Report to Ezra Jabez
Sacketts Harbor, 1996
Grandfather, they are taking the boats out of the water at Navy Point. In 1996. I
walked out there this morning. There was a misty rain and the wind was from the north- west, coming in off the lake. I thought of you and how you would know and expect the seasonal activity of this little harbor, so I am making my report to you.

The harbor is full of pleasure boats, Sail and motor launches. They have names and home "ports", which seem to be the domiciles of their owners, not necessarily on the lake. There was "Empty Pockets", a message I will try to remember when I toy with the idea of boat ownership. Many are for sale, beautiful clean shining hulls, up on pylons, their dimensions, year of launch, and price stuck on their bows. The dollar amount ranges from $19,000 to $176, 000. Your estate, at your death was listed at about $27,000. You would be shocked.

These boats are made of fiberglass, not much wood to be seen. They have tall aluminum masts, now lying side by side like stacked wood, segregated in another part of the boat yard. There are all sorts of navigational aids attached around the cockpit. These electronic navigators communicate with satellites, Grandfather! You can tell your position any where on the earth within a few feet by turning on these gadgets! What happens when the power fails? I hope these sailors still know how to "shoot the stars".

They are predicting a drastic change in temperature tonight. Today, October 2nd it is about 65 degrees and sunny. The flowers are blooming. Tomorrow it is supposed to be 40 F. I'm ready. I know how changeable this place is. I've got my Down Parka along.

Lots of love, your granddaughter, Sessa

The Informant, staring Matt Damon, or Name that Pathology

I had read of Mark Whitaker’s debacle with Archer Daniels Midland ten, fifteen, years ago in maybe the New Yorker? I had been fascinated and amused so looked forward to seeing the dramatization on screen.

I was not prepared for the “this is your life” experience that unfolded before me. At first I thought, "Wait a minute, this is familiar."

His story was good, believable. But then little things didn’t add up. What’s wrong here?

The main character, Mark Whitaker spins out lies and fabrications with the ease of water pouring from a jug. It became apparent that he was preoccupied with his interior life. At first I thought, “pathological liar.” Then, “He’s paranoid.” Then “to think it is to say it.”

At that point things became uncomfortably familiar. “This guy is like Ian. He can’t help himself. He even lies about his lies."

I began to feel sad and depressed. There it was before me. The charm, the manipulation, the grandiosity.

I have always struggled with my guilt, sadness, frustration trying to make Ian “like other people.” Wanting to shake him and say, “For once, just tell the truth.” I see the same frustration in the FBI handler. He always just gets more lies.

What is this syndrome? There are elements of autism, antisocial personality disorder, paranoia, secretiveness, and manipulation.

I left the theater sad and depressed. Ian was sick, from an early age. A lot of very good people tried to help him. No one really saw or understood the whole picture. It is a tribute to Matt Damon, a fine actor, that he could catch all the nuance and bring it before the audience. In the end how can we understand such complex mental illness? Poor Ian, he was his own worst enemy.