Author Archives: Peter Sanford Kahrmann

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About Peter Sanford Kahrmann

Writer, disability rights advocate, civil rights advocate.

Goodbye Mr. Monk

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I knew I would cry. The final episode of the USA network’s detective series Monk aired last Friday and I couldn’t get myself to watch it until today. It was like a good book I never wanted to end.

I knew when I sat down to watch the two-part episode I taped that I would cry and I was right. Based on the quality of the show, the acting, writing and directing, I also knew the last show would not disappoint and I was right. It seems it was the most watched series finale in basic cable history with a viewing audience of 9.4 million. And, the gift that life gives Adrian Monk in the last episode is a reminder to all of us that life is worth living, even when we think it’s not.

I can only give you glimpses of why the show has meant so much to me. I was deeply moved by the depth of his love for his late wife Trudy. The back story to the series includes her murder. The show was remarkable in its ability to find ways to let us see and, most importantly, feel how deeply he loved Trudy and how deeply she loved him. I liked the show too because here is a man battling with enough phobias to fill a stadium yet he still finds a way to take part in life. I like too that Monk was a sensitive man who really allowed himself to feel his life, even though some his feelings gave him such a hard time of it.

There is another thing I loved about the series. It really is about the characters.  So many shows and movies today are all about action and special effects and the conduits for the aforementioned are the characters who might as well be digital people, plugged in to ride the robot or fire the space weapon or some such nonsense. Monk was about people. I’m going to miss the Captain, Randy, Sharona, Natalie,  Ambrose and, most of all, Monk.

And, if you’ll permit me a bit of nearly inexcusable self-indulgence, I take pride in a fact that has no meaning to anyone but me. The even-more-than-brilliant actor who plays Monk, Tony Shalhoub and I, are exactly seven days apart in age. Does that have any real meaning? No, probably not. But I like that it’s true anyway.

If this missive is ever read by someone who took part in making Monk a reality, the actors, producers, writers, those who worked on the set and all others,  thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for creating a show that brought so much to my life and the lives of so many millions of others. If you are not feeling good about yourselves, you’re not paying attention.

Goodbye, Mr. Monk. I’m going to miss you.

Deadbeats, Dishonesty, and (wait for it) Advocacy & The Guardian Horntoads

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Many years ago my friend Michael and made the tongue-in-check decision to form an organization called The Guardian Horntoads. Michael came up with this wonderful name, a play on the very serious and admirable group, The Guardian Angels.

Anyway, the Guardian Horntoads was formed around my not so tongue-in-cheek instinct to advocate, defend, expose, and take on the bully. Over the years this instinct has taken me down several paths; the fight for the Brady Bill, winning a law suit against the New York State Crime Victims Compensation Board, exposing a state contract employee’s bogus credentials and much more.

I am now involved with a group of people forming the Kahrmann Advocacy Center.

While my advocacy efforts are primarily in the professional, political and social arenas, I have no problem ratcheting up the advocacy machine when someone I love and care about is enduring a willful effort comprised of  dishonesty and, well, bullshit, to deny them the money and support they are legally entitled to.

It’s hard to take cries of poverty seriously when one half of those crying poverty is the productivity coach for a top Massachusetts realty firm in which she has millions of dollars worth of property listed (the top price in the eight internet pages of  listings this writer recently reviewed being a $1.95 million residential property in Groton) and the other half  is a teacher who doesn’t work in the summer.

This, you can be sure, is a situation I am watching and will continue to watch closely. It is my sincere hope that those now crying poverty will come to their senses and do the right thing. If not, I will move forward with ratcheting up the advocacy machine.

Snow Quiet Morning

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I am in a snow quiet morning

A soft gentle embrace

From nature herself

Allowing me breathing

In early hour peace

*

I am in a snow quiet morning

Padding about my home

Smiling warm safe coffee

In hand fully knowing

Life is my living

*

I am in a snow quiet morning

With all I those gone

Still here smiling their love

For me lifting me up saying

Remember to live

 

Gandhi’s Words: Be the Change

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If you read the words of Mahatma Gandhi you are, if you allow yourself to hear and digest them, moved by their spiritual accuracy and, if you listen deeper still, struck by the enormous strength it takes to live them.

When I am filled with anger at an individual, group, policy, etc., I often turn to the words of people I admire and look up to. People like Gandhi, King, Mandela, Malcolm, and others like Brother Gregory Myles or Father Mychal Judge.  And so it was that this evening I found myself reading some of  Gandhi’s words. For example,“Hate the sin, not the sinner.” Not easy, and at times it feels damn near impossible. Sometimes I am able to live that distinction straight away, other times it takes me time. While I will always work to hate the sin and not the sinner, sometimes I am successful, sometimes I am not.

This evening I ran across another thing Gandhi said that was so remarkable it sent me into a gentle place of quiet stillness. He said, “You must be the change you want in the world.” I read this several times and then the tears came because his words are as true as life itself. And, if I am to be the change I would like in the world, then I must hate the sin and not the sinner, and also forgive the sinner, and that includes those who have wounded me.

Gandhi said, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”  And, when you forgive and believe you are weak because you forgive, I say, If it is an act of weakness to forgive, then why is it so hard to do?

Remember what he said, “You must be the change you want in the world.”

I think that about covers it for now.

Withholding My Fire

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Many years ago my friend Dane told me I was too patient with people. It was true then and it is true now. I plan on changing this. I am, for example, tired to death of those who proclaim friendship or, even worse, tell you that you can think of them as family and later turn out to be as steadfast as a reed in a windstorm. I am sick to death of getting betrayed. The Marines have a saying, When the going gets tough, the tough get going.  For the friend-family fly-by-nights another version is more applicable. When the going gets tough, the wimps flee.

Back to betrayal for a moment. In early 2008 several took runs at me and away from me when I refused to back off when people with disabilities were being denied their rights and when I uncovered the fact a contract employee with the state was misrepresenting his credentials. I remember talking to Brother Gregory Myles about those who both betrayed me and did all they could to plunge knives into my back. Brother Gregory is an extraordinary man. He  glows with integrity and strength and has a remarkable capacity to right-size a moment. When I told him about those who’d betrayed me he smiled and said, “Peter, people betrayed Jesus. What makes you think they won’t betray you?”  I smiled, nodded, and, with all my heart, thanked him.

As for those who still take runs at me, or send wounds via e-mail or voice mail, while I will surrender my sobriety for no one, not even you, cross the street when you see me coming, my words to you will be anything but complimentary.