You may have noticed this blog seems a bit, well, slimmer than usual. This is because I've removed some 5 years of blog posts. I actually only intended to remove a few here and there, but I guess I got carried away and voila. 2 posts. Ah, well! I would like to thank all of my blogmates who were so wonderful to me over the last half decade -- you know who you are. I'd also like to thank the creepy stalker people for making me realize you cannot be a liberal sex tart without attracting a few nutters along the way -- you know who you are, as well.
Blogging was a very exciting experience when I first started out, but over the last year it became sloshy and dull and I really did not enjoy having to blog. Which resulted in a number of large gaps here and there and that's a big sign that you ought to retire from blogging -- so I've heeded the call. I honestly just don't have the energy to do it anymore. I will miss the good times, and I will miss my luvverly blogmates; I wish you all the best with your blogs.
To clarify a few things: I no longer have time to do blog design, so if you're looking for my blogbunnie site, it's retired. I no longer run the Sex Talk blog because there were just too many questions coming in every day for one person to answer and I'm not a corporation, so that blog has also been retired. I no longer write for AskMen.com for a number of reasons, the least of which not being I don't enjoy being badly edited by male editors who change titles and content to incite the wrath of females who think I must be a guy to write such crass things from time to time -- newsflash: it *was* a guy with a heavy, liberal editing pen. But that is neither here nor there anymore as I have really grown out of the whole sex columnist thing, as well as the sex blogger thing. I think I'm all sexed out, to be honest. Perhaps a nunnery is in order? No, no, I jest.
I still continue to write articles for various organizations, but very rarely deal with anything sex or relationship oriented anymore. I actually think I've already covered every topic in those genres that was of any interest to me, anyway. How many hundreds of articles can one write about sex before you just have to yawn? About 700, apparently!
I do still write books, of course, but no longer have any tolerance for erotic romance. I think I overdosed on it. My last book was a romantic comedy -- published under a different penname, of course -- and if you can believe it, I've switched to cyberpunk. I have no idea why, as I don't even read the genre, nor have any real interest in Sci-Fi, but this book (one in a series of 3) simply insists on being written so I figured I ought to just do it and see if it ends up being successful. Under yet another penname, as you might have guessed.
So, that's it for Isabella Snow, y'all. Apart from the articles I publish under this name, there will be no more books, and most of the articles I'm writing these days are more metaphysical than physical, so I'd imagine my pervier blogmates would get bored very quickly. And that's fine! I just wanted to blow everyone a big kiss and say thanks for being the bestest, and I wish you all the best with your blogs and whatever else you've got going in your fabulous lives.
June 18, 2010
September 11, 2006
On September 11, 2001 Carr Futures investment bank lost 69 employees on the 92nd floor of Tower One. 64 year old Robert Lane Cruikshank was one of them. If you're wondering why I mentioned the other 68 victims first -- I think Mr. Cruikshank would have been offended had I not.
You see, he was the kind of vice president who truly cared for his employees. The kind of man whose colleagues from 30 years past cried at the news of his passing. He was the kind of man who gave chances, when other employers wouldn't hire the inexperienced. The kind of man who broke out the champagne for career advancements and anniversaries. He was the kind of man who made you feel special.
A man you wanted to work for.
Robert Cruikshank was born in Pennsylvania and spent his childhood in Bellevue, Illinois. He studied economics at Princeton university, from which he graduated in 1958. Prestigious degree in hand, he would then embark on what could only be called a most impressive career. He returned to Illinois, sharing his expertise on national and international monetary affairs with several corporations over the years. He even chaired the executive committee of the Chicago Board Options Exchange prior to joining the Equity Group - a Chicago based real estate investment firm. But there was more to this man than just work. He was an avid sportsman who kept himself in excellent condition. Skiing, golf and tennis were several of his passions, the last of which you see memorialized on his 9/11 quilt below.
The other image you see on the quilt is that of a house, with the words "Mountain De Open Dour" inscribed upon it. It's a symbol of the home he and his wife of 39 years, Marianne, shared in Stratton. A home I'm certain must be filled with loving memories. I'm also certain Mr. Cruikshank had a brilliant sense of humor, and I arrived at this conclusion after reading the following quote from his son, Douglass:
"While I'm not familiar with the actual logistics of traveling to Heaven, I am 100 percent sure of two things: 1) that Dad purchased the lowest-cost coach fare; and 2) that he found a way to upgrade, in advance, to First Class. Goodbye, Dad. We love you so much."
That a man could be remembered as he truly was - and not simply as the man he no longer is - this is the mark of someone special. Mourning is easy. Keeping a man's memory alive in the way he would have wished it - few can boast of such an accomplishment. To have lived your life in such a way that people can only smile at the thought of you - this is the true test of who you were in life. This man is remembered with love, loyalty and laughter. How many of us will be able to say the same when our time comes?
Not many, of this I'm sure.
Robert Lane Cruikshank was survived by his wife Marianne, daughter Christine, son Douglass, daughter-in-law Lisa, granddaughter Lindsey, as well as his mother, older brother and two sisters. In closing, I leave you with a quote from the woman who knew him best: "You could trust him. Grown men have been here crying. He was a rock to everyone we knew."
I believe you, Mrs. Cruikshank. I really, really do.
Posted by Isabella Snow on 9/11/2006