THANK YOU FROM HANSEN FOUNDATION

Heartfelt Thanks
to the Sponsors, Supporters & Volunteers
of our 16th Annual Golf Tournament
September 25, 2012.

Our event was a HUGE success, and we couldn't have done it without you!

Ole Hansen & Sons . The Press of AC . Levine Staller Attorneys at Law
Creative Financial Group . RK Kia of Vineland . Dondero's Diamonds & Fine Jewelry
The Azeez Foundation . Universal Supply Company . Hidden Creek Golf Club . Print Art
Mr. & Mrs. Roger Hansen . Mr. & Mrs. Mark Auerbach . Met Life . Glenn Insurance Company
The James & Barbara Summers Family Foundation . NorthMarq Advisors LLC . Holman Automotive Group
McKella 280 . Shore Medical Center Foundation . Callen Construction . Adams, Rehman & Heggan
Tuckahoe Turf Farms . Fulton Bank of NJ . AtlantiCare . Cooperstown Baseball Group, Inc.
Kline Construction . Katherine Weiland . Driftwood Camping Resorts, Inc. . Kevin Brennan . Joe Capano
United States Liability Insurance Group . Third Base Sports & Trophies . Charles & Kathleen Previti
Seabrook House . Saul Ewing LLP . Avalon Carpet Tile & Flooring . Tishman Construction Corp of NJ
Stephen Kay Golf Course Design LLC . Gruccio, Pepper, DeSanto & Ruth, P.A. . Dr. & Mrs. John Lorenzetti
The Woods at Blue Heron Pines . Newfield National Bank . Binder Machinery . Stanker & Galetto, Inc.
J. Louis McCraw . James Gandy, CPA . Harrison Beverage Co. . RLG Associates . Chris Esbenshade
Serago Roberts Jewelers . Cathy Vinnicombe . Guy Deninger . Dixon Associates Engineering LLC
Rich Energy Solutions . The Frank & Victoria Rich Family Foundation . The Espoma Company
Patricia Katchen . Marion Butler . Feather Ventures . De Rossi & Son. Co. . Broadley's Mechanical
Hanlon Investment Management, Inc. . Wells Fargo Advisors, LLC . A.E. Stone . Carol Brigio
J.E. Rosenkrantz Consulting Engineer LLC . Kramer Beverage Company . Ocean City Home Bank
The Richard Stockton College of NJ . Susan & Bob Mayer . Just 4 Wheels . Falasca Mechanical
Edward & Cathy Kane . The Waldele Family . G.E. Mechanical . Mark Gerencser . Margate Community Church
Family Practice Associates of Cumberland County, P.C. . U.S. Trust, Bank of America Private Wealth Management
Rastelli Seafood LLC . U.S. Foodservice . Seashore Fruit & Produce . Pepsi Bottling Group
Specialties La Cote Basque . Barretta Plumbing Heating & Cooling . Richard Lockwood
Young's Skating Center . Mercedes-Benz of Atlantic City . Cindy & Joseph Riggs . Jennifer Morris
Gold Transportation Services . Rich Fire Protection . Peter Lumber Company . Cornelius McPeak
Sound Advice & Video . Susanin Widman & Brennan, PC . Club Car . Ilene Daniels . Binder Machinery
Suzan Binder . Gibson Associates, P.A. . Tri City Products . Mr. & Mrs. Roger Rubin . Carmella Harker
Phoenix Business Forms, Inc. . Senator Jim Whelan . Daniel Thoren . Paper Chase . Hannah G's Restaurant
Milton & Betty Katz JCC of Atlantic County . Sand Barrens Golf Club . Steve & Cookies by the Bay
Ventura's Green House . Artistic Hardware . Barbara's - A Fashion Experience
Barista's Coffee House . Blue Heron Golf Club . Body Architects . Essential Elements . Esthetica
Finale - The Final Act in Beauty . Fisher's Shoes . Freund Brothers . Greenberg Chiropractic
Harbor Pines Golf Club . Home Buddys . Joelle's Card & Gift Boutique . John Kelly Interior Design, Inc.
Latz's by the Bay . Leisure & Lace . Linwood Custom Jeweler . Mays Landing Country Club . MYOGA
Pamela's Health & Harmony . Paul Dempsey Photography . Sandi Point Coastal Bistro . Secret Garden Florist
Smithville Inn . The Bake Works . Tiffany . Tilton Athletic Club . Tomatoe's . Yoga Nine
Ed Diehl . Joanna Helfrich . Melanie Rice . Lori Burke . Audrey Carter . Jim & Khristine Briggs
Nick Weinstein . Joe Capano . Rick Barker . Steve Dicarlo . Chris Comer . Torie Rich
Michael Leonardo . Thomas Freund . Steve Fabietti . Patrick McKoy . George Harper
Jason Watson . Amy Manzione . Michael Thomas . Michael Lentz . Nina Soifer
Tim Glenn . John Ruskey . Holly Jeffries Dionne . Christie Goddard
Cianel Palmer . Hansen House Volunteers

www.hansenfoundationnj.org





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HALFWAY THERE FLORIDA

MissionTo provide any individual who wishes to escape from the torment of Addiction with an environment, an example and comprehensive resources and program components, through which to both attain and maintain a lifestyle of healthful and prolonged Recovery, and to design & implement this aspiration in a way that demonstrates outstanding rates of efficacy.
Description
Halfway There of South Florida has been providing a residential living environment highly-conducive to sustained recovery, for over a decade, now. Its high success rate is rooted in.


• A Strong Recovery Ethic
• A Family-Oriented Setting
. Pet Friendly
• Comprehensive Program Resources


Addiction is a Multi-Faceted Condition which requires an equally Multi-Dimensional Treatment

1100 SW 4th ave
Delray Beach, Florida 33444
Always open

Phone (352) 339-5476
Email Carie@halfwaythereflorida.com
Website http://www.halfwaythereflorida.com

Booze to Flow Through Disney's Magic Kingdom

A Beauty and the Beast-themed restaurant needs alcohol to be authentic, park bosses decide.
By Chrisanne Grise

09/17/12  Source :The Fix

"You have your purists. You have the people saying. 'Walt is spinning in his grave'" admits A.J. Wolfe, editor of theDisney Food Blog. She reports a 50-50 split in reader opinion on a new decree in Disney's Magic Kingdom: for the first time in the park's 41 years, guests will be able to buy booze. But before we start conjuring images of drunken mobs brutalizing Mickey Mouse and friends, the wine and beer will only be sold at one specific restaurant and only during dinner hours. The "Be Our Guest" restaurant is based on Beauty and the Beast, and will serve French cuisine, which apparently demands alcoholic accompaniments. "You cannot walk into a French restaurant and not get a glass of wine or beer," explains Maribeth Bisienere, vice president of food and beverage for Walt Disney Parks. "It made more sense to do it than not to do it." Be Our Guest will now offer 20 wines and several Belgian and French beers. Says Bisienere, "We really wanted to wait until it became something that worked with the particular theme."

Puking Myself Clean

After realizing with horror that I'd become a full-on opium fiend, I needed a private and cheap way to kick. The infamous "Thai puking rehab" turned out to be my best bet.




By Steven Martin  Source The Fix

09/13/12

“You are going to suffer,” an old monk said to me upon my arrival at Wat Tham Krabok, a Buddhist monastery a couple of hours north of Bangkok, after I’d introduced myself as an opium addict.

Buddhist monasteries have traditionally acted as places of refuge. Wat Tham Krabok is no exception, but this particular wat (Thai for “Buddhist monastery”) goes above and beyond tradition. Here, under the auspices of monks, novices, and nuns in toga-like robes, you will find scores of recovering drug addicts from countries all over the globe, ready to take a particularly unpalatable cure involving five days of induced high-intensity vomiting.


I needed a way to get clean with as little attention and expense as possible, and the monastery on the edge of the jungle seemed the only way out.

The detox facility at Wat Tham Krabok had been founded specifically to treat opium addiction, but that was fifty years earlier, back when the vice was commonplace. Now, except for that one elderly monk, no one at the wat remembered ever having treated an opium habitué. He backed off from his initial pronouncement when he found that I had been heavily into it for only a few months. “We used to get addicts who had been smoking opium daily for ten or twenty years,” the old monk explained. “The local people used to complain that at night they could hear the addicts’ screams all the way into town.”

These were my unusual circumstances when I arrived at Wat Tham Krabok in November of 2007: After helping to report a story for the Asian edition of Time magazine in 2001, about how Chinese-style opium dens had somehow survived the 20th century in isolated, landlocked Laos, I had become a self-taught expert on opium paraphernalia. This in turn inspired curiosity as to how the relics were used, and I began experimenting with the drug—vaporizing opium in the traditional manner with a long bamboo pipe held over a glowing oil lamp while reclining on a woven grass mat.

But after seven years of curious dabbling I had awoken from my pleasant dream and found myself a voracious opium fiend with a 30-pipe-a-day habit. My costly and time-consuming vice had left my editors bewildered and my bank account empty. I needed a way to get clean with as little attention and expense as possible, and the monastery on the edge of the jungle seemed the only way out.

There were about fifty drug addicts in treatment at Wat Tham Krabok when I arrived, a handful of them foreigners like myself. The vast majority were Thai men who were there for methamphetamine; the Westerners were a mixed bag, both in gender and the habits which they were trying to kick. Among the Westerners, I was a standout not only for my anachronistic addiction, but for the fact that I was fluent in the local vernacular. Thus, despite having just arrived at the wat, I soon found myself acting as a liaison between the Thai monks and the Western addicts, many of whom had recently arrived in Thailand specifically to take the cure and were very much out of their element. My circumstances gave me some unique insight into the workings of the monastery and its unusual detox technique.

The daily routine began before long dawn, when the ringing of an old schoolyard bell shattered the morning calm and almost invariably startled me out of some fevered dream. A bed and surroundings to which I have yet to become accustomed usually guarantee that I’ll be visited by nightmares, and coming off opium seemed to push my nocturnal musings to disturbing levels of intensity. Yet awakening to find myself at the wat didn’t exactly bring immediate feelings of reassurance. Here I was starting my first day of treatment, wearing a strange uniform in a strange place, and surrounded by strangers.

The first order of the day was sweeping. Crude bamboo brooms were handed out and dead leaves that had dropped from the wat’s many mango trees were swept into small piles. The task was carried out in the dark, and there was minimal talking among the fifty or so addicts taking part. This daily chore was of the sort that could be termed “mindless,” but it also afforded some time for self-reflection. We swept leaves for about half an hour, and then made offerings of burning incense sticks to a shrine containing the mortal remains of the monastery’s founding abbot. Whispering in the darkness, we all regrouped for morning calisthenics.

Thai culture is by nature non-confrontational, but I noticed one of the monks carrying a yardstick-length bamboo stick just in case some persuasion was necessary. Still, for a place housing scores of young men coming off meth, the monastery had a surprisingly mellow vibe. The morning routine ended with roll call and a cup of bitter tea that was said to cleanse the blood of toxins. After breakfast, addicts who had already completed their initial five days of detox (which included the all-important vomiting cure) were grouped into working parties and led off to different corners of the monastery. For the newly arrived like myself, the midday hours were free, and this allowed me to get to know some my fellow addicts and the Thai station.

It was during this time that I met Saundra, a forty-something former heroin user from England who had completed the detox years before and then decided to take the vows of a Buddhist nun and extend her stay at the monastery indefinitely—something all successful participants in the program have the option to do. With a shaved head and eyebrows, and wrapped in a white robe, Saundra described to me how the vomiting cure was supposed to work.

I was to take this most important part of the treatment over five consecutive days. A secret elixir, the ingredients of which were said to have come to its discoverer in a dream, had to be downed from a shotglass in a single gulp. The potion was a purge and not to be digested. The articles I had previously read about Wat Tham Krabok were illustrated with photos of spectacular bouts of projectile puking—but this was not typical. Saundra told me that I might have to stick a finger down my throat to get the vomiting started. I would be joined by a number of other addicts who were also on their first five days of the cure.

I then jammed two fingers down my throat and, as though priming a pump, this act brought forth torrents of rust-colored puke.

The treatment was the main event of the day and very much public. In fact, busloads of schoolchildren were sometimes in attendance—in hopes that the nauseating spectacle would be a deterrent to future drug use. “The trick is to stay relaxed and focused,” Saundra advised. “Block out the noise around you. As long as you stay focused you’ll not have any problems.”

I might have backed out of the program had I known beforehand exactly what I was getting myself into. The purge was done outdoors on a wide concrete patio, where I kneeled with a handful of other addicts over a shallow cement trough. There was no doubt about what function the reeking pit was going to serve.

Without ceremony, a monk poured the muddy potion from a bottle into a shot glass, and then handed it to me. I did not stop to think about what was about to happen or sniff at the glass, but instead knocked back the dose like it was a shot of tequila. The taste was absolutely vile, and I shuddered. But despite the withering vapors venting through my nostrils and the burning lump sliding into my gut, I did not immediately vomit. A monk instructed me to drink as much water as I could hold, and I gulped down cup after cup until I was woozy. Still there was no urge to vomit. As Saundra had advised, I then jammed two fingers down my throat and, as though priming a pump, this act brought forth torrents of rust-colored puke.

I vomited until the deluge became dry heaves. Exhausted, I wiped the strings of saliva and snot from my mouth and nose and tried to catch my breath. Saundra shouted at me over the noise of the crowd: “You’re not finished! You have to get all the medicine out of your body. Drink more water! Just like before, drink until you are going to burst!”

Addicts on either side of me were doing the same, all while a crowd of spectators sang songs to conga-drum rhythms and cavorted about while we gagged and retched. All of it was meant to be encouragement, of course—moral support from the addicts who had already completed their five days of vomiting. In the end Saundra was right: Staying focused on the goal of breaking my addiction got me though a week that was as demanding as it was miraculous.

Except for food and drink, treatment at Wat Tham Krabok is free, and, like all Buddhist monasteries, it relies on donations. Anyone contemplating a visit should remember that the place is not a day spa. Show up expecting to be waited on hand and foot, and you will not last long. Living conditions at the watare very typical of Buddhist monastic life, which is to say they are decidedly rustic.

Statistics on how many are able to stay clean and how many have relapses vary widely, but at Wat Tham Krabok one thing is certain: You can only do the cure one time. Once you check out of the monastery’s drug detox program, you will not be allowed to check back in, no matter how unique your excuse for having had that setback.

On my last day at the wat, I met with the abbot. He placed in my hand a ring with the monastery’s name engraved around a blue stone, and a slip of paper with a short Buddhist mantra written on it. Both were to remind me of my time at Wat Tham Krabok, and to help me fight temptation. The abbot made it clear that the week I had just completed was the easy part—that the real test lay ahead. In my jubilant state, newly free of my 19th-century addiction, I failed to take his warning seriously.

Freelance writer Steven Martin was born and raised in San Diego, and has spent the past three decades traveling and living in Southeast Asia. Steven’s memoir, Opium Fiend: A 21st Century Slave to a 19th Century Addiction, was published in July by Villard, an imprint of Random House.

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Treating Alcoholism Reduces Financial Burden on Families, Study Finds

By Join Together Staff | September 28, 2012 | Leave a comment | Filed inAlcohol & Research

Treating alcoholism saves families money, largely by cutting down on expenses related to alcohol and cigarettes, a new study finds.

The study of 48 German families with an alcoholic member found that after one year of treatment, family costs directly related to alcoholism dropped from an average of $832 per month to $178 per month, according to HealthDay.

Costs for alcohol fell from an average of $310 per month to $87 per month, while cigarette costs dropped from $114 per month to $79 per month after a year of treatment. The average amount of time spent caring for an alcoholic family member decreased from 32 hours each month to eight hours a month.

“When they look at effects on families, addiction studies mainly focus on problems such as domestic violence and depression, not on the financial burden of caring for an alcoholic,” lead researcher Dr. Hans Joachim Salize said in a news release. “But when health services and policymakers study the costs and benefits of treating alcoholism, they need to know that treatment has an immense financial effect not just on the alcoholic but also on his or her spouse, partner, children and parents. The benefits of treatment reach well beyond the individual patient.”

The results appear in the journal Addiction