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About Peter Sanford Kahrmann

Writer, disability rights advocate, civil rights advocate.

JAIL MADOFF (Duh)

Keep Bernard L. Madoff in jail for Godsakes. The guy is the likely head of a $50 billion Ponzi scheme and what? He’s home in his penthouse with an ankle bracelet on? Are you kidding me? Now it seems he and his wife have begun mailing valuables to family members. And there is still some question in the eyes of some nitwits as to whether or not this twit should be in jail?


A Ponzi scheme, by the way, is a pyramid scheme of sorts in which a fraudulent investment operation pays returns to investors from money paid into the scheme by other investors when, in fact, there are no profits at all. The scheme is named after Charles Ponzi who used it when he immigrated to the United States from Italy in 1903.


And then we have poor Harry Markopolos, a financial examiner who’d been warning the SEC for nearly 10 years about Mr. Madoff. He was supposed to be a star witness for Congress when suddenly he backed off claiming, in part, that he was not feeling well enough to travel.




Let me pause here for a moment because there is a chance, however remote that might be, that someone reading this may believe Mr. Markopolos is telling the truth about not feeling well and is not being coerced, pressured or, dare I say it, threatened into not testifying. Lest I leave such a reader unattended, may I say to him or her that I willing to sell my 600,000 acres of the approved-for-oil-drilling parcel of Alaska Wilderness for the amazingly reasonable price of $100,000 – cash on the barrelhead, thank you very much.


My heart does go out to those of Mr. Markopolos’s ilk. I’ve been a human rights activist and whistle blower at times when people are getting, how shall I say, fucked over, and have paid a heavy price for it.


But as to where Mr. Madoff should be resting his dishonest greedy little head? A nice firm cell bunk would be my choice. I think that’s a nice return for him, dontcha think?


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DEAR JACKIE

I name this post Dear Jackie because it was my friend Jackie, who now lives overseas, who asked if I would be publishing the memoir on the blog. While I won’t be published it on the blog in its entirety, I have already published excerpts on the blog. If you search this blog for Shep and the Priest you will arrive at an excerpt from the memoir. There are other excerpts too on the blog.

At any rate, bless you Jackie for your question and be safe in life.

My best to you all,

Peter

THE FINAL DRAFT: MARCH 28

The end of the memoir is in sight and I can’t believe I just said that. You get to writing something like this and you feel, and at times believe, that there is no end to it. However, the end is in sight and oh my, I am bubbling over.

For the last four or five days I have been polishing and honing the part of the book involving my reunion with my birth-mother on January 8, 1987. What a breathtaking and beautiful event that day was. Deciding to look for her is one of the greatest decisions I ever made in my life. I can think of no decision any greater, that’s for sure.

I have chosen to finish the final draft this March 28. I will tell you why. At on or about 1:43 p.m. on March 28 I will pass my father in time in this world. According to the records, that is the time of day he died.

My father was born on February 20 and died at age 55 on August 16. I was born on October 2 and am now 55. If you count the number of days from February 20 to August 16 and then count the same number out from October 2, you land on March 28. And so, come hell or high water, March 28 is the day I will finish the final draft.

When 1:43 p.m. arrives on that day I will be at my Dad’s grave site to go through that moment together with him. As I have said in numerous speeches and writings, my father was and is the greatest gift life has ever given me.

As I mentioned in the journal entries from Stokes Forest (See October blog posts), from March 28 on, I will be striding through life for the both of us aiming as much love and kindness at others as I can.
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THE ONES WHO PAY ATTENTION

I heard a good man today say he recently sat by his ex-wife’s bedside and nurtured her for the last two weeks of her life. I could not stop my tears. While my ex-wife may have a different outcome, she is fighting a life threatening monster of an ailment: aplastic anemia, a shit of a condition in which the bone marrow refuses to make the amount of platelets it was hired to make.


The man’s voice moved through and past his tears, then through and past mine ,and right to the center of my heart.



We are each of us human, life and death happens to us whether we like it or not and each of us has only so much say. While none of us alone can save the world, or save each other from the world, we can remember to love each other, to be there for each other. It is the being there that means the most, at least that is my feeling.


Someone once asked me who I remembered most after my hardest hits in life: the shooting, the death of my father, the suicides of a mother, brother, birth-father. Without having to think about it I said, The ones who paid attention. Those that made the biggest difference were the ones that simply paid attention.


Many years ago I was among a group of 15 folks or so that were trained in crisis counseling by two very talented social workers from New York City’s non-profit Victim Services Agency. I remember one of the social workers, Inez Kramer, telling us, “Always remember, the one who is doing the most talking is the one who is getting the most help.”


Thank you for helping me tonight. Thank you for paying attention.

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PALIN ON THE MOON

I was a wee bit tired when I first read that Alaska Governor Sarah Palin released a statement about the birth of her first grandchild which read, in part, “We are over the moon with the arrival of this healthy, beautiful baby…” I thought it read “we are on the moon” and found myself wishing that’s exactly where she was.

The former Republican VP nominee (an unsettling phrase to write, let me tell you) reminds me of fungus that just won’t go away. Or one of those horrible sitcoms that leaves you scratching your head, wondering with all your might, what on earth are people thinking?

As time moves on after the election it is more and more clear how out of her element she was and is when it comes to holding national office. Check that. Any office. At the same time, it is refreshing to see the real John McCain back again, the John McCain free of his handlers, a group of people who, now that I think of it, ought to be on the moon with Palin.

Happy New Year all!
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