The Paul Revere Owl of Rage

A friend of mine from Revere found a drawing I did in junior high school. I had totally forgotten about it, but once I had a look yesterday, I remembered what it was about.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/JCGvONbVCa0

I was asked to draw something that could be used for the Paul Revere School eighth-grade graduation program. I was a misfit back then, a fat, slovenly kid who sucked at sports and verbally fought with just about everyone. But I could draw, and my peers appreciated the skill. My drawings were one of the few things I’d get praise for. So, naturally, I drew a lot of pictures.

This one was modeled after the scholarly owl in the 1970s kids program New Zoo Review. I decided to inject my attitude into the creature’s face, however, and you can see it best in his angry eyes. The picture is a bit blurry, but the eyes come through clearly enough:

Bill drawing from 1984
To be fair, I was just getting into heavy metal music at the time, and that had some influence on this “owl of rage.” But 1984 was also the worst year of my life up to that point. My brother had just died, and it was the first of my two years at Paul Revere School, where I didn’t fit in the way I had at the Roosevelt School in the Point of Pines.

One thing I remember clearly: My drawings always reflected how I was feeling. And at that time, I was feeling rage.

More on this time period in “Seeds Of Rage At The Paul Revere School

The rage lasted all through high school and beyond, though it moderated and mixed with the chaotic emotions found in all teenagers.

I eventually found God, a stable family life and a career, and today I can’t relate to the look in that owl’s eyes as well as I used to.

This makes me happy.

A Night in the Sleep Lab

I’m a chronic snorer. Hardly a week goes by where I’m not banished to the living room couch at least once for making a racket. My oldest son gleefully tells his buddies that I sound like a “busted chainsaw” at night. Erin has also observed that I sometimes stop breathing for short spurts.

It’s an old problem, and two surgeries to the nose and throat failed to fix it. A hefty weight loss didn’t help much, either.

So last week, I went for a sleep study.

Mood music:

I expected to spend the night in one of your average hospital beds in an average hospital room. Instead, I walked in to discover something not unlike the business-class hotels I frequent. A big flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall, the bed was big and comfortable and the color scheme of the room relaxing, unlike the white, sterile hospital environment I expected.

sleep study

The tech kept an eye on me all night through the camera above the TV.

The technician, John, came in and had me sit in a chair, while he spent the next hour hooking me up with a bunch of electrodes. As he worked, the two of us howled with laughter at the over-the-top drama of The Discovery Channel‘s Shark Week, which played on the TV overhead.

Sleep study 2

The wires that protruded from my head, chest and arms as I slept

Then it was time to retire. I crawled into bed gingerly, worried that I’d knock out some of the wires John had painstakingly attached. I brought the book Black Mass — a must-read about James “Whitey” Bulger’s decades-long reign of terror in Boston — and I got through three pages before I passed out. That’s not unusual. At home, I usually fall asleep after just a few pages of whatever book I’m reading.

Sleep study 3

This bed was damn comfortable.

I only remember John coming into the room once overnight, to tighten an electrode on the chest that had come loose.

He woke me up at 6 a.m. I asked him if I did anything interesting overnight. Did the busted chainsaw make an appearance? “You did snore a bit,” he said, smiling. Did I talk in my sleep, stop breathing or make any bizarre movements? Nope. In fact, he said, I failed to make the top 10 of interesting case studies.

Truth be told, that bummed me out a little bit. First, because that raises the possibility that the real sleep problems I’m having decided not to make an appearance that night. Second, because I don’t like to bore people.

Thursday I’ll get the results of the sleep study. If it proves inconclusive, I may be sent back for another sleep test.

Given the first experience, that wouldn’t bother me at all.

Sending Our Kids to Another School

After weeks of agonizing, debating, praying and researching, Erin and I made the painful but necessary decision to move the kids from the only school they’ve ever known to someplace new.

Mood music:

In three weeks, Sean and Duncan won’t be starting school at St. Joseph’s in Haverhill. Instead, they’re going to St. Augustine’s in Andover.

We love the St. Joe’s community and always will. But the bottom line is that both boys have extra needs the school simply isn’t equipped to provide. Sean needs more of an academic challenge in the next two years, as he sets his sights on getting into a prestigious, private high school. Duncan needs an environment better equipped to meet the needs of his IEP (Individualized Education Program). St. Joe’s has struggled to do what’s needed for a child with ADHD.

We’re excited to send them to St. Augustine’s, which has many more resources to meet those needs. But getting to that decision was hard. And telling the kids was even harder.

Like many parents, we instinctively want to shield our children from trauma. Few traumas are greater to kids than being sent to another school, particularly when they’ve been in the same place since pre-school. As expected, they were upset when we told them. There were tears and protests. We were emotionally spent by day’s end.

The next morning, we took them to the new school for admissions testing and a tour. We spent more than half the morning there, and by the time we were done, the kids were smiling. They still have their anxieties about the unknown. They are not jumping for joy, and they won’t be. But by the time we left, I think they knew this was for the best and that they were going to be just fine.

They know they’ll make new friends, and we’ve made it clear that we’ll help them stay connected to their St. Joe’s friends. Doing so won’t be difficult. We’re still parishioners of the school’s parent church, All Saints. Sean is still part of the church youth group and will see many of his friends there. And both boys are still Scouts, which will ensure another level of continuity.

In the final analysis playing it safe was unacceptable to us. Kids are going to have tough experiences in their lives and need to learn to roll with it. As parents, we have to give them our time and attention and help them stay on the right path. But we also must take occasional risks, upsetting the balance in the face of opportunity, teaching them to do the same.

And so we have.

The New School

Plot Twist!

Someone on Facebook recently suggested that when life hands us curveballs, we yell “Plot twist!” and adjust to the unexpected, often inconvenient scenarios that throw the days off course. Take it from someone whose OCD makes schedule changes seem like calamities, that’s good advice.

Mood music:

In more recent years, I’ve gotten better at quickly adjusting when things don’t go as planned, though sometimes it still throws me into a foul mood.

When I was a kid, I’d throw epic tantrums if we went to the movies and the film we wanted to see was sold out. That’s typical childhood behavior, but it followed me to adulthood. I’d rage if a traffic jam threw off the timing of when I’d get from point A to B (I still hate that, but my reaction is more muted). If plans for a night out with friends or a quiet night at home suddenly changed, I’d sink into a depressive funk.

Thinking of these things as plot twists goes far in changing that kind of attitude for the better. There’s a certain fun to yelling “Plot twist!” It injects humor into the situation and calms the other people with you who are being equally inconvenienced.

During a recent camping trip with the family in Maine, the power went out while dinner was cooking on the camper stove. It was hot as hell and we suddenly had no AC to escape to. Erin yelled “Plot twist!” and we proceeded to make the dinner preparations that didn’t require electricity. It also led me to see humor in the fact that electricity had become a requirement on camping trips. To be fair, it wasn’t tent camping. We use campers that hook into such home comforts as water and sewer access, Wi-Fi and cable TV.

Yelling “Plot twist!” doesn’t always work, however. If you’re working and a deadline is hanging over you, it’s hard to find the amusement when your Internet access goes down. If there’s a death among family or friends, nothing is going to blunt the sadness.

But if it helps you through at least some of life’s unexpected turns, that’s more than you had before.

Plot twist!

Assessing Suicide Risk and Learning Intervention Tactics

Having lost my best friend to suicide in 1996 and suffered my own bouts of depression over the years, I’m grateful for those who rise up to stem the tide of this often-misunderstood scourge. In my industry (information security) I’ve met a lot of good people who suffer in silence. Among them are folks who refuse to sit back and take it.

And so we’ve seen the rise of such endeavors as the Information Technology Burnout Project and talks at a series of hacker conferences on how to spot someone with depression and intervene before it’s too late. One such talk happened at the DEF CON 21 conference in Las Vegas last weekend. The talk was given by Amber Baldet, who has also given the talk at such events as SOURCE Boston.

Mood music:

Baldet wrote of last weekend’s experience on her Idiosyncratic Routine blog and has graciously shared her presentation with me and others who couldn’t make it to the talk. You can view the full slideshow here, but let me give you the highlights.

Early in the slideshow, Baldet describes suicidal behavior as a contagion that “directly or indirectly (via media) influences others to attempt suicide.” I never attempted suicide myself, but my experience is that the depression of a friend, colleague or loved one can rub off on those who inhabit the same environment. It can deepen someone else’s depression and, if that person is so inclined, it can make them suicidal. Media coverage adds fuel to that fire, as noted in this slide:

We're Doing It Wrong

Another slide focuses on the clinical aspects, conditions that lead to depression and, in some, suicide:

Clinical Stuff

There are a lot of traits in the security community and beyond that spark depression and suicidal behavior. One is the tendency of hackers to stay up all night as they follow one code-based rabbit hole after another. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead, too busy CRUSHING IT,” as Baldet puts it.

There’s also a high degree of paranoia in our community. Paranoia is a disease I know well. I’ve lived it and watched my best friend get eaten alive by it.

The most valuable slides focus on specific ways to help others:

Rethink Our Service Model

Indetifying Risk

Oh Shizz Now What

Building Rapport

Bringing 'It' Up

Threat Assessment

Action Plan & Next Steps

I highly recommend you check out the full presentation, Suicide Risk Assessment and Intervention Tactic.

Thanks for sharing, Amber.

DefCon 21