News

My father died three days ago [link to youTube, Johnny Cash song, Hurt , ebedding disabled by request]. He had gone very far down, and as can happen, treatment for cancer of the tongue destorys the cancer, then kills you. His suffering is over. Well into his mid seventies, he could do things physically I cannot do today.

As many of you know, I lost my job the day before Thanksgiving. What a year it has been. While replenishing my income is a real need, more to the point, I never really recovered both spiritually, emotionally, and practically from when I left Wall Street in 2000 [1].

I turned fifty in October, and my job was gone within four weaks. The housing crisis hit building materials retail NOT in September of 2008, but had already arrived in October of 2007, when we saw all the signs. As I said many times, it signified how much value I gave Lowes for being able to keep my job in the next 13 months, under enormous pressure from senior management. But in the end, at my highest pay rate, a red bullseye sat on my forehead, and I challenged management often, go figure. Even if you are supposed to be the best, that has its limits. :) I say this with humor, I hope you all understand.

My oldest friend died of altzheimers two months ago. He was a bridge master, a chess expert, and even played tennis great Rod Laver in rounds at both Wimbelton and The Italian Open, such a talent. He hustled pool, took BASIC programming to its limits early in the day, read Wittgenstein, and was a gourment. He was a spy in Eastern Europe, learning fluent Czech in just three months at the Montery Language School. He had read all of Being and Nothingness as a lad and became president of the American Azalia and Rhodendion Society in his latter years, with the back of his left foot, learning the names of many of the plants in Japanese. It goes without saying, he was among the one or two most brilliant persons I have had the priviledge of ever knowing. He was my first real teacher, and what a teacher he was.

Three days ago, I signed up--after ten years of ardent resistence--for a clinical study in severe depression, with medication provided. All the visits are covered, and the providor is solid, solid, solid [2], all fully monitored, 24 access to Doc with pager... When I got home from my intake visit, the phone rang, and it was news of my dads death.





















I have often said how psychic I am. All too true. I feel and see more than most want to receive, and am more sensative than most. Not knowing my dad had his last day, I RAN to the post office the day before he died, having writen him my first letter in four years (he was deaf, we did a LOT of email, but that in the end was beyond his capabilities), and mailed the letter. I got home, and could not stop crying. The phone rings--it's the clinic, and I am invited to come in the next day. I cry off and on all night. Off and on for hours. As I go to bed, I was thinking, 'if only I could have a contract put out on me, get drunk with the door unlocked and get shot in my sleep, it would conveniently be over...' [3]

The next day, I am in the clinic for five hours. I go to Lowes for the first time since November, to research major brands, having decided my only hope is to combine architect and territory sales, product representative roles, by researching major brands, all of which I know quite well, and also went to Home Depot. I can see what outsiders cannot in an hour, mapping major labels [4].

I get home, phone rings, dad is dead.

In one week: decision to go on antidepresents, go back inside Lowes for the first time in four months (another location, for sure, where I am not well known), and dad dies.

I still play chess, six to seven times a week, at FICS, and sometimes Y! or chessCube for minor warm up games, 1700 in latter, but no mental space to join USCF again, still. I finally finished Reifeld's 1001 Sacrfices and Combinations till the binding fully disintegrated, and have just done 1/8th of his 1001 Brilliant Ways to Checkmate. I am annualizing 98.6% at CTS, and soon will hit 90.1% for 50,000 tries, something few in the world have done there. The Polgar project continues, albiet my current state a big hangup. I am starting to develop some blindfold skill, but mostly its in my sleep that I have it, when my heading is swimming in chess positions [5].

I want to write the big ChessBase post, but I have zero extra. My plate is full. Life is hard. Life seems over.














Those of you who are young--don't waste your life. If you see a girl or a boy you like go for her or him. Don't have a job you like--get out. Don't love you wife or husband--end it. Do what you love, take the chances given to you. The journey is a one shot deal. Loyalty, keeping promises, helping others, being authentic. Go to Europe or Asia, learn Arabic of German or Chinese, read the classics, learn to cook. Learn SQL and basic accounting. Learn carpentry and baking and homeopathy and how to cultivate organic vegetables and hydroponics.

Hold hands, hug, kiss, cry, laught, mourn, celebrate. Meditate, pray, share, listen. Like Robert Heinleins list of skills a man needs, go expand you palate to the maximum. Be nice to children and old people and the disabled, feed the homeless and give a bed to someone in need. And go ahead, and play a few wild gambits after drink.

Love dk





















[1] Having almost a Senior VP title on your resume from Morgan Stanley THEN working at Lowes for six years after professional architectural practice AFTER living in a Zen Temple in Korea is like being hot iron brandished misfit, as far as the corporate world is concerned. Needle in haystack situation as far getting a 'job'. It like but being a refuge but only you are white middleclass, but might as well be a homeless drug addict felon.




[2] Not all is lost on me. I almost didn't qualify in the subjectivity test, since my physical health is so good, despite a great score on sinking mood. :)

I continue to eat exceedingly healthily, just back from a 36 minute run, including hills five to six days a week....

When the psyhologist saw the numbers, my heart sank, but he left the room to go see the MD's, and said, 'Let me see what I can do'. Clearly, I not only belonged in the study, but could benefit enormously--and he knew it and I knew it. Mercy please, Lord. Yes.

[3] Armchair Doctors of the blogosphere, fear not. I DO WANT to live, but these are what are called feelings, defined in therapy as like/dislike.

[4] So the real rub of the matter is that I need to find a new direction. Technical sales, project management, program management open positions are flooded with applicants, not least of which WAMU, the largest bank bust in US history is from Seattle, so that 'on the margin', odds are 1: 400 or 500 I can find a job on the web. Prospective employers have their pick in detail here, of who they want:

"We need someone who can do Quickbooks, answer four phones, do html, photcopy, mailroom, refill coffee machine, CNC die and toolmaker, knowledge of AutoCAD, SQL, Nissan Factory certified, AND perfect driving record, must be Ivy League, under age fifty, over age twenty-five, provide SS number, detailed references", at Seattle,Craigslist.com as much as $11 to 13 per hour by gosh! Wow! Not far from the truth. Fuck that.

[5] Almost doesnt cut it, but dang it, I almost hit 1500 bullet at ICC and then missed it. 1500 bullet generally correlates (not alway, but usually) with a 1600-1700 blitz game and 1800-1850 standard chess. I am still trying... beating 1900's now and again, but also time to time losing to 1300 still, so not quite ready. My win loss ratio at FICS and ICC alike is about 33%, my pride and joy, badge of sustained punishment.