9 December, 2024 7 7 Comments

The Water Cooler Is Gone

December 9, 2024 By 7 Comments

AWOL

There’s no water cooler anymore.

Other than maybe the Super Bowl (and a couple of other sports events), there’s very little that knits us together these days.

I’m reminded of this often.

A few weeks back, we went to see The Avett Brothers at Hard Rock Live, a wonderful venue attached to a smoke-filled casino in Hollywood.

The venue looked sold out, a testament to the musical excellence of The Avett Brothers and truth be told the show was as good as any we’d ever seen. And at this point in my concert going life, we’ve seen them all. Or most of them anyway.

But when I shared my experience, I was greeted with a series of blank stares.  Very few people knew the Avetts, despite their long and critically acclaimed career, despite a canon of music as good as any you can find, and despite a show that would make any rock/country/Americana fan proud.

There’s no common jukebox anymore.

Some of you may know that I’ve been studying playwriting recently. I’ve been listening to a  podcast hosted by Lauren Gunderson. It’s been a huge help. Ms. Gunderson may be America’s most produced living playwright.

But when I mention her name, I get blank stares.

There’s no Neil Simon anymore.

When I turn on the TV, there are hundreds of stations; not the handful there were back in the 70s.

When I turn to Netflix, I’m greeted by thousands of selections. In many ways, it’s a bounty. A wonderful, diverse bounty. And yet, so much gets lost. So much goes undiscovered.

Like the documentary “Print it Black” which is the story of the local newspaper in Uvalde, Texas in the wake of the terrible 2022 shooting at Robb Elementary School.

The documentary on Hulu is astonishingly good.  But I wonder how many will see it.

If I didn’t happen to glimpse a mention of the doc in a book review, I would have missed it.

The documentary talks about “news deserts,” noting that half of the counties in our country don’t have a newspaper. There’s nobody there to chronicle graduations, Little League games, high school sports, weddings, deaths and the decisions of City Councils.

Local news is dying.

And that’s a shame because as they say in the documentary, how does a community function without somebody holding a mirror up to it? Who will write the first draft of history? Who will hold the government accountable? Who celebrates success?

There’s no water cooler anymore.

I’m an ardent Spotify listener. The streaming service is where I discover artists and podcasts. I’m a captive of the algorithm– that’s both good and bad.

Anyway, some time back, Spotify fed me an artist named Rob Jones & The Restless Dream. He’s great.

Rob was a high school English teacher in Manchester, England who felt stuck. He had a dream, an obsession really to write great songs. So, he’s going for it. He’s living his dream.

Rob is a major talent struggling to “break out.”

Because I love his music, I reached out to him, and we correspond now. Now, by all rights, Rob should be too big to go back and forth with little old me. But because we live in a noisy world where the path to success is muddled, he has time to answer my questions about his music. He’s even solicited recommendations on what he should be listening to. I recently told him about The Avett Brothers. He’s digging them.

In a just world, The Avett Brothers and Rob Jones would be known and loved by all who value well-crafted songs, Lauren Gunderson’s plays would be taught in English classes coast to coast, and every town would have a news outlet as good as the Uvalde Leader-News.

Oh my friends, the Uvalde Leader-News will break your heart.

The paper is led by a publisher who is deeply connected to his work and his community. He’s a dream boss who worries about his staff, especially a young reporter whose daughter is murdered at Robb Elementary.

In the documentary, we meet the staff of the paper. They are devoted to covering the news fairly and accurately. We watch with aching hearts as they step up during a tragic time, putting their personal feelings aside to serve a city they love. They are there to support their newsroom colleague who is devastated by the loss of her little girl. Lexi Rubio was 10 years old when she was murdered in her classroom. Think about that sentence. In what world can this be possible? And yet it happens over and over and over again.

But Uvalde has a water cooler…it’s leaking but it’s there.

Thankfully.  Because it helps. Maybe not a lot, but in ways that matter.

The documentary title, “Print it Black” refers to the black front page the paper published, a day after the shooting. It was a decision by the staff which reflected their feelings in the rawness of the moment.

When things go well, we don’t notice the things that make our communities hum.

The things that bind us.

Whether it’s an underrated band whose music touches us, an obscure but important documentary or a playwright who should be a household name, commonality matters. Familiarity binds us together. The opposite puts us into tribes.

Truth be told, Uvalde is a complicated story. The school shooting divided the community. Hard to believe but true.

And its water cooler is running dry. The Leader-News—which has been publishing since the 1870s– is on the ropes. Like most print newspapers the business model is broken. It’s now publishing only once a week.

If it dies, a lot will die with it.

Another point of connection will be lost. A lot of history won’t be written or remembered and that matters. It matters a lot.

I urge you to watch this documentary somehow, someway.

Listen to the Avett Brothers too and if you can, catch a Gunderson play. Oh, and don’t miss Rob Jones & The Restless Dream.

I’m not sure how this all ties together. But somehow it feels like it does. Somehow it feels like we need to get to know each other again. This piece is a meditation on connection – how we find it, lose it, and why it matters.

Thanks for reading.

 

2 December, 2024 11 11 Comments

25 Days of Kindness

December 2, 2024 By 11 Comments

I saw a beautiful story the other day in “Downeast” magazine that I feel compelled to tell you about.

It seems that whenever I write about kindness it resonates. I hear back from you and that’s really cool.

Truth is, if nobody read this blog I’d write it anyway. But I have to admit that when you respond it’s special.

The story I read was about a police chief in Holden, Maine. Chief Chris Greeley passed away last year at the young age of 60. But he left a legacy that will ensure he will be remembered for a long time to come.

In 2017, he launched an initiative called “25 Days of Kindness,” which asked his officers to perform simple acts of kindness for the 25 days leading up to Christmas.

It could be as simple as buying someone a cup of coffee or giving a stuffed animal to a child or something a little larger like paying someone’s heating bill, which can be costly in a place like Maine.

The 25 Days of Kindness was an instant hit and soon neighbors and businesses got in on the kindness movement donating cash, gift cards, toys, clothes and the like. It became a legacy for not only the Holden Police Department, but the Town of Holden itself. There’s now an organization called 25 Days of Kindness. Here’s a link to learn more: https://25daysofkindness.org/

Chief Greeley believed that one small gesture could change a life. He was right. To date, 25 Days of Kindness has completed 10,115 acts of kindness and now serves 25 communities.

I think kindness is contagious. As a mentor of mine used to say: “good begets good.”
Indeed.

Locally, a civic hero named Chuck Halberg models this spirit. Chuck just organized a Thanksgiving turkey drive ensuring our first responders got to enjoy a little bit of the holiday while protecting and serving us. He and others are now all about getting toys for the kids who otherwise would go without.

Every act of kindness is powerful. Every act of kindness has the potential to create a ripple effect of goodwill. That’s a sentence I borrowed from the 25 Days of Kindness website because I believe in that sentiment with every fiber of my being.

I’ve seen it happen.

I think kindness is an underrated attribute. It doesn’t cost much, but it’s worth everything.

 

25 November, 2024 14 14 Comments

The Greatest Gift

November 25, 2024 By 14 Comments

Orlando Reunion 2024.

Thanksgiving thoughts…

Aside from family, I find myself most thankful for friends.

I’m just back from Orlando where I met a half dozen friends for a reunion weekend. All but one of us turned 60 this year, the lone exception being Dave who is 59 and skipped a grade.

We don’t hold his youthful inexperience against him.

I’ve known Scott, Dewey, Ben, Howie, Joe and Dave for 50 plus years. We were boys when we met.  We’ve gone through every stage of our lives together.

It’s been 40 plus years since we last saw each other daily. We live far away from one another in places like California, Wisconsin, North Carolina, New York and the great state of New Jersey.

There have been marriages and kids, career changes, triumphs and losses. We’ve seen a lot together and apart.

When I looked around the dinner table where we gathered to share wine and stories, I thought of all the places we’ve been, all the things we’ve accomplished, who we’ve become and how we got here.

Combined we have traveled the world, been awarded patents, started, bought and sold businesses, raised kids, stared down bullies and took some crazy risks and luckily lived to share some cautionary tales. We have a great many stories…we are each other’s memories able to fill in gaps that otherwise would be lost to so many days gone by.

Favorite teachers, girlfriends who broke our hearts, dreams we chased, music we enjoyed, bars we frequented, parents and friends we’ve lost.

These days we are talking about off-ramps. When and if we can retire, how we worry about our children’s futures, how much we love them and how different they are from us at a similar age.

We’ve been getting together for these reunions for a while now. But this one felt different, more settled, more joyful and more appreciative. We know how special this is, we know how fragile too.

Most of the time our affection for each other has gone unsaid. We are guys after all. But this time we acknowledged how meaningful these friendships have been. This time we talked about how much we are thankful for this brotherhood we share. We are each other’s collective memories, we have each other’s backs, these are the men we can call in the middle of the night and know they would be on the next flight out.

Yes, these are my brothers. We will be there for each other until the end.

There’s comfort in that thought.

So much of life is impermanent. It’s a fast-paced world. It’s nice to know that at least one thing won’t change—our friendship. And when we leave this world, that won’t change either.

We managed to stay in touch through the years, but our friendship got tighter during the pandemic when Dave organized bi-weekly “Zoom happy hours” that continue today.

The early calls focused on the glory days and whatever happened to so and so, but eventually it morphed into discussions of current events, politics, sports, careers and family.

When I see these guys, I can still see the boys I met in 1970s Long Island. But I also see the men they’ve become and when I listen to them opine on the great issues of our time, I feel a sense of pride.

These are intelligent and thoughtful men. These are good people. I’m proud of them— in so many ways.

And then someone will tell a gross joke and for a moment I’m 16 again excited about my rusty old Mustang, hanging out with my buddies in Ben’s kitchen sharing New York style pizza and thinking about the next good time. The road and the possibilities seemed endless in those days.  It was all ahead of us….

I’m fortunate, I’ve made lots of friends over the years. I’m in touch with college buddies and met them for dinner a few months back on Atlantic Avenue. I kept up with a few old work colleagues and made lots of friends in and around Delray.

I love them all.

I’ve also lost a few friends over the years and drifted from others too. It happens, I suppose. But I’ve been lucky in this part of my life. I’m thankful for special people.

I know there’s a crisis of loneliness in America. The Surgeon General has labeled loneliness a public health issue.

There’s a lack of community these days. I’ve seen the change in Delray, which used to be a more social place.

But I don’t think we’re an anomaly.

These days we are lost in our phones, struggling to make ends meet, caring for our children and our parents, hustling to keep our heads above water.

It can be exhausting. But we find renewal in friendship. We are energized by the intimacy and the closeness of our best relationships.

So, I’m grateful for these moments with friends. The calls, the texts, the infrequent in-person reunions, the occasional meetups over lunch at Papas Tapas, Granger’s and Wood & Fire. This is what makes us rich.

This holiday season I hope you’ll connect with friends and family.

Maybe seek out an old buddy or two.

As I think about this last reunion, I have a few parting thoughts.

First, I cherished every moment of our time together. I felt present, not distracted.

We are getting older, we’ve had a few close calls, we’ve all lost parents, a few siblings and people we went to school with.

We are thankful for what we have. (Even the sophomoric insults have charm when you’re not sure when you will see each other next).

When we were kids, my buddy Scott and I talked endlessly about the future.

One time, or maybe more, I put on an old Simon & Garfunkel album that featured the song “Old Friends.”

The song imagines two old pals sitting on a park bench.

Old friends sitting on a park bench like bookends, their memories brushing the same years.

They note how strange it is to be 70.

I told Scott when we were teenagers that someday that would be the two of us. We would meet on that proverbial park bench and reminisce.

We are a decade away.

It’s getting closer and closer.

That notion once seemed so far away, but now it’s almost here. I can see the bench.

And I’m thankful that we may just get there—together. All of us.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

18 November, 2024 7 7 Comments

The Magic of Planting Trees

November 18, 2024 By 7 Comments

Community Greening at a recent tree giveaway.

I’ve been fascinated by Community Greening for a long time now.

I drive by one of their projects on Lake Ida Road every day. The trees they planted brighten up what was once a bleak stretch of asphalt.

Community Greening is a Delray Beach based nonprofit that has a simple but profound mission: plant trees, build community.

The organization engages and educates the community about the benefits of those trees and in some food insecure neighborhoods—and we have them— they plant fruit trees that become a source of nutrition for residents.

It’s an elegant model that serves an important need. Most cities in our area suffer from an insufficient tree canopy. The U.S. Forest Service recommends a canopy that covers 30-40 percent of the area, Palm Beach County has about a 20 percent canopy.

The lack of a robust canopy creates “heat islands” that impact the environment. In some cases, temperatures can be 10 degrees higher if the canopy is insufficient.

Enter Community Greening. In its 8-year existence, the nonprofit has planted some 18,000 trees.

But the organization is also about strengthening a community’s roots.

Community Greening is a convener.

Volunteers gather to plant the trees and that’s when the magic happens. People of all ages work together to build a healthier and more aesthetically pleasing community.

The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation is proud to partner with Community Greening. We recently granted the organization $50,000 which will be used to support Community Greening’s nursery operations and to help build a classroom at the nursery that can be used for meetings and education.

Community Greening’s mission spoke to our desire to build community.

We also like that the group collaborates with local organizations such as the EJS Project by giving young leaders an opportunity to volunteer and to learn.

Sometimes it’s these simple acts that make a profound difference.

If that sounds hokey– so be it.

We live in crazy times. We’re awash in division, we bathe in lies and I’m afraid that we’ve grown numb to it all.

In a noisy world, we long for signal. We need to seek clarity, we must create and strive to nurture beauty.

And sometimes you find that clarity in simple acts of community.

Gathering as neighbors.

Planting trees.

Educating people.

These acts speak to us.

Our communities need conveners and leaders such as Community Greening.

They believe that by engaging volunteers and like-minded community partners that they can improve our environment, create more sustainable neighborhoods and strengthen society.

That last sentence comes from their website: www.communitygreening.org.

I invite you to check it out, get involved and support these local leaders. On a personal note, I am deeply impressed by the quiet leadership of co-founder and Executive Director Mark Cassini and Community’s Greening’s Operations Director Adriene Tynes. Co-founder Emeritus Matt Shipley is a special leader as well.

We are thrilled to do our part to support this special group.

 

11 November, 2024 6 6 Comments

The Romance of Journalism

November 11, 2024 By 6 Comments

Jeff Pearlman’s podcast is a love letter to writers.

I have a famous namesake.

Jeff Pearlman spells his last name with an “a” but there have been a few times where we’ve been mistaken for each other.

Jeff and I both write. He successfully, me not so much.

The “other” Jeff is a New York Times bestselling author who has had his work made into an HBO series “Winning Time” which tells the story of the NBA’s “showtime” Lakers. Me, I’ve been on local TV, despite having a face for radio.

Jeff and I know each other. He reached out a few years back when he ran for local office in New York.

I think he wanted to know if I had any left-over campaign signs. Anyway, we struck up a friendship and Jeff interviewed me for his series called “Quaz” (don’t ask me what it means). The Quaz covers a range of people from John Oates (the quiet half of Hall & Oates) and ESPN anchor Linda Cohn (my childhood friend and big sister of a close friend) to business leaders and girlfriends of the Kevin Arnold character on the Wonder Years. Let’s just say it’s an eclectic and fun collection. I’m proud to be a part of the canon. Here’s a link: https://jeffpearlman.com/2016/03/01/jeff-perlman/

Anyway, these days Jeff is doing a lot of things from writing his next bestseller, a bio of Tupac Shakur, to building a Tik Tok following (over 200,000 followers) and hosting a beautiful podcast called “Two Writers Slinging Yang.”

Rarely can you describe a podcast as being beautiful, but “Two Writers Slinging Yang” is a warm tribute to journalism and journalists. What I love about it is that Jeff features those who toil in the trenches. We see plenty of “celebrity” journalists on cable TV and other podcasts, but Jeff shines a spotlight on the journalists who rarely get (nor seek) shout-outs.

Examples include Scott Agness, a beat writer who covers the Indiana Pacers and Indiana Fever and Sarah Leach, a crusading editor of the Holland Sentinel who was wrongly fired by the evil corporate overlords who have put a nail in the coffin of local journalism throughout our land.

Jeff describes “Two Writers” as a labor of love, a chance to celebrate writers he admires.

My favorite recent episode is an interview with a young journalist named Sam Pausman, a writer/photographer for The Wrangell (Alaska) Sentinel. Sam relocated 4,284 miles from Maine to rural Alaska to take his first journalism job for a weekly paper in a town of 2,000 people.

The podcast focuses on Sam’s efforts to connect with people he doesn’t know in a community he doesn’t know in a place far, far from home.

Sam’s an earnest young reporter, dogged and sincere in his desire to learn his beat and serve his readers.

Sam doesn’t own a car, lives over a bar/restaurant and does it all—including schlepping papers and learning to love the local cuisine.

I was swept away by his story, and I related to large parts of it. I too moved (1,321.1 miles) to take a job at a newspaper soon after college. I too worked hard to connect with people I didn’t know in a community I didn’t know.

I also schlepped papers at my first full-time newspaper job from the officers of the Valley News in Vestal N.Y. to the post office after we spent hours putting mailing labels on the front page over pizzas with my co-workers in a musty room in an old school. I never had more fun.

At the time, I felt journalism was a calling. My calling. I’ve since had a few others. But I look back at those old newspaper days with great fondness. I saw myself in Sam and thanks to Jeff Pearlman I got to meet him via Spotify.

I think about my old newspaper days often. I worked in newsrooms brimming with characters. They were smart, creative, sarcastic, funny and tough. They taught me so much.

In the newsroom of the old South Florida Newspaper Network I remember the presidential election of 1992, when Bill Clinton was elected. I worked near two old scribes—Syd Magill and Al Kaufman who had seen it all. If the young reporters said something stupid—as we were prone to do—they corrected us. Syd with a smile and a pat on the back. Al with a cutting remark. I adored them both.

For the life of me, I can’t remember what happened to Syd. I just know that he left the paper before I did. But I do remember the day that Al was laid off, by the same corporate B.S. that Jeff Pearlman often laments on his podcast.

Seeing Al pack up his desk and say goodbye to a career he loved hit all of us hard. Shortly thereafter I decided to leave of my own volition to start my own publication and become an entrepreneur. I wanted to control my own fate, even though being on your own is a lonely, hard and risky choice.

I have no regrets, but more than a few scars. I was a lucky one—it worked out for me. It didn’t for many of my old colleagues, one of whom ended up living in a car in a Boca parking lot. I met him for a cup of coffee one day, having not known about his rough road since we parted years before. He showed up with a broken arm—someone had reached into his car window and tried to rob him. He fought back and broke a bone.

“Jeff,” he said. “I can’t afford to lose what little I have. I have nothing more to lose.”

Those words stung. He offered to sell me his autographed photo of Muhammad Ali. “The Greatest” had come to Deerfield Beach back in the day and I remember when my colleague went out on that assignment. I was jealous, I wanted to meet Ali.

Of course, I didn’t want to buy his prized possession. And he turned down my offer to help. I never saw him again and I don’t know what happened to him, but I think about him—a lot.

If you’ve been in journalism in recent times, you saw the best and the worst of this important but often maligned profession.

My namesake Jeff Pearlman shares it all. He shines a spotlight on the people doing great work and the people who have been bruised by this business.

A guy like Sam Pausman, talented, sincere and courageous deserves success. I hope he finds it. We need journalists. They are not the enemy of the people; they are the shining lights of Democracy.

 

 

 

 

4 November, 2024 2 2 Comments

Decisions

November 4, 2024 By 2 Comments

There’s too much “pluribus” and not enough “unum” these days.

I heard that line listening to a podcast that featured documentarian Ken Burns last week and it left an impression.
As we head to the polls tomorrow, we do so as a divided nation. Healthy debate is just that, healthy. But what we are experiencing is division and that’s something different.
Division weakens, unity strengthens.
There are consequences to consider and I’m afraid we aren’t thinking this through.
Niall Ferguson, the provocative Scottish historian, predicts that America will lose Cold War 2.0 against China because we are divided and that the world will pine for the time when American power shaped the world.
Let’s hope that day doesn’t come.  But we are at risk. As Abe Lincoln famously said: “a house divided against itself will not stand.” So if we don’t find a way to unite or at least reconcile we risk opening the door to some really bad actors.
This strives to be a hyper local blog and a space for personal reflection, so I won’t belabor the point other than to note that “story” plays a big role in destiny.
What’s  our narrative? As a city, as a county as a state and as a nation?
It’s an important question. Good stories inspire, sad stories drag us down.
Are we the All America City? The Village by the Sea? The city that can solve any problem or the one that is mired in dysfunction?
Is Palm Beach County “Wall Street South”? Or something else.
Is Florida, paradise or Floriduh? Is America the shining city on the hill or a divided mess?
It’s our choice.
All of it.
We shape our destiny if we choose to.
Our voice is our vote.
Odds and ends
Mayo Research
The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation is supporting Alzheimer’s research at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota and Jacksonville.
Last week, we caught up with our friends at the Mayo Clinic who were in town to share some promising results including a non-invasive test for Alzheimer’s that does not require a procedure to extract fluid or a costly scan.
It was exciting to hear the news. For the first time ever, there is a drug that can be taken to alter the course of the disease. It’s not a cure, but it buys some time. The infusion actually removes amyloid plaque which causes Alzheimer’s.
The disease is a plague on families and society. Any ray of light is good news.
But I was struck by the fact that the average age in which people are diagnosed is 65. That’s young, younger than I thought.
We remain committed to doing our part as a philanthropy to help researchers cure this terrible disease. We are supporting an effort at Florida Atlantic to help families affected by Alzheimer’s and we are funding a researcher at the Max Planck Florida Research Institute who is doing remarkable work.
We are in this for the long haul but hopefully we will see progress in the short term.
A Local Treasure
On a much lighter note, I feel compelled to give a shout out to J & J Seafood, an Atlantic Avenue staple.
The food is just fantastic, the service always awesome and it’s a great place to take a friend to have a conversation. It feels like home.
It’s good to see J & J survive and thrive in a crowded, challenging and competitive landscape. J & J’s presence makes our city a warmer place.
Making a Mark
Congratulations also to the Pulte Family Foundation which is doing some great work providing housing for adults with developmental challenges.
The Boca-based foundation is doing amazing things. They’ve been extremely supportive and generous with advice as we grow our Foundation. They’ve become a role model for our work and we are deeply appreciative of their friendship.
A Good Life, A Big Loss
Finally, we mourn the loss of a beloved friend.  Richard Hasner  passed last week.
Richard and his wonderful brothers Lloyd and Jay have left their mark on Delray and beyond through decades of community involvement. Their company, Castle Florida, has been one of the most prominent general contractors in our region for more than 50 years. Their work is everywhere—residential, commercial you name it. Over five decades, Richard and his family built more than 6,000 homes, numerous office buildings, medical offices, restaurants and retail locations.
With an unparalleled work ethic, Richard went on to become an owner and President of Castle Florida.
I’ve enjoyed running into the Hasner’s at their favorite lunch spots over the years. Most recently, we’ve seen each other regularly at Granger’s.
Richard was always kind, always quick with a joke and always smiling. I will miss him very much.
He was a mensch in a world that sorely needs more people like him. May his memory be a blessing.
28 October, 2024 6 6 Comments

Conscience & Catalysts

October 28, 2024 By 6 Comments

Margaret Chase Smith and Joe McCarthy as portrayed on the Portland Stage.

I saw a play in Portland Maine recently, and I can’t stop thinking about it.

The best art is like that. It won’t leave you alone.

“Conscience” by Joe DiPietro tells the story of the battle between Maine Senator Margaret Chase Smith and the notorious Senator Joe McCarthy.

It’s a riveting history. But it’s also sadly relevant today.

“Conscience”  shows us how a brave Senator– the first woman to serve in both the House and the Senate– stood up to a demagogue who gleefully ruined lives through disinformation, lies and bullying.

Back then it was the fear of communism. Today you can take your pick of things used to whip up fear and emotion.

Predictably, politicians in the McCarthy era valued their careers over their country and the truth.  They despised McCarthy but they wouldn’t stand up to him for fear of losing their seats.

This is how real and lasting damage occurs. When we look the other way, when we wait for others to do something or when we give our assent through our silence or just as bad join in and spread more lies.

Injury occurs when we support those who exhibit abhorrent behavior.

Margaret Chase Smith did none of those things. She spoke truth to power. Her conscience wouldn’t let her be silent.

I learned a lot about our history and our present during those two hours at the Portland Stage, a gorgeous old theater with a rich history of producing landmark works.

Sitting in the dark I got swept up in the drama marveling at the performances, the story, the brilliant writing. There is nothing like live theatre.

And when the show ended, all we wanted to do was talk about what we had just seen and how it relates to the world we live in today.

It’s a dreadful time in America. It really is. So much anxiety. So much vitriol. So many lies and half-truths. So much hatred. You can feel it in the air. You can taste it and it’s bitter. We are no longer united and it feels awful.

According to a recent poll cited by the Aspen Institute, 58 percent of Americans believe our best years are behind us.

That’s a staggering and depressing statistic because America has always been focused on and excited about the future. A future we were leading with optimism.

Both parties embraced the future: “It’s morning in America.” “Hope and Change.”

Now we “lead” with words like “vermin” and “unhinged.”

We’ve lost faith in our institutions. We’ve lost faith in each other.

We lack leaders and as a result we are at risk of wrecking a remarkable country.

Both sides of the divide don’t agree on much these days, but we seem to agree that we are broken, polarized and at risk.

The author Frank Bruni calls it a crisis of confidence—a disease of pessimism in a country built on optimism. Bruni calls it a “violent rupture of our national psyche.”

Indeed.

Which is why “Conscience” the play resonates so deeply. We long to see our leaders stand for something.

Watching Margaret Chase Smith take on Joe McCarthy was gratifying.

Every bully has it coming. Every bully is driven by fear. And every bully will take your lunch money until you stand your ground and say no more.

Those that stand up to bullies pay a price. Their noses get bloodied, but their causes are noble and at the end of the day history treats them kindly. That should matter.

Nobody remembers the sycophants. Nobody.

But they remember those who stand up for what’s right.  We remember those whose conscience drives them to do the right thing. We call it character. We call it integrity. We long for these heroes. They make all the difference.

Nobody remembers the sycophants. Nobody.

We do however remember the monsters—they should serve as cautionary tales not to be repeated. And we remember the heroes and heroines—those who stand for something. Those who lead with love and courage.

Those with conscience.

Catalysts

The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation honored two community heroes last week at a luncheon at the wonderful Farmer’s Table in Boca Raton.

We officially presented the “Catalyst Award” to Ted Hoskinson of Roots and Wings and Julia Kadel of the Miracle League. The award is in honor of our late founder.

Mr. DeSantis was a catalyst. He made good things happen and he led with generosity and courage.

The award is loosely modeled on the MacArthur Foundation “genius grant.”  Like that award, you can’t apply for our prize, your work speaks for itself. Foundation staff and the board honor two people a year with a no-strings cash award and a luncheon celebrating their achievements. We also gather the two dozen organizations we are supporting to honor their work in our community.

It’s a fun and meaningful afternoon. We’ve seen our grantees walk out with new friends and collaborators and it gives us great pleasure to see these relationships form. We have a great community, and we have great people who devote their lives to helping others.

In my view, these are the real leaders in our world. Running a nonprofit is infinitely harder than running a business. I’ve been involved with both and while business is tough and complex, nonprofit work is loaded with complications and nuance. But the best nonprofits lead with love. They make miracles happen.

So, when you gather these special people together it’s magical. You can feel the power in the room, and you can’t help but be moved by the compassion they have for others.

We support organizations that are swinging for the fences.

We do this because that’s what our founder Mr. DeSantis did.

When I got involved in his world in 2008, our world was falling apart. The financial crisis was threatening to sink the economy. I had no idea that Carl would be the force he would become in my life. But when he recruited me to help with a beverage company he had discovered—a small but promising brand named Celsius—he exuded optimism about the future. He made all of us in his universe believe that we could conquer the world and slay the giants who were around every corner waiting to smack us down.

I found an email Carl sent me from back then; when I decided to listen to my heart and take a chance on this guy.

“I’m not in this for Cracker Jack prizes,” he wrote about Celsius. “This is going to be big.”

And years later—after all sorts of adversity—it was.

Carl believed. Always.

That’s what we look for in our Catalyst Award winners and our nonprofit partners.

There’s Mark Sauer—a retired executive who ran MLB and NHL teams—who “retired” to Delray Beach and decided to change the lives of impoverished children through Bound for College.

There’s Erin Hogan who runs Her Second Chance in Boca Raton, giving women in recovery the chance to learn skills and rebuild their lives.

We just welcomed Lynne Kunins and the magnificent team at FLIPANY to our Foundation family.

FLIPANY feeds thousands of nutritious meals to kids and seniors at scores of sites throughout South Florida while teaching them about health, fitness and how to cook healthy. Lynne is a social entrepreneur who overcame addiction, poverty, hunger and attempted suicide with physical fitness and nutrition. She’s an inspiration. A community builder. She’s been doing this for 20 years and she wants to take this nationwide. I have no doubt she will.

The night after our Catalyst Lunch, we went to the Kravis Center for a FLIPANY event called “Chef’s Up Front.” Talented chefs from throughout our region gathered to raise funds for FLIPANY’s many programs. It was heartening to see the love and passion in the room. Food and nutrition connect us as people.

When we visited two sites to see FLIPANY serve nutritious meals to hungry and poor children, many of them from immigrant communities, I was struck by the beauty of this simple act. There are people who villainize others and there are those who love others. Most of us walk by and pretend that we don’t see what’s right in front of our eyes–that’s a violent act too in so many ways. I know which group I want to belong to. I know which group I want to help.

Which brings me to this year’s Catalysts.

Julia Kadel and Ted Hoskinson are personal heroes of mine and many others. For 20 years Julia and her husband Jeff and their army of volunteers have built community by enabling children of all abilities to play our national pastime. My goodness, baseball is a beautiful game. They call their effort the Miracle League and indeed it is a miracle. The love they have for community is miraculous and powerful.

Ted’s Roots and Wings honors teachers and helps children become good readers. Ted and his team are changing lives. If you can’t read, you can’t succeed. Ted’s mission is to leave no child behind. It’s a beautiful way to spend a life.

I can go on. And I will because our Foundation has only just begun.

I invite you to join us. I write this hoping that you will find a way to help heal a broken world. Please transcend the ugliness of the present moment by getting involved in activities that build a better future.

Unity over division, love over hate, generosity over greed, truth over lies. Light not darkness.

Julia Kadel is a 2024 Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation Catalyst Award winner.

Ted Hoskinson 2024 Catalyst Award Winner.

 

 

 

21 October, 2024 5 5 Comments

A Sentence Can Change Your Life

October 21, 2024 By 5 Comments

Brett Favre recently revealed a Parkinson’s diagnosis during Congressional testimony.

Four words that change your life: “you have Parkinson’s Disease.” 

Football great Brett Favre heard those four words recently. In Favre’s case, he links his diagnosis to the multitude of concussions he suffered during a long and storied NFL career. There’s a price to pay for glory. A price to pay for the riches–and the hits–he received.  

A day before Favre’s disclosure during a Congressional hearing, a report was released that found that a third of former professional football players believe they have chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) , a degenerative brain disease that cannot be diagnosed in living people.  

According to CNN, findings from the Boston University CTE Center suggest that playing football might increase the risk of developing Parkinson’s disease. 

 

Using data from a large online survey sponsored by the Michael J. Fox Foundation, researchers found that participants who had a history of playing organized tackle football were 61% more likely to report a Parkinson’s disease diagnosis or “parkinsonism”, an umbrella term for symptoms like tremors and rigidity that cause movement problems, compared with those who played other organized sports. 

 

The report, published in the medical journal JAMA Network Open, also found that participants who played football at higher levels — professionally or in college — were nearly three times as likely to have Parkinson’s or parkinsonism compared with those who played at the youth or high school levels. 

But you don’t have to be a football player to get Parkinson’s. I know. Parkinson’s has touched my family and ever since we heard those four words our lives have been forever altered.  

I wake up thinking about Parkinson’s and I go to sleep thinking about Parkinson’s. 

Don’t get me wrong, my family and I are fortunate and have a wonderful life. Those four words will not get in the way of being grateful for all that we’ve been given and all that we’ve worked for. 

But those four words–and it could be a variation, ”you have breast cancer” or “you have heart disease”—change things. For me personally, “you have Covid and pneumonia” (5 words) changed my life –and nearly took my life–in 2020.  

Time becomes more precious. Doctor’s visits are no longer routine, long term plans are no longer as certain. 

Serious diagnoses have a way of focusing the mind. They reorder priorities, they cannot be ignored. 

Still, I’ve learned that mindset is important. 

There’s a quote that I think about often and want to share. I’ve found it helpful, and I hope you do too. 

“An entire sea of water can’t sink a ship unless it gets inside the ship. Similarly, the negativity of the world can’t put you down unless you allow it to get inside you”- Goi Nasu 

We try not to let the water get inside us. But sometimes the boat springs a leak. Sometimes we “go there” and that can make for some dark moments. We just can’t stay there.  

We have to cling to hope and when hope fades we always have faith.  

The Cafe On Main

My play “The Cafe on Main” was performed on stage yesterday before a sold-out house at the magnificent Delray Beach Playhouse.

Words cannot describe the feeling of sitting in an audience and watching talented actors bring your words and vision to life. Under the outstanding direction of Marianne Regan, the cast crushed it. They are so talented, so caring, and so generous. I’m at a loss to describe the feeling other than to say I’ve been bitten by the drama bug and I want to write more stories for the stage.

Writing can be a lonely exercise. You sit in front of a blank screen and struggle to make sense of the world. Then you hit send and have no idea how your words are received. I’m thankful for those of you who share your feedback about this blog with me; your insights shape me but I don’t see your faces, I can’t tell if my words are landing.

But getting that feedback in real time is a whole other experience. Watching a director and actors add to your vision and make it better than you could imagine is magical.

I’m grateful to the Delray Beach Playhouse for giving new playwrights an opportunity to learn, an opportunity to shine. They have created a safe place for creativity to blossom and I can honestly say the experience has changed my life. I’ve spoken to a few of my fellow playwrights and they share that gratitude. The Delray Beach Playhouse is a gem. The talent here is off the charts–I was just blown away by the acting, direction and staging of these new plays. So was the audience—whew!

I have a few ideas for future works cooking in my brain. It’s good to know that my local playhouse appreciates dreamers like me. My heart is full.

 

14 October, 2024 10 10 Comments

The Magic of Theater, The Magic of Trying

October 14, 2024 By 10 Comments


A few months back, I wrote about a New Play Festival sponsored by the wonderful Delray Beach Playhouse.

I’ve been a writer longer than I can remember, but I’ve never written a play. I have two screenplays sitting in a drawer, but writing for the stage is not something that I ever had the nerve to try. Until now.
 Last year,  I wrote a short play entitled “The Cafe on Main”, and answered a call for submissions for the New Play Festival. My short work was one of 10 chosen, a surprising but wonderful development that has literally changed my life.
I cannot express the joy that I feel hearing my words acted out by talented actors who breathe life into the characters and find nuances in the play that I never knew existed.
The Cafe on Main is a place where  love is given a second and sometimes third chance, says the description in the playbill.
The action takes place in an imaginary cafe in my hometown of Stony Brook, NY.
Stony Brook is kind of a magical place and growing up on the north shore of Long Island in the 70s and early 80s was an idyllic experience for me and most of my friends.
Stony Brook was a village, intimate and cozy, but close enough to New York City that we benefited from the energy and opportunities of the Big Apple.
Now 1970s NYC was a little different. There was crime and grime, graffiti and garbage. We had the Son of Sam, the Bronx was literally burning and my hero John Lennon was gunned down outside the Dakota building.
But we had Thurman Munson and Reggie Jackson, the Knicks, Rangers, Big East basketball, Tom Seaver and Joe Namath too.
It was all a short ride away on the Long Island Railroad.
But home was quiet and safe. It was pretty and suburban. But far. from boring. My hometown has a rich history going back to the Revolutionary War. Washington really did sleep here..so did his Setauket spies.
All of these images went through my mind when I sat down with an empty page and imagined a quaint, cozy Café overlooking the Village Green in picturesque Stony Brook.
Truth be told, my home for the last 37 years also was on my mind. The proprietor of my imaginary cafe was modeled—loosely—on my dear friend Fran Marincola, owner of Caffe Luna Rosa a Delray institution. If you know Fran, and most around these parts do, you understand that he’s a rich character. I had plenty of material to mine.
The New Play Festival features short plays and my original version of “Cafe” is a full blown production. To qualify, I had to cut characters and with the help of our magnificent director Marianne Regan, we pared down the back story of the proprietor.
Someday, I will tell his story in full.
We cast the five parts in July and I was floored by the talent that came to read for the 10 plays.
The directors ask the playwrights to draw up their wish list and I was thrilled when I landed my top picks for four of the five roles.
The wildcard was a young actress whom I liked but didn’t list as a top choice. Turns out she had to drop out and the role was recast with Diane Tyminski, an amazing actress of local note who happens to be from Long Island.
At rehearsals, she blew us away with her grasp of the character and the milieu.
Ahh rehearsals..this is where my life changed where I caught the theater bug and happily succumbed to the bliss of live theater.
The cast, Sergio Fuenzalida , Diane, Shelly Pittleman, Nancy Ferraro and Peter Salzer are extraordinary.
There was an immediate palpable bond among them and the chemistry was off the charts.
Watching them run the scenes and find the characters was not only fascinating it was moving.
There’s nothing like hearing your words come to life. It’s simply intoxicating.
Admittedly, I don’t have a frame of reference. It’s my first play. But I also saw the cast with tears in their eyes. They were as swept away as I was.
Honestly, I couldn’t believe it. But it was real and so I asked what they were feeling and they shared.
Going into rehearsals I was concerned that the actors wouldn’t connect with the material.
Was it good enough to engage them?
Now I was concerned that the initial emotion would be lost with more run throughs.
This is where the director comes in.
I had heard that Marianne Regan was good. Now I was seeing just how good she was. She knew what buttons to push, how to make the story move and she also knew not to over rehearse our talented cast.
And so the magic they captured was intact.
Leaving the theater after rehearsals I felt buoyant. I felt like you do when you discover a new love—excited, eager to share with my wife and friends and far less nervous for opening day.  (The Festival is October 19-20 at 2 pm, my play runs Sunday. For tickets visit delrayplayhouse.org, they are expected to sell out).
Of course, I’m still a little nervous but I sure have confidence in this cast and director. I’m in good hands.
I don’t want this feeling to end.
Writing can be a lonely endeavor.  It’s just you and the empty page sometimes joined by an inner critic, a chorus of doubt and these characters you imagine and try mightily to bring to life.
But this is the payoff. The chance to collaborate with talented people. The opportunity to share with an audience longing to be taken someplace different.
I realize how rare this is. How lucky I am. And I am grateful.
What a magnificent gift this historic old playhouse on Lake Ida gives to 10 writers a year. The actors too. There is so much talent waiting to be seen.
We are all enriched when there’s an outlet. It’s a noisy, often chaotic world. Monster hurricanes, divisive politics, so much coming at us at once and all the time.
To step into a theater and watch actors bring a story to life is a valuable gift.
I hope you will make it a point to visit and support the Delray Playhouse. It’s a charming place. A gem. And I hope you’ll try something new like I did. You never know where it might lead.
You never know if trying will better your life. It has mine.
7 October, 2024 3 3 Comments

In Praise of Delray Citizens

October 7, 2024 By 3 Comments

Sometimes you can’t feel an earthquake, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.

Recently– and quietly– a local earthquake of sorts took place when Delray Citizens for Delray Police, an amazing organization that has supported the Delray Beach Police Department skillfully for 33 years, announced a change in leadership.

Perry Don Francisco, co-founder and longtime leader of Delray Citizens, passed the torch to another civic superstar Chuck Halberg.

That’s a big deal on so many levels.

First, Perry is an amazing guy. He has done so much for the Delray Beach Police Department and Delray itself over the years that there are no words to describe the scope of his impact. He’s done great stuff quietly and without fanfare. He has touched countless lives over a long period of time.

The best description of Perry that I ever heard came from a gentleman named Joe Dragon, who used to be Delray’s Assistant Parks Director. After an awards ceremony, Mr. Dragon stood in front of the City Commission and said: “If Perry Don Francisco didn’t exist, we’d have to invent him. Because I can’t imagine this place without him.”

Indeed.  I can’t either.

And truth be told, I can’t imagine my life without his friendship. I’m sure I’m only one of dozens and dozens who feel this way.
Perry is an institution.

He was the guy who helped to put Delray on the national map as the owner of the venerable Boston’s on the Beach restaurant. I remember going to Atlanta in 2001 when Delray Beach successfully landed its second All America City Award. On a break, I took a long walk around the city wearing a Boston’s t-shirt. No fewer than four people—I kid you not—stopped me to say they’d been there. One guy said he used to work there. Boston’s in those days made an impression. The restaurant also made the news, especially when teams from Beantown made the playoffs and TV crews came to visit so they could interview fans.

I always felt that Boston’s was “Delray’s place.” I knew people who got engaged there and others who celebrated landmark birthdays at “the joint” to borrow a Perry phrase. Candidates (including yours truly) held election night parties there because we believed that the place  was magic. It was. Oh, if that building could talk it could tell stories for years.

Perry and his dedicated team created that magic. He was Delray’s host. The best ever.

He’d work all day and all night and show up the next morning for an early meeting at the Delray Chamber of Commerce, always dressed well, always fresh faced and always with keen insights and a desire to help.

Perry has been essential to this town. How blessed we’ve been to have him all these years.

As he passes the torch to Mr. Halberg, we say thanks. We know he won’t be going very far.

Aside from his service on numerous boards, his quiet generosity and ability to solve all sorts of problems, Perry helped shape Delray Citizens into a national model for what a “police support organization” should look and feel like.

He was organized, meticulous, kept amazing records and always found time to minister to the needs of officers and their families. Along the way, he made friends, put out fires, solved problems and raised a ton of money to fund items not in the city’s budget. He got the community involved as well with an annual banquet honoring officers for their service. He kept retirees engaged, involved the fire department, held an annual Labor Day Challenge that provided friendly competition on the beach with neighboring departments, sent the kids of officers to college via scholarships and helped to organize a golf event at DelAire with a bunch of amazing citizens.

When I spoke recently with Mr. Halberg, the new head of Delray Citizens, he shared how much he respected Perry’s leadership and stewardship of the organization. These are some big shoes to fill, but Chuck himself is a whirlwind of charitable deeds. The organization is in good hands, Perry would have it no other way.

So, let’s raise a glass (or whatever is nearby) and toast the best friend Delray has ever had. Perry may live next door in some city (I can’t recall the name right now) but he’s ours. Thank goodness.

 

A word on Helene

If you live in Boca-Delray chances are you know someone who lives/vacations or has ties to Western North Carolina.

There are so many bonds between South Florida and the beautiful towns in and around Asheville.

I’ve been reading heartbreaking tales from friends who got hit by Hurricane Helene. They find their lives, towns, businesses and world turned upside down. It’s crushing.

As one friend put it, we humans think we can tame the Earth, but we can’t. The same place that we love can take us away in a torrent of wind and rain.

The number that stood out to me is the report that the storm dumped 40 trillion gallons of water. That’s how much rain fell on the southeast during that terrible storm and another that preceded it.

Enough to fill the Dallas Cowboys stadium 51 times. Enough to fill more than 60 million Olympic size pools. Some scientists say the 40 trillion-gallon figure may be an understatement.

While the stats are stunning, the human toll is staggering.

I saw this on a real estate blog I enjoy. I don’t mean to scare you, but this could be us someday.

“A week ago, Asheville seemed to have it all.

It was one of the fastest-growing cities in the country with a vibrant arts scene and booming tourism industry. It drew retirees and remote workers who wanted to escape to the mountains, and it was seen as one of the best places to go to avoid the perils of climate change.

In less than 24 hours, all of that was shattered.

The scale of the devastation is unimaginable. Whole towns have been essentially erased from the map. Properties were swept up in the floodwaters and carried downstream.

The total economic loss and damage from Helene’s path could be up to $160B, according to an estimate from AccuWeather, approaching the $200B impact Hurricane Katrina wrought on New Orleans — one of the costliest natural disasters in U.S. history.”

Sobering to say the least. As Hurricane Milton approaches the Florida coast please be vigilant and have a plan.

Here’s a link on ways to donate to help those impacted by Helene.

https://www.vpm.org/news/2024-10-01/hurricane-helene-donations-relief-western-north-carolina-blue-ridge-public-radio

Losses

This week we mourn the loss of two great contributors.

Land use attorney and civic volunteer Marty Perry has passed. Mr. Perry was an institution in Palm Beach County serving on a slew of boards that helped to shape our community. He will be missed.

Rev. Nancy Norman, who served as senior minister at Unity of Delray, passed unexpectedly Oct. 4. She was an amazing minister and lovely person who touched so many lives with her kindness.

We send our condolences to the Perry and Norman families.

 

 

 

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