“God Gets an ‘A’ Mr. Jackson; You get a…”

March 27, 2026

I’ve taken a lot of tests in my day.

Let’s see…your Iowa Basics Skills Test.  

Your California Class B and C Driver’s License exams, both written and behind the wheel of my folks’ 67 Plymouth Fury Station Wagon and an old UC Davis Unitrans bus.

Your FAA Airman Knowledge Exam.

I know. Don’t ask. It was a short-lived dream. My pilot aspirations never got off the ground.

What else?

The trifecta of scholastic aptitude tests: your PSAT, SAT, and LSAT. I’m guessing 35 undergrad and 20 law school final exams. The Professional Responsibility Exam to prove to the State Bar I was ethical, and the mother of them all, the 3-day California Bar Exam.

Passed them all. 

Well, except one. 

I’m pretty sure I failed a Medieval History exam where the professor…a short arrogant nitwit who spoke with a fake English accent and looked like Sebastian Cabot … strode into the lecture hall, scribbled “The Plague?” on the chalkboard and walked out. My mistake was misreading his tell.  I took from the length of the question and the manner in which he delivered it that he was looking for brevity in the answer. 

I was apparently mistaken in this assumption.

My dad used to tell the story, now legendary in the Jackson clan, of the time, while at Purdue University, he didn’t know the answer to a test question. Out of time and looking for a laugh, he wrote, “…God only knows.” He got the laugh. When he got the test back, the professor had written, “God gets an “A” Mr. Jackson…you get an “F.”

You had to know my dad. He took great pride in that grade.

Looking back, I’m convinced that I passed all of these tests, not through dint of preparation nor command of the material, but because of good ol’ fashioned dumb luck and a good-luck ritual I invoked each time I sat down. 

You see, I would bring to each exam a roll of Wintergreen Lifesavers and place it on the desk in front of me. When the proctor said “Begin”, I would slowly, methodically unwrap my Lifesavers, pop one into my mouth, savor it, look around, and only then take pen to paper. Worked every time.

Fast forward fifty years.

Before a Kaiser Parkinson’s patient can undergo deep brain stimulation or focused ultrasound, he must pass three tests. Kinda like snatching pebbles from the hand of a Shaolin Master.

Pebble No. 1…a psychiatric exam.

Pebble No. 2…a neurological exam after a night without your medication, and

Pebble No. 3…a CT scan of your noggin to make sure your skull isn’t too thick.

Sounds easy enough. 

Off to Walnut Creek we go. We find the place. Cathy sits in for the preliminaries and confirms, as we rehearsed, that I’m a happy guy and that she feels safe at home. The shrink asks her to step out. She gives me a kiss on the forehead and a wink of encouragement. 

I’m on my own. 

The Questionnaire and Interview

First up?  A routine questionnaire. Uh huh…uh huh. I get it. Save your breath doc, I know a good CYA when I see it. I’ve covered more legal asses than this place has bedpans. I get the picture. 

Basically, you won’t fit me for my Colander or a Brain Pacemaker if I don’t have a proper “cognitive baseline.” 

Seems a bit oxymoronic to me, don’t you think.  A Catch-22 actually. I mean…how can you be of the right mind when no one in his right mind would let some stranger take a Makita to his head or shoot moonbeams into his cranium with some ray gun?

Oh, well. Where do I sign?. 

Three hours later I’m done. Three weeks later I search through my online Kaiser records and there it is.

My report card.

Hmph…so there is a chart on me. I knew it.

Confidential? Nah, screw it. My readers are my friends.

Qualified? What the hell! Who’s better qualified than I. Me? I’m pretty sure it’s “I.”

Let’s look…

Current medical conditions?…  “Too long to list.”

Current medications?… “Even longer.”

Chief complaint?… “How much time you got?”

Behavioral observations?…

• ”Patient arrived on time”…(I’ve always said, ‘Better to be at the courthouse early than run into the courtroom late and piss off the judge.” Good advice to you youngsters.)
• “Hygiene appeared good and appropriately dressed”… (I brushed my teeth, shaved and used some deodorant)
• “Mood euthymic and affect congruent”…(Uh oh; what the hell does that mean?)
• “Speech in casual conversation was
  •  “fluent”…I should hope so
• • “prosodic”…that doesn’t sound good
  • “without paraphasic errors”…better look that one up
• “Thought processes linear and goal directed.” (That’s good, right? It sounds good; don’t you think?”)

Gulp.

On to the exam questions. I remember these.

No. 1:

The Digit Span Test

“So, you want me to repeat a list of numbers. First forward. Then backward. We’ll start with three numbers, then four, then five. Up to twelve numbers.”

1-7-3

5-8-2-6

7-2-8-9-3

4-1-7-9-3-8-6

5-8-1-9-2-6-4-7

2-7-5-8-6-2-5-8-4

5-8-2-4-7-9-1-3-2-2

9-9-1-5-8-4-1-3-5-7-9-2

Score?

Nailed it. Perfect score. Off the chart. Strong working memory. 

This stuff is easy.

No. 2

The Trail Making Test

Hmmm…visual attention?

I’m listening.

“You want me to draw lines between randomly arranged numbers and letters. Start at 1, then find A, then to 2, then find B, then to 3 then find C. And you’re going to time me?”

GO! 

Score?

Below average?

What?

BELOW AVERAGE.

So, I had to backtrack and erase a couple of times. Big deal. I’ll give myself a C–. Nothing wrong with a “C”, Rob.

No. 3

Naming

“You’re going to give me 31 color photographs and you want me to tell you what’s in each picture?” 

Okay, sounds right in my wheelhouse. I’m good with language.

GO! 

Score?

Average.

Average?

Yes, average. As in 69^th percentile? 

BUT THAT WASN’T A RADISH. A RADISH IS ROUND AND RED.

No. 4

Reasoning

Complete the pattern.

Uhhhh…what pattern? 

No. 5  

Orientation

Match the lines to the numbered lines below?

3 and 10? No.…5 and 7? Put me down for a 4 and 8…no 9…no 8.

No. 6

 Complex Figure Copy

You’re going to show me a picture. I’m to study it. And then draw it from memory. Then draw it again 3 minutes later. And again, 30 minutes later.

Okay…let’s take a look. 

Ohhhh boy,

Let’s see. A spaceship with a man driving it. There’s a railroad track. No, maybe those are stitches. That’s a kite. A flag…A couple of crosses.

Times up?

Sheeez.

Immediate recall? 90^th percentile. Excellent.

Three minutes later? I dropped to 69%?

Thirty minutes later? Uh…42%.

Good thing they didn’t ask me after an hour.

No. 7 

Similarities

Okay, last one. Need to finish strong Rob. 

“You’re going to give me two words and I’m to tell you in what way they are alike?”

Okay?

GO.

APPLE & BANANA?

Easy. 

Fruit.

SHIRT & HAT

Uhh…they both end in a “t”

No?

I’m just having fun with you doc,

Things you wear.

PIANO & DRUM?

Percussion instruments

SALT & WATER?

My first thought is prerequisites for pasta, 

But I’m gonna go with chemical compounds.

LIGHT & SOUND?

Uhh…

That’s a tough one

Both have 5 letters?

EXIT & ENTRY?

Trick question; they’re opposites.

FREEDOM & TRUTH?

Illusions in current society?

REALITY & DREAM?

Uhh…

THEOLOGY & EUCLIDIAN GEOMETRY?

Constructs to explain a universe which,

in the final analysis, 

is unfathomable. 

Too much?

SOMETHING & NOTHING?

Hmmm…got me on that one, doc.

I got nothing.

Conclusion?

Let’s see…gulp.

“The patient’s premorbid abilities were probably within the superior range.” 

That’s good, isn’t it, Cath? Sounds good. Don’t you think?

I mean, I don’t like the morbid part. If there was a “pre” morbid, there must be a morbid and I must be in it now. Never thought of myself as morbid.

That’s depressing. 

And…?

“There’s more?”

“The patient’s recall was at best low average and memory, while not impaired, was “lower than expected in someone who is quite bright.”

Hmmm.

So, I’m forgetful. 

I suppose that’s true.  I mean, I do remember ” The Plague question.” Sebastian Cabot. And I remember my bus driver test. And ground school. Lift, drag, thrust…Bernoulli’s principle.

So, I do remember some stuff.

But I suppose you’re right. I am forgetful.

After all, I forgot my Wintergreen LifeSavers.

God knows… the premorbid Rob would never have forgotten his lifesavers.