My Orthodox Jewish grandmother told me that if I married a man who wasn’t Jewish that he would eventually beat me. My Jewish mother told me if I married a gentile that she would serve only lima beans at my wedding and no one would come. Needless to say at 26 years of age I was on a quest to marry the most Hebrewist man I could find. The year was 1996. I was working at major motion picture studio. A six-foot tall, quite good-looking man in his early thirties walked up to my cardboard-like cubicle. “Hi, I’m Jacob Jewstein (that’s not really his name but trust me it was super heeby). I’m the new Mac guy.” (It was his job to fix all the Mac computers on the studio lot). What went through my mind instantly was “Mrs. Jacob Jewstein.” You see not only did I have to marry Jewish but I had a timetable. By 26 I will meet the man of my dreams, married by 30 and kids by 33. I aggressively pursued Jacob Jewstein like a tiger mom pursues an ivy-league education for her children. The signs were there from the beginning of the relationship: The full body waxing kits, the John Mayer concert tickets, the rainbow colored c–k rings. All kidding aside there were signs. He found oral sex repulsive, there were unexplained absences and he would sit in front of his computer with the door closed for hours. I thought he was shy or maybe had a mild case of Asperger’s. Regardless of all these signs, I wanted to be married so badly. Besides, lots of people’s marriages look good on paper only, right? One of the real reasons I married my ex-husband (I’ve never admitted this before) was to prove to my family that I wasn’t the loser they thought I was. I was the black sheep and the fuck up. Every family has at least one. We tied the knot overlooking the Charles River in Boston. He never asked me to marry him. I just bought the ring myself and decided that’s what we were doing. I had my big fat Jewish wedding. It was truly spectacular… until the honeymoon. I bought a cute little nighty to wear and sashayed out of the hotel bathroom to find a sleeping husband. That little nighty still has the price tags on it. I felt like I was dying inside. I found solace in pills, just a few kinds: Vicodin, Ativan, Xanax, Klonopin, Tylenol with Codeine, Valium and Oxycotton. I was an over achiever, an opiate Olympian if you will. Don’t worry, after winning the gold I retired from those Olympics. Matters went from worse to horrific. We were like ships passing in the night. He would work long hours and come home in the middle of the night and sleep on the couch. Am not attractive? Not sexy? Not interesting? I had no self worth left and I didn’t know what to do. I would indeed be even more of a loser if my family knew the whole situation and I got divorced. But I had to know the truth, was my husband gay? One night I attempted to hack his computer but it was like Fort Knox with all its passwords so I went rooting around his closet instead (insert gay closet joke here). Under piles of clothes and boxes was a duffle bag. I pulled the bag out and opened it. Inside was a vast array of questionable porn, including some man on man selections. My heart dropped but I was also relieved. It wasn’t me, he likes c–k! “I’m going to need a divorce,” I blurted out when he got home. He didn’t say anything or admit to being gay. He told me that I was dramatic and “who would want to have sex with someone like me?” I was devastated. I found research done by University of Chicago sociologist Edward Laumann, Ph.D. He estimated that between 1.5 million and 2.9 million American women who have ever been married had a husband who had had sex with another man. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love gay men. I would say 80 percent of my friends are gay men; I just didn’t intend on marrying and subsequently divorcing one. I felt betrayed, angry and extremely sad. I have no idea who I married and we don’t have a relationship today. It’s a shame too because it would have been really great to be friends and go together to the “Sound of Music Sing Along” at the Hollywood Bowl.
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I was thirty-five when I had my first child. This means I had thirty-five years (give or take) to fantasize about who that child would be. I had lists of baby names when I was in elementary school and dreamed of bringing my daughter home from the hospital and cooing over her every expression. A closet full of adorable dresses was a given, as was a bookshelf full of Nancy Drew mysteries and the entire Little House on the Prairie collection. I knew that we’d be thick as thieves and she’d share her secrets with me. There wasn’t a thing about her and her life that I hadn’t considered, except the chance that “she” might be a “he.” When I got pregnant, a rudimentary understanding of probabilities would have prepared me for the possibility that I’d have a boy, but it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t get my XX chromosome swaddled in pink. I am certain my husband, who generally has a better grasp of reality than I do, understood the odds, but he doesn’t like to crush my dreams, so he kept his mouth shut. (I was also a very hormonal pregnant woman, which may have had something to do with it). To say I was stunned when my doctor’s assistant told us we were having a boy would be an understatement. To my credit, when I heard the word “penis” I managed not to break down sobbing until the woman waving the magic sonogram wand left my husband and me alone in the examining room. But once the door shut, I lost it. What the hell was I going to do with a boy? I had no interest in cars or trains. I was incapable of building anything and preferred Dirty Dancing or Steel Magnolias to football. With the exception of Farmer Boy, the Little House series was out. This was NOT what I had planned. I had planned on tea parties and pigtails, dammit, not mud pies and ripped jeans. To help ease me into my new reality, my husband suggested we hit a local store to pick out some baby clothes. This was a well-intentioned, but seriously misguided idea. This level of shock was not going to be fixed by a cute hoodie and a pair of miniature corduroys. This called for vodka (which I couldn’t have), a box of chocolate (which, given the amount of weight I had gained even in this early stage of my pregnancy I shouldn’t have) and a long, long phone call with my oldest friend (which I did have, and, God love her, she got it). Has anyone else felt this way, or was I alone in my sense of disappointment? Polls have found that people do have preferences for the sex of a child, which suggests that someone out there knows what I’m talking about. I’m not saying that people aren’t happy to have whatever children they have – but do parents have expectations that they have to realign when they discover that they’re bringing home a son when they expected a daughter (or vice-versa)? For my part, I knew how lucky I was – I was able to get pregnant, my baby was healthy and I had the resources to take care of him. It still took me about three days to pull myself out of my funk. I ate that box of chocolate, cried on my husband’s shoulder and used piles of Kleenex. (I did not, however, have the vodka.) But, I was going to be a mom. I was going to get it together. So I did. And I started dreaming about my son. I bought Legos, jeans and polo shirts, and covered the nursery with car decals. I found books about pirates and things that go zoom and learned who Bob the Builder was. (I still find him a little creepy). People gave us camouflage swaddling blankets and Ugli dolls instead of Raggedy Ann. We ditched the list of girl’s names and agreed on a name we loved for our little guy. When he was born, I had the rush of instantaneous love that everyone only tries to describe…. The biggest surprise of it all, however, is that having a boy is better than I could have ever imagined. My son and stepson can fill the house with teeth-chattering amounts of noise, but my son idolizes his big brother and his big brother adores him in return. Their need to wrestle (and my husband’s need to join in) baffles me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve replaced the books of my childhood with funnier ones about bugs, aliens, bodily functions and monsters. I still suck at building things, but I’ve learned the proper name of nearly every construction vehicle in existence and take great pride in my boy’s ability to name them from the backseat of our car while speeding along the interstate or puttering around town. I’ve discovered a love for ripped jeans, dirty hands, and miniature tool boxes and don’t mind that, although I give him every opportunity to bake cookies and play with dolls, my son prefers race cars and climbing on things to more sedate pursuits. Even though I am completely outnumbered in every way as the lone woman in our house, I don’t long for pigtails or pink dresses. Instead, I safely packed away that first pair of cords and hoodie as a reminder of everything that was perfect and small and surprising about the first year of my son’s life and each unexpected joy since. Maybe I finally learned what a great philosopher, Mick Jagger, knew all along — you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.
Continue reading …I was thirty-five when I had my first child. This means I had thirty-five years (give or take) to fantasize about who that child would be. I had lists of baby names when I was in elementary school and dreamed of bringing my daughter home from the hospital and cooing over her every expression. A closet full of adorable dresses was a given, as was a bookshelf full of Nancy Drew mysteries and the entire Little House on the Prairie collection. I knew that we’d be thick as thieves and she’d share her secrets with me. There wasn’t a thing about her and her life that I hadn’t considered, except the chance that “she” might be a “he.” When I got pregnant, a rudimentary understanding of probabilities would have prepared me for the possibility that I’d have a boy, but it never occurred to me that I wouldn’t get my XX chromosome swaddled in pink. I am certain my husband, who generally has a better grasp of reality than I do, understood the odds, but he doesn’t like to crush my dreams, so he kept his mouth shut. (I was also a very hormonal pregnant woman, which may have had something to do with it). To say I was stunned when my doctor’s assistant told us we were having a boy would be an understatement. To my credit, when I heard the word “penis” I managed not to break down sobbing until the woman waving the magic sonogram wand left my husband and me alone in the examining room. But once the door shut, I lost it. What the hell was I going to do with a boy? I had no interest in cars or trains. I was incapable of building anything and preferred Dirty Dancing or Steel Magnolias to football. With the exception of Farmer Boy, the Little House series was out. This was NOT what I had planned. I had planned on tea parties and pigtails, dammit, not mud pies and ripped jeans. To help ease me into my new reality, my husband suggested we hit a local store to pick out some baby clothes. This was a well-intentioned, but seriously misguided idea. This level of shock was not going to be fixed by a cute hoodie and a pair of miniature corduroys. This called for vodka (which I couldn’t have), a box of chocolate (which, given the amount of weight I had gained even in this early stage of my pregnancy I shouldn’t have) and a long, long phone call with my oldest friend (which I did have, and, God love her, she got it). Has anyone else felt this way, or was I alone in my sense of disappointment? Polls have found that people do have preferences for the sex of a child, which suggests that someone out there knows what I’m talking about. I’m not saying that people aren’t happy to have whatever children they have – but do parents have expectations that they have to realign when they discover that they’re bringing home a son when they expected a daughter (or vice-versa)? For my part, I knew how lucky I was – I was able to get pregnant, my baby was healthy and I had the resources to take care of him. It still took me about three days to pull myself out of my funk. I ate that box of chocolate, cried on my husband’s shoulder and used piles of Kleenex. (I did not, however, have the vodka.) But, I was going to be a mom. I was going to get it together. So I did. And I started dreaming about my son. I bought Legos, jeans and polo shirts, and covered the nursery with car decals. I found books about pirates and things that go zoom and learned who Bob the Builder was. (I still find him a little creepy). People gave us camouflage swaddling blankets and Ugli dolls instead of Raggedy Ann. We ditched the list of girl’s names and agreed on a name we loved for our little guy. When he was born, I had the rush of instantaneous love that everyone only tries to describe…. The biggest surprise of it all, however, is that having a boy is better than I could have ever imagined. My son and stepson can fill the house with teeth-chattering amounts of noise, but my son idolizes his big brother and his big brother adores him in return. Their need to wrestle (and my husband’s need to join in) baffles me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve replaced the books of my childhood with funnier ones about bugs, aliens, bodily functions and monsters. I still suck at building things, but I’ve learned the proper name of nearly every construction vehicle in existence and take great pride in my boy’s ability to name them from the backseat of our car while speeding along the interstate or puttering around town. I’ve discovered a love for ripped jeans, dirty hands, and miniature tool boxes and don’t mind that, although I give him every opportunity to bake cookies and play with dolls, my son prefers race cars and climbing on things to more sedate pursuits. Even though I am completely outnumbered in every way as the lone woman in our house, I don’t long for pigtails or pink dresses. Instead, I safely packed away that first pair of cords and hoodie as a reminder of everything that was perfect and small and surprising about the first year of my son’s life and each unexpected joy since. Maybe I finally learned what a great philosopher, Mick Jagger, knew all along — you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.
Continue reading …Chynna Phillips <![CDATA[&]]> Tony Dovolani: ‘Dancing With The Stars’ Is ‘A Popularity Contest’
October 13, 2011 No Comment![Chynna Phillips <![CDATA[&]]> Tony Dovolani: ‘Dancing With The Stars’ Is ‘A Popularity Contest’](https://newsbreakingonline.com/wp-content/themes/transcript/timthumb.php?src=%3Cimg+src%3D%22http%3A%2F%2Fnewsbreakingonline.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2011%2F10%2Faf6e220972A-mini.jpg.jpg%22+%2F%3E&q=90&w=190&h=100&zc=1 "Chynna Phillips <![CDATA[&]]> Tony Dovolani: ‘Dancing With The Stars’ Is ‘A Popularity Contest’")
Singer Chynna Phillips just couldn’t hold on for one more day on ABC’s “Dancing With the Stars.” She and partner Tony Dovolani, who had been at the top of the leaderboard for the first three weeks, were eliminated from the celebrity dancing competition after a somewhat poor performance on the dance floor. However, Phillips wouldn’t necessarily call “DWTS” a dancing competition. “It really does come down to the votes,” Phillips told The Huffington Post before her elimination. “And that’s kind of sad because it’s supposed to be a dance competition, but it’s actually a popularity contest, which makes me kind of sad. You know, you have to have a little bit of faith that there are people out there who are truly voting for their favorite dance, not their favorite person, because it is a dance competition and people are working really hard. It would be very sad if that was undermined, and it looks to me like that keeps getting undermined.” Even the judges seem to agree. On Monday night’s performance show, Len Goodman told Carson Kressley that even though he’s not the best dancer, if he was watching at home, he would vote for him. And after Kristin Cavallari’s shocking elimination in week three, it became even more apparent to the professional dancers as well. “It’s something that scares all of us, especially the years when you might feel like you have a contender,” Dovolani told The Huffington Post before his elimination. “In this particular case, I really feel like I have a chance to make it to the end. I’ve been on the show for 12 seasons, and Chynna has been a breath of fresh air for me. As much pull we have as teachers, in the end, it’s all about the celebrity. At the same time, as a teacher, you have to make sure you have to showcase the celebrity more than you showcase yourself. So if people don’t vote, they think that we might be safe, then we might end up going home.” Unfortunately for Dovolani, it looks like this just wasn’t his year for “Dancing” glory, and he will just have to wait until Season 14 to have another chance at winning the coveted Mirror Ball trophy. “I’m disappointed, I’m sad. But I have to take responsibility, I messed up,” Phillips said after her elimination, before thanking her pro partner Dovolani and the fans who voted for her. But Phillips shouldn’t be too hard on herself. After all, she’s got a few projects in the works, including a new reality show. Thanks to their appearance in the celebrated comedy “Bridesmaids,” Wilson Phillips is ready to fully launch their millennial comeback. The Grammy-nominated 90s girl group is getting their very own reality series on the TV Guide Network, titled “The Wilson Phillips Project.” The show will profile and follow Phillips, along with singing sisters Carnie Wilson and Wendy Wilson, as they try to reclaim the top of the charts. “I’ve gone to some pretty high places through that little television box [laughs],” said Phillips. “The good news about the reality show is that the cameras won’t be coming into my home. It’s more focused on following Carnie, Wendy and I on our tour and recording our next record, and us doing really important things like getting manicures and pedicures [laughs].” And Wilson Phillips fans, get excited because new music is coming soon — really soon. “Right now we’re working on a tribute record. It’s a The Mamas & the Papas and The Beach Boys classics record. We’re about a quarter of the way through with it. We’ll have it out probably in February of next year, and it’s called ‘Dedicated.’ We’re really excited about it because we get to honor our parents.” Even though Phillips lost her chance to bring home the Mirror Ball, she’s still rooting on her former competitors. “J.R. [Martinez] is amazing and Ricki [Lake] looks phenomenal,” said Phillips. “I mean, I have seen the transformation, and she’s not even a quarter of the way through yet! It’s scary [laughs]. But she looks fantastic. I’m so happy for her.”
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Type: Video Games Title: Battlefield 3 – Limited Edition See all customer reviews Product Description: Battlefield 3 leaps ahead of the competition with the power of Frostbite 2, the next installment of DICE’s cutting-edge game engine. This state-of-the-art technology is the foundation on which Battlefield 3 is built, delivering superior visual quality, a grand sense of scale, massive destruction, dynamic audio and incredibly lifelike character animations. As bullets whiz by, walls crumble, and explosions throw you to the ground, the battlefield feels more alive and interactive than ever before. In Battlefield 3, players step into the role of the elite U.S. Marines where they will experience heart-pounding single player missions and competitive multi-player actions ranging across diverse locations from around the globe including Europe, Middle-East and North America. Games sold in the US will not work on systems sold in different geographic locations due to regional coding requirements. Features: Battlefield 3 introduces Frostbite 2, the incredible technology that takes animation, destruction, lighting, scale and audio Feel the impact of bullets and explosions, drag your fallen comrades into safety, and mount your weapon on almost any part of the terrain The best online vehicular warfare experience gets even better with a fitting sonic boom as fighter jets headline impressive lineup vehicles Take the fight to iconic and unexpected urban locations in the USA, Middle East, and Europe Experience gripping multiplayer action with 2-24 player battles supported online See the details
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“People realize and it’s amazing how people don’t recognize you. They don’t expect to see me at Starbucks or at Chipotle.” — MICHELLE OBAMA telling Al Rocker about how she likes to get outside the White House and shop (via MSNBC)
Continue reading …Michael Bloomberg made a surprise visit to Zuccotti Park yesterday to warn Occupy Wall Street protesters that power washers are coming tomorrow to clean up the place. “The last three weeks have created unsanitary conditions and considerable wear and tear on the park,” Deputy Mayor Cas Holloway tells the New…
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New retirement age plan benefits people born from 6 January-5 September 1954, at cost to taxpayers of £1.1bn The work and pensions secretary, Iain Duncan Smith, has announced that the planned rise in the state pension age to 66 will be delayed until October 2020 in a move the government claims will benefit thousands of women. The original plans in the pensions bill meant women faced an increase in their state pension age to 65 from November 2018, followed by a further one-year increase to 66 from April 2020. That would have resulted in 33,000 women waiting an extra two years before they could claim the state pension. The new timetable will cap the increased wait to a maximum of 18 months, costing taxpayers £1.1bn. Campaigners had bombarded ministers, MPs and the media with letters demanding the rise in pension ages should be slowed down. They argued that women hit by the biggest increases in retirement age, most of whom are now aged 57, need more time to plan their finances or ensure they have work to cover any shortfall in retirement income caused by the later pension payments. Duncan Smith said: “We have listened to the concerns of those women most affected by the proposed rise in state pension age to 66 and so we will cap the increase to a maximum of 18 months. We have always made clear that we would manage any change fairly and ensure any transition is as smooth as possible.” However, only men and women born between 6 January and 5 September 1954 will benefit from the six-month delay. Lynda Hudson, a crown court employee in Birmingham who was born in December 1953, said: “I will still have to wait 18 months for my pension. What the politicians don’t appreciate is that it was very different for those of us born in the 50s: we didn’t have the same opportunity to go to university or help with childcare enabling us to work and build up our own pensions. It makes us feel that they don’t value anything that we’ve done. We’re just a burden.” The government said it had brought forward the increase in state pension age to 66 because of dramatic increases in life expectancy and the need to ensure no unfair burden was placed on the next generation. It said it would spend £45bn extra on pensioners by 2025 because of the triple guarantee to uprate the basic state pension by 2.5% or, if higher, the rate of increase in either earnings or prices. Chris Ball, chief executive of the Age and Employment Network, said: “The soundness of raising the state pension age and forcing people to go on working when the number of jobs available is shrinking will be rightly questioned.” He said asking people in physically demanding jobs to wait for their pension without making adequate provision to allow them to change roles and ease down in later life was “harsh at best”. Retirement age State pensions Iain Duncan Smith Pensions Retirement planning Work & careers Family finances Employee benefits Economic policy Jill Insley guardian.co.uk
Continue reading …Shooting At Seal Beach: Eight Confirmed Dead, One Critically Wounded (VIDEO)
October 13, 2011 No Comment
SEAL BEACH, Calif. — The ex-wife of the man suspected in a hair salon shooting rampage that left eight dead in Seal Beach, Calif., claimed in court filings this year that he was unstable and physically abusive to her during their marriage. Michelle Fournier Dekraai made the allegations in May in a filing involving custody of their 7-year-old son. She said Scott Dekraai was “almost manic” when it came to decisions about their son and asked the court to decline his request for more time with the boy. The ex-wife worked at the salon where police say Dekraai opened fire Wednesday afternoon. Police have not released information about the victims and it’s unclear if the ex-wife is among them. THIS IS A BREAKING NEWS UPDATE. Check back soon for further information. AP’s earlier story is below. Every hair-dressing station was full at Salon Meritage Wednesday when a gunman burst through the door and began shooting, sending terrified customers diving for cover in the upscale salon tucked just blocks from the beach in this quaint seaside town. The shooter then stepped outside, shot a man sitting in a truck in the parking lot and sped off. Six women and two men died. Their identities were not officially released, but owner Randy Fannin’s niece, Tami Scarcella, told the Los Angeles Times her uncle was among the dead. Police arrested 42-year-old Scott Dekraai about a half-mile from the scene. He did not struggle, police said. The gunman wore body armor and had several guns, police and witnesses said. Police did not release a motive for the shooting. However, court records and acquaintances said he and his ex-wife, Michelle Fournier Dekraai, of Huntington Beach, who worked at the salon as a licensed cosmetologist, had been locked in a bitter custody battle over their son since he filed for divorce in 2007. It was unclear whether Fournier was among those killed. A woman who was wounded in the rampage remained in critical condition Thursday, police said. Sgt. Steve Bowles said the woman was showing some signs of improvement. Her name was not released. The crime scene tape around the salon was gone early Thursday, with blinds on the side windows drawn and black plastic bags taped over the front windows and door. A memorial to the victims early Thursday started with two candles, some pink Hybiscus blooms and a handwritten poem called “The Day After.” Written on line notebook paper and signed only Laurie, it was “dedicated to all who lost and a most precious Seal Beach that didn’t deserve this carnage.” Mary Stearns of Huntington Beach came by to show her respects and leave a red candle. She knew Fannin, the salon owner, for more than 30 years, following him to three different salons over the years to get her hair done every eight weeks. “I was going to have him over for Christmas. I just saw him on Saturday. I had a bottle of wine I brought back from Australia. He loved wine,” she said. A woman who gave her name only as Cindy told the Orange County Register that she was in the salon, having her hair colored, when the gunman came in, went up to a woman stylist and fired. At first, the customer said she thought it was a Halloween prank. Then the man shot a woman who was having her hair shampooed, and then shot the salon owner, who was coloring Cindy’s hair, she said. “I just kept hearing boom, boom, boom, boom,” she said. “I ran out. I didn’t see his face. I just saw the gun in his hand and him shoot (everybody).” Cindy said she ran next door to another business, where she went into the bathroom, closed the door and turned out the light. “There was like a `pop pop’ … and my receptionist screamed out, `He just shot that man’ and we all went into the bathroom and called 911,” said Kimberly Criswell, who owns a salon two doors away and knew many hairstylists at Salon Meritage. “I’m sure I’ve lost some friends today.” It was the worst mass shooting in Orange County history since July 12, 1976, when custodian Edward Allaway killed seven people and wounded two others at California State University, Fullerton. Allaway was convicted of murder but later found to be insane. Glenn Zachman, who owns a video news-gathering service, said he arrived at the scene of the arrest shortly after police and saw they had placed plastic bags over the man’s hands to preserve possible gunshot residue. The man, in handcuffs, was placed in a patrol car and taken away about two-and-a-half hours after the shooting. A new white pickup truck that was believed to be his was parked on the modest residential street with its doors open. The man was cooperative when officers, working from a description of the shooter, stopped him near the salon, Bowles said. Shortly after he was arrested, police arrived at a house on Melody Lane in nearby Huntington Beach and escorted two women to a white car and then roped off the house with crime scene tape. The house is registered to Scott Dekraai. Lydia Sosa, a hairstylist who left two years ago to work at a new business with her friend, said the gunman’s ex-wife spoke often of her relationship problems. “They had been having bitter problems for years and I guess he just went in there and started shooting,” Sosa said. Dekraai was seeking full custody of the couple’s son but a court-ordered review recommended against that, John Cate Jr., the attorney for Michelle Dekraai, told the Orange County Register. Dekraai appeared for a court hearing in the case on Tuesday but it was merely a scheduling meeting, Cate said. “Obviously, I saw no indication” that he was violent, the attorney said. Kari Salveson of Los Alamitos, who attended a service for the victims at SeaCoast Grace Church in Seal Beach, said she had known Michelle Dekraai for more than 10 years. She said Michelle Dekraai made her every visit to the salon special. “She could gab away. She was one of those girlfriends you could never get enough of. She made you smile and she made you laugh,” Salveson said. In Huntington Beach, people were shocked to learn that one of the friendliest men in the neighborhood had been arrested for the shootings. Dekraai’s neighbors described him as an outgoing man who invited them over for pool parties at the house he’d lived in for about six years. They said he doted on his son, playing catch with the boy in his yard. Neighbors said they were aware Dekraai was in a custody battle with his ex-wife over their son, who neighbors said is 7 or 8 years old. “It was a very difficult battle and he was trying to get more time” with his son, said Jo Cornhall, who lives across the street from Dekraai. Next-door neighbor Stephanie Malchow, 29, said she was shocked when she saw the photo of the stocky man with thinning hair being detained by Seal Beach police. “I’m like, no, not this neighbor, no way, he’s the nicest guy ever,” Malchow said. Dekraai married his current wife two or three years ago in his backyard, said Malchow, who attended the wedding. “He seemed very happy, he was just so happy he found someone new who loved his son,” she said. Dekraai walked with a limp after a tug boat accident that killed a fellow tug boat operator about two miles off the coast in 2007. Cornhall said he uses a brace for his leg. Seal Beach has seen just one other homicide in the past four years, and Bowles said Wednesday’s killings were the greatest tragedy to ever strike the seaside town. The downtown is dotted with salons, restaurants, antique shops and boutiques clustered just blocks from a beach and pier popular with teenagers and young families. Many residents live and work within walking distance of the ocean and many businesses cater to Leisure World, a gated retirement community a few miles away that is home to 9,000 people. “It’s like Mayberry in the middle of Los Angeles,” said Doyle Surratt, lead pastor of SeaCoast Grace Church. “We’re small and all the kids go to school together.” _______ Associated Press writers John Rogers and Michael R. Blood in Los Angeles and Amy Taxin in Huntington Beach contributed to this report.
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According to Steve Jobs’ death certificate, issued Monday by the Santa Clara County Public Health Department, respiratory arrest brought on by a “metastatic pancreas neuroendocrine tumor” was the official cause of the Apple co-founder’s death on October 5, Bloomberg News reported. Bloomberg also noted that Jobs’ occupation was listed as “entrepreneur” on his death certificate. In a statement issued October 5, Jobs’ family did not specify the cause of death, but noted that Jobs “died peacefully today surrounded by his family.” Jobs had battled with his illness for several years and the AP notes that Jobs “lived more than seven years after being diagnosed with a neuroendocrine tumor –- a less common, slower-growing and more treatable type of pancreatic cancer.” Jobs first publicly disclosed his health problems in 2004, the same year he underwent surgery to remove a tumor from his pancreas and took a medical leave of absence. He had a liver transplant in 2009 and took a second medical leave of absence that year, then another this year. Jobs resigned as Apple’s CEO in August as his health continued to deteriorate. “I have always said if there ever came a day when I could no longer meet my duties and expectations as Apple’s CEO, I would be the first to let you know,” wrote Jobs in the letter announcing his resignation. “Unfortunately, that day has come.” The Wall Street Journal reported Friday that Jobs’ funeral, described as a “small private gathering,” had been held that same day. Apple CEO Tim Cook wrote in an email to Apple employees released Monday by Reuters that the company would hold a celebration of Jobs’ life on Wednesday, October 19. “Like many of you, I have experienced the saddest days of my lifetime and shed many tears during the past week,” Cook wrote, according to Reuters. “And I’ve found comfort in both telling and listening to stories about Steve.” To see how Apple fans are honoring and remembering Jobs, take a look at the slideshow (below) of photos taken during memorials held around the world. CORRECTION: A previous version of this article included statistics about the survival rates for pancreatic cancer. Jobs suffered from neuroendocrine tumor in his pancreas. According to Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, “Only 5 percent of pancreatic tumors arise in the islet cells. The vast majority of tumors found in the pancreas are adenocarcinoma, which is more commonly referred to as pancreatic cancer.”
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