Change Is Permanent

It Continues To This Day

Change Is Permanent

July 4, 2023

(Rewritten March 27, 2026)

Not so long ago, the creators of Bic, Cross, and Mont Blanc pens, as well as a plethora of other Companies believed that they had a “widget” that would last forever.

Ditto the folks who created the saddle, the typewriter, and blacksmith shops; maybe even builders of huge libraries to be filled with hard- and soft-back books. Most have gone the way of the do-do bird, or, at least have shrunk in their importance and presence. Hmmmm, maybe coming soon to a university of your choice, thanks to AI.

That got me to thinking about the non-tangible things; things that involved me.

I was certain that I would always be involved in the acting business. I loved being the center of attention (OK, well, maybe that has not changed too much 🙂.).

I loved having all the attention drawn to me. Hence, my easy grasp of the thespian genre.

I matriculated in a high school that had a whole curriculum dedicated to the Performing Arts. I was “home.” I was on stage.

It was the 60s, so I was not a lead character, but I did have some roles that had characters with spoken lines (that I still remember) and attention; It was wonderful. I had my career.

But then, my Broadway and Hollywood trained leaders of Performing Arts schooled me on my chances of replacing Paul Robeson, and Sidney Poitier, and sadly, I believed them.

So, I altered my ambitions and pursued the medical field. Change.

My mother was the neighborhood nurturer of broken birds’ wings and scratched and scarred children. I wanted to be like her; a nurturer who can heal living beings.

So, in my junior of high school, I pushed to get into medial school. I made it. I became a doctor. I was all set to become an ear, nose, and throat surgeon, when my Uncle Sam summoned me to enter active duty. Change.

I chose the U.S. Navy, thinking that guys in those funny white caps would not be near any dangerous action in Vietnam. I did not know, until I had to go on active duty, that, I would be stationed with the fighting Marines. Yikes! Change.

Those guys are some of the fiercest fighters our country trained. I was stationed in Japan for a 2-year stint. Out of 3 doctors on our base, 2 of us pulled the long straw, while the 3^rd doctor was sent to Nam Phong, Thailand (fighting and working one short step from the killings in Vietnam). Remember, the President that “no U.S. military are now stationed in Vietnam.” They were one foot away, stationed in Thailand, where, after that one step, they could, and did fight in Vietnam. Whirlwind changes.

I was able to travel in the Far East, after one month in Japan, and, then, a MAJOR Blockbuster change occurred; At 7:30AM, Thanksgiving, November 23, 1972, my mother called me long distance on my off-the-base landline phone and said only two words: “Marjorie died.” Click.

Marjorie was my oldest sister (13 months my elder). I immediately called my mom back (despite the high cost of long-distance calls in those days), and she just repeated those two words and hung up again. Change.

What I did not know was that my mom was scrying so hard that she could not speak. [I am crying now and need to pause typing this].

Within 24 hours I had emergency leave papers, and a military flight landing in New York City, in a morgue to identify my older sister’s body. Talk about change.

After 18 months in Japan, the U.S. Navy brass informed me that they did not have 2-year billets, and I could choose to stay for a total of 36 months or leave after my 18^th month. There were a swift change and a wind that represented my very rapid withdrawal back to the States, to finish my residency in Ear, Nose and Throat surgery. Major change.

Change, change, change…

Upon completion of my ENT residency, I was offered a position on the academic staff of the ENT Department at the University of Michigan. This would be a clear shot to full professorship at this great University.

However, a friend of mine, who was one year ahead of me, was offered the Chairmanship of an ENT Department in Los Angeles, associated with UCLA, and the Charles Drew Postgraduate Medical School. Change.

After 2 years, it was clear that my friend was not capable of leadership and I returned to the state of Michigan, but not to the University; the previously offered position was taken by a former ENT residency mate of mine.

I took a position at Henry Ford Hospital, the hospital of my birth.

More changes ahead.