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Thanks for Everything, Lisa Milso

I spent my high school years angry, unhinged, unmotivated and unsure of how to live my life. So, before attending Salem State University (then Salem State College), I spent a couple of years trying to find myself at North Shore Community College (NSCC).

I took classes mostly at the Lynn campus because it was five minutes from my house. I spent more time in the smoking room than I did in class, and cared more about my long hair and clothes than about what the future might hold. It was a confusing time but also a fun time, which I needed. Indeed, the experience did allow me to sort things out, and I have many people to thank for that — especially Lisa Milso, director of student life.

She was a voice of reason and motivation as I delved into all manner of activities, including a stint on the student government council. She touched countless lives in similar fashion, so I was sad to learn that she passed away Dec. 24.

I’m not sure how she died, but I know from the college’s Facebook page that as an organ donor, she saved seven lives on Christmas Day. That was Lisa, helping people to the end.

The statement from NSCC said in part:

Lisa loved NSCC and our students and proudly served the college for over 28 years. Through her many roles at the college Lisa has personally touched the lives of countless students and alumni and her absence will be deeply missed.

She held that post for 28 years, which is amazing in this day and age, where people switch jobs every few years.

She was a master volunteer, organizing student trips to New Orleans as part of NSCC’s “Labor of Love” initiative, in which students and faculty traveled to New Orleans to help in the continuing effort to rebuild neighborhoods destroyed by Hurricane Katrina a decade ago.

She was a rare gem, the type you can’t replace.

But when I think of all the lives she touched, I know she’ll live on in many people — from those who received her organs to the countless people she helped steer toward productive lives.

Thanks for what you did for me, Lisa. Thanks for what you did for everyone.

Obituary: MILSO, Lisa Anne Of Lexington, Dec. 24, 2015. Lisa is survived by her mother, Theresa Marie Milso (Pace) of Lexington, and by her aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. Director of Student Life at North Shore Community College. Funeral from the Douglass Funeral Home, 51 Worthen Rd. Lexington Monday Jan. 4 at 9am followed by a Mass of Christian burial at St. Brigid Church, Lexington at 10am. Relatives and friends are kindly invited to attend. Visiting hours Sunday from 4pm to 7pm. Donations in her memory may be made to the Lisa Milso Memorial Scholarship Fund, Attn. Tatiana Espinal, Director of Development at tespanoi@northshore.edu. Interment private.

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4 Problems with Krypt3ia’s Krampus List

I like Scot “Krypt3ia” Terban. The security researcher has a crotchety communication method I enjoy, and I read his posts a lot. I especially enjoy when he goes after security vendors for FUD (fear, uncertainty and doubt).

So when he released his annual Krampus List — a naughty list for the security community — I read it and laughed a lot.

But as I read through it, I found some of it mean spirited. By the end I found myself in a familiar quandary: How could I laugh and be disgusted at the same time? My brain has always been a mass of contradictions, and this is just another example.

There’s a razor-thin line between good-natured jabs and outright venom. From my perspective, picking on Boris Sverdlick because he “took his third job in two years and moved his family across the country for the third time” was a good-natured ribbing. He has switched jobs a lot and there’s nothing wrong with that. You gotta go where your heart takes you. But when his adventures are chronicled on Facebook, his friends — myself included — like to pick on him, as good friends often do. He gives as good as he gets.

Picking on Kelly Lum (@aloria) for narcissistic drama and a lack of contributing to the community? That was pretty shitty. Sure, her posts can be dramatic, but the same can be said about most of us. Hell, my posts have been all about family deaths and unfinished family business all year. I’m sure some of you don’t like it, but that’s what has been on my mind and you’re welcome to unfriend me any time. Kelly has been open and honest about dealing with mental illness. She’s done her day job well despite all that and has set a good example for the rest of us. Whine all you want about her not contributing to the community. In my book, the example she sets is a big contribution.

But there are bigger problems with Scot’s list:

  • It’s made up of anonymous submissions. It’s easy to rip on someone when nobody knows who you are: You don’t have to back your comments up. You don’t have to worry about being attacked in kind. That’s awfully convenient — and cowardly.
  • People who make the comments almost certainly spread their own drama. The worst hypocrisy is the kind where the hypocrite doesn’t show their face.
  • People love to bitch about “a lack of contribution” to the security community. I find that odd, because if you’re doing your job well, you are contributing to the community.
  • Terban endorses all the comments. Though it’s made up of anonymous submissions, Terban collects them and distributes them, essentially endorsing the mudslinging. When a lot of people are criticized for talking shit and spreading drama, Terban is spraying bullets inside a glass house.

Infosec is hard. The people it attracts can be difficult to work with, myself included. Since we’re connected to each other by Facebook and Twitter, we’re exposed to each other’s personal drama. None of us are perfect. We all have different ways of contributing to the community, and what’s useless to one person is valuable to another.

Laugh all you like at the Krampus List. But if you don’t see some of yourself in there, you might be part of the problem.

Cyber Krampus Logo

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Pearl Harbor Reflection: Why Does God Let This Happen?

I know some people who hate God right now. One lost a child to illness. Several have simply had a bad run of luck in recent years. They can’t understand why an all-loving God lets bad things happen to them.

I used to be there: When my brother died or when my friend Sean Marley  died. In the aftermath of those events, I wasn’t on speaking terms with God. At other points in my life, like my struggle to contain OCD and addictive behavior, I was talking to God, but nothing coming from my mouth was making much sense. I was rattling off prayers designed to make my life safer and more comfortable.

My relationship with God has gone through changes in recent years. I no longer pray for the safety of everyone I know. I just pray we’ll all have the wisdom to live our lives the way we’re supposed to for whatever length of time we’re going to be around. I’ve come to see life’s body blows not as a punishment but as situations we’re supposed to work through to come out stronger.

To those who ask why it’s worth having faith when there’s always the chance that there’s really nothing there after death, I ask, what’s the alternative? Even if there’s nothing on the other side, I’d still rather live by beliefs that include treating those around me right and striving for good. I’d still rather strive for a clean soul, though I admittedly have a lot of work to do on that one. If there’s nothing on the other side, at least I’ll have taken a shot at being a better person.

But as I’ve said, I do believe.

As part of that, there’s something else I believe: The bad things we go through — and we all go through the bad — is a test. I don’t think certain things are deliberately planned out, like a natural disaster, the death of a loved one or the break-up of a relationship. But I do think we’re tasked with coming out of these things as better people who can come through when others need our help later on. That’s what Mister Rogers was talking about right after 9-11 when he suggested children always watch for the helpers in the face of disaster.

In the movie “Pearl Harbor,” there’s a scene where FDR meets with his military advisors and expresses his desire to strike back at Japan. His advisors give him all the reasons why it can’t be done. Then he mentions the polio that left him in a wheelchair and how he’s spent every hour of his life wondering why God put him in the chair.

Too dramatic? Maybe. This was a product of Hollywood and the scene was probably only loosely based on what really happened.

Still, I can totally picture FDR saying those things. He did say them at various times of his presidency.

His faith helped him deal with some of the biggest challenges mankind had faced up to that point. In that war and wars since then, faith has helped a lot of people push forward with the tasks that terrified them.

They chose to believe despite all the terrible things that happen around here.

So do I.

 fdr_pearl_harbor

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Don’t Be Embarrassed When People Rescue You

I was recently talking to a friend who has had a shitty couple of years, with illness and death in the family. He noted that he’s gotten a lot of support from friends, family and colleagues along the way and that he’s embarrassed about it.

I get where he’s coming from.

Mood music:

Whenever I’ve experienced the things he is going through, I’ve felt a little embarrassed when people come to me with sympathy and offers of support. Some of it is because of pride, and some of it is a fear that people don’t see you as being able to deal with the tough stuff.

As I’ve grown older, though, two things have gotten clearer:

  • If people are supporting you, it’s usually because you’ve supported them at difficult times in their lives, and they are repaying it. It means you’ve touched some lives and made a positive difference. So when you hit hard times, the people you’ve touched feel personally invested in your well being.
  • We all go through tough times and remember that support from others helped us along. And when we can return the favor, it feels good.

This dude has certainly touched a lot of lives. Everyone in our circle has deep affection for him, and he’s earned our support.

Whether I’ve earned the support people have given me along the way is for others to determine. But I’d like to think I have.

To my friend: Hang in there. When people reach out, know that it’s because you’re respected and loved.

Candlelight Yoga

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Nothing Brings Out the Self-Righteous Like a Terrorist Attack

Whenever we see terrible things like the ISIS attacks in Paris, something happens on Facebook: Many people become experts on religion and politics, and still more people get anal when people don’t observe a tragedy exactly as they would. Terror attacks bring out the best in some people. In others, it brings out self-righteous tomfoolery.

Mood music:

https://youtu.be/IN9REo4Le6g

Whatever your political and religious beliefs, the attacks prove that your agenda is the correct one. One guy posted so many memes about Obama being a secret agent for ISIS and the so-called Muslim brotherhood that I almost believed it after a while.

If you had the French flag superimposed over your profile picture, you were a racist for ignoring the attacks that happened a day before in Lebanon. You were an anti-Semite because you didn’t include Israel, which is attacked every day.

If you tried to make the point that terrorists don’t represent the whole of Islam, you got shouted down by the right wing for not accepting that Islam is in itself an evil, savage religion.

If you dared to point out that there is in fact evil in the world and that the bad guys must be destroyed, you got shouted down by the left wing for being intolerant and politically incorrect.

Where do my views fit into all this? As usual, somewhere in the middle.

I don’t believe Islam is in itself an evil religion. I know a lot of people who follow that faith and they are decent people who work hard and want what’s best for their communities. But I don’t think we can ignore the fact that far too many bad guys are twisting Islam to their evil purposes. People of Islam need to be a lot more vocal about it than they have been.

I’m not a gun-toting NRA supporter and I don’t buy into the rhetoric about liberals taking the good guys’ guns away. But I don’t think gun-control laws have helped all that much, since bad people continue to get around those laws.

I believe there is evil in the world, and there always has been. When bad guys plot to kill innocents, the good guys need to kill them first.

I believe that the best thing we can do to make a positive difference in the world is be good to other people. I believe that being good to people requires a whole lot more than putting slogans and statements on Facebook. It requires spending one’s time to do things for others, whether it’s helping them deal with a work-related challenge or a crisis in confidence and faith or helping them get food and other things a lot of us take for granted.

I believe that self-righteous people are generally assholes who have nothing better to do with their time than to put down others who disagree with them. If I ever get like that, I hope someone slaps me down hard.

I also think the vast majority of people are good. When danger strikes, we’ve seen many acts of compassion time and again.

That’s why I still have hope, even when the self-righteous pollute the Internet.

Candelight vigil for Paris

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Target’s OCD Sweater: Funny or Hurtful?

Several people have forwarded me news stories about Target getting flak over an “OCD Christmas” sweater on sale in its stores. The question: am I offended? No.

I do, however, see it as another example of the very thin line between hurtful and humorous.

Mood music:

I don’t think the sweater is particularly clever. It’s just the latest in a long line of attempted OCD humor that falls flat. I love OCD jokes when they are well done, but this doesn’t qualify.

Other OCD sufferers, however, are going to be hurt and anger.

I’ve written many posts about OCD gag gifts, particularly one about OCD hand sanitizer. They describe items that amuse the hell out of me. But I’ve also gotten feedback from readers who worried these gifts and other brands of OCD humor would only reinforce the stigma that keeps people like us in the shadows.

I firmly believe that humor is an important coping tool for someone learning to manage depressive mental disorders. Abraham Lincoln, a chronically depressed man for much of his adult life, relied on it during the darkest days of the Civil War. He reveled in telling jokes and amusing stories. It helped get him through the pain during a time before antidepressants.

But the stigma around OCD is still alive and well. I see people all the time talking about “their OCD” when they’re really talking about their Type-A personalities. That doesn’t bother me much, but I know people with OCD who get wounded by such talk. OCD behavior is still the stuff of ridicule and belittling. People will still make fun of a person’s quirks, which embarrasses and hurts that person when they inevitably find out that they’re being made fun of.

Would people find the gags funny if they were about cancer or heart disease? The truth is that we think differently about physical diseases than mental ones. We understand the ramifications of physical diseases better, making them more socially acceptable. And when a physical disease is a fatal one, we are much less tolerant of jokes about it. Yet people will make jokes about all manner of things for all kinds of reasons.

Most health issues need to be addressed with a combination of sober education and humor. People need to know the suffering real OCD brings about, just as people need to know the anguish a cancer patient experiences.

But we need to laugh at our conditions once in a while, too, because the laughter makes the disease appear smaller, if only for a few moments.

OCD: Obsessive Christmas Disorder

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A Tribute to “Silent Segal”

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my maternal grandfather, Louis Segal. This decorated veteran died 19 years ago, and I keep thinking of the things I wish we could talk about today.

Mood music:

Papa, as we called him, asked me to take him for a ride to the bank the evening before he died. He got into the car and declared that he felt like “the last rose of summer.” I think he knew he was about to go, and wanted to pull out some cash to buy the family breakfast one last time. In the car, he told me and Erin about life as a kid.

The next afternoon, he took one last deep inhale, and that was that. He died in his favorite living room recliner after a very pleasant morning with family. I wasn’t there, but was told about it. He gave one of my cousins a ten-dollar bill just for the hell of it. I don’t remember where I was, but I can tell you that wherever I was, I was thinking about no one but myself. That’s how I was back then.

Papa loved to chomp on a good cigar and eat things that were bad for him. It used to make me angry, but today I think he was just trying to live life to the fullest he could. He had parachuted into France ahead of the D-Day invasion in June of 1944. He was at the Battle of the Bulge that December. He took a bullet or two in the leg in Korea. He boxed in the Army and they called him “Silent Segal” because he would take it on the chin quietly. He also beat down his opponents quietly.

I often wonder what he’d have thought of the movie “Saving Private Ryan,” which came out two years after he died. The beginning of the film is bone-chilling and almost beautiful in its rawness. You see scenes of soldiers lying on the beach with their intestines hanging out and you try with all your mental might to grasp what it must have felt like to be in the middle of that chaos. My grandfather was there, and could have given me the appropriate description.

He liked watching M.A.S.H., as I do. If he were here today, we could laugh over some of the show’s funnier moments. He’d also tell me all the ways the show was bullshit when stacked against reality.

I definitely appreciated him when he was around. He was my Papa and I loved him, after all. But I wish I had engaged him more about the stories of his military service. I was a young punk back then, and like all young punks I was too busy thinking of myself to spend more time with him.

The lesson of this post if to appreciate the older people in your life. Hug them. Learn from them. Enjoy their stories.

And, if you’re into it, smoke a cigar with them.

Thanks, Papa, for your many years of service.

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Starbucks, Christmas and Misguided People

This is from the “people need to get a life” file. It will be my only statement on this uproar over Starbucks’ red coffee cups.

My faith is well documented in this blog. I go to church just about every Sunday, and my family is heavily involved in parish activities. To me, the “War on Christmas” rhetoric has always been a stupid distraction — just another thing for people to get whiny and self-righteous about. This coffee cup controversy is simply more of the same.

Starbucks has never put anything religious on its cups; its holiday cup designs mostly focus on winter themes and Santa Claus. Nor should it venture into religious territory: Starbucks customers are of all creeds and colors. There’s no Star of David or Buddha designs on the drinkware, either, but you don’t hear about that from Christian extremists. All they care about is that their personal brand of faith be present in the marketing.

Exhibit A is this guy. He claims to be a big evangelical personality online, though I’ve never heard of him before this. He’s very proud of himself because he went into a Starbucks and told them his name was Merry Christmas so they’d write it on his cup. He even brags that he brought his gun into the store, because nothing drives home the Christian message of “Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men” like a firearm.

Even Donald Trump is getting in on the action, telling supporters to boycott Starbucks over this. Because, you know, Trump has always worn his faith on his sleeve.

https://youtu.be/E54DAlBqiFM

“If I become president, we’re all going to be saying Merry Christmas again. That I can tell you,” Trump declared. He must have discovered some way to control our minds and make us say certain things.

Fortunately, most people in my network are seeing this for what it is: a non-issue.

It’s telling that while I’ve seen a bunch of headlines about Christians freaking out about this,  I haven’t seen s single Facebook post with Christians actually raging about Starbucks cups.

And therein lies the problem with social media: One or two lunkheads make a fuss about something, and the good people of Facebook and Twitter translate it into a fuss by whole movements and organizations.

The human race is a puzzling one.

Jesus holding a Starbucks cup

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How to Be Kind Without Being Pwned

Someone once told me that being kind to others is a great weapon against depression. Be good to others and you’ll feel better yourself. There’s truth to that. I’ve also discovered that kindness must be delivered in blunt and unpleasant forms on occasion.

Mood music:

My idea of kindness was always to be nice to people and do things to help them feel better. A lot of the time that was good enough. But there are always those who take advantage of it. They keep leaning on you do do things for them. In some cases, they’ll return your kindness with meanness. At that end of the spectrum, you run the risk of being a slave to the person you’re trying to help.

In those cases, my instinct has usually been to get pissed and sever ties. But over time, I’ve learned that kindness has something in common with a lot of charitable acts: If you keep doing for people, they never learn to do for themselves. They just learn to remain dependent on others and continue to drop verbal poison.

I’ve tried to be the guy that frustrated friends, relatives and co-workers can dump on. But that doesn’t help them get beyond the stuff that makes them miserable. Better to help them learn how to deal things.

Maybe that means telling them matter-of-factly that the way they do their job isn’t working, and then suggest ideas for doing the job more effectively. Or that their method for dealing with a difficult family member isn’t working.

If I were miserable in my work and the root of the problem was my own lousy planning or lack of understanding, I’d much rather have someone tell me that so I can do something about it. Otherwise, all I learn to do is keep dumping on people.

This is something I still have to work on. Telling someone to go screw is a lot more satisfying sometimes than guiding them through the fog. But it’s a satisfaction that doesn’t last. Then you feel like shit.

I’d rather be the useful sort of kind friend than the enabling sort.

battle scars by eddietheyeti

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With Burnout Comes Wisdom (If You Survive)

I’ve devoted several posts to combatting career burnout, particularly in the information security industry. But something recently occurred to me: Burnout can be a good thing, but only if you survive.

Mood music:

The thought came to me after talking to a fellow industry veteran and work colleague. We’ve seen friends younger than us either setting themselves up for the fall or crashing to Earth after burning to a crisp.

My friend knows burnout. So do I. We’ve survived it and are better for it. You don’t often hear about how survivors of burnout become better and stronger. There’s wisdom to be had.

Personal lessons:

  • Accepting more responsibility without more pay seems OK when you’re young, but it’s not. When I was in my 20s and eager to advance my young journalism career, I didn’t think about money. I just wanted to get the job. I assumed that with good work, better pay would follow. All I did was show the bosses that they could keep throwing more weight on me and I’d take it. I nearly destroyed my health in the process.
  • Being a people pleaser is dumb. My current employers treat me well, but I’ve been in jobs where I put everything else in life aside to do more work. I wanted to be the golden boy so badly that I let precious relationships suffer along with my health. As I got older I realized the top brass didn’t put in nearly as much time as I did. I ultimately discovered two things: The best corporate leaders learn to prioritize tasks and keep their eyes on the big stuff. The worst simply ride the backs of minions who won’t say no.
  • Working 90 hours a week and loving it? I didn’t think so. Those who know the history of Apple have heard about the “90 Hours a Week and Loving It” shirts that made the rounds back in the ’80s. It was based on Steve Jobs boasting about his people working those kinds of hours. When you’re in your 20s it’s easy to fall into the trap. I certainly did. But all those extra hours left me with a whole lot of loneliness and depression.
  • Living on your knees will cripple you. As a young man, I was terrified of the punishment bosses would deliver if I ever disagreed with them. Part of the mindset was well intentioned. I knew enough complainers to know that I didn’t like them. The part I missed was that you CAN disagree. The key is to suggest alternative ideas and steer clear of empty whining that only focuses on why something is bad. Even if you don’t always hit the mark, it’s better than letting disagreements in procedure eat you alive.

Set boundaries. Put family and health first. Stand up for yourself. Spend  your time on that and you just might survive the burnout periods.

90 Hours a Week and Loving It