Oh how the non psychoanalytic therapist is like one of my male friends growing up, the ones who desired to provide direct advice! After all, the more expedient they could be in solving my problem, the sooner we could get back to watching sports, debating the best alternative rock album, and other inane acts of adolescent male development. To my friends' credit their listening could usually be described as sharp, persistent, and genuine. At the same time, however, listening was used as a vehicle to impart knowledge they confidently owned. “Just give us the facts and the information we need!” I can still hear them say. In retrospect, they had great respect for the observable nature of the scientific process. The concept of how earlier life experience could shape personality was of little relevance to them. From their perspective, I needed a good dose of reason, direction (at time experienced as condescension), and reminder that reality was harsh. Of course, the tribulations of the real world were a product of myself, as I was clearly my own worst enemy as opposed to an extension of my past.