The Need to Straighten a Picture - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

The Need to Straighten a Picture - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

I sat in that room, having breakfast with a group of friends, and looked at the pictures on the wall. It was not a juried gallery but the artwork, though not museum quality, was good enough. But I had difficulty. Why? Because the pictures were crooked. And with that jagged neurosis burning at my core, I needed to straighten them.

The conversation was vibrant and interesting (it always is), but until I fixed the pictures, I was distracted. I knew that as soon as I stood to satisfy my need, my mates would interrupt their conversations. --- At it again, Doc?” --- Yup. Can’t help it.

So why this need to straighten crooked pictures? I’m not sure, but it has to come from my father’s side of the family, a predictable group who always arrived much too early for gatherings and whose homes were spotless. We called my meticulous aunts the ‘cleans.’ Perhaps my father’s family simply felt the need to have what once was chaos in new beginnings in a new world now be ordered. I’m not sure. But that’s the culture that must have shaped my upbringing.

GET THE LATEST BREAKING NEWS HERE -- SIGN UP FOR GOLOCAL FREE DAILY EBLAST

I like order. It was not just a frame here or there in that room in that restaurant that was awry. It was all of them. How disruptive. Now my mind was beginning to get in my way.

If the pictures were disordered, was the restaurant’s kitchen? On which side were they cooking my eggs? Did it matter? Should I go back there to check? Or should I just step outside to call a counselor? I took the simple route. I got up to straighten the pictures.

As I did so, I thought about that two-inch level my father had in his toolbox. Perfect for the top of a frame. Should I have taken it? No, No. The boys surely would have thought I was nuts. “That’s good, Ed. Perfect. They’re all balanced. Feel better?”

My order came. I looked at the sandwich. Everything there; toasted English muffin, egg on the bottom, cheese in the middle, and a slice of tomato on top. And the plate. Fries to the right. Strawberries to the left in their little dish. Good. Well arranged. Very proficient. I imagine the kitchen and picture-hanging staff were different entities.

Oh my god! Where is this going? They shaped my sandwich and my plate. I shaped their environment. My goodness. I’m not that bad, am I? I just like order. Symmetry equals beauty. That’s it. I like beauty.

I drifted back down to earth and rejoined the conversation. I should never have left. But to my surprise, my mates chimed in. “Thanks for doing that, Ed. They were bothering me too.”

Harmony prevailed. The day started well. Hopefully, some therapist will have time for me later this morning.

But it’s nearly impossible to find a caregiver these days, especially at the last minute. Besides, the couch may be on the wrong side of the room.