The Oppenheimer Report 7/27/15

Sometimes, when I’m sitting down to write this week’s report, which I have been doing now for well over 20 years, I look through my files to see what I wrote a year ago at this time. I did so today and was reminded that my dear friend, Frank Riccio passed on just about this time last year. Frank was a gifted artist, as well as a successful illustrator for magazines and children’s books. Though we did not communicate often, we wrote letters to each other, usually once or twice a year, and Frank’s letters to me were always imbued with beautiful pencil sketches and other examples of his exquisite art work. By the way, who writes letters anymore!? One of my prized possessions, along with my flying squirrel pelt-upholstered easy chair (just kidding), is a very limited edition book of Frank’s artwork, along with some very personal copy about the challenges he was facing at the time he published the book. Thinking about that unique and rare book had me wondering about what we leave behind when we die. With Frank, it was the comforting notion that the sum and total of a person’s life, and one’s impact on the world, might be recognized and appreciated for generations to come. Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, and Frank is still here with me.

I am in the middle of reading some of the writings of a man named Moshe Feldenkrais, whose articles discuss at great length the long term harm we do to our bodies because of improper alignment, bad posture, and bad habits, etc. His theories are now more and more accepted by physiotherapists and healers of all sorts, because his ideas and exercises teach us how we can be more mindful of our bodies, how we can unlearn some of our “bad” behaviors, and how we can relieve chronic pain ourselves. My wife, Shauna suffers from severe chronic pain and, only after decades of her suffering have we stumbled upon several hopeful therapies which don’t involve drugs and a laundry list of ineffective specialists. Without going into the mind body duality discussion and the resounding failure of Western medicine to heal the many puzzling autoimmune illnesses that plague our culture, I will say that I have done a lot of reading on the subject, and this guy makes a lot of sense. The reason I mention him is because in his writings, he gently admonishes his students for their ignorance of the men and women who are long gone, and upon whom he based his theories. Sadly, many of the brilliant minds among us are doomed to obscurity after they go. I did not know of Moshe Feldenkrais until a massage therapist Shauna has been seeing recommended we read about his work, and this man is far more worthy of note than guys like Dr. Oz or Dr. Phil.

I do not think I am one of those brilliant minds, but I do think each of us has a calling, some way we can make our mark to improve the world. Maybe my small contribution will be to support musical artists I deem worthy of attention. Maybe I will even write a song that another artist will sing, and perhaps that song will be enjoyable, meaningful, or helpful to others. Music is my therapy and I choose to dream that my love may benefit others. As idealistic and perhaps naïve as this may seem, I really do believe we are here to help one another and that there is some mysterious synchronicity or serendipity to how this happens. I’ve been told that this is the purpose of religion, but I have yet to find any solace in organized religion. Somehow the notion of altruism has become more and more obscured by the cult of personality and by often useless information that is both corrosive and self-perpetuating. If you doubt this, just list the number of stories you’ve heard this week about unsung heroes. Is Kanye West a hero? No, but in the past week I have heard more about that guy than about the firefighters who are battling the western wildfires.

Frank Riccio is one of my heroes. He improved my life and many others with his wonderful art, his gentle kindness, and his friendship. Frank is a reminder of the kind of person I want to be. Not perfect, but honest, and good. That it is about the anniversary of his passing is less meaningful to me than that I am fortunate enough to have him to remember, whenever I need him. Thanks Frank, wherever you are.

-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2015 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED-