More Of The Good Stuff

I found the sweatshirt on Amazon. Didn’t order it, but will try the words on instead.

During a recent weekend trip to New Smyrna Beach I saw a guy wearing an interesting t-shirt.

Using my trusty iPhone I discreetly took a picture so I could decipher the treatise he displayed on his shirt.
Here’s what it said:

More Music. More Love.

More Sunsets. More Kindness.

More Road Trips. More Hugs.

More Fun. More Peace.

More Wandering. More Art.

More Laughs. More Dreaming.

More Adventures. More Happiness.

More Concerts. More Smiles.

More Freedom. More Creativity.

More Movie Nights. More Life.

I can’t argue with a single word. 

I didn’t see what the back of his shirt said but maybe it was a companion list of what he’d like to see less of. 

That list could be endless. But that “more” list… well that’s kind of special. I can’t stop thinking about it. 

Recently a friend told me about the four pillars of life: work, family, love and spirituality. Build all four pillars and you’ll find fulfillment. 

I can’t argue with that. But I do think life is a journey not a destination and your work continues until you can work no more. 

Anyway, I think I will keep the t shirt list nearby and use it as a guide. 

Last week, as I perused the news I became momentarily overwhelmed: Ukraine, inflation, lawsuits , predictions of a depression in the 2030s and Russia getting some crazy weapon we don’t have an answer for yet. It can drag a person down. It can make you want to cut that t shirt up and chuck it all. 

Not me. I’m not going down that path. 

So I did when I usually do when I’m feeling on the brink, I hugged my wife and lost myself in some music. 

“Late Night Willie Nelson” popped up in my Spotify feed. Yes! A brand new Willie album that features the amazing Norah Jones and Wynton Marsalis. 

And I thought how lucky are we to be alive right now. 

If it all ends tomorrow–and I don’t think it will– we will have been around to listen to The Beatles, we heard Joni Mitchell sing and listened to lyrics by Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Paul Simon. 

We got to see Patrick Mahomes play QB, Roger Federer glide around a court and Michael Jordan soar through the air. 

We got to go to the movies and watch Brando command the screen and we got to see the most perfect romantic comedy ever: “When Harry Met Sally.”

We see people cured of cancer who were once sentenced to die and we see foster children find permanent homes because of our own 4Kids of South Florida. I can go on and on. What a wonderful life. 

The same day I saw the t shirt, I stood on a beach at night with my wife and her family. My family.  I adore these people.  I listened as my brother in law Paul pointed his phone toward the heavens and opened an app that told us what constellations we were looking at. I marveled. 

Such a night. It’s such a night. 

Sweet confusion under the moonlight.

As I write this I am listening to Willie Nelson sing Stardust. Friends, it doesn’t get better than this. 

So let’s add more stargazing and more Willie to that t shirt list. 

More gratitude too. 

Reunions

Remembering our time in Oz while enjoying Elisabetta’s.

Recently, I reunited with three guys I went to college with at Suny Oswego.

I hadn’t seen two of the guys for 38 years—ever since we left the shores of Lake Ontario to embark on this mystery ride, we call life.

We managed to stay in touch via Facebook.  I watched their lives unfold on social media. Birthdays, trips, graduations. It’s fun to keep tabs.

But seeing each other in person was special.

We met at Elisabetta’s on Atlantic Avenue, and we wore Oswego State baseball hats to mark the occasion.

The hats served as a calling card, and we had at least six people come to the table to present their SUNY bonafides. This one went to Cortland, another one went to Oneonta, and one had a friend who went to Oswego. It was fun to compare notes.

Seeing people after 38 years apart is an interesting experience. Last time, I saw Joe and David, their entire lives were ahead of them. Last time I saw Stu was 10-12 years ago when we met at Brule in Pineapple Grove for a beer.

I’m proud to report that everyone did well in life and love. They are successful professionals with happy marriages and kids who are doing very well. I found myself taking pride in these guys—I had seen them when they were young and wild. And we shared those stories, filling in details that one or more of us forgot. It was fun to relive those days—pre-cell phone, one computer on the floor of the dorm, when Prince, Madonna, Michael Jackson, and Bruce Springsteen ruled the radio.

We spent our nights at the Tavern and on Bridge Street and quite honestly, I don’t remember talking much about the future. We were living in the moment, careening from good time to good time. It was a special time in life.

Anyway, we vowed not to wait another 38 years to get together (the odds aren’t that good for us to make it) and I certainly encourage you to reconnect with old friends. It was a very memorable evening and I must say these guys loved the Avenue, which also made me feel good.  I went home at 9:30. They were just getting started.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name…

Delray Lakes has been home for more than 20 years.

Our neighbors moved recently.

Whenever friends leave it’s a mixed bag; you’re happy for their new start but you’re sad to see them go. The special people in our lives make all the difference.

The special places also play a significant role in our happiness.

We live in a special place called Delray Lakes.

We’re blessed with a terrific location—close to so much but tucked away and quiet too.

If I can get across Lake Ida Road and make a left, I can be downtown in five minutes. My street has a tree canopy that is beautiful, the homes and lawns are well-kept and if you don’t pressure wash your driveway…well let’s just say you’ll hear about it from the management company.

But the true strength of our neighborhood are the neighbors themselves. We live alongside very nice people.

In a world that often feels crazy, there’s no underestimating the value of having good neighbors who care for each other. In short, we are lucky, and we know it.

When I was a kid, we moved around a little bit.

I went to four elementary schools and looking back it did me a world of good. As the perennial new kid in school, I learned to make friends and that has served me well. But I also think it has unconsciously made me want to be more rooted and truth be told, I’m sensitive to change.

We lived in suburbia— suburban Long Island to be precise, in tract housing built by Levitt Homes, the inventor of the burbs.

Suburbia takes a beating in some of the circles where I spend time– namely new urbanists and city lovers— many who think that the burbs are boring. Now, I love my urban oriented friends and share their passion for cities. But when it comes to suburbia a few of them are misguided.

While I embrace the concepts espoused by the new urbanists and am a fan of walkability, density done right and beautifully designed streets, I must admit that I had a great time in the suburban neighborhoods I’ve lived in.

Intellectually, I understand that the neighborhoods of my childhood weren’t the most efficient use of land. I recognize that subdivisions can be isolating and that they force you into a car for just about everything, but when I was a kid we spent our lives outdoors, we knew our neighbors well and every time I stepped out my door I could find a pickup game of basketball, baseball or football.

We were hardly ever lonely and hardly ever bored. And the Levitt Homes I lived in: Strathmore Village in what is now South Setauket and the “M” section (where every street started with the letter M) in Stony Brook were full of friendly neighbors who looked out for each other.

And we had plenty of interesting characters everywhere we roamed. The house just beyond my backyard was occupied briefly by the writer Sloan Wilson, who wrote “The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit” and “A Summer Place.” Both were made into movies. I knew his daughter well, but I don’t ever recall seeing the man himself, which made it even more romantic for me—a budding writer. Over in the “S” section, where my best friends lived (and where the streets all started with…you guessed it…the letter S) the future comedian Kevin James was a year behind us in school. He played football and was a good Little League pitcher. In fact, he once hit me with a pitch so hard that I was hurting for weeks.

There were others too…stickball legends, a kid who had a beard in the 6th grade and plenty of bushes where we used to stash warm cases of Tuborg beer that we somehow got our hands on.

We stayed outside late on summer evenings talking under the streetlights, shooting hoops in our friend’s driveways, and talking endlessly about girls, cars, sports, music and the future.

I wish I could go back to that sweet and innocent time for just a bit. To quote Andy Bernard from The Office: “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”

Our home in the M Section. Buyers used to be able to purchase a Levitt home for $500 down. Today, these homes are over $600,000 and over 50 years old.

Delray Lakes reminds me of those neighborhoods. The neighbors play Mah Jong together, take walks, know each other’s dogs, play pickleball, go to the pool and look out for each other.

We watch the local kids grow like weeds, we kvetch about neighborhood maintenance issues, and we wave to each other and sit at the end of our driveways at Halloween greeting the little ones.

The place just feels good.

In a world that often feels like it’s gone off its axis, you can’t put a price on feeling good.

So, when neighbors move it’s a big deal. And right now, there’s a mini transition occurring.

As time passes, our needs change. Some move to more affordable locations (South Florida has become an expensive place to live and our location east of 95 means ridiculously high property insurance rates). Others move because the kids are grown, or they need to be closer to family.

It all adds up to change and transitions, which while necessary and unavoidable, are almost always bittersweet.

I will miss my neighbors who moved and a few others whose homes are for sale. We will stay in touch with some, lose touch with others and we will embrace the new neighbors who move in, but it won’t be quite the same.

When I lived in Strathmore Village, I knew everyone on at least three streets near my house. I knew every kid, every dog, every basketball backboard. We knew each other’s parents and they knew us too.

This was my experience, and it was a good one. The experience I had shaped my life.

I was six when we moved to Redwood Lane in Strathmore Village, and one day a little boy named David rode his bike to my street and saw me outside.

Dave had baseball cards to trade and that was all it took. We’ve been talking ever since that day, 52 years and counting. Through all those elementary schools, through the awkward junior high “wonder years”, through our rollicking high school years, through college, first jobs, marriage, kids and many more moves. Dave to Wisconsin, me to Delray Beach.

Through cancer and Covid, the death of parents and grandparents we know the ups and downs of each other’s lives.

We kept talking. (And I occasionally get a word in).

And it all started as neighbors in Strathmore Village.

When we moved to Stony Brook, that same neighborhood experience happened.

I’m afraid that the concept of neighborhood and neighbors that I knew and cherished may be heading to the dustbin of history.

Both the Financial Times and the New York Times had stories just last week about more and more people living alone.

Young people in their 20s and 30s who live by themselves and often work remotely, (my kids among them) and folks over 50 who have never married or are widowed or divorced.

Apparently, this takes a toll on our mental and physical health.

We are social creatures, not meant to be alone.

One town in the U.K. is experimenting with trained conversationalists. They have set up tables in cafes and designated park benches where if you sit down a trained “talker” will be there to engage you.

Apparently, it’s working. People who participate seem to respond.

But while that’s good news, I can’t help but feel a little sad that it has come to this.

But not in my neighborhood.

I’m not home a lot and when I am, I relish my couch time. But just outside my door, are neighbors I know, like and trust. They are living their lives too, but I’m pretty sure they know that what we have is  special and so when one of us leaves the Lakes…well…it’s a big deal.

As it should be…

Grace & Leadership Under Pressure

Did you see the press conference with U. S. Soccer Team Captain Tyler Adams?

The one where he was goaded by a member of the Iranian press?

If you haven’t here’s a link. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1fCbczD3UU

In 60 seconds, Mr. Adams shows class, confidence, maturity and intelligence. In short, it’s a minute long master class in leadership.

Rather than take the bait and fire back at the disrespectful “reporter,” Adams kept his cool and calmly answered. He even deftly turned the tables on his questioner by apologizing for mispronouncing Iran and making a case that in the United States we are working on our flaws and making progress every day.

It would have been easier and perhaps more satisfying to have pointed out to the Iranian interviewer that a country that is murdering and imprisoning its citizens for speaking out, has no business questioning other countries.

But Mr. Adams, only 23 but apparently packed full of wisdom, chose the more difficult and more interesting path. He talked about being raised by white parents and having to assimilate into different cultures. He mentioned his African American heritage and talked about the American experiment and the notion that we are all working toward a more perfect union.

I can see why this young man is the team captain and it’s easy to predict that he will do some extraordinary things on and off the pitch.

Being respectful when attacked or goaded, keeping one’s cool under pressure, and talking lovingly about your country despite its imperfections is the hallmark of leadership.

These days, we tend to shout past one another. We tend to play “gotcha” politics instead of slowing down long enough to take a breath, lean in and listen.

Tyler Adams leaned in and listened. I’m sure it wasn’t lost on him that the reporter was trying to trap him.

How could he stand with the Iranian people when America has discrimination issues?

Well, it’s easy said Mr. Adams. My country is hard at work. We’re making progress, sometimes it’s two steps forward and one back, but we are always striving.

We have the freedom to talk about our concerns and that is not true in places like Iran and too many other places in our world.

He also noted that overcoming differences is a process. “I think as long as you see progress, that’s the most important thing.”

Indeed, it is.

Progress and effort make a difference.

The late Stanford professor John Gardner used to talk about ”tough-minded optimists.’

Don’t you just love that term?

“The future is rarely shaped by people who don’t believe in the future,” Gardner said. “It is created by highly motivated people, by enthusiasts, by men and women who want something very much and believe very much.”

And that sums it up.

Do we have a perfect union? Not by a long shot.

Are we working on it?

You betcha.

Tyler Adams reminded many of that simple, but profound and maybe uniquely American concept during that press conference.

Bravo!

Yes, we’ll remember it’s “eer-ran” not “eye-ran.”

But we’ll also remember the grace and the strength of an extraordinary young American.

True Love Stories Never Have Endings

The American Parkinson Disease Association is holding its annual Optimism Run & Walk Oct. 30 at South County Regional Park in West Boca.

There are certain phone calls you’ll never forget.Phone calls that change your life.Three years ago, I got such a call from my wife Diane.

But first some context.

Diane’s sister Joan had recently passed after a brave and brutal battle with a rare cancer.

Diane and her siblings went to Santa Cruz to spend those last sad days with a sister who had been larger than life. Joan was one of a kind—tough, independent, kind, spirited, smart.Losing her was like losing a limb, she was fundamental to our family dynamics even from her home across the country.When Diane came back she was understandably sad, notably tired and hurting. We all were.Cancer is a frustrating beast. You rally and then you get hit again.

While the impact  is hardest on the patient, the disease hits everyone and it’s path is broad.Still, I sensed something more might have been amiss when Diane returned home. She seemed to be moving a little slower than usual: her gait was off by a hair. But I noticed.Over the ensuing weeks which included holidays, I asked our kids and family to let me know if they thought something was “off” with Diane.Some thought so, others didn’t notice. Like I said, it was subtle.

But I knew something was not quite right, and I asked that she get checked out. She was suffering from pain in a shoulder and weakness on one side, but despite treatment the symptoms persisted.So she went for another opinion. This time, to a neurologist.The diagnosis: Parkinson’s. Just the word takes the air out of you. She could barely get the word out over the phone when she told me.It’s a heavy diagnosis and we were shocked.

Parkinson’s is a progressive disease.

There’s no cure—but there’s hope and Herculean efforts are being made to treat the disease and ultimately find an answer.Until then you do what you can to cope and fight back.You also load up on hope, love, information and support.And here’s where awe takes over.I’m in awe of my wife.

Just when you think you know someone, just when you think you can’t love or respect them more, you find that she possesses whole other reserves of strength, resilience and beauty.It took a few weeks for her “fight” to kick in. A few weeks of emotion and deep depression. I was worried. She didn’t seem up for this challenge. And she said so in worrying terms.But she was processing the news and the impact it would have on our lives.

In an attempt to sort through the noise and anxiety we were experiencing, we reached out to friends who connected us with people they knew who had Parkinson’s. We soaked up as much information as we could find, and came through this process with a strong desire to lean in to our new reality and live with gusto.

The people Diane spoke with were inspirational. Through a friend we connected with a retired airline pilot who was positive and upbeat and living an amazing life. He called Parkinson’s an “inconvenience.”  Diane was taken by his confidence and sense of self. We also spoke to a friend’s aunt who was traveling far and wide—living fully and in the moment. She was encouraging and urged Diane to strive for a full and adventurous life.

These calls helped enormously. I saw a change in Diane. She was processing the news rapidly. Her inner strength, which I have seen before, would be there once more.

But while we were grasping the meaning of this diagnosis, we were also beginning to shift as a family. For us, “someday” had come. Instead of deferring to the future, we would begin to do the things most important to us now.

The takeaway from everyone we spoke too about Parkinson’s was you have to keep moving. The best defense against Parkinson’s was exercise: boxing, spin classes, walking, exercise videos, “Rock Steady” classes anything that keeps you moving and works to keep your balance and strength.In typical fashion, Diane hit it hard. She works out every day—sometimes more than once. She’s in amazing shape.

She also found a wonderful doctor at FAU’s Research Park and has surrounded herself with a community that cheers each other on.To say we’re proud would be an understatement. Those who know and love Diane are in awe.She’s inspiring.

As her husband, I have long been fascinated by the different layers of Diane’s personality. Because she’s shy and reserved, only those closest to her see the depth of her character. But to me, that made uncovering her layers all the more special. She was sharing her professional gifts with the community during her very public career, but I got to see the rest and there was so much more to explore and discover.

To see her resolve kick in, to see her try and find the “gifts” in her diagnosis, gave all of us who adore Diane comfort and hope. This was important, because if you allow yourself you can easily fall down a rabbit hole of despair.

When Diane got the news I had just spoken at the funeral of a beloved Delray icon who suffered for years with Parkinson’s. I saw how this disease can level a strong person. I also thought about Michael J. Fox and Muhammad Ali, two people with all the resources in the world but still…

But we also learned that we don’t know our exact path. We are going to try and write our own story. We are going to have faith, do what we can and not allow this or anything else to define us.

I drew on those lessons a few months later when I got Covid and thought that I might die.

I was also told that if I lived, I may need supplemental oxygen for the rest of my life. But my doctor, Paige Morris, said “Jeff, let’s write our own story. Let’s try.”And we did.

I can feel the limits of my scarred lungs but I don’t need oxygen. And while I cannot keep up with Diane, who is in great shape, I do try and hang with her when we put on an exercise video.When we went to Maine this summer (because tomorrow is here) we took long walks every morning and I marveled at her stamina.She is doing well. And I love her even more if that’s even possible because she meets life’s challenges with a work ethic and an attitude that inspires all those who know her.

None of us knows what the future holds. Our lives can be changed with a phone call. Ours surely has been.But we move forward. We live. We are thankful and hopeful.

Always hopeful that we can write our own story….

In two weeks, there’s a walk and 5K run for Parkinson’s in West Boca.The event raises money for Parkinson’s research.Here’s a link. https://apdaparkinson.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.event&eventID=998

At last year’s event, Diane and I walked alongside brave families on the same path. The event was emotional for both of us. We saw a lot of brave people. But we didn’t see any broken people. Looking around the park that morning I felt the spirit of a community. I also saw Diane’s doctor, Henry Moore. There he was, early on a Saturday morning greeting his patients with a big smile and a whole lot of warmth. I knew he was the right man for the job. I knew Diane was in good hands.  It was overwhelming and emotional.

Life changing news will do that to you. That’s why it’s life changing news.

But a year later we are strong, happy, healthy, hopeful and grateful for each other, for those who struggle and for those on the front lines seeking answers. Someday we will get there. Until that time, we laugh. We love. We live; a precious day at a time.

“One word frees us of all the weight and pain of life: that word is love.” – Sophocles

Vision Endures, Politics Fade

The majestic Back Cove Trail in Portland, ME.

In my book “Adventures in Local Politics” I write about the power of transformational leadership.I’m talking about the kind of leadership that makes an enduring difference, the kind that transcends petty politics, personality conflicts and feuds that serve no one.

That kind of leadership is rare these days.

But needed now more than ever and in every walk of life—government, academia, health care, business, education and the non-profit world.We know these types of leaders when they arrive. They make us feel safe, cared for and excited about the future. They are inspirational visionaries but they are also about getting things done. Ideas are great, but implementation is what really counts. You have to get things done.

The importance  of transformational leadership hit me recently on a long walk on the Back Cove Trail in Portland, Maine.The trail is 3.25 miles long around a picturesque lake brimming with breathtaking views. It’s a simple concept really. Just a trail around a large body of water.But the trail delivers so much more than a dirt path…. the trail speaks to a vision and it embodies the values of a city and it’s long ago mayor—James Phinney Baxter.

The trail and a ring of connecting parks was the brainchild of Mayor Baxter who envisioned an “emerald necklace” around his city.  The Back Cove Trail connects to other open spaces including the magnificent Evergreen Cemetery which is on the National Register of Historic Places and is a wonderful place to soak up history amidst statuary that forces you to slow down and learn about the lives of those who came before us.

Across from the cemetery sits Mayor Baxter Woods, with its mighty white ash trees, shaded vistas and cool pines. The land was gifted to Portland by Mayor Baxter who was quite wealthy in addition to being civic minded which brings us back to the Back Cove Trail.

Mayor Baxter had a vision for a walking trail and public access around the lake and that required private landowners dedicating some property to make it happen.In 1894, Mayor Baxter took Portland City Council members to Boston’s Back Bay Fens to see the restoration efforts by the landscape architects Olmsted, Olmsted, and Eliot.He said, “We may see …what Boston has done in transforming similar vile places into beauty spots.”Baxter hired the Olmsted firm to create a plan but there was opposition.There’s always opposition.But Mayor Baxter pushed ahead.

He convinced landowners to donate a 100 foot strip of land along the shore.  Opponents weren’t impressed. They thought the plan was overly extravagant. This isn’t surprising, there are always people who fight ambition and vision. If they are in charge, they can choke the life out of a place. It’s one thing to discuss design, it’s another to say “don’t do anything, we’re done.”

Friends, we are never done. The future is always watching and waiting. Good leaders, the ones who make a difference, serve the present and try to serve the future as well. They strive to do big and important things. Bad leaders (an oxymoron) get caught up in the nonsense. They major in the minor. Mayor Baxter was not that kind of guy.

More often than not, transformational leaders pay a price. They are OK with that because they believe in their vision.

Baxter lost his bid for re-election and his plan was stalled until he was re-elected. After 23 years, yes 23 years, Back Cove Boulevard opened in 1917 with Baxter riding in the first car along his dream vista. The road was eventually renamed Baxter Boulevard.

Today, it’s a showstopper enjoyed by more than 350,000 walkers, runners and bicyclists a year. In a word, it’s stunning and provides value beyond anything we can measure. After all, how do you measure vision? Beauty? Access to the magic of nature?

What’s important to note was that Mayor Baxter was willing to risk his seat for an important idea. How many politicians are willing to do that?

It’s also important to note that he was later restored to office. I wonder if it’s because voters came around and saw the wisdom in his “emerald” vision.

Today, because of that big idea,  thousands  benefit by using that trail to exercise, sightsee and get inspiration for paintings, photographs and in my case—to write this blog.I’ve seen a few transformational leaders in my time— people whose courage, ability and work ethic enable them to do enduring things.

Locally, I think former Mayor Tom Lynch qualifies, so does Mayor David Schmidt and I was always impressed with what Mayor Nancy Graham did for West Palm Beach.Frances Bourque, who founded Old School Square, qualifies and so do Chiefs Kerry Koen and Rick Overman whose leadership left lasting marks on our fire and police departments.Lynn University President Kevin Ross and Boca Lead founder Bill Mitchell are two other leaders who have transformed their parts of the world.  There are more and we’ll get to them in future blogs but you get the idea.

My book encourages transformational thinking because it’s the only kind of thinking that moves the needle and we need to move the needle. Everywhere you look there are needs and opportunities.I work with a transformational business leader and I’ve witnessed first hand what than can mean for people and industries.Carl DeSantis founded Rexall Sundown back in the day and he and his team (he always shares credit) transformed the vitamin and nutrition space.Then he discovered a small beverage company on 4th Avenue in downtown Delray that recently received a $550 million investment from Pepsi that made headlines all over the world.Carl’s steadfast belief in Celsius enabled the success that has transformed the energy drink space and created a whole lot of shareholder wealth.

Sometimes visions get derailed—for good or temporarily.

Mayor Woods was defeated, came back and completed his vision of an emerald necklace.

Right now, Frances Bourque and those who love Old School Square are wandering the desert waiting for good leadership to return to Delray Beach. But guess what, her vision endures. Those buildings were saved and they will benefit this community once again. So dream big my friends. Support those who have a positive vision.We owe it to the future. Because sometimes–if we are fortunate and if we insist on making the world better— those visions endure.

The emerald necklace endures.

Both Sides Now

What do you see in those clouds?

“Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I’ve looked at clouds that way

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It’s cloud illusions I recall

I really don’t know clouds at all.”

Those lyrics from the Joni Mitchell classic were in my head these last few weeks when I spent some time exploring idyllic small towns in Maine. I’m not really sure why, I haven’t heard the song in years but there it was as I found myself in Kennebunkport which is impossibly beautiful, Boothbay Harbor which teems with charm, Bath which bills itself as Maine’s coolest little city (and just may be), Brunswick with the bucolic Bowdoin College and Cape Elizabeth whose beauty defies description.

In a word, Maine is enchanting, and I find myself falling in love with a place all over again  and realizing that “place” as a concept means a lot to me.

Of course, people are paramount  (with golden retrievers a close second) but place is up there in importance —at least for me.

I’ve been here for a month and that’s enough time to see a few nooks and crannies and to think “hey, this place feels good.” I can see myself spending time here. It’s a good place.  And place is important.

I’m coming back to Delray this week and that’s good too. I’ve never done anything like this before —working remotely so far away from home—but post Covid I’m ready to live life and ready to shake it up a little. I’m ready to indulge some dreams.

If not now, when?

After all, I love it when friends pursue their passions.

My childhood friend  Joe is a nationally ranked “one wheeler” in his age group and loves the sport. He lights up when he talks about his experiences on trails and hanging with the one wheel community.

Another buddy  Ben just came back from a  bike trip in Europe—50 miles a day —and while the mere thought of that makes me sore, Ben would and could do 100 miles a day if he could. He’s always been an adventurer.

While I was looking at clouds on Casco Bay my brother from another mother Scott was coaching baseball and recently took his champion Virginia based team to a major tournament in Tallahassee. They didn’t win, but they are still champs and I’m certain Scott is a great coach just like his dad was; they had a passion for baseball and people too.  That’s an unbeatable combination.

Me, I like to write and explore  places and topics  that interest me.

I came to Maine to fulfill a vow I made to myself when I had a serious case of Covid that landed me in the ICU two years ago.

It’s time to start living—time to see the other side of those clouds that Joni sings about.

Those clouds can get in the way or they can be anything you want them to be.  Two years ago they rained on me pretty hard leaving me alone with my thoughts, hopes, fears and dreams.

I realize I’m privileged to have this experience and fortunate to work for a company that values quality of life and family.

I spend my days grateful for so many things; the beauty that surrounds me, the love I get to enjoy with my wife, family and friends and the simple pleasure of being able to breathe freely again.

This time of year I relive my Covid experience and remember when I could barely draw a breath. Yes, I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now.

Most of us have by the time we hit a certain age. Because while life is precious and beautiful, there’s just no escaping the tough times.  Nobody goes through this life unscathed.

Which brings me back to the concept of place.

Here I enjoy the woods, the rocky coast, the pristine Casco Bay, the architecture and the history.  I also enjoy the kindness.  People here are very nice even through we’re “from away” and even though I’m driving a Subaru with Florida plates.  (P.S. every other car here is a Subaru it’s uncanny).

But as I get ready to return to Delray, my home now for 35 years, I look forward to those Florida sunsets, the magnificent skies and even the cloud bursts that mark our endless summer months. I love Florida and value my now 35 years in the ever changing Sunshine State.

But I do wish more would love her too.

One thing I’ve noticed in Maine is a fierce sense of civic pride.

Mainers love this place, Portlanders really love Portland and in nearby Biddeford they are planning some really special things and they are excited to tell the world.

That’s the vibe everywhere we wandered.

When I visited a store in Kennebunkport the young proprietor told me that many of her friends were returning home to do “cool things.” That’s how it should be, I thought to myself. That’s what you want to hear about a place.

And I thought, you know, we’re kind of tough on Boca and Delray aren’t we?

We complain…a lot.

Too much this and too much that and yes there are serious issues. But…you know what? We live in a magical and cool place. We really do.

Joni was on to something. Maybe we need to look harder to see both sides now.

 

New Vistas…

Greetings from Portland, Maine.

Almost exactly two years ago, Covid almost took me out.
Laying in an ICU bed struggling for every breath,
I began to think about my bucket list.
I don’t know if you have a list but I suspect that you do. Most people I know have a wish list for their lives and as you get older you begin to think about a concept called QTR: or quality time remaining. How do you want to spend the time you might have remaining, knowing of course, that nothing is guaranteed?
After all, I never dreamt my life might end as a result of a virus discovered in a Wuhan, China wet market.
So as I lay there wondering if I’d ever go home, I began to think.
What did I want to do with my quality time remaining if I was granted a Covid reprieve?
My list was relatively short and I think fairly modest: an escape place in Maine and another golden retriever.
Oh, there’s many other things I aspire to do in business and life and I’m out there trying, but time in New England away from the Florida heat and humidity and falling for another golden were at the top of my list.
And thanks to my wife Diane, both have happened.
I’m very grateful. Especially for Diane and for Gracie, our beautiful golden and our new townhouse tucked in the woods in the West End of Portland.
So,  I urge you, my friends, to find your bliss and go for it, if it all possible.
Because life is fragile and time is finite and self care is important.
This blog consistently extols the importance of community and giving back and that’s something I try to do and enjoy doing.
But in order to give, we have to have gas in our tanks and sometimes we need to replenish.
For me, stepping away for a few weeks is a start. The change of scenery has been good so far.
You see new things, breathe different air and you feel your perspective change.
Of course, I miss my friends and my favorite haunts but I’m going to lobby my friends to visit and missing those favorite places only makes me appreciate them even more.
So I encourage you to think about your QTR and to try to make the best of your days.
Today, more than ever, it’s easy to stay connected to home, work, loved ones etc. But it’s also important to refuel, renew and restore.
I wish you all three and abundant health as well.

Show A Little Love For SoFla

Lake Ida Park is a local gem. A great place to walk, play with your dog and enjoy the wildlife.

We recently bought a small escape place in a wooded setting in Portland, Maine.

Having a getaway in Maine became a bucket list item a few years back when Diane and I visited the state to celebrate my 50th birthday. We fell in love with the southern Maine coast. It’s breathtaking.

After a bout with Covid and the painful loss of a few family members and friends who are gone too soon, Diane and I realized that we need to start doing some things we’ve longed to do —right now. Tomorrow is just not guaranteed. That’s a poignant lesson to learn but it’s also freeing in many ways. It’s time to live a little.

While I have always enjoyed traveling, at this stage of the game, I would much rather get to know a specific place. I want to fall in love again. Portland, you’re it.

When you are getting to know a place it’s natural to want to read all you can about it, so I subscribe to Portland Monthly, DownEast, Maine and Yankee magazines.

I read the Facebook pages, follow the Instagram accounts devoted to Maine and scan the headlines in the Press-Herald. It’s fun to learn the history, read the ads, scan the restaurant reviews and follow the ebbs and flows of a new place.

We dream of spending time in our new digs and having a second home will create healthy pressure to take some time off.

We are beginning to be in touch with our new neighbors and it’s exciting to think of the new places we can explore. Of course, Maine has its Delray/Boca connections too and we look forward to seeing our local neighbors in a new locale.

One thing that I’ve noticed when I read the magazines is the loving prose devoted to all things Maine. The descriptions of nature, towns, local businesses, and local characters are rich in details and brimming with civic pride.

Frankly, I think it contrasts with what I see in our local media which is often full of criticism for Florida and our beloved Delray Beach and Boca Raton.

We see laments about rude people, bad drivers, bad service, traffic and all the rest.

Yes, there’s truth to the kvetches (that’s Yiddish for complaints). I’ve been known to kvetch myself from time to time. Ahem….

But friends, South Florida is paradise—at least in wintertime. The weather is sublime, the breezes are refreshing, the ocean is beautiful and there is so much to do and see.

We have a lot to be proud of—a vibrant downtown, great restaurants, some cool new developments, and a very bright future as people flee the taxes and harsh weather of the northeast.

Yes, the summers are brutal. Yes, our politics are often wacky, and we are home to “Florida man” but have you seen Lake Ida on a crisp morning? How beautiful this place is if we can only slow down enough to look.

Have you walked along the beach on a cool winter morning and wondered about those poor people freezing in places like Pittsburgh and yes— Portland, Maine?

Aren’t you excited to see some new restaurants in Mizner Park, have a drink on the roof of The Ray Hotel and marvel at the cool companies flocking to South Florida?

We have a lot of good stuff going on here.

So, my little side hustle in Maine is not a knock-on life here. It’s just a desire to experience something a little different—with far less humidity.

 

 

Eleven Signs Your City Will Succeed

The city won a second All America City Award in 2001. So much has changed since, with many of the values that made Delray special abandoned.

Five years ago, award winning journalist James Fallows wrote a groundbreaking article in The Atlantic entitled “Eleven Signs a City Will Succeed.”
The article was a summation of James and Deb Fallows’s 54,000-mile journey around America in a single engine plane. The trip became a best-selling book “Our Towns” and a compelling series on HBO. I highly recommend both.

Considering the tumult in Delray Beach, I thought it would be interesting to revisit the article to see how many signs of success we can check off.

Sadly, even if we grade with a curve, we are not scoring too high these days. But sometimes a poor grade will force you to buck up and do better. We’re still a great town. We just have lousy politics and that can be corrected by electing better leaders. Take the test yourself and let me know what you find.

Here’s a list of Fallows’ 11 traits of successful towns:

  1. Divisive national politics seem a distant concern.

Grade: The City Commission in Delray Beach is a non-partisan body. Partisan politics has no place in city government. But the last two election cycles were highly partisan affairs, and I would argue that the results turned on party affiliation and  not on ideas about how to make Delray a better place. This is not a healthy development. For the record, my party happens to have a majority of voters in Delray, and I still don’t like partisanship on the city level or anywhere frankly. The divisiveness is endangering our Republic and it has hurt Delray too.

 

  1. You can pick out the local patriots. A standard question the Fallows would ask when they landed in a town was “Who makes this town go?” The answers varied widely. Sometimes it was a mayor or a city-council member. Sometimes it was a local business leader or influential real-estate developer. Sometimes a university president or a civic activist, an artist, a historian, or a radio personality. So, who makes our town go?

Grade: As noted in a recent blog, I would suggest that the volunteer and donor class in Delray have been told to pack their bags. Example: Old School Square eviction. When you lose the patriots, the people who roll up their sleeves and get it done, you risk shredding the civic fabric.

 

  1. “Public-private partnerships” are real.

In successful towns, people can point to something specific and say, “this is what a partnership means.”

Grade: In our town, that project was Old School Square. But after 32 years, OSS was treated as a tenant not a partner and shown the door. Other opportunities to partner are being ignored or bitterly rejected. Example: The Set Transformation Plan has languished because the city refuses to engage the residents in the northwest and southwest neighborhoods. This is in stark contrast to the Southwest Plan, which was done with city commissioners and the CRA at the table with the community.

What resulted was a citizen driven plan that the city and CRA helped to fund with millions of dollars in improvements ranging from a gateway feature and a new streetscape on Northwest/Southwest 5th Avenue to the new Catherine Strong Park and an expansion of the Village Academy.

Today, we don’t see these types of efforts. As noted earlier, the Set Transformation Plan and Congress Avenue plan sit on a shelf gathering dust despite the best efforts of citizens.

  1. People know the civic story. America has a “story,” which everyone understands even if some challenge it. A few states have their guiding stories—California is either the ever-promising or the sadly spoiled frontier, Vermont is known as its own separate Eden.

 

Successful cities have their stories too. New York is the Big Apple, always resilient and always at the center of the national conversation, Chicago is the Windy City, the capital of the Midwest and a place where bold visions come true.

Grade: Who is sharing and teaching our civic story? The local press corps has been deeply affected by changes to the industry and new methods of delivering and consuming the news and many of our past civic heroes have been sidelined by personalities who don’t want to hear from the old timers. That’s a big mistake. There’s a place for elders in every community and if they are silenced or ignored or in some cases disparaged it’s not healthy. That’s what happening in Delray.

 

  1. They have a downtown.

Grade: We have a downtown and it’s robust. However, I would argue that we need to diversify beyond food and beverage and add offices, creative spaces and other uses that will sustain us as a regional activities center. Who is having this conversation?

 

  1. They are near a research university.

Grade: Our proximity to FAU is a plus, so is our closeness to Lynn University and Palm Beach State College. But the question is are we taking advantage of that proximity and are there programs and initiatives that involve the local universities?

 

  1. They have, and care about, a community college. See above.

 

  1. They have unusual schools.

 

Grade:  Village Academy and Spady are “unusual” in that the former is a deregulated public school that has the authority to innovate, and the latter offers a Montessori program. Atlantic’s International Baccalaureate Program has always been impressive and important to Delray Beach.

 

 

  1. They make themselves open. Trying to attract and include new people.

Grade: Here’s where I see our biggest deficit. There was a time when the entirety of city government was designed around the notion of civic engagement, involvement and education. We had charrettes, visioning conferences, neighborhood dinners, town hall meetings, citizen goal setting sessions, citizen academies, police academies, a robust volunteer effort (1,200 police volunteers at the height of the program) and a Youth Council. We sent neighborhood leaders to school so they could become better leaders, we held training sessions for neighborhood associations, supported a race relations initiative and held regular mayoral roundtables. It worked. And then a lot of it, maybe even most of it, was abandoned (and well before Covid). This has been a crippling development. When your involvement is limited to social media, you don’t get good outcomes.

 

  1. They have big plans.

Grade:  I will argue that no city of any size had bigger aspirations than Delray did. We dared to dream, and we executed as well. Yes, we have a state mandated Comprehensive Plan, but I would argue that it’s not a vision and the process— which included citizens— was not citizen driven. There’s a difference. A big difference. The magic happens when the community is involved.

 

Another lesson I learned along the way is that the journey needs to be as fun or more so than achieving the destination. Today, there’s little fun and a lot of division.

 

  1. They have craft breweries

Grade: One final marker, perhaps the most reliable, according to Fallows: A city on the way back will have one or more craft breweries, and probably some small distilleries too, according to Fallows.

“A town that has craft breweries also has a certain kind of entrepreneur, and a critical mass of mainly young (except for me) customers,” Fallows wrote.  “You may think I’m joking, but just try to find an exception.”

This one I struggle with. I love craft breweries and I can see where they are important and send a message but I’m not sure they are an essential trait of a thriving city. Anyway, I love Saltwater Brewery and wish we had more.

 

Conclusion…we have some serious storm clouds to deal with.

And if you think we’re invulnerable because Atlantic Avenue is busy, well there’s no such thing.

 

 

 

Big Dreams & Big Bets

The Delray Beach Market

The Delray Beach Market is the talk of the town.

As well it should be.

At 150,000 square feet, the market is said to be the largest food hall in Florida.

It’s big, bold and brave.

It also represents a colossal investment in the future of Delray Beach so it’s audacious too. I like the audacious part. We cheer big, bold and brave bets on this blog. Small bets too. We like people who try. It’s the risk takers who leave a legacy.

Basically, the market is a food incubator enabling chef/entrepreneurs to pioneer concepts at what’s probably a reasonable cost of entry.

Downtown Delray Beach has become a foodie haven but with that success, the barrier to entry has gotten very expensive. Rents of $100 a square foot are common, build out costs can be exorbitant and competition is fierce. Atlantic Avenue has become its own ecosystem with eye popping statistics accompanying the buzz. Hand’s Stationers just sold for a whopping $1,100 a foot. That’s an astonishing number especially considering the limitations of what you can and can’t do with a building in the downtown. Let’s just say you’d have to sell an awful lot of number two pencils to make those numbers work.

Meanwhile, the new food hall allows entrepreneurs to get into business for much less than the cost of opening a full-service restaurant. It also enables them to gain exposure to the hordes of people flocking downtown these days without having to consult the Forbes Billionaires List to find investors.

I’m sure the model hopes for the vendor’s to succeed so that they can launch traditional restaurants and allow for other fresh concepts to come into the market.

We went to the grand opening party a few weeks back and couldn’t find anyone who wasn’t floored by the sheer scale of the ambition behind this project. It’s a big bet.

Subsequently, I’ve heard a range of opinions (mostly positive) but a few who are questioning how or whether this $60 million investment will work. Speculating on a business model is above my pay grade. I’ve been involved with can’t miss deals that fizzled and have also been involved with impossible dreams that turned into wild success stories including one multibillion dollar brand (Celsius) that was left for dead on several occasions and now has a market cap of $5 billion plus. Go figure.

Personally, I wouldn’t bet against Craig Menin—the developer behind the market and several other huge bets in Delray Beach including the Ray Hotel and The Linton. There’s a strategy unfolding here and it’s going to be fascinating to watch.

I’ve had the pleasure of spending a little time with Mr. Menin and he’s a fascinating man. A visionary with a lot of courage.

My advice is to never bet against the innovators. Not every bet lands you in the winner’s circle and you have to have the cash to play, but the big winners in business are those who find the courage to roll the dice and think big.

What I’m seeing is a company that believes in distinctive architecture, luxury amenities and the power of food and beverage to drive value and community.

Anyway, we sure have seen a lot in Delray over the years.

Leaving the party that Friday night, I found myself experiencing a bunch of different emotions.

I thought about how much we have changed since I came to Delray in the summer of ’87.

I thought about how when we did the Downtown Master Plan in 2001, we were dreaming big. Those dreams matched or maybe even exceeded the ambitions that were attached to Visions 2000, the landmark charrette process that led to the Decade of Excellence in the 1990s. Yes, my friends, we were swinging for the fences.

Back then, we were trying to get on the map and build something sustainable—something of value.

We can and we do argue over whether what’s happened here has been good or bad. And I can argue and empathize with both sides of the growth/change divide.

But…here’s one thing I think is immutable. Change is a constant. It’s inevitable.

We can and have sought to “shape” the growth with height limits and other tools designed to maintain our scale.

Despite the rhetoric of the last election cycle, we will never be another Fort Lauderdale. We won’t even be another Boynton Beach. Both cities —and Boca too— allow much taller buildings. We will always be a three and four story town.

But I can see why some people lament the congestion and activity and what they see as the loss of the laid back “village by the sea” aesthetic, although I would argue that you can still find quiet places to enjoy.

I can also see why others are cheering what’s happening.

They like the activity.

They appreciation the vibrancy and they benefit from the value being created.

If you own a home in east Delray, your property values—often a family’s largest asset—have appreciated substantially since the days when downtown Delray was rife with vacancies. If we lived adjacent to a dead and decaying downtown, it’s doubtful we would be seeing the real estate prices we are seeing.

I get it, it doesn’t matter unless you’re selling and it stinks if you want to buy in at this high level, but I think increasing values sure beats the alternative.

Choices.

Change.

The march of time….

Cities evolve.

We can and should do our best to shape that change—incentivize behaviors we want to see, restrict those we don’t wish to experience.

But market and societal forces are strong and it might be better to recognize that and adjust accordingly. It makes for a happier village and it also enables us to exert more control.

Change is going to happen. We are going to like some things and not like others.

You can’t shape what you don’t understand. You have a shot if you meet the world where it’s heading.