The Manson Obsession: An Anthology

I’ve written a ridiculous number of posts about Charles Manson. What can I say? I’m a guy given to obsessions, and the Manson case is a big one. Today — the 46th anniversary of the Tate-LaBianca murders — seems like as good a time as any to share an anthology…

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/5fvJEpdq8a8

Vincent Bugliosi Inspired My Work in Journalism, InfoSec“: Vincent Bugliosi, the man who prosecuted Charles Manson and his family and then detailed the case in his book Helter Skelter, has died at age 80. Indirectly, I owe some of my career trajectory to him.

The Beatles’ White Album and Charles Manson“: A post about the album Charlie made such a big deal about.

Dennis Wilson and the Manson Family“: The sad tale of Dennis Wilson, drummer of The Beach Boys and one-time friend of Charles Manson.

I Regret Wearing That Charles Manson T-Shirt“: In the early 1990s, Patti Tate, sister of Sharon Tate, was on a public tirade against Guns ‘N’ Roses frontman Axl Rose for going on stage every night wearing a Charles Manson T-Shirt. Around the same time, I had my own Manson shirt, worn regularly to freak people out.

Slaying Old Fears in the Hollywood Hills“: This one is about the week I went to Los Angeles on business and killed some old demons while there.

Telling the Tate-LaBianca Story: Truth and Embellishment“: A while back I had written a post about how, in my opinion, Restless Souls: The Sharon Tate Family’s Account of Stardom, the Manson Murders, and a Crusade for Justice by Alisa Statmen and Brie Tate, was the most important book ever written about the Manson murders (see below). Then the book’s accuracy was thrown into question. Here I talk about that accuracy.

Tate-LaBianca, 43 Years Later: A Strange Society of Manson Watchers“: I’ve met some interesting people as a result of this Manson obsession.

The Most Important Book Ever Written About Sharon Tate and the Manson Murders“: Restless Souls: The Sharon Tate Family’s Account of Stardom, the Manson Murders, and a Crusade for Justice, written by Tate family friend Alisa Statman and Brie Tate, niece of Sharon Tate, may well be the most important book written on the Manson case.

Helter Skelter“: Wherein the author first admits his OCD behavior includes an obsession with the Manson Case.

Hleter Skelter text over LA night skyline

Accused Haverhill Church Vandal Needs Help, Not Hate

Over the holidays, there was much outrage over the news that someone stole the Baby Jesus figure from a Nativity scene at Sacred Hearts Parish in Haverhill, leaving a severed pig’s head in its place.

I was among those offended and troubled. It happened on Christmas morning and had all the hallmarks of a hateful act. A lot of people speculated that it was a hate crime. My guess at the time was that it was the work of one or more young punks who needed to be taught a hard lesson.

Yesterday, we learned more about what may have happened.

Mood music:

According to The Eagle-Tribune, police have charged 54-year-old Amarellis Ceremeno — a homeless woman — with the Sacred Hearts vandalism, as well as with the desecration of Iglesia Biblica Bautista (Bible Baptist Church), where she allegedly wrote “666” on the church multiple times.

The anger I felt has been replaced by feelings of pity. The woman reportedly suffers from serious mental illness, and police said she has an obsession with religion.

Early speculation was that someone had butchered a pig specifically so they could leave its head in the Nativity scene. But police told the newspaper that the pig’s head was probably discarded by someone who had cooked a pig for Christmas Eve. Police were reportedly informed that it’s customary for some in the Latino community to roast pigs on Christmas Eve and that Ceremeno may have found the pig’s head in the trash early Christmas Day.

This is a sad story from start to finish.

Fortunately, it looks like police and political leaders are doing their best to withhold judgement. I think we should do the same.

Mayor James Fiorentini told WCVB Channel 5 that the incident illustrates the need for better mental health assistance for homeless residents.

“I know this lady personally, as I’ve indicated to the press before. She’s a frequenter of the mayor’s office, and we hope she gets the help that she needs,” he said.

Mental illness drives people to dark places. I’m proof of that. Fortunately, I’ve been blessed with plenty of help along the way.

May it be the same for Ceremeno.

Amarellis Ceremeno by Paul Bilodeau

Amarellis Ceremeno, 54, of Haverhill, whom police list as homeless, at her appearance in Haverhill District Court last month. Photo by Paul Bilodeau/The Eagle-Tribune

To the Asshole Who Wrote “5 Reasons to Date a Girl with an Eating Disorder”

The Internet has made it possible for all sorts of assholes to have a forum. Although this is common knowledge, some people still manage to shock me.

The latest example is an article someone calling himself Tuthmosis wrote called “5 Reasons to Date a Girl with an Eating Disorder.”

Mood music:

I always try to see the best in humanity. For all the bad seeds out there, I do believe we’ve come a long way in how we treat people based on such things as race, sexual orientation and religion.

Then there are people like Tuthmosis. In his article, he claims women with eating disorders make for good dating because, among other things:

  • They are fragile and easily controlled.
  • They are crazy, and crazy women are fantastic in bed.
  • Their obsession with appearance will improve their overall looks.
  • They cost less money because they won’t eat much.

That publications happily run this shit makes me sick to the bones.

If you see this, Tuthmosis, I just want to say one thing, on behalf of everyone — men and women — who has suffered at the savage hands of eating disorders and other mental illnesses:

Fuck you.

The publisher, Roosh, claims there is nothing wrong with this article. Fuck him too.

assholes

Binging a Path from Hilltop Steakhouse to Augustine’s

Many of my friends and family are sad to hear about the planned closing of Hilltop Steakhouse on Route 1 in Saugus, Mass.

I’m not gonna lie: I never understood the affection people had for the dining experience there. I always found the food mediocre at best, particularly in later years. But I did do my share of binging there because it was close by and affordable. And I can’t argue the place’s significance as a landmark on that stretch of highway.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/cFKeEBFsZek

The massive cactus sign. The cattle statuary all across the front lawn. If you’re from around there, you can’t help but feel nostalgic.

On hearing the news about Hilltop’s plan to close, one friend lamented that all the classic eateries of the area were gone, bulldozed for unremarkable restaurant chains. He ran off some names of places long gone: Hometown Buffet on Route 114 in Peabody. Augustine’s further up Route 1 in Saugus.

Something occurred to me upon hearing the names: All my old binging holes are gone.

As a kid I loved going to Augustine’s. It’s the first buffet experience I can remember. I loved that I could eat at the trough until I was ready to throw up — which I did more than once. As I got older I realized the food was actually pretty mediocre. But that didn’t matter. Binge eaters don’t care if their drug of choice is high-quality dining. What matters is availability. It’s why college freshmen tend to gain wait their first semester. The crappy food in the dining hall is free flowing and you sort of feel cheated if you don’t pile it high.

When I worked at Rockit Records in the early 1990s, Augustine’s was still open, and I binged there daily at one point. I was almost relieved when they finally tore it down.

Some days I’d binge at Hilltop, then do the same right after at Augustine’s. I was like the shark in Jaws, chewing my way from the barrel ropes to the boat.

I don’t miss doing that shit. But I don’t blame places like Hilltop and Augustine’s for what I did. Even without them, there’s plenty of binging ground on that stretch of highway to be done if I were so inclined. I’m not, thank God.

We like to heap all the blame on our enablers. But the problem always begins with the addicted mind.

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Athletic Bulimia and Asshole Slogans

As someone who has struggled with both compulsive behavior and binge eating, a blog post from Pilates instructor, movement therapist and martial artist Kevin Moore called “The 6 Most Shockingly Irresponsible ‘Fitspiration’ Photos” strikes a big chord with me.

Moore takes aim at the advertisers who put out photos of rail-thin men and women with six-pack abs with messages suggesting you’re inferior, even pathetic, unless you find a way to get ripped. Number three especially resonates with me. It’s a saying I’ve seen a lot on places like Facebook:

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I won’t say this one offends me. But as someone with OCD, a condition where obsessive behavior is a form of slavery, I find it spectacularly stupid. Especially the part about people being lazy if they are not of this “dedicated” mindset.

The saying describes the dedicated as those who spend hours upon hours in the gym, pushing their bodies to the outer limits until they reach physical perfection. Take it from someone who knows what it’s like to be obsessed with both exercise and the more obviously self-destructive behaviors like binge eating: Being that dedicated is not always a good thing.

I have a lot of friends who are very athletic and I’m inspired by them. Some have lost a lot of weight that caused them a variety of health problems. Getting in shape wasn’t easy for them, but they got it done.

But when you start to feel subhuman because you only exercised an hour instead of two, or you only lost two pounds in a week instead of five, you’ve blown past the parameters of healthy.

The biggest reason I find this slogan stupid, though, is that I know from experience how obsessive exercise is used to mask ongoing bad behavior in the eating department:

  • In my late teens, I got the bright idea that I could party and drink all I wanted on the weekends with no danger of weight gain if I starved myself during the week, often living on one cheese sandwich a day.
  • My senior year in high school I wanted to drop a lot of weight fast. So for two weeks straight, I ate nothing but raisin bran from a mug two times a day and nothing else. I also ran laps around the basement for two hours a day.
  • In my late 20s, after years of vicious binge eating sent my weight to 280, I lost more than a hundred pounds through some healthy means and some fairly stupid tactics, like fasting for half of Tuesday and most of Wednesday. On Wednesdays, I would also triple my workout time on the elliptical cross-training machine at the gym. I did all this so I would be happy with the number on the scale come Thursday morning, my weekly weigh-in time. Thursday through Saturday, I would eat like a pig, then severely pull back on the eating by Sunday. Call it the 3-4 program (binge three days, starve four days, repeat).
  • In my early to mid-30s, some of my most vicious binge eating happened. For a while, though, I kept the weight down by walking 3.5 miles every day, no matter the weather. That worked great for a couple years, but then the dam broke and I binged my way to a 65-pound weight gain.

I’ve heard this kind of behavior described as athletic bulimia. I found it easy as hell to become dedicated to athletic bulimia. But health had nothing to do with it. My obsessions were all about body image.

And slogans like the one above only made the obsession worse, because it was always a reminder that my body was not perfect.

Latest Obsession: Whitey Bulger

I’ve written previously about how my OCD gives me the tendency to latch onto certain subjects and research them obsessively. Examples include the history of the Manson and Amityville murder cases, to the point of getting a closer look at sites related to those cases.

I’ve always considered this obsession harmless. It makes me read a lot of books on the subjects and visit places when the travel schedule permits, but what’s wrong with that? The obsession expands into other areas of America’s past, including White House history. That one got me in trouble once but also led to a West Wing tour for Erin, the kids and me.

Now I find myself captivated by the history of Whitey Bulger, his associates and their arrangement with the Boston FBI.

Mood music:

I’ve always had more than a passing interest in Whitey and his brother Billy, who ruled the Massachusetts statehouse with a corrupt iron fist for decades. But the recent trial of Whitey rekindled my interest. I recently read Black Mass, probably the best one on the subject, and now I find myself Googling everything related to the subject.

Since I live and work in the Boston area, I now have the compulsion to drive around to every place connected to the case: the Lancaster Street garage Bulger and his associates used as a front, the South Boston liquor store he extorted from a husband and wife immediately after they opened for business, the places where his victims were exhumed.

These outings are always more fun with friends, especially those with photography talents.

Who’s in?

Whitey Bulger

Think Before You Talk About Your ‘OCD’

People often ask me if I get offended by jokes and movies about OCD. The answer is usually no, because I think it’s healthy to see the humor in one’s afflictions, and the movies, when done right, educate the masses on what it’s like to suffer from this scourge. But one thing does piss me off.

It’s when people say they “went OCD” after doing such routine tasks as cleaning their house, cooking or completing a work project.

Mood music:

http://youtu.be/72rWAe0pUdQ

When someone says they “got all OCD” with particular tasks, I usually keep my mouth shut. In most cases no one gets hurt from such talk and everyone I know who has tossed around the acronym so casually have done so without malice, and are good people I’m grateful to call friends, colleagues and family.

But I also think if someone is going to say they have OCD, they should know what the disorder really entails. Having a Type-A personality doesn’t cut it.

Sure, there are parts of my own OCD that look like Type-A activity. I tend to swing for the fences when a task is before me, and I have had a lot of career success that was in part fueled by the freakish drive I get when the OCD runs hot.

But there’s more to it. Much more.

For me, OCD also means crippling obsessions and compulsive behavior: worry that has spun out of control and made me physically sick. The itching urge to check doors over and over to make sure they’re locked or check my laptop bag multiple times to make sure the computer is in fact in there. The nagging itch to go on a binge or spend money on something I can’t afford.

I’ve learned to manage these darker aspects through therapy, medicine and life experiences. But I never forget the fear and anxiety I lived with for years as the OCD spun furiously beyond my control.

I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. Obviously, I sure as hell wouldn’t wish it on friends and loved ones.

So next time you describe how OCD you are, think about what that really entails.

obsessed

Be The Blessing

This was originally written after the 2013 Boston Marathon Bombings. Many tragic events have happened since then, most notably the COVID-19 pandemic and its lockdowns, the resulting economic calamity and now race riots in cities across America after the death of George Floyd, a black man who died after being pinned down by a white officer. Now more than ever, we must put aside hate and be a force for good in the lives of our friends, family and neighbors. In other words, be the blessing.

***

I get frequent messages from readers. One was from someone tormented by current events — be it the government spying on citizens or any number of potential calamities.  She asked how to make it stop.

I didn’t have an answer. I have no psychiatric degree — only my personal experiences.

Mood music:

The reader’s message said, in part:

I deal with scrupulosity, ruminations over heaven and hell, conspiracy theories and intrusive thoughts. It’s gotten to the point where it’s become impossible to function when I read a new headline about what the government is doing to us. I get depressed and I get obsessed. I see my intense fear and read things about the government tracking us, and suddenly I regret all the research I did about conspiracies over many years. I don’t know if I even believe it all, but I somehow feel like the more I know, the more I can somehow save my family.

I don’t know what to do about current events. I don’t know how to save my family from government tracking (even though we’re not doing anything illegal or anything that would be of concern), yet I feel like my OCD is making me out to be this inadvertent target due to the fact that I’m always obsessively searching through conspiracy websites attempting to find “answers.” How did this stop? How do you deal with this?

I can relate to her fear of current events. It’s something that used to paralyze me on a regular basis. I felt the need to give an answer broader than the fear of current events part, because to me that’s merely a symptom of the bigger problem people like us must confront. And so I mentioned how, for me, the biggest helpers have involved:

I noted how, even after adding these tools, I still struggle. Some days I forget to use some or all of those tools for a variety of reasons. Using them actually takes more energy than I have some days. And if something really big dominates the news, it will still have an impact on me. The Boston Marathon bombings come to mind.

After I hit “send,” I remembered something a friend wrote not long before she died of cancer. Renee Pelletier Costa wrote about her despair over leaving all the people in her life and how her pastor replied simply, “Then don’t leave.” That statement made her realize that in a world she couldn’t control, she could still use whatever time was left to be a blessing to others.

That was a huge point for me as an OCD sufferer. I can’t control most of what goes on in the world around me, but I can still carry on each day in ways that make the difference to family, friends and colleagues. It can be as simple as saying good morning to someone and holding a door open for them. You can talk to them about their struggles — or better yet, just listen to them. Bring them a coffee. Make them laugh. Any of these things go a long way when someone’s having a shitty day.

The NSA will keep spying on us. Stocks will rise and fall. But none of that can keep me from being there for my family, from playing guitar and doing other things that make life worth living.

To the best of my ability, I choose to be the blessing. What happens from there isn’t up to me.

Boston Marathon Explosion

Waiting Is the Hardest Part

One of my biggest struggles has always been impatience. I hate waiting, whether it’s being stuck in a long line at Starbucks or getting adjusted to life’s changes. Since I recently started a new job, the challenge has grown particularly steep in recent weeks.

Mood music:

It’s all good, really; I’m enjoying the new job. But I’m always obsessed about where I want to be in the process, and that has made for a world of hurt in past jobs. That hurt is usually all in my head, thoughts that run wild and make me sick or irritable.

The normal thing to do is take it a day at a time, learn the ropes and realize that it takes several weeks to start hitting the right groove. But that’s not me. I come in with a long list of what I want to accomplish and get bummed out if I haven’t burned through half the list after the first two weeks. If I write 5 blog posts, I feel like I should have done 10 or 15 by that point. If an idea for a new web page isn’t live a month after I’ve laid down the first design, I start to feel adrift.

If I were a carpenter instead of a writer and editor, I’d be bummed out about not getting an entire house built in the first month.

The reality is that a person usually has plenty of time to get acclimated. Some jobs ramp up faster than others. When I worked in a record store in my early 20s, I only had a few days to learn the ropes. By the end of the first week, I was expected to be restocking shelves and working the cash register.

But that’s retail. In the world of writing and editing, the ramp up is a longer process, especially when you’re doing the job in a setting that is not based on an editorial operation.

What I need to do now is going to take time. Relationships must be made and solidified. Ideas have to go through multiple channels for review. That’s as it should be. Push things through too fast and you’ll create a legacy of half-baked works. Push too hard on people you’re just getting to know, and they’re not going to want to work with you much.

So I’m working on taking the new job a day at a time. Doing so should be easy. My new workmates have made me feel welcome and comfortable.

My only enemy is in my head. He’s an old adversary, and I suppose he’ll always be there. It’s an enemy born of false and impatiently conceptualized expectations. He pushes me to move fast and recklessly. But I can’t let him win.

I’ll be working the coping tools hard in the coming weeks as I find my footing. Waiting is hard. But more often than not, it’s necessary and you have to accept it.

And so I’ll continue trying.

Cracked Glass
Photo Credit: W J (Bill) Harrison via Compfight cc

Look Out Honey, ‘Cause I’m Using Technology

It’s a miracle I’ve survived a decade of writing about information security in my day job, considering how technologically inept I can be.

As I try to set up a new analytics tool for this blog, get accustomed to the daily use of Skype and install work email on my Android, I find that my OCD is off the charts. I keep hearing this in my head:

“Look out honey, ’cause I’m using technology!
Ain’t got time to make no apology.”
—The Stooges, “Search and Destroy”

The Skype and phone issues are actually no big deal, but the analytics tool is making me crazy. There are a million plug-ins so you can better access your site metrics, and all are advertised as easy to use. I’ve downloaded one after the next, carefully following the instructions, only to have them all fail.

Some say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result. I have to admit that’s an accurate statement. I once spent an entire afternoon freaking out over a VPN that kept dropping. That was two jobs and several years ago. I’m much better at dealing with such things now, but I still have smaller explosions.

The answer to these ridiculous episodes is to walk away, to do something else and try again later. But for all my progress in recent years at managing the more disruptive OCD episodes, I have yet to master that one. There’s a chance I never will.

Yet I continue to succeed in the world of technology from a career standpoint. I actually love playing with new tools and programs and have gotten pretty good at doing it, especially on the smartphone. I like to access the guts of the machinery and learn what makes it all tick. And when I figure it out, I feel pretty fucking brilliant.

My big problem is how I can get when I can’t figure it out.

Fortunately, people around me continue to save me from myself. Erin is a natural at setting up and managing all the feeds and coding that drives me to distraction. A friend at work was generous with his time when I needed help configuring some of the programs I’ll now be using daily.

Eventually, I’ll figure out the analytics tools, too.

Until then, I’ll try not to go off the deep end.

Scotty and the Mouse