A friend and colleague announced via Facebook and Twitter that he has thyroid cancer.
Larry Cashdollar — an Akamai security researcher I like to call “The Almighty Cashdollar” — was tested a few weeks ago, and I know he’s been worried. Now, at least, he knows what he’s up against.
Mood music:
He wrote:
I have thyroid #cancer. I’ve been waiting for the last week for my biopsy results and the doctor called today.
As cancers go, the thyroid variety is among the most easily beaten. I know quite a few people who had it and, since surgery, have been cancer free.
Larry is tough. I’ve seen it in his workmanship. This is a guy who continued trying to do security research while lying in a hospital bed with pneumonia.
He has a good sense of humor. One of the first conversations I had with him was at dinner during last summer’s Black Hat hacker conference. We had a lot of laughs that night, and humor is the greatest weapon we have in a world gone mad.
He’s prevailed against the tough stuff before. Did I mention he tried to keep working from a hospital bed once? The dude is crazy, and you can’t beat crazy.
He has a lot of people pulling for him at home and work.
Now that you have an answer, I know you’re going to overcome this in short order, my friend.
I look forward to writing about your security research again. I doubt I’ll be waiting long.
Y’all know I’ve long been obsessed about the Tate-LaBianca murders. But let’s be clear: All those stories about the spirits of Sharon Tate and Jay Sebring haunting a house a few doors down from where the murders took place? I don’t buy any of it.
Mood music:
http://youtu.be/5fvJEpdq8a8
The claim has been made by David Oman, whose home has been the subject of a Ghost Hunters episode and several other news reports.
Oman has been all too eager to invite people to his “haunted house” and those who’ve been there claim to have seen and heard strange things. But when you put someone in the spotlight, they’re bound to tell the world anything. They may even want to believe it so badly that they end up thinking they saw things that weren’t really there.
Now the house is in an episode of Ghost Adventures. People talk about having been being overcome with depression as they drove up the private way to Oman’s house. And Oman and others say the strange happenings are about more than the Tate hauntings. The site is also a Native American burial ground and a hotbed of paranormal activity, they say.
I remain skeptical. First of all, I drove up and down that street three times and never experienced any weird feelings. Secondly, Oman produced a movie loosely based on the murders called House at the End of the Drive, and I can’t help but suspect all the ghost stories are publicity to pump up the film.
There is also the fact that a lot of other residents in that neighborhood have never experienced anything abnormal.
It annoys me how people continue to exploit five murder victims who didn’t deserve the cards they were dealt. It seems we refuse to let them rest in peace.
If Oman ever invited me into his house — and I doubt he ever would — I’d go in. I’d even spend the night. One, because I’m curious. Two, because I’m always open to the possibility that I’m wrong. If I were proven wrong, I’d write about it.
But I’m not holding my breath.
Photo by Bill Brenner. The big mansion on the left is where Sharon Tate’s house once stood. Oman’s house is on the far right.
A mom from Kalamazoo, Mich., created a Facebook page for her son called “Happy Birthday Colin.” She did so after he told her he had no friends to invite to his upcoming birthday celebration. Colin has issues that are similar to autism, though his specific diagnoses are not yet public. Given my youngest son’s challenges on that front — not to mention my own — this squeezed my heart. What follows is an open letter to Colin.
Mood music:
Dear Colin:
Because of the mental and physical challenges you face, some people have trouble figuring you out. Some classmates and their parents may not be comfortable around you. They mean no harm. It’s just that, unfortunately, human beings often react foolishly to things they don’t understand.
I experienced that as a kid, though probably not to the degree you are experiencing now. Some of the kids who made fun of me back then are good friends today. Because we eventually grow up and learn to understand and even appreciate our differences.
If I’ve learned anything in my own journey, it’s that you can’t always hide from hurt and disappointment. Life is hard. But it’s supposed to be.
It’s how we find out what we’re truly made of.
Item:Franklin Delano Roosevelt was a pampered child whose worldview changed when he was crippled by polio in 1921. A lot of people would have given up right there, but he rebuilt his life, became a mentor to other polio victims and was the longest-serving president in history, dealing with war and economic calamity that could have broken the spirit of healthier leaders. Through it all, he carried on an outward cheeriness that put people at ease.
When I was a kid there were plenty of roadblocks. I missed a lot of school because of Crohn’s Disease and lost a brother when I was only a couple of years older than you are now. My studies suffered, and I was put in a lot of the classes where they put the problem children.
Things worked out, though. I got married and had two kids that are much smarter than I was at that age. I have a job that’s allowed me to do a lot of excellent things (excellent to me, anyway).
You shouldn’t settle for anything less than the life you want. And you shouldn’t resign yourself to the idea that you can’t have good friends.
Item:Abraham Lincoln suffered crippling depression his whole life and lost two of his four children, all in a time before anti-depressants were around. He led the Union through the Civil War and ended slavery.
There will be setbacks and those can be discouraging, but you CAN survive them with the right perspective. Be patient with those around you and they will come around someday.
Item: The drummer from Def Leppard had an arm ripped off in a car wreck. A lot of people thought his career was over. Twenty-six years later, he’s still drumming.
Just keep trying, and never give up on yourself. Nobody can hold you back. Only YOU can hold yourself back.
One more thing: Having a good life doesn’t mean you get to live without the bad stuff from time to time.
It’s easy for people who fight mental illness and neurological disorders to go on an endless, futile search for the happily ever after, where you somehow find the magic bullet to murder your demons, thus beginning years of bliss and carefree existence.
There’s no such thing as happily ever after.
That’s OK.
I believe in you. Your mom certainly believes in you.
Since this blog is part memoir, I worry about misremembering the past when I write about it. I’m obsessed with truth and recall things to the best of my recollection. But I know that for every memory I share, someone out there will remember things differently.
A Daily Beast article reminds me that I’m right to be obsessive about honesty.
Mood music:
http://youtu.be/_FPBi9N9hNc
The article notes how terrifyingly easy it is for therapists and investigators to plant false memories in a person as they lob one question after the next in an ironic attempt to get to the truth. From the article:
In the real world false memories can result from well-meaning investigators asking leading questions, from therapists trying to uncover hidden truths, and yes, from distraught parents engaged in acrimonious divorce proceedings. …
It’s important to point out that a false memory is different from a lie. Liars know what really happened, but claim something different. People with false memories honestly believe what they’re saying—there is no intent to deceive. They’re just wrong about what actually happened, for predictable reasons.
There’s some comfort in knowing that you’re not lying if you misremember. But that’s cold comfort to someone who remembers an event differently and feels you have lied about them.
All I can do is keep recounting things to the best of my ability. And I try to always put a disclaimer in posts saying that I’m writing my memory of something, not necessarily the unvarnished truth.
That said, the article prompted me to think back on my own therapy in search of times when a therapist’s questions may have led me to a false memory.
My therapists have helped me a lot, and their approach has always been to ask me questions but not steer me in one direction or another. They’ve typically asked general questions and let me talk from there. If any false memories have been created, it would have been during follow-up questioning. But none of my therapists have questioned me aggressively.
I’ve also always approached therapy in a somewhat standoffish fashion, skeptical of any suggestion they give me. I’ve approached my appointments that way specifically because I didn’t want to be led wrong by their feedback. Therapists are human, after all, and I do know people whose therapists filled their minds with a bunch of bunk.
Up to this point, I think my strategy has worked. Still, you never know when you might be remembering something differently than how things really went down.
Fortunately, many people who were there have told me they remember events much the same way. But some have recalled a different version of events. Whenever they do, it’s my job to think long and hard about their version versus mine, and, whenever necessary, to correct the record.
Friday afternoon I didn’t feel right. It was as if an anvil had been strapped to my chest. Breathing was labored. My face had that pins-and-needles sensation. I had to use the bathroom a couple times in short sequence. I’m pretty sure it was an anxiety attack.
Mood music:
I used to get them all the time, and overcoming them has been a central theme of this blog. I’ve largely controlled the attacks with Prozac and Wellbutrin.
Truth is, before Friday I can’t remember the last time I experienced one. That it came on with such force was more than a little distressing.
I don’t have to think too hard to figure out where it came from. I’ve been under a lot of stress. I’ve been doing a lot of driving the kids around. There are appointments everywhere on the calendar I look. My sleep is erratic. As great as work is going, I’m managing the endgame for a huge project I’ve been working on since early June and much is at stake.
All good things, but stressful nonetheless.
Friday the attack started while Erin and I were sitting in the accountant’s office, where we were getting our taxes done. The appointment was taking longer than expected, and we had to pick the kids up from school. I worried about the traffic and then fretted about having to go right back out to pick up trophies for a Cub Scout awards ceremony. I was thinking about things I wanted to do Saturday night, worrying about all the different ways those plans could be derailed.
It’s also February, when I start worrying about bad weather and family crises getting in the way of the biggest security conference of the year. Last year I was driven to distraction by that very worry, though that was more low-level anxiety, not an outright attack.
I have some work to do, untangling the various emotions and putting my coping tools to effective use. Back when these attacks were a twice-weekly problem I didn’t have the tools I have now. I’m also much better aware of the symptoms and at zeroing in on the triggers.
That’s something to be thankful for, and I am.
Like the rest of my demons, this is a life-long adversary to be kept in check. And so it will be.
When CVS Pharmacy announced it would stop selling tobacco products last week, most people were either supportive or indifferent. Then there were a few suggesting the chain is a loyal foot soldier of the so-called nanny state; telling people what they can and can’t buy.
Mood music:
Most of the discontent is over at Fox News, where The Real Story host Gretchen Carlson asked her guests, “Is it OK legally … to restrict tobacco availability in a private store like this? For people who smoke, you know, they have a right to buy cigarettes. It’s not illegal.”
Fox Business pundits Neil Cavuto and Melissa Francis bemoaned the slippery slope CVS was traveling down, asking what’s next: Ring Dings? Doritos?
Everyone is entitled to their opinion. Here’s mine:
CVS has the right to decide what it will and won’t sell — whether it’s tobacco or junk food. People who don’t like it can shop elsewhere.
People do have the right to buy cigarettes. I myself use e-cigs and usually buy them at one of my local gas stations. People can buy their junk food pretty much anywhere.
The freedom to abuse oneself won’t end because CVS has gone down this path.
Frankly, I think CVS showed balls in nixing tobacco. In the short term, at least, the decision is going to cut into its bottom line. It’s choosing to strip itself to the roots and strengthen its hand as a company that deals in health. Good for CVS.
Even if it were bad for the company, so what? The owners can do what they want. Because, you know, theirs IS a private company.
I finally got around to watching the Coca-Cola “America the Beautiful” ad that made so many people angry. So now I ask you: What’s the big deal?
http://youtu.be/443Vy3I0gJs
I usually avoid debates about immigration and whether people should learn to speak English in order to live here. There’s no winning debates like that. It’s a classic liberal vs. conservative argument. Those who feel strongly one way or the other are set in their views and will fly into a rage anytime someone presents a different opinion.
This commercial, originally shown during last weekend’s Super Bowl, sparked all the old outcries, including this from conservative commentator Glenn Beck:
“So somebody tweeted last night and said, ‘Glenn, what did you think of the Coke ad?,’ Beck said in a segment flagged by BuzzFeed. “And I said, ‘Why did you need that to divide us politically?’ Because that’s all this ad is. It’s in your face, and if you don’t like it, if you’re offended by it, you’re a racist. If you do like it, you’re for immigration. You’re for progress. That’s all this is: to divide people.”
Thing is, I look at this commercial and think nothing about politics. Nor do I think about Immigration Reform. I don’t think about the merits of speaking English only. I don’t think about Democrats or Republicans.
I simply see a video celebrating America’s diversity. Spanish isn’t the only language covered. It captures languages from around the world, representing all the world’s cultures. It celebrates the melting pot that is the U.S.A. Scores of cultures, living together.
There’s nothing political about it.
The only reason this ad has sparked controversy is because the typical voices from the extreme ends of the political spectrum chose to make a big deal about nothing.
Leave it to someone like Beck to take an ad promoting togetherness and turn it into a tirade about divisiveness.
Mötley Crüe and Sixx AM bassist Nikki Sixx has always been a hero of mine, largely because of the raw honesty he displays when writing about his addictions. Yesterday on his radio show, he discussed the death of actor Philip Seymour Hoffman.
Mood music:
http://youtu.be/7CHHoDDTJdU
The hardest thing for Sixx to swallow is that Hoffman was clean and sober for more than 20 years before he relapsed. Sixx has been sober since 2001. Before that, he had slipped on drugs several times after having been clean for a few years.
I’m sure it also wasn’t easy to hear that Hoffman died with a needle still in his arm. Sixx was fortunate enough to wake up with the needle in his arm in 1987, when he finally decided he couldn’t take it anymore.
Indeed, Hoffman’s death has generated a lot of discussion. Yesterday I wrote about how addiction was a disease that many people don’t understand.
Yet I don’t believe addicts should be blithely excused for every failure because they have this monkey on their back.
Actions have consequences. Hoffman leaves behind three kids who needed him and an army of people who were heavily invested in him. People have a right to be angry about that.
Sometimes we’re so beaten down that we’re no longer in our right mind. That’s when we make sorry, costly choices. And as anyone who has cleaned up after addiction knows, the only right path is the one where personal responsibility is everything.
Addicts shouldn’t get a free pass. It’s quite the opposite, really. If you can’t be real with yourself about your demons, you’re doomed to make bad choices, including the deadly ones.
But as I said yesterday, we also need to understand that this is a battle. No matter how strong you are, it only takes a second to let your guard down. That’s when the fatal bullet hits you between the eyes.
Some say actor-director Philip Seymour Hoffman doesn’t deserve sympathy. He didn’t have cancer or other diseases people get without choice. He died because he chose to shoot up.
It’s the kind of statement you get from folks who have been fortunate not to have suffered from addiction. They may know people who are afflicted, but because they can’t identify with the sufferer, they delve into misconceptions.
Mood music:
http://youtu.be/fi2XCsPKlY8
Hoffman was found dead over the weekend from an apparent overdose. News reports say the heroin needle was still in his arm. One friend on Facebook reacted with this comment:
I’m a little torn between saying Philip Seymour Hoffman was a really great actor and that I have zero sympathy for someone who overdoses.
I added my two cents, saying he had a disease and lost the fight. (He had sought help in the past, including rehab, to no avail.) To that, someone else responded:
Sorry, but while addiction may be euphemistically framed as a “disease” it starts with a choice and ultimately ends with one. If only every other disease were so convenient. I’m guessing we’d see a lot less childhood leukemia, multiple sclerosis, diabetes… etc.
It’s true: Addiction is not a disease the way those other maladies are. Childhood cancers and MS are certainly not things you can blame the patient for getting. At the other end of the spectrum are true diseases that are indeed the result of bad choices. Eat too much, exercise too little and smoke, and you risk getting any number of diseases.
Then there’s addiction.
Having suffered from it over the years, I see it the way I see depression and anxiety: mental illnesses that are affected by good and bad choices but not the direct result of carelessness. It often starts with a bad choice: The choice to try a line of coke or an injection of heroin. Sometimes the circumstances are more muddled. My binge eating addiction is complicated by the fact that we need food to survive. The interplay between food, Crohn’s Disease and a prescription drug called Prednisone slowly corrupted my approach to food to the point where having it become an obsession. Obsession is often the path to addiction.
Once you become addicted to something, the urge to get a fix stops feeling like a choice. It becomes a matter of life and death — real or imagined. It controls you and laughs at your feeble attempts to resist. That’s the nature of the demon that killed Hoffman. It wasn’t about being smart or stupid.
I liken the reaction people have to his death to that of a suicide victim. When news of a suicide spreads, the reaction usually goes something like this: “How could he be so stupid? He had everything to live for.”
Statements like that come from people who have no idea how depression works. Statements that Hoffman was an idiot for sticking a needle in his arm come from people who have no clue about how addiction takes over a person and controls their every move.
To those who can make the right choices and escape addiction: Good for you. I wouldn’t wish addiction on my worst enemy. It hurts. It’s demeaning. It’s a thief.
I’m not going to tell you not to judge. Who am I to tell you what to do?
I will suggest that on the subject of this latest tragedy, you don’t know what you’re talking about.
Columnists have gone nuts since Beyoncé and husband Jay Z performed “Drunk in Love” at the Grammys. The song is about them having steamy, drunken sex. Nothing more, nothing less. Yet we can’t help pontificating about what it says of their marriage.
Here’s the Grammy Performance:
http://youtu.be/LaVeoJt0jfI
Here’s the official video, which is dirtier:
Debate over this song illustrates how we tend to overthink things.
Alyssa Rosenberg raved about the powerful case Beyoncé and Jay Z made for marriage in a Think Progress article:
Beyoncé Knowles-Carter and Jay-Z got on the Grammy stage last night and did what conservatives have been dying for someone to do for ages: they made marriage look fun, and sexy, and a source of mutual professional fulfillment.
On the other hand, New York Post writer Naomi Schaefer Riley declares that Jay-Z is a shitty husband:
For years, these award ceremonies have pushed the envelope; Beyoncé’s booty-shaking was certainly no worse than Miley Cyrus’s twerking or any number of other performances by Madonna, for instance. But there’s something particularly icky about doing it while your husband looks on approvingly.
“Honestly, I didn’t want to watch Jay Z and Beyoncé’s foreplay,” says Charlotte Hays, author of “When Did White Trash Become the New Normal?” Indeed, the happy couple seems to have completely blurred the line between what goes on in their bedroom and what happens on national TV. So much for the woman that Michelle Obama has called “a role model who kids everywhere can look up to.”
Too much information? Maybe. Does it prove Jay Z is a pig whose idea of a strong marriage is exploiting his wife? Not really. Long before these two hooked up, they were performers who never shied away from controversy. Riley suggests Beyoncé is a victim. She doesn’t give the singer nearly enough credit for controlling her image and destiny.
Another line of debate concerns this lyric from Jay Z in the song: “Eat the cake, Anna Mae.” Beyoncé joins in on the rap, which alludes to a scene in the 1993 Tina Turner biopic What’s Love Got to Do With It? where abusive husband and musical partner Ike Turner forces cake on his wife in the prelude to another violent blow up:
http://youtu.be/DadlLq2yrBw
Is one line of a song proof that he espouses domestic abuse? Hardly. Since the beginning of time we’ve heard musicians sing of love publicly while being abusive in their relationships. We’ve also heard musicians talk tough in song and be anything but offstage.
The thing is, sometimes a sex song is just a sex song.
Photo by Bill Brenner. The big mansion on the left is where Sharon Tate’s house once stood. Oman’s house is on the far right.
