Judge Ginger Lerner-Wren Broward Mental Health Court

February 17, 2011

Judge Ginger Lerner-Wren
Broward Mental Health Court
600 South Andrews Avenue
Ft. Lauderdale, FL 33301

RE: “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” or “Support Mental Health or I’ll Kill You” – Some comments on your op-ed on Public Health Cuts

Judge Lerner-Wren,

You say

“One out of every four adults in the United States
suffers from some sort of mental health illness.”

Then you say

“A majority of those with mental illness also
suffer[s] from substance abuse addictions.”

Would it be a sign of my mental health if I were to carry your thoughts to their Logical conclusion?

There are 90 Judges in Broward County.

While some of their shenanigans and peccadilloes would suggest either dementia, a perpetual teen age wild ass wild oat sowing, de minimis thievery, or just some old fashioned ethically challenged activities, none of these falls under the category of mental illness as you define it. Using your math 22 Judges are a full bubble off plumb. Further, at least 12 of these are life members of the Peruvian Powder Marching Society or they subscribe to the dictum “there is no such thing as a large whisky”.

Maybe we could have an afternoon of competency hearings with the Judges judging themselves. That would be a new chapter in the proud and glorious history of the Broward Judiciary.

Your plea for more money or we will all perish is the perpetual mantra of modern American Liberalism. Every morning these very bright people get up and say today is the day that I will catch the horizon. I must tell you absolutely, positively that you will never get there. Step 2 in this process is to find someone to blame. Lately it’s been a President or a Governor whose names rhyme with Bush. It is painfully self evident that they have written your name down in their books and then drew a line through it.

Normally your lachrymose wailing- how could wailing be otherwise? – would get you some consideration in my weekly contest to find the

HORSE’S ASS OF THE WEEK
[JUDICIAL SECTION]

But wait. There’s more.

I found a letter that I wrote to you on September 1, 2001.

You made Page 1 of the Miami Herald in the matter of Darren Cooper. He had been living in his mother’s yard for 5 years. For this you blamed, certainly not him, certainly not his mother, but the poor “flack catching” weenies who run the hatch. NB that I did not say “boobies” who run the hatch.

As an aside, I rather think Mr. Cooper would be an improvement of anybody running a government facility. He went “green” before it became popular. He left no carbon footprint. He became the ultimate recycler what with 5 years of ca-ca to do something with. Organic fertilizer for organic vegetables. A win/win. No drowning polar bears.

Anyway, it’s 10 years later and you’re still at it.

I am reminded of the man in the rubber room, the room with the door with no handle on the inside, for 35 years. All he ever does is clap his hands. Finally a shrink is able to get through to him. “Why are you doing it for 35 years?” he is asked. “If I stop clapping poison snakes will fall from the sky and bite us.” The questioner looks out the window and tells him that there are no poison snakes to be seen. “See. That’s why I have to keep clapping.”

Anyway, it’s 10 years later and you’re still at it.

Somewhere the tune “Still Crazy After All These Years” is playing and I just can’t get it out of my head.

The inconvenient truth is that the state is running out of money. Unlike the Feds we can’t print it. We don’t have an Uncle Wong who will send us tons of Benjamins every Thursday afternoon. To say otherwise would be, in the words of Gary Larson, noted artist and pundit, “Just plain nuts”.




Kevin Smith