Craig Hamrick
October 9, 1966-September 24, 2006
I'll miss you, buddy.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Failure to Launch Syndrome
As I have mentioned before here, I enjoy reading books on psychology. I am particularly well versed on the subject of depression, bi-polor and uni-polar illness and issues of anxiety.
I just started reading another book, a more clinical one, on ADHD and the cluster of issues that develop adjacent to the condition. In this one chapter, the author talks about the impact of failure on the pysche. The reason conditions such as ADHD and depression become an issue is the fact they are obstacles to obtaining happiness and satisfaction in many areas of life. This certainly is not a new thought. What didn't really occur to me is the necessity to recover from the impact of failure and humiliation.
Yes, it is humiliating if you are one of a group of people involved in a project and the only one who can't seem to keep straight certain elements or forget what you were just told to do. You are looked upon as if your brain never made it to your skull. And you can't explain it to people either.
Decades of such experiences take their toll and you can not even realize it. I certainly didn't really think about it until I started reading this book. I know I can recall failures and humiliations easily and relive them at times. The feeling is still fresh. I have to really delve into my subsconscious and analyze just how past failures and humiliations have affected me
I know during my adolescence I had a terrible time of things. The only salvation I had was that I was recognized as being a good writer, athlete and performer even by those who didn't like me. Otherwise, I was someone who, with my short hair, could initially appear to be a girl or a boy and when I walked along the road if a busload of kids went by, they would sometimes "bark" at me. I was called "a dog" more than once. This memory has indeed imbedded the notion in my very bones that I am not attractive. I do have moments where I look in the mirror and think that I am but those moments are fleeting. Has it affected relationships since that time? I'm not really sure. I know I have a bit of an inferiority complex though it is not as pronounced as it once was. I think I have masked some feelings about all this by pretending to have self-confidence. I have pretended for so long that most people I know tell me that I appear to be very confident. But I'm not. Sometimes I even fool myelf into thinking I am confident about something.
I want to find cognitive exercises that will allow me to explore what I have discussed above about myself and see what I can discover.
I just started reading another book, a more clinical one, on ADHD and the cluster of issues that develop adjacent to the condition. In this one chapter, the author talks about the impact of failure on the pysche. The reason conditions such as ADHD and depression become an issue is the fact they are obstacles to obtaining happiness and satisfaction in many areas of life. This certainly is not a new thought. What didn't really occur to me is the necessity to recover from the impact of failure and humiliation.
Yes, it is humiliating if you are one of a group of people involved in a project and the only one who can't seem to keep straight certain elements or forget what you were just told to do. You are looked upon as if your brain never made it to your skull. And you can't explain it to people either.
Decades of such experiences take their toll and you can not even realize it. I certainly didn't really think about it until I started reading this book. I know I can recall failures and humiliations easily and relive them at times. The feeling is still fresh. I have to really delve into my subsconscious and analyze just how past failures and humiliations have affected me
I know during my adolescence I had a terrible time of things. The only salvation I had was that I was recognized as being a good writer, athlete and performer even by those who didn't like me. Otherwise, I was someone who, with my short hair, could initially appear to be a girl or a boy and when I walked along the road if a busload of kids went by, they would sometimes "bark" at me. I was called "a dog" more than once. This memory has indeed imbedded the notion in my very bones that I am not attractive. I do have moments where I look in the mirror and think that I am but those moments are fleeting. Has it affected relationships since that time? I'm not really sure. I know I have a bit of an inferiority complex though it is not as pronounced as it once was. I think I have masked some feelings about all this by pretending to have self-confidence. I have pretended for so long that most people I know tell me that I appear to be very confident. But I'm not. Sometimes I even fool myelf into thinking I am confident about something.
I want to find cognitive exercises that will allow me to explore what I have discussed above about myself and see what I can discover.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
Is this Disproving a Point???
Muslims worldwide have been angered by remarks the pope made in a lecture last week that they said portrayed Islam as a religion tainted by violence and irrationality.
Since that time, mobs of Muslims have taken to the street basically rioting over a remark (somewhat taken out of context) that the Pope made in a lecture. In Turkey Muslim workers are demanding the arrest of the Pope for the remark. Violence has flared and been threatened elsewhere over this same remark.
I'm glad these Muslims were able to disprove the Pope's remark . . . NOT!
Since that time, mobs of Muslims have taken to the street basically rioting over a remark (somewhat taken out of context) that the Pope made in a lecture. In Turkey Muslim workers are demanding the arrest of the Pope for the remark. Violence has flared and been threatened elsewhere over this same remark.
I'm glad these Muslims were able to disprove the Pope's remark . . . NOT!
Monday, September 18, 2006
Don't Fear the Reaper
One of my favorite songs, in fact - "Don't Fear the Reaper."
But my thoughts have been with the terrible situation my friend Craig Hamrick finds himself in right now. I don't think he is quite 40 years old and as I write this, he is in a New York City hospice with terrible odds of being able to beat the latest assault to his system. The colon cancer that was discovered four years ago did appear to be something he could beat though it was advanced upon its discover. Craig underwent every conceivable type of treatment and there were high hopes along the way as chemo managed to beat back the cancer, but down the road the cancer would return moving through his body to the point now it is almost everywhere in his system.
Last Monday he was given weeks to live, then his health became even worse by the following day to the point where his family from Kansas were advised to come.
What do you do during a vigil? Mutual friends keep each other company and updated with any developments via phone or email. I can't stop thinking about Craig's situation or the terrible pain his family, closest friends and life partner are enduring right now. Craig told me about two years ago that if he was not able to beat the cancer, he could go out feeling good about how he lived his life and grateful that he had the chance to do everything he set out to do. I understand that satisfaction as I can say the same thing (though I have new goals I'm working towards).
There is so much more to do and it is not likely Craig is going to be able to do pursue those new goals. That is what makes us - his friends - so sad and angry.
I can't help but think of my dear friend Dean Wilson who died almost two years ago. He had a sudden illness, was hospitalized, and two hours after I had a hilarious phone conversation with him, Dean succumbed to a massive heartattack and died. He was only 40 years old. Another friend of mine passed away quite unexpectedly in January 2001 and he was only in his early 50s.
In instances like this you are reminded of all the good things you have and how damned lucky you are to have your health. Craig made peace with the fact the cancer would probably kill him and how I admire him for that. How easy it is to be bitter and have the "why me?!" thing going on. But Craig didn't do any of that. Obviously he would rather not have the cancer however he does and he made the best of what life he had each given day. He felt himself fortunately to have met the man he called his "soul mate" in the talented Joe Salvatore.
Making the best out of death and dying. I'm sure the late Elisabeth Kubler-Ross wrote on that topic but right now I can't think of a single thing she said.
I feel like an open wound.
My the Lord move swiftly to take or relieve you, my friend. You will never be far from our thoughts.
But my thoughts have been with the terrible situation my friend Craig Hamrick finds himself in right now. I don't think he is quite 40 years old and as I write this, he is in a New York City hospice with terrible odds of being able to beat the latest assault to his system. The colon cancer that was discovered four years ago did appear to be something he could beat though it was advanced upon its discover. Craig underwent every conceivable type of treatment and there were high hopes along the way as chemo managed to beat back the cancer, but down the road the cancer would return moving through his body to the point now it is almost everywhere in his system.
Last Monday he was given weeks to live, then his health became even worse by the following day to the point where his family from Kansas were advised to come.
What do you do during a vigil? Mutual friends keep each other company and updated with any developments via phone or email. I can't stop thinking about Craig's situation or the terrible pain his family, closest friends and life partner are enduring right now. Craig told me about two years ago that if he was not able to beat the cancer, he could go out feeling good about how he lived his life and grateful that he had the chance to do everything he set out to do. I understand that satisfaction as I can say the same thing (though I have new goals I'm working towards).
There is so much more to do and it is not likely Craig is going to be able to do pursue those new goals. That is what makes us - his friends - so sad and angry.
I can't help but think of my dear friend Dean Wilson who died almost two years ago. He had a sudden illness, was hospitalized, and two hours after I had a hilarious phone conversation with him, Dean succumbed to a massive heartattack and died. He was only 40 years old. Another friend of mine passed away quite unexpectedly in January 2001 and he was only in his early 50s.
In instances like this you are reminded of all the good things you have and how damned lucky you are to have your health. Craig made peace with the fact the cancer would probably kill him and how I admire him for that. How easy it is to be bitter and have the "why me?!" thing going on. But Craig didn't do any of that. Obviously he would rather not have the cancer however he does and he made the best of what life he had each given day. He felt himself fortunately to have met the man he called his "soul mate" in the talented Joe Salvatore.
Making the best out of death and dying. I'm sure the late Elisabeth Kubler-Ross wrote on that topic but right now I can't think of a single thing she said.
I feel like an open wound.
My the Lord move swiftly to take or relieve you, my friend. You will never be far from our thoughts.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Shakespeare anyone?
What is wrong with this man?
Check his website for a video "performance." http://www.jonathanfrid.com
Check his website for a video "performance." http://www.jonathanfrid.com
Monday, September 11, 2006
9/11: The Day I Almost Lost My Mother
Actually, not just my mother but my aunt and my cousin's wife.
The plan was that Mom, my Aunt Joan and Diane would go on the 8:30 tour of the White House they had planned while on their trip to Washington, D.C. Later in the day, they were to head up to New York City to stay with me and see The Lion King on Broadway. I was working at HBO in Times Square and made plans to leave early that day and take the next two days off to entertain Diane, my aunt and mother. Diane and Aunt Joan lived in the State of Washington and this would be Diane's first trip to the Big Apple.
I took the subway to work from my home in Riverdale and got off at the Times Square station as usual. When I got out of the subway station and walked to the end of the block at the street light, I put my walkman on and noticed how blue and clear the sky was. Fall, one of my favorite seasons, was fast approaching.
The DJ was saying something about a small plane having crashed into one of the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Well, I don't need to do a narrative about what happened next; it's forever seared in our collective memory. I want to pick this up where there were airplanes in the sky still unaccounted for and the theory was that more hijackers had taken over plans and planned on targeting the Capitol Building or the White House. The Pentagon had already been attacked.
My panic momentarily blinded me. I couldn't think or speak as I realized my mother was probably still on her tour of the White House - a likely terrorist target if ever one existed - and once I came out of my initial panic, I started dialing her cell phone and did so for the next 90 minutes until I was finally able to get a line out. By this time, of course, the White House had been evacuated and Mom witnessed men in black outfits, seemingly SWAT-team type people, circling at the top of the White House. Mom saw smoke billowing from behind and thought there was a fire or something hence their being evacuated.
Out on the streets, however, cars had pulled over to the side of the curb and drivers opened the doors so others on the sidewalk could hear the awful news on the radio that the World Trade Center had been destroyed, the Pentagon attacked, and another aircraft had reported crashed somewhere near Pittsburgh. Later we would learn that Flight 93, the plane that crashed in a field, was to be used as a missle against the Capitol Building or the White House . . . the White House where my mother and other family members were visiting. The White House that would have certainly been destroyed had it taken a direct hit from a commercial airliner.
Mom, Joan and Diane managed to get quick and safe passage to their car and out of Washington, D.C. The terrible panic I felt for those 90 minutes not being able to contact my mother, knowing she was in harm's way, is the worst panic I have ever felt in my life. I feared that I was going to lose her, my aunt and Diane. That was not to be, however, but we all certainly lose a great day on that terrible day 5 years ago.
Two images are forever emblazoned in my memory: the first is holding my father's hand as he took his last breath and the other when the second Tower collapsed. The way that second tower buckled and fell, aerial too, is a haunting image that took a very long time to not flash in my mind several times a day.
Thankfully I have only a "could have lost" to contend with rather than mourning the death of a loved one or friend. I'm grateful for that.
Update: The News Journal of Wilmington, Delaware published the written memories of Delawareans on 9/11 and a letter my mother wrote of her experience was published. It is being republished here with her permission and a link to the special letter section of today's edition.
'Get out for your own safety'
September 11 dawned a beautiful day in Washington DC as relatives from the state of Washington, a friend and I handed our tickets to the guard for our 8:00 tour of the White House. After seeing the magnificent rooms, we gathered outside under the portico to take pictures when we saw a group of military personnel with weapons drawn running up the driveway. Guards suddenly started screaming at the tourists to 'get out, right now, get out for your own safety!' As we were rushed off the White House grounds we could see men on the roof manning what looked like anti-aircraft guns, and then many police cars and fire engines. People were pouring out of the White House. Behind it we could see a column of smoke from what we found out later was from the burning Pentagon. My cell phone rang, with my daughter who was in her office in mid-town Manhattan, telling me the World Trade Center Towers were GONE! My friends and I got on the last subway car out of Washington for several hours. People were crying, some loudly, some just with tears streaming down their faces. I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me who said she would get me a ride from the end of the line to the remote lot where our cars were parked. Her ex-husband would take us, then she would lead us to I-95.
When we got home, my niece said she wanted me to take her to donate blood near the Christiana Hospital. We couldn't get near the place. Men were by the Center, waving people away. Cars were parked along the road everywhere. People were being turned away. My daughter in New York was safe, but had to walk for miles to get home because all transportation had stopped for several hours. I went to New York on Thursday, the 13. Signs along the New Jersey Turnpike said 'New York City is closed'. You could see and SMELL the smoke for miles from New Jersey. My Washington state visitors were supposed to leave that Saturday, but it was another week before they could get a plane home.
Catherine W. Kersey
http://www.delawareonline.com/blogs/911.html
The plan was that Mom, my Aunt Joan and Diane would go on the 8:30 tour of the White House they had planned while on their trip to Washington, D.C. Later in the day, they were to head up to New York City to stay with me and see The Lion King on Broadway. I was working at HBO in Times Square and made plans to leave early that day and take the next two days off to entertain Diane, my aunt and mother. Diane and Aunt Joan lived in the State of Washington and this would be Diane's first trip to the Big Apple.
I took the subway to work from my home in Riverdale and got off at the Times Square station as usual. When I got out of the subway station and walked to the end of the block at the street light, I put my walkman on and noticed how blue and clear the sky was. Fall, one of my favorite seasons, was fast approaching.
The DJ was saying something about a small plane having crashed into one of the twin towers of the World Trade Center. Well, I don't need to do a narrative about what happened next; it's forever seared in our collective memory. I want to pick this up where there were airplanes in the sky still unaccounted for and the theory was that more hijackers had taken over plans and planned on targeting the Capitol Building or the White House. The Pentagon had already been attacked.
My panic momentarily blinded me. I couldn't think or speak as I realized my mother was probably still on her tour of the White House - a likely terrorist target if ever one existed - and once I came out of my initial panic, I started dialing her cell phone and did so for the next 90 minutes until I was finally able to get a line out. By this time, of course, the White House had been evacuated and Mom witnessed men in black outfits, seemingly SWAT-team type people, circling at the top of the White House. Mom saw smoke billowing from behind and thought there was a fire or something hence their being evacuated.
Out on the streets, however, cars had pulled over to the side of the curb and drivers opened the doors so others on the sidewalk could hear the awful news on the radio that the World Trade Center had been destroyed, the Pentagon attacked, and another aircraft had reported crashed somewhere near Pittsburgh. Later we would learn that Flight 93, the plane that crashed in a field, was to be used as a missle against the Capitol Building or the White House . . . the White House where my mother and other family members were visiting. The White House that would have certainly been destroyed had it taken a direct hit from a commercial airliner.
Mom, Joan and Diane managed to get quick and safe passage to their car and out of Washington, D.C. The terrible panic I felt for those 90 minutes not being able to contact my mother, knowing she was in harm's way, is the worst panic I have ever felt in my life. I feared that I was going to lose her, my aunt and Diane. That was not to be, however, but we all certainly lose a great day on that terrible day 5 years ago.
Two images are forever emblazoned in my memory: the first is holding my father's hand as he took his last breath and the other when the second Tower collapsed. The way that second tower buckled and fell, aerial too, is a haunting image that took a very long time to not flash in my mind several times a day.
Thankfully I have only a "could have lost" to contend with rather than mourning the death of a loved one or friend. I'm grateful for that.
Update: The News Journal of Wilmington, Delaware published the written memories of Delawareans on 9/11 and a letter my mother wrote of her experience was published. It is being republished here with her permission and a link to the special letter section of today's edition.
'Get out for your own safety'
September 11 dawned a beautiful day in Washington DC as relatives from the state of Washington, a friend and I handed our tickets to the guard for our 8:00 tour of the White House. After seeing the magnificent rooms, we gathered outside under the portico to take pictures when we saw a group of military personnel with weapons drawn running up the driveway. Guards suddenly started screaming at the tourists to 'get out, right now, get out for your own safety!' As we were rushed off the White House grounds we could see men on the roof manning what looked like anti-aircraft guns, and then many police cars and fire engines. People were pouring out of the White House. Behind it we could see a column of smoke from what we found out later was from the burning Pentagon. My cell phone rang, with my daughter who was in her office in mid-town Manhattan, telling me the World Trade Center Towers were GONE! My friends and I got on the last subway car out of Washington for several hours. People were crying, some loudly, some just with tears streaming down their faces. I struck up a conversation with the woman next to me who said she would get me a ride from the end of the line to the remote lot where our cars were parked. Her ex-husband would take us, then she would lead us to I-95.
When we got home, my niece said she wanted me to take her to donate blood near the Christiana Hospital. We couldn't get near the place. Men were by the Center, waving people away. Cars were parked along the road everywhere. People were being turned away. My daughter in New York was safe, but had to walk for miles to get home because all transportation had stopped for several hours. I went to New York on Thursday, the 13. Signs along the New Jersey Turnpike said 'New York City is closed'. You could see and SMELL the smoke for miles from New Jersey. My Washington state visitors were supposed to leave that Saturday, but it was another week before they could get a plane home.
Catherine W. Kersey
http://www.delawareonline.com/blogs/911.html
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Strength training and hamster dancing
After spending considerable time with strength training, today I realized I had dropped a dress size. I feel great.
So great, in fact, it makes me want to do a duck impression.
Now, I see this and realize . . . I need to do something about my eyebrows or the lack thereof. I used to get them dyed to match my hair but the dying process and resulting odors makes my eyes burn. I am thinking of ordering a pencil stick that will match my hair from
website. I got one a long time ago that was great. The trick was to apply it in such a way that I did not resemble Mrs. Danvers from the film Rebecca.
Anyway, I have asked Mort the Hamster for some advice on keeping in shape. He showed up on a our patio some months ago. He listens to me most intensely, see?
He loves me no matter what is going on with my eyebrows.
How many people are lucky enough to say the same?
So great, in fact, it makes me want to do a duck impression.
Now, I see this and realize . . . I need to do something about my eyebrows or the lack thereof. I used to get them dyed to match my hair but the dying process and resulting odors makes my eyes burn. I am thinking of ordering a pencil stick that will match my hair from
website. I got one a long time ago that was great. The trick was to apply it in such a way that I did not resemble Mrs. Danvers from the film Rebecca.
Anyway, I have asked Mort the Hamster for some advice on keeping in shape. He showed up on a our patio some months ago. He listens to me most intensely, see?
He loves me no matter what is going on with my eyebrows.
How many people are lucky enough to say the same?
Saturday, September 09, 2006
As if anyone needed a reminder . . .
Yesterday I learned that a nurse from the downstate office of Delaware Hospice was killed in a head-on collision caused by a drunk driver. It was 3:30 a.m. and she had been called out to assist a family in distress. After doing so and heading home, a drunk driver heading down the wrong way on the highway hit her head-on, causing her SUV to spin around to the other side of the road and then be hit broadside by another car.
Here, a nurse whose calling in life was to assist the families of dying patients at all hours, was killed by someone who clearly did not value life enough to NOT drive while drunk.
As I indicated in my earlier post, life is too damn short to waste on things that do not matter to us. If there is one thing we should focus on it is to create a life for ourselves that gives us the most happiness and satifaction.
Because we don't when doing so will be too late.
Here, a nurse whose calling in life was to assist the families of dying patients at all hours, was killed by someone who clearly did not value life enough to NOT drive while drunk.
As I indicated in my earlier post, life is too damn short to waste on things that do not matter to us. If there is one thing we should focus on it is to create a life for ourselves that gives us the most happiness and satifaction.
Because we don't when doing so will be too late.
Friday, September 08, 2006
One Death
When I heard the news that wild life conservationist Steve Irwin died in a freak accident, I remarked to a friend how sad it was. I enjoyed his programs and, to be extremely frank and shallow, enjoyed looking at his athletic build.
His death sparked a great deal of news and internet talk. I never thought of him as being an international superstar but perhaps the kernel of this mass shock and sadness is the loss of a man who was still young (in his 40s), committed to his work, and evidently quite happy with life.
It's so not fair.
He leaves behind a wife and children. Hours before he was killed apparently by a startled stingway, he was sitting on a boat with a friend sipping tea and talking about how good life was. Hours later he was dead.
If there is anything is be learned from this death, it is that old adage we consider to be old hat: live life each day as if it were your last. This is not to say you should operate as if under a perpetually black cloud; take the adage in a more positive light instead. Look at how you live your life each day and what you focus on. How much do you focus on stupid stuff? Do you even know what stupid stuff exists in your daily life? Okay, what is stupid stuff? These are questions to ask and answer in order to determine what is and is not important.
I recently encouraged a friend to see a doctor and, if he confirmed his case to be severe depression, do something about it. Since we have no idea when our "time" is going to come, doesn't it make more sense to take care of ourselves in such a way that we have the greatest potential to be happy? If the chemicals in the brain are causing us to be miserable, why wait to deal with it? Wait until when? How long?
Note the words in "deadline." None of us know when our "deadline" is coming.
Why wait to be happy or fulfilled?
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