34PM on Aug 17th 2007

15. Way to many "blanks"! lol

But seriously, if your friends are cool with it...why not? You and your friends would both benefit. Well actually, it would be a Tri-Party Benefit.

Party A(Mo Rocca)- You would benefit from the profits you would make on spreading the counsel of Dr. Saguaro.

Party B(your friends)-Their similar problems would get treated.

Party C(Dr. Saguaro)-He will still benefit from this, because he will still get paid.

What is there to lose!? Mo, you would just be doing the service of goodwill. ;-)

Shaggy, you performed on Broadway, met Bill Clinton, and met Mo Rocca in the same night!? DAMN! Ok, you not only just own, you pretty much own life. Very cool! Hope your birthday was fabulous!

Game Theory for Applied Economics Nerd at 11:44PM on Aug 17th 2007