When Are You Enough For Love?

February 14, 2013July 4, 2013 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

It’s Valentine’s Day! A day for expressions of love and romance. A reminder to couples everywhere to tell their partners they are special. Because clearly it’s only important one day a year. It’s not a fundamental need in relationships.

But Valentine’s Day is also a time when the spotlight shines on what is missing in the life of a single. Oh, some will disregard it, recognizing it as a silly holiday. Others will attempt to remain busy, desperately trying not to notice what happens around them so as not to be reminded of their lack. And then some will simply fall into a depressed state crying out to the universe at the unfairness of it all.

Ironically, for a single person it’s just another day. Another day for someone to tell them what they are doing wrong, what they can improve or change that will miraculously bring them the love they desire. To say it’s a frustrating diatribe would be to minimize the despicable message hidden beneath a sheath of care and concern.

I wonder if people even think before they speak. Do these do-gooders and would-be relationship psychics pause to remember a single is a person with feelings and a history? Do they even consider the damaging message they are perpetuating?

It starts when you’re young, during your first crush when you’re reminded you’re too young to love. Ok, there’s a lot of truth to that. It’s certainly not wrong, and yet there are probably better ways to reign in the hormones and angst of youth. Then it becomes statements about you’re just too focused on school, or partying depending on your bend. Then you don’t really know what you’re looking for, followed by you’re too picky. As the years pass it becomes more personal. You’re too fat; you’re too thin. Your acne is a deterrent; your hair isn’t right. You’re not dressing feminine enough, or you dress too revealing. You’re too strong and intimidating, or you’re too shy and withdrawn. You don’t go out enough; you’re going out to the wrong places. You’re not letting people know you; you’re sharing too much too soon. You’re not really trying; you’re trying too hard and should just let it happen naturally. Finally, when you’re just so tired of being told all the reason why you are incapable of attracting love, it’s because you’re sending out bad energy and repelling people.

My question is: When did love become something you had to earn through such perfection? Isn’t love supposed to be the precious unmerited gift? The validation that who you are – right now – is special.

How many people have found love when they have acne, are overweight, have a successful job, or dress inappropriately? How many found love when they weren’t looking, or found it when they did? How many found love when they were at their lowest point and ready for depression meds?

There is no evidence to prove any of the advice given will result in the wind of love blowing into your life. There is a lot of compelling evidence to show demeaning people results in a lot of unnecessary pain and heartache.

Life isn’t fair. There isn’t a justifiable reason why people who long for a relationship are still alone. It’s just a fact of life, another mystery in an individual’s universe. Shaming singles won’t change the situation, but it will change the circumstance by making it unbearable.

So for Valentine’s Day I’d like to give the single people out there a gift of truth. You are more than worthy of love… right now, as you are. You have great value as a person on a challenging journey with an ever changing path. You are enough. You are deserving, and you always will be.

The Joy Of Juggling: Keeping Your Burdens In The Air

February 2, 2013July 4, 2013 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

I like to attend local festivals.

Most of the time they are named after an idea or emblem common and representative of the area, such as The Dogwood Festival or The Yellow Daisy Festival. Sometimes they just echo the theme: The Jazz Festival or The Blues Festival. Generally they are centered around arts, crafts and music (with a sprinkling of local cuisine thrown into the mix). But occasionally there can be found an aberrant festival, one that steps outside the norm and doesn’t simply host the traditional ideas, but embraces a reclusive, and often bizarre, interest with passion and enthusiasm. These are the festivals that provide the most fascinating glimpses into the human psyche and segmented sociology. They are also surprisingly fun!

Today I went to the Jugglers Festival.

There wasn’t much advertising surrounding the event. I wouldn’t have even known it was being sponsored if I hadn’t heard about it from a friend. He is a member of the Seed & Feed March Abominable Band. They are known for their surprise blitzes Atlanta throughout where they show up in crazy costumes to interrupt every day moments with their song and dance. They are a kind of marching band flash mob, bringing laughter to the mundane. The band would be opening at the Jugglers Festival at the Shriner’s Temple.

The whole idea is something out of the Twilight Zone. Imagine my surprise to find hundreds of people packing the place. I could barely find a parking spot! I couldn’t believe so many people were looking to find interesting ways to keep their balls in the air.

It turns out the festival celebrates the art of juggling. They offer performances by professionals and competitions for amateurs. They offer mini-workshops to teach the basics and more advanced for those who want to improve their skills to perhaps catch items on their back and head while balancing on a ball. Of course, there are tables set up from supply vendors offering balls, pins, swords, specialty gloves and even costumes for jugglers. It’s quite a structured and enthusiastic event.

As I moved around the room, I noted the crowd was not made up of the strange and unusual. These were everyday people, in everyday clothes, enjoying an unusual hobby to the point of obsession. What’s more? They were happy. They weren’t self-conscious or embarrassed; they were just enjoying the moment. I liked them immediately.

This was certainly a trip through the looking-glass into a realm some would call freaky (you know, the people who lack the balls to live a little and just laugh). This was a place where people broke with expectations, propriety and “common interests to passionately pursue what they love. And if you chose to arch a brow or cast a frown, you might just get pulled into the show as a means to break through those walls! After all, it’s hard to judge when you’re juggling.

Maybe there’s a lesson here. If we all took the time to pursue something out of the ordinary and embraced it with such fervor, our burdens wouldn’t feel so heavy with so much joy in the air.

LEED The Way To Sustainability

January 23, 2013January 16, 2014 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

Sustainability is by far the most common and on-going trend in Facilities Management.

Oh, how we love such buzz words!

Simply put, “sustainability” is the goal of meeting our current needs without compromising the abilities of future generations to meet their own needs. It’s all about environmental science in the workplace: energy, waste and water management against environmental impact. To stand out in the industry, a facilities manager must be committed to environmental stewardship and incorporating sustainable practices into day-to-day operations through programs such as recycling, energy efficiency measures, green landscaping, custodial services, clean energy and transportation to name a few.

Most Facilities Management teams have always focused on this because let’s face it, the financial gains as well as the health and safety benefits of pursuing green space cannot be denied. Over the last few years, it’s become mainstream. When something becomes mainstream, it results in yet another certification to acquire for credibility and proof that you know how to do your job.

LEED is an internationally recognized green building program. Participation in the voluntary LEED process demonstrates leadership, innovation, environmental stewardship and social responsibility.

What came first The FacMan or the LEED?

There had to be people already implementing measurable programs for the consensus-based program to become market-driven. Then the market demands a third-party verification standard for an “unbiased” evaluation, and BAM! Facilities Managers have a necessity for more letters connected to their names.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not minimizing the importance of LEED programs or criticizing the certification credentials. Such certifications have given much needed attention and credibility to a career field often under-valued, if even recognized. But do they really confirm or deny the knowledge, efforts or initiatives currently in place for many Facilities Managers? Not always.

The project certifications however, provide benefits beyond personal career goals and objectives in the form of tax credits, zoning allowances and other government initiatives. Project certifications and professional credentials go hand-in-hand. This being the case, those letters have become a symbol of the trend…

Facilities Managers LEED the way to sustainability.

For more information on obtaining LEED certifications and credentials: http://new.usgbc.org/leed

What The Heck Is Facilities Management?

January 16, 2013June 21, 2014 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

I remember when I first got into Facilities Management.

Well, I’d been in the field for years, but they called it “support services.” It wasn’t until I was actually managing the support staff and engineers that I found myself under the official umbrella. It didn’t bring much prestige. Most people seemed to think the facilities managers were the people in charge of Christmas decorations. Ironically, that was true.

It was the fall when I took on the position, and ultimately the task of refreshing the ancient decorations on a shoe string budget. I found myself in a large conference room stripping all of the wreaths down to the twisted wood vines and creating the new look. For several days, I clothed styrofoam balls, created bows and painted bells…and stood amazed that I was making such a fine salary off such a job.

That was before the drama started. It was before the awakening.

People still don’t immediately understand the role of Facilities Management. Wikipedia describes it as: an interdisciplinary field devoted to the coordination of space, infrastructure, people and organisation, often associated with business services functions, such as offices, arenas, schools, convention centers, shopping complexes, hospitals, hotels, etc. as well as non-core functions and activities related to the business.

*Crickets Chirping*

What does that mean?

To put it in more simple terms, Facilities Management is the field dedicated to creating and ensuring a functional environment, which includes people, place, process and technology.

I usually still get blank stares at this explanation, to which I quickly respond. “When you have a complaint and don’t know who to call, whether it be a clogged toilet, a leaky Liebert, a blown circuit, your phone is down or the vending machine doesn’t stock Nutty Bars, Facilities Management is the group you need to call.

That usually satisfies the basic question, but it doesn’t really express the insanity of the job. Anyone in the field can toss around terms like sustainability, risk management and efficiency control, and then explain construction projects, infrastructure design, support services and operating budgets are often their core functions, but the most time-consuming task for a facilities manager is simply dealing with people.

Facilities Managers are either the most grumpy and rude people you’ll ever meet, or they are the ones most likely to be laughing and dancing through the cubicle maze. Either way, they are rarely bored because there is no such thing as mundane in this job. If you are one who feels a sense of accomplishment at the end of the day when you see you’ve marked through the tasks on your checklist, this would not be the job for you.

Good intentions are paved with checklists.

A facilities manager will start the day off with 10-20 priority tasks that will become secondary to the black light bulb over reception or the foul smell on the executive floor…or the employee who’s colostomy bag burst in front of the mail room. We are jugglers of the unexpected, the disgusting, the novel and the senseless.

And for the most part, I love my job.

Detours And Shared Journeys

January 15, 2013January 14, 2014 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

I took a detour.

It wasn’t on the original plan. I don’t always follow the plan. Plans are meant to be guides, not limits. My first trip overseas taught me the best plans open doors to new experiences and exciting memories. They should never restrict you to checklists and guidebooks. So when the GPS said the quickest route home would be the highway, I ignored it and turned toward the more scenic route. The road less traveled…metaphorically speaking, of course.

It’s called the Cape Hatteras National Seashore. It is the scenic road (NC 12) that connects the barrier islands from Bodie Island to Ocracoke Island over about a 70 miles stretch. It’s the Great Ocean Road of Southeastern America. It by no means matches the greatness of the Australian wonder, but every country possesses its own magic. Sometimes Americans overlook and often take for granted the beauty of our land.

Cape Hatteras is a combination of natural and cultural resources, and during peak season a cornucopia of recreational activities. Fishing and surfing along this coast is considered the best along the east coast region. Combined with off-road vehicle adventures, kite boarding, sailing, jet-skiing, swimming, and the plethora of water activities available, this area is a much sought after vacation spot.

It’s winter now. The beaches are empty. The local fishermen can be found along the outer banks and in the marshes, but for the most part it’s miles and miles of unobstructed peace.

I stopped at one of the beach access points for a break. It was a perfect place to take a picture of the showers and changing rooms available for beach dwellers. I sent it off to my French friend who had mocked American modesty and introduced me to changing clothes on the beach.

“Now this is where you change into a suit!” I tagged the photo.

She reminded me that changing rooms are for sissies.

I chuckled. I do miss France.

The walk on the beach was cold, windy and beautiful. Storm clouds brewed in the distance and the sunbeams were bursting through the clouds as if creating a religious experience. How can you not take a moment to breathe it in? Let the beat of the waves adjust your internal rhythm? Find perspective in the very existence of an ocean so deep and wide?

It’s easy to lose yourself in the stress of life. Work-life balance is always an issue, but removing work from the equation doesn’t always equal life. Often, the unemployed are too stressed about the future to actually take time to live. How will I pay the bills? What if I lose my home? My car? The fear for the future takes over and they are either overcome with a paralyzing depression, an unfocused anxiety or an obsession for the job search. It’s one of those tragic points in life when excuses gain enough weight to appear as truths.

Sometimes looking out over the ocean reminds me that nothing is impossible.

I could walk on the beach for hours, but I should be on my way. Pea island is only a few miles up the road and I hear it has a wildlife refuge. Maybe I can drink my coffee with migrating fowls and seas turtles.

But wait! There’s a lighthouse.

I pull the car to the side of the road and climb on the roof of the car to get a good picture.

A man is standing nearby wearing waders and chewing tobacco as he patiently awaits the tug on his fishing line. He laughs at me.

“She’s perty, ain’t she?” Ah the extreme southern accent! I mock my own, but try to behave with those who have it worse.

I discovered his name was Roger, and he explained the Bodie Island Lighthouse is actually the thirst attempt to illuminate the dangerous stretch of coast between Cape Hatteras and Currituck Beach.

2013-01-08 10.46.53 — Bodie Island Lighthouse, North Carolina

“The keeper’s cottage has a visitor center,” he explained. “I don’t know if it’s open since this time of year we depend on volunteers to run most everything. You could try, M’am. It has a good amount of history if you’re into it.”

Sadly, it was closed. But there was a chatty groundskeeper who told me quite a bit about the structural issues with the lighthouse and the funding problems over the years that prevented proper historical preservation. He also shared some folklore regarding the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.” The treacherous currents, shoals and storms along this coast have provided a wealth of history relating to shipwrecks, lighthouses, heroes and ghosts. You can only really appreciate these stories as delivered by the locals.

By the time I had walked along the path of the wildlife refuge and taken advantage of the many photo opportunities along the way, I realized I’d better stay focused or I’d miss the ferries that would take me back to the mainland. There are two of them. The Ocracoke Ferry is only a 30 minute ride (though the wait at the start can take some time). The second ferry however is over 2 hours long.

After taking some pictures and tweeting with my friends, I grabbed my coffee from the car and curled up on the floor of the ferry beside a biker who was snuggled beneath his sleeping bag reading a book. He was traveling cross country. He’d been laid off and was heading back to his hometown in Arizona. There was every reason to panic, to focus on the down side, to say he may have the time but not the money to take the time to enjoy the view. He hadn’t. When life had dealt him the blow, he’d decided to sell his house and make the cross country trip home a life experience. He’d decided to let the future take care of itself. He’d planned for the future and it was stripped from him with the cut of a corporate budget. Perhaps it was time for a new outlook, a new adventure. He may never get the time to do this again.

“Besides,” he said. “Is it really that healthy to live in fear?”

I like him immediately.

My 10 hour drive home was entering its second day. I wasn’t going to worry. I could send out resumes from home, or from the road. I could stress over my situation in the confines of my town, or I could seek peace and direction in this detour.

“I’ll share a section of my sleeping bag if you share some of that coffee,” he offered.

I did more than that. For the next hour, I shared a journey.

Cape Henry Lighthouse or The Brig

January 12, 2013January 14, 2014 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

I stop for Lighthouses.

It’s an homage to my mother and a strangely appealing step in the mourning process. More importantly, it has shed some light into the dark recessess of a wandering soul, specifically revealing the metaphor “I am a lighthouse.”

There’s a certain lore surrounding Lighthouses: the remote tower of strength, lighting the way, directing boats through perilous waters, and guiding the lost through the storm. And then there’s the mythos of the lonely lighthouse keeper, cut off from the world, faithful to a greater cause than self. Through my lighthouse journeys these past few months, I have found myself relating to this image more than I would like, and yet less troubled by the notion with the passing of time. I can appreciate the ironies

My journey home from Baltimore sent me along the eastern coast, where many lighthouses remain as both historical monuments and functional forms of navigation.

Naturally, I stopped.

It’s not uncommon to find a lighthouse on a military base. As the lighthouse protects the seafaring traveler from dangers and hazards so they may find safe passage, the military guards that same harbor to prevent dangers from passing the borders. My stop at the Cape Henry Lighthouse brought me to the gates of the Fort Story Army base.

Now, I’ve been on military bases before so I was prepared for the usual protocols. Unfortunately I forgot the most important rule: Don’t do anything until they tell you.

They search your car at the gate. I was prepared and ready…and moved too soon. I opened my door while the soldier was still looking at my paperwork. He went for his gun.

What???

I froze, of course. I must have looked like a deer facing the headlights because he smiled, though he remained tense and alert.

“I moved too soon,” I said the obvious.

“You’ve done this before.” He speaks the obvious too. “Generally you’re not supposed to get out the car until I tell you. I need to ascertain if you’re a danger.”

I can understand that, but now I’m nervous. When I’m nervous I go for humor or sass. With a good-looking soldier, I go for both apparently.

“Did you want to search me?”

He stared at me blankly.

“I figured,” I instantly responded. “I’m generally not that lucky.”

He grinned.

“I’m here to see the lighthouse.” See, I am capable of regaining my composure.

“You’ve been on base before?” He asked.

“Not on this one,” I answered. “I’ve been on other bases so I understood the process – thought I’d get out of the car and move things along. Good to know my moves bring out the guns.”

He laughed. It was a real laugh from deep within that transformed the hardened features of this very disciplined soldier.

“I’m going to let you get out of the car,” he said, and instructed me to open all of the car doors, the hatch and the hood. I followed instructions well.

“You can close them,” he said from behind me. What? I only just finished!

“You already checked me out?”

“Oh, yes,” he grinned. “I followed your every move.”

Now I laughed. He was cute. What was I here for again?

He gave me directions to the lighthouse explaining I shouldn’t go beyond the flashing lights.

“If you pass them, you’ve gone too far and you’ll enter a restricted area,” he leaned toward me. “Then I will have to search you and put you in the brig.”

“You say the nicest things,” I teased, dramatically fluttering my eye lashes.

He grinned. “And you have made my day.”

Traffic was building up behind me, so I couldn’t stay. It was a sad moment for me. But I pushed forward and found the lighthouse. Only, there were two of them!

The original was manned by the historical society. It was made of aquia creek sandstone, the same bricks that make up the White House. A little history revealed the top of the lighthouse was blown off during a hurricane in the 1950s. It was rebuilt and in 1964 became a historical preservation landmark. I walked the spiral staircase to the top of the 90 foot structure and enjoyed the view. Specifically the shore and the new lighthouse across the way.

The new lighthouse is cast iron and wrought iron construction, and stands 157 feet tall. It is an active lighthouse, fully automated and not open for public tours. It does make for beautiful photos, especially from the adjacent memorial garden leading up to the beach.

The restrictions of the base is limiting for tourists – it’s not as if you can hang out on the beach and enjoy water sports – but this is an enjoyable short excursion in Virginia Beach. For lighthouse enthusiasts or history buffs, it’s a must see. For others, it’s a nice detour if you’re bored. For single women or gay men, it’s anticlimactic after the gate search.

As I left, I waved to the soldier.

“You didn’t pass the flashing lights,” he called out. “I’m impressed.”

“We could always pretend I did,” I said. “Your brig or mine?”

I may not be a lighthouse after all.

Baltimore: Where There’s Beauty In The Ugly

January 9, 2013July 4, 2013 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

Baltimore is one of the ugliest cities in America according to Travel & Leisure magazine.

What do they know? As it turns out…

It’s not just tourists or so-called experts making this judgment, but the residents as well.

I’m on my way to meet an online friend. This will be our first face-to-face meeting, although I feel like I’ve known her for years. I do wonder how she will unveil this ugly city. What will she have to say about the town she embraces?

It has been my experience as I’ve been on my quest this past year that people like to show off the best part of their homeland. They acknowledge the good, the bad and the ugly with a flip of the wrist as they move on to the good stuff. In an area that is scoring low in every area of significance, what will be the focus? What is the “good stuff”?

As I drove through the city, I have to agree the skyline, cleanliness and overall first impression of Baltimore isn’t anything to rave about. But I was meeting her near the waterfront. It’s hard to go wrong at a harbor, especially when there is an obvious effort to revitalize the district with a melding of history and modern influences.

The cobblestone streets and old-world architecture of Fell’s Point is balanced with hipster bars, trendy shops, local artisan galleries and upscale restaurants. But what you really want to know is that this area boasts the largest concentration of bars and pubs in the city. Well, that and the fact the area is rich with a varied ethnic population adding a much needed flavor to the business district that has a presence along the periphery. It would be the perfect place to film a network drama. Wait…It was the central location for Homicide: Life on the Streets in the 90s.

We didn’t spend much time touring the city. Instead, my focus was directed to important elements of life in Baltimore. One, Baltimore is made of neighborhoods, each with their own focus, feel and flavor, and two, it’s Small-timore. Everyone resident seems to have there own 6-degrees to Kevin Bacon going for them. This was important to learn since I was about to find out what makes Baltimore special…besides Michael Phelps…and the Ravens.

The neighborhoods of Baltimore may be be identified by architectural styles or economic standing, but they are mostly defined by the common interests and values of the residents. The people are exceedingly welcoming and friendly in Baltimore. They love to rave about each other, about their lives, their art, their interests, and yes, their loves. And they are radical Raven fans. The city is one big party after a game.

As I sat around tables, drinking coffee from handmade pottery in a room of professors, doctors, artists, journalists and accountants, all erudite hipsters enjoying life, or in a a hole-in-the-wall restaurant with local chefs and food critics, I understood the draw of the city. It is a beauty beyond monuments, museums and tourist sites. It is the heart of the city. The people.

I often tease my friend – a magazine editor who once featured their Baltimore Olympic Athlete with a couple of Blue Crabs on the cover photo – that she would one day be able to say she gave Michael Phelps crabs. I didn’t get crabs. I didn’t get to be on the cover of a magazine either. What I did get was a great welcome into the arms of a beautiful ugly city.

Perhaps Travel & Leisure should put down the polls and have a beer with the people. Then they’d find the beauty of Baltimore…and maybe get crabs.

House MD, Twenty Vicodin: Episode 8×01

October 3, 2011August 27, 2013 ~ gannebassett ~ Leave a comment

Tonight, Monday, October 3^rd marks the House MD season 8 premiere.
Twenty Vicodin
Written by Peter Blake; Directed by Greg Yaitanes

When last we saw Dr. Gregory House (Hugh Laurie), he was smiling in relief after plowing his car into the home of his ex-girlfriend, Dr. Lisa Cuddy (Lisa Edelstein). Although meant to be a metaphorical ending – representative of breaking the chains of expectations, change, propriety and connection – the controversial finale instead brought a dark and tragic ending to a lack-luster season full of missed opportunities, unbelievable stories and disintegrated characterizations.

The House team has been teasing the fans for years with a Greg House who was progressively uncomfortable with life and misery, and was seeking to change. Yet even through a mental breakdown, time in a mental institution, detox from vicodin, regaining his medical license, rebuilding his medical practice, entering into an overdue and long-awaited relationship (they spent all of season 6 focused on House pining for Cuddy), experiencing the subsequent break-up, going back on drugs and falling into a debauchery that took the viewers beyond all realm of belief, there was no exploration into the House character or his issues beyond a desire to connect and a need to trust. With so much build-up and promise, the viewers needed to learn more about House and experience a little more emotional substance to support the abundance of shocking twists. The persistent focus on other characters and insignificant plots that did nothing to get inside the heart and soul of this complex character, left viewers increasingly frustrated and angry. The extremes of season 7, in conjunction with the unmet hopes for deeper emotional insight that should have been brought to the surface in a romantic relationship, proved to create a brand of animosity almost palpable for many viewers. Critics and fans alike were vocal throughout the season regarding their ever-increasing dissatisfaction. The finale was a blow that left many viewers feeling they simply could not tolerate anymore teasing and stagnancy from a character that had now been reduced to an unsympathetic shell of the anti-hero they’d been rooting for so many years.

The Season 8 premiere, Twenty Vicodin, begins with House in front of the parole board. In the first minutes, the viewer is subjected to a series of explanations, excuses and justifications for his violent act that are a complete regurgitation of the many interviews from show creator David Shore over the summer. I’m not certain if they believed the words would be more acceptable coming from the mouth of Hugh Laurie or the character of House, but it certainly continued to downplay the magnitude of the violence, attempted to ignore the significance of the act as more than just inappropriate and careless, and minimized the greater emotional and psychological trauma such an act causes for both the victim and the one-time aggressor (as they make it a point to stress). Nevertheless, as a result of overcrowding, House has the opportunity to make parole if he can behave himself for 5 days.

The episode is slow. It spends time establishing the various politics and power structures within the prison. The viewers are made aware through a series of scenes that House has learned to navigate the various sects and manipulate the system. He is more subdued than we’ve seen him since the first few episodes of the series. He is restrained, yet still smart mouthed, and continues to push the line of propriety even as he follows the rules set out before him by both guards and alpha prisoners. Unfortunately, the possibility of parole has now shifted the lines of power and new expectations are placed upon House. This, intermixed with the medical puzzle presented through a fellow prisoner, pushes House into situations and old behaviors that could risk his parole, and even his future both in and out of prison.

The patient of the week has a rash. Not interesting to Dr. House, but a trip to the infirmary during his daily janitorial chores – which of course leads to the introduction of new doctor, Dr. Adams (Odette Annabel) – draws House into a new puzzle. The patient of the week is interesting, even though the changing power dynamic with the inmates prove to distract from the case. As usual, there are several misdiagnosis and treatments before the final epiphany, but it allows more time to set some groundwork for the season.

Typical of House, he reads Dr. Adams almost immediately and uses his knowledge to manipulate his way into further involvement with the case. We understand immediately that House sees in the prison doctor an altruistic nature that frustrates as much as fascinates, but he’s most intrigued by her interest in the medical puzzle. This commonality would have felt like a good foundation for a future connection had it not been for the forced and cliché scene wherein House and Dr. Adams mirror one another in a reaction to the patient’s symptoms. As Adams declares “cool” when the patient bleeds profusely, the relationship suddenly felt forced, weakening any natural chemistry between the two.

The new doctor does however provide an outlet to introduce what will very likely be an important push this season. House has a gift. Yes, the gift of medicine, but this is not the one in the spotlight. He has a gift of reading people. This is not a new revelation into the House character; we’ve known about this gift all along. It is the aspect of House that made season 7 so unbelievable and frustrating. It is the aspect that viewers were expected to ignore as it undermined the unconvincing weakness in the structure of the House/Cuddy romantic relationship, challenged the notion that he is incapable of sustaining a relationship and made incoherent the notion that he could not function in his medical prowess while in a relationship.

Additionally, House is driven by a need to be right, which both supports and disrupts that gift. His interchanges with Dr. Adams regarding these aspects of his personality are very reminiscent of the season 3 episode, Son of a Coma Guy. In fact, I found the echoes of the Baraku back-story quite beautiful. Unfortunately, having writer Peter Blake admit to an online Twitter follower that this homage was unintentional and an accidental connection was a bit disheartening. Most House fans are smart and analytical, making the connections that reflect the complexity of the character. To think these connections are more accidental than intentional really makes you appreciate how much power is packed into a real plan. Such an admission leaves viewers appreciative that accidents like this happen, but doesn’t build faith in the talent and forethought of the writers.

Predictably, House does not submit to the demands of the prisoners. He throws the expectations in their faces, placing himself in future risk by disrupting and confronting the power structure, and he destroys this chance for parole. The new doctor sides with House and breaks the rules for the “good of the patient.” For a moment, House and the viewers are left wondering if all of his scheming was worth it. But then, in the final scenes we’re reminded that House is always right, and that yes – it’s what he most needs to hear.

This isn’t one of their strongest episodes. It felt laborious and did not utilize the characters for emotional and/or intellectual impact. Jaleel White and Michael Pare were no more than bit characters, wasting considerable talent and possibilities. The scenes with Kaleti Williams offered the most interesting material of the episode, with few spoken words and a lot of expression, their scenes created the ambiguity and complexity into character motivations that House fans love. The secondary patient for House, found in his cellmate’s pet cricket, provided more depth than the primary story.

It was disappointing to have Dr. Adams, who will later become a permanent member of the diagnostic team, placed in the precarious position of mocking the fans/critics through a bit of dialogue that both minimized violence and ignored the overall impact. Scripting her to address this ill-conceived notion marred her character and placed the actress in even a more difficult position in her journey to win over the audience in the post-Cuddy era.

For that matter, the episode didn’t address an important and anticipated detail since it was announced that Lisa Edelstein would not be returning to the show: the absence of Lisa Cuddy. In the overall structure of the episode, it makes sense that she’s not mentioned. On the other hand, some viewers are watching the premiere for the singular purpose of seeing how they will write-off this valued member of the team. The fact that they do not reveal any real pain or remorse regarding his relationship with Cuddy or the violent act “on her home,” may prove to be an albatross around the proverbial neck of this series. Even in a moment when the viewer is clearly meant to sympathize with House as he bemoans lost love through the “reading” of his patient, there is a lack of emotional authenticity. He may not have anyone waiting for him and everyone has moved on during his months of imprisonment, but without the depth of sorrow and longing (such as seen throughout S6 as he pined for Cuddy), it’s hard to garner any sympathy or regain the connection to the character.

Additionally, the overuse of vocal epiphanies into House and his motives (through Dr. Adams) are unconvincing. Where the show once allowed the subtle nuances that Hugh Laurie brought to his performance, and House himself to actually unveil the character (while still leaving much up to varied interpretations) it has become a disappointing habit over the past few seasons to have the unlikely characters in his life allegedly “explain” him. This is demeaning to a smart audience, and still doesn’t really give away anything about the character because the viewers cannot really believe what is being said. With anvil approaches, there is always doubt, disbelief and disappointment.

For a series that needed to come on strong in what may be their final season, it is in fact weak. They are facing an already difficult task with the loss of Lisa Edelstein, who portrayed a very popular character and an integral part in the story, but the rebuilding of the primary character of House is the most challenging goal of all. After the controversy of last season’s finale, they needed to not only address the punishment for House’s crime against Cuddy, but also surprise the audience with a revelation of his character that would give some meaning to the debacle of season 7. The ambiguity that is usually a hallmark of the series only proves to weaken this premiere that so desperately needed to take a strong, intentional stand on both issues and direction. Even the reason for his sentence is ambiguous, as the viewer is left wondering if House threw himself on the sword as a means to punish himself for the acts that brought him shame, or did his arrogance place him in jail?

The somber tones of the episodes and the insights into Dr. Gregory House (which at this point are new to the characters, not the viewer) are reminiscent of the pilot, and it often feels like that is exactly what this is – a pilot episode for the new House MD. The main character is interesting, but the peripheral characters are uninspired. The setting is overplayed and cliché, even though there was much less prison violence than the promos suggested. Hugh Laurie is talented and imparts more into the story than the script projects. The subtle focus on House’s gift and his incessant need to be right is as intriguing now as it was the first time. Unfortunately, the failure to open House up to any new revelations regarding his issues, or even touch on one of the many dropped plots throughout the series, continues to be problematic for the overall narrative. The House character is the show; he’s the purpose and the focal point. But failing to delve deeper into the character’s past and his nature erodes the very foundation of this series. The introduction of new characters, peripheral subplots and shock/awe story twists are not sustainable without the fortification of a growing understanding into the heart and soul of Dr.Gregory House.

Although this premiere offers a reset and a possibility to “return to roots” as David Shore suggests, it’s just another crash for House where he is placed in a new situation, with new people, new challenges, and is taken to yet another dark place, but without growth or substance. The character remains stagnant with only the performance Hugh Laurie providing depth. It doesn’t make you want to change the channel, but it certainly makes you hope episode 2 will bring something to get House off the hamster wheel, and re-ignite our love of the show and the character.

Rating: C