Finding That Special Spot

A “sit spot” is a place for contemplation.

I follow a guy on Facebook whose posts almost always make me think.

In the often-mindless sea of drivel on social media, this guy’s posts stand out.

They are poetic, soulful and intelligent.

Truly good stuff—material that makes you stop what you’re doing so you can ponder.

It feels good to ponder.

I went to high school with this guy 40 plus years ago on Long Island.

We were friends, not especially close; but I always thought he was a cool guy. He played guitar and always seemed self-assured—not an easy feat when you’re 17 and trying to find your way.

This guy, somehow he seemed older. More sophisticated than me and my gang. He most likely was more cultured–after all, our idea of intellect was glancing at Cliff’s Notes and pretending we read the often boring books we were assigned in English class. We preferred Sports Illustrated over Chekhov.

And Kafka…he didn’t appeal to our pedestrian tastes either. I think we read The Trial. I know we read Animal Farm. But to be honest, we were more interested in seeing if we could steal glances at our dad’s discarded Playboy magazines—tame stuff by today’s standards. And no, we did not read the articles.

But I digress.

My friends and I took a class called “Inference and Argument” and we did exactly the minimum to get by, not an ounce more.

It’s something I’m ashamed of now –skating by in school– not paying attention to what was important. I guess that’s part of being a kid. But it’s no excuse and I wish I had taken my formal education seriously.

But my friend —the guitar playing intellect —-well, he seemed different. At least I recognized that.

When you’re a kid you spend your days searching for yourself; trying on new identities to see what might fit.

As a result, when you stumble across someone who seems to know who they are it stops you cold. For all I know, my old friend was lost too.  But he seemed self-assured and that’s what I noticed.

Anyway, decades fly by, and you lose touch with all but your core friends. That’s the natural rhythm of life. We make room for others. We evolve- if we’re lucky.

Then Facebook comes along and suddenly you ‘re-up’ with people you haven’t seen since the day you flipped your tassel and threw your mortar board into the air.

I reconnected with the guitar playing intellect and slowly got hooked on his poetic posts.

He still plays guitar , got remarried to someone he loves deeply and had a baby with her just a few years ago.  At our age, that’s optimism.

All of it is fascinating—poetic posts, music, babies, a passionate new love. This 60 something is inspiring!

I’m glad he didn’t peak in 1982; I know a few folks who did.

He did not stay rooted in the glory days of racing cars down Nicolls Road, eating pizza at Mario’s and drinking on a fake ID in Port Jeff.

Those were good days, but the rest were even better if you’re lucky. I count myself to be one of the fortunate ones.

But I digress again.

Which finally brings me to the point of this rambling essay.

My guitar player friend recently posted about something called a “sit spot”. I had never heard the term.  So I looked it up and it refers to a special place where you can go and gather your thoughts.

I like that concept, and I have a sit spot sort of. It’s in Lake Ida Park. I say sort of cause it’s not just one spot, it’s more an area within the park that I can go and collect my thoughts.

I went there after I learned my mother was sick and again after she passed. I went after my divorce and again when we had a fatal shooting when I was mayor.

I went after 9/11 and on Oct. 7 after learning what had happened in Israel.

I’ve been there a lot this year because I’ve lost several friends—a few before their time. And truth be told, there’s never enough time.

After reading the ‘sit spot’ post I had a dream about a place in the woods in what might have been Maine, which has become my happy place. A place I breathe better and feel most relaxed. I’m writing this while sitting in my kitchen in Portland, windows open, (fresh air is better than air conditioning), the birds are singing and its green—everywhere.

Anyway, I woke from this dream content. I wrote down these words to capture that feeling. That fleeting peaceful, easy feeling.

Here it is…thanks my guitar playing intellect friend. You continue to inspire this now aging man who remains a fan. P.S. what I hope you are about to read was just selected to be included in an anthology of poems being published by a group called Fresh Words. My first published poem.

You wouldn’t even notice it, not if you weren’t looking.

A little clearing, barely marked — just a dip in the trail where the moss thickens and the trees lean in like they’re sharing secrets.

There’s a ledge there, cool and smooth, carved by time and rain. My sit spot.

I don’t go there with an agenda. Not anymore.

At first, I thought I was supposed to do something — solve a problem, find clarity, reach peace.

But this place doesn’t ask that of me. It just asks me to stop.

To be.

Some days I sit, still as stone, and watch the wind make ripples in the canopy above.

Other times, I lie back on that ledge, stretch my arms out wide, and let the sky press down gently on my chest —

like it’s reminding me I’m small, but not alone.

The birds come and go, flickers of motion and music.

A squirrel chatters like I’ve interrupted his sermon.

Even the ants do their work with purpose, like they know something I don’t.

There’s a rhythm to the forest — not rushed, not lazy. Just… true.

When I’m here, I remember what it feels like to be a part of that rhythm.

To breathe like the trees breathe.

To think less and feel more.

I’ve cried here, laughed here, done nothing here.

It’s held all of it. No judgment.

Just silence, and green, and sky.

This is my sit spot.

Not mine like I own it — no, more like… I belong to it.

And when the world gets too loud, too fast, too sharp,

I come back.

And it remembers me.

What’s Possible

Inside The Edythe

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I had a remarkable experience a few months back that I wanted to share with you.

My teammates and I at the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation went on a “What’s Possible Tour” courtesy of the Philanthropic Services Team at Bank of America. We work closely with the team on all issues relating to philanthropy. They consult on governance, technology, best practices and any questions we might have about how to be good philanthropists. They are invaluable and we treasure their expertise and kindness.

They bring a national perspective to our “place-based” local philanthropy.

So, in the spirit of finding out ‘what’s possible’, we ventured to Central Florida to check in with the Dr. Phillips Foundation, the Edythe Bush Foundation, the Winter Park Health Foundation, Lift Orlando and the Central Florida Foundation. We also had an opportunity to visit the sensational Morse Museum on Park Avenue in Winter Park for a behind the scenes tour that served as a lesson in what culture can do for a community. The Morse is a local and national treasure.  With our local arts scene threatened by funding cuts, we need to be vigilant and make sure we don’t lose what makes us special.

We came back from Central Florida brimming with ideas and filled with inspiration, excitement and motivation. We saw ‘what’s possible’ and we are determined to pursue transformation.

It’s a good lesson for all of us. Regardless of what you do for a living, it’s important to step back and explore what’s possible. For a small investment of time, we had an opportunity to refresh, recharge and change our thinking.

I think people crave inspiration. We want to be moved by a mission, we need to know our “why” and we long to find opportunities to pursue big ideas, ideas that will outlive us.

The best philanthropists, the leaders who matter, the entrepreneurs who make a dent in our world do so with posterity in mind. They understand that their highest calling is to plant seeds that others will benefit from. They plant trees knowing that others will enjoy the shade. In that spirit, here’s what we saw. I encourage you to design your own “What’s Possible Tour.”

Dr. Phillips Charities

We were blown away by the Dr. Phillips headquarters. Words cannot do justice to the building and the grounds…just a remarkable space and a statement that Dr. Phillips is here for the long haul.

It’s hard to overstate the influence Dr. Phillips and his family foundation have had on Orange and Osceola Counties. Phillips made his fortune in the citrus industry which shaped The Sunshine State. That fortune is now being used to enhance health, culture, education and the economic and social well-being of the region.

We turned to the leadership of the Dr. Phillips team  when we were tasked with forming the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation and their guidance was invaluable in our start-up days.

To experience their work up close was breathtaking.

Dr. Phillips has significant real estate holdings, and they are busy turning those assets into places that will benefit the greater Orlando area.

Perhaps the most exciting project they have is the 202-acre “Packing District” which is being transformed into a vibrant mixed-use project.

One of the original citrus producers in the region, Dr. Phillips used the land that stretches along Orange Blossom Trail near College Park as the site of one of his multiple packing houses, creating a key place in the early economic ecosystem of Orlando. The site was the first industrial property in Central Florida and the crown jewel in Dr. Phillips’ real estate holdings. The plan includes 97 acres of mixed-use and residential development (1 million square feet or retail/office and 3,500 units) and a 105-acre regional park which will include a 40-acre urban farm which will focus on fixing a broken food system offering learning experiences and using sustainable practices from around the world to grow healthy food.

Our team was struck by Dr. Phillips long-term vision and the importance they place on being good stewards, which was a key principle of their founder.

Edythe Bush Foundation

Stewardship and legacy are the guiding values of the Edythe Bush Foundation, which also assisted us with key advice in our early days. The Edythe Bush Foundation’s visionary leader David Odahowski has been called the “dean of Florida philanthropy.”  We wanted to borrow David’s brain and absorb his decades of wisdom. He was kind enough to cooperate.

The Edythe Bush Foundation has had a huge impact in Winter Park, which is somewhat reminiscent of Delray Beach in terms of scale and charm.

Mr. Odahowski reminded us that we probably won’t solve the many issues facing society, but we can move the needle and make a difference.

That’s good news for nonprofits, those of us who give to charity and those of us who aspire to move the needle in the right direction. Edythe Bush’s tagline is “providing a legacy of leadership” and they have done just that with a variety of investments that have helped make Winter Park, a jewel of a city. One of those newer investments is the foundation’s gleaming headquarters located downtown strategically near Rollins College.

We met inside their new building which is called “The Edythe.” It’s stunning. The Edythe welcomes the community with a variety of activities and offers meeting space to community groups. It’s designed like a theatre, which honors Mrs. Bush who was an actress and dancer. The family’s philanthropy was derived from the success of 3M, a Minnesota based conglomerate.

The foundation is unique because it has a local focus and serves as a convener. Over the past 50 years, Edythe Bush has served close to 900 nonprofit organizations and given over $114 million in grants to alleviate human suffering and help people help themselves, that is a concept that drove our founder, Carl DeSantis.

But what’s also interesting is that the foundation and its leader have served as beacons for the state of Florida. They were instrumental in founding the Florida Philanthropic Network, an organization that enables foundations to learn from each other and leverage their collective knowledge of challenges and opportunities facing Florida. The foundation also works closely with the Florida Chamber Foundation on future goals for the state. We have learned a lot from Edythe Bush and their talented staff.

 

Winter Park Health Foundation

Nearby is the headquarters of the Winter Park Health Foundation, which uses the proceeds from the sale of a hospital to offer programs that promote community health. The Winter Park Health Foundation has created a special space in a park-like setting where people of all ages come for classes, exercise, healthy food and solace from a busy world. I was especially taken by their “Nutrition Theatre” which serves as a learning kitchen where people can come to take classes. It reminded me of the work that Ali Kaufman is doing at the Community Classroom Kitchen in Delray Beach, which we are proud to support.

The Winter Park Health Foundation model is a little different from many other foundations in that they operate their own program. We saw the complexities of this model, but also its potential.

Central Florida Foundation

For 30 years, the Central Florida Foundation has been serving as the “community foundation” for their large and diverse region.

From these experts, we learned the importance of data analysis and the need to look at root causes of community challenges to ensure that philanthropic dollars are spent wisely.

The Foundation also serves as a convener and has found innovative ways to bring the community together around issues and opportunities. Currently, I’m bingeing their podcast “First You Talk” which covers issues including homelessness, housing and health.

What struck us the most was their “Thrive Central Florida” initiative which brings together the collective brainpower, funding and skills needed to address the most pressing challenges facing a region which is growing rapidly. The premise is simple: Central Florida leaders are smarter and more impactful when key players work together.  A good lesson for other regions to emulate.

Armed with this information and passion for our mission, we are so excited about “What’s Possible.” I encourage you to ask and answer that simple, but profound question.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Essential Service…The Essential Relationship

The Delray Beach Police Department has a proud history and has played an enormous role in the city’s success.

I don’t know the nitty gritty details of the contract dispute between the Delray Beach police union and the City of Delray Beach.

I know the basic parameters, but I can’t argue the merits of either side.

But speaking as a longtime resident, I’m rooting for this standoff to end—fairly. For all parties.

The issue must be resolved. Hopefully, soon because real and lasting damage is occurring.

What I am most fearful of is that the fracture goes beyond a contract dispute, as serious and complicated as that may be. What’s at stake is an essential connection. It’s important that a city and its police officers and firefighters have a strong relationship. Ideally that relationship should be built on trust and mutual respect.

Public safety is an essential service.  As such, we need to provide our taxpayers and visitors with top notch police and fire services. Our personal safety and the security of our homes and businesses depend on it. In many ways our economic future depends on public safety as well.

So, this labor issue needs to be resolved. It was comforting to see the fire department’s staffing issues settled, although it came at considerable cost and I am not talking about money.  Allow me to explain.

Every endeavor, at its core, is a human one.

We are emotional beings, and it matters how we speak to each other and about each other.

We want to be seen and we want to be heard. We want to be respected and considered—always.

If disputes linger and get nasty it is hard to put the toothpaste back in the tube. Words and gestures leave a mark. Those words can either build a relationship or cleave it apart.

I’m seeing some real damage being done with statements that won’t be soon forgotten even when a contract is signed.

And the longer this goes on the more we will chip away at departments that we not only count on but can thank for the quality of our community.

I’ve said on many occasions that the men and women who have served and are serving in the Delray Beach Police Department are the unsung heroes of Delray’s renaissance.

The Fire Rescue Department has been invaluable as well.

The quality of these departments, their effectiveness and their professionalism should be a source of civic pride. We have outstanding police and fire services.

Achieving and maintaining that excellence has been a joint effort between those who serve at great risk and the taxpayers who have invested in these departments.  City leadership also plays an essential role.

Supporting our public safety departments is table stakes for a quality community. The men and women who serve depend on mayors, commissioners and city managers to stand by them. They must know that if the going gets rough—and it always does—that leaders have their backs. That doesn’t mean there’s no accountability; it just means that support trumps political expediency. Good leaders take bullets for their people. They stand by them. In good times and in not so good times.

And that means that when things get hot, cooler heads need to prevail. There’s simply too much at stake.

It’s not just about money and benefits although it’s essential to be competitive. It’s also about support and respect.

Those intangible but invaluable assets need to flow both ways. It once did.

It’s going to require a lot to get back to that place. Respect is earned. So is trust. But it’s worth the effort. Failure is not an option here.

I care about the Delray Beach Police Department and Delray Beach Fire Rescue. Over my nearly 40 years here I’ve gotten to know and befriend many officers and firefighters. I admire their dedication, and I respect their commitment to the job and to us as citizens.

Earlier this year, my heart was broken when we lost legendary Officer (and former union President) Vinny Mintus followed by the loss of Fire Chief Kerry Koen, the brilliant architect of modern-day Delray Fire Rescue.

These dedicated and talented public servants loved their city. Hundreds of others past and present have devoted their lives to protecting and serving us. We have been blessed with so many special and talented officers and firefighters and they have made an immense and lasting difference.

So, there is a lot at stake in this dispute. Relationships matter.

Personally, I don’t know what it’s like to go to work in the morning, not knowing what dangers I’ll face or what horrors I might see during the day or night. But I have spent many hours “riding along” with both police and firefighters. I’ve had a glimpse into that world. Enough to be aware and grateful for people willing to do this work for a living.

They do not get rich doing this job. But officers and firefighters deserve lives and retirements that provide dignity and security.

The men and women who work in law enforcement are wired to serve. Firefighters are as well.

They enjoy the camaraderie of working with others who share the mission, and they take pride in running into buildings that others are running out of.

I’ve also been in the shoes of elected officials who have a duty to protect all stakeholders.

We faced an attrition and recruitment issue before in the early 2000s. At that time, we were told by our chiefs— both police and fire —that we were bleeding personnel and that we needed to step up and figure out a solution to stop the attrition and become competitive again.

We did.

It wasn’t cheap and it wasn’t easy. We also suffered the slings and arrows from the armchair experts who thought we were selling out to the unions.

We weren’t.

It wasn’t about generosity; it was about being competitive with our neighboring departments so that we could continue to provide an essential service.

Without public safety, you can’t have a viable city. To provide quality public safety costs money. Lots of money.

To not offer quality public safety costs even more. Businesses leave. Property values plunge, visitors and patrons who support your economy go where they feel safe.

There’s a lot at stake here.

This is where we depend on leaders to find a way forward—together.

The time has come to stop the bleeding and repair this essential relationship. I have faith that will happen because it must.

 

Keep The Cannons Thundering (a nod to Jimmy Buffett)

The historic (and very beautiful) Delray Beach Playhouse has been giving a voice to local playwrights since 2019.

The hardest thing about writing, for me, is facing the blank page- Octavia Spencer. 

I’ve heard various descriptions of the daunting blank page  for as long as I can remember.
But I have a confession to make: I love the blank page. 
I absolutely, positively crave the blank page.
In fact, nothing gives me more satisfaction than staring down that blank page and filling it with words and thoughts. 
Now those thoughts may be well received or they may be despised; it doesn’t matter. The words may land or miss the mark. It doesn’t matter.  Writing gives me joy. 
I’ve written journalism, bad poetry, books, essays, blogs and plays. I’ve written editorials, columns, screenplays and love letters. I’ve enjoyed it all. 
I love the challenge of the blank page. And I think as we get older, we need to find our own “blank page” in life and fill the space with gusto. 
On my way to work this morning, I heard one of my favorite songs– “A Pirate Looks at 40” by Jimmy Buffett.
“The cannons don’t thunder,” he sings. “There’s nothin’ to plunder, I’m an over 40 victim of fate.”
It’s a poignant song, tempered by the knowledge that Jimmy Buffett was not that guy…he kept the cannons thundering until the end. My goodness, how I miss his presence on this Earth.
All of this is to say a heartfelt thanks to the good folks at the Delray Beach Playhouse for giving local playwrights a chance to fill their magnificent stage with our words. 
This past weekend, 12 playwrights and a few dozen local actors and actresses brought 12 short plays to life at the annual Playwrights Festival. It was wonderful. 
Two sell-out houses came to cheer our work. And I have to say there is no better feeling than to hear gifted actors speaking your words while you sit with an audience that is reacting to your work in real time. Talk about adrenaline!
My play was called “Love After Love.”  It’s a love story that takes place just outside the playhouse on a bench overlooking picturesque Lake Ida. 
Diane and I were there one day with our dogs Gracie and Emmitt, when I saw a lonely looking man staring straight ahead. Something about the scene struck me; maybe it was the way he braced himself against the wind, maybe it was the “thousand yard” stare he had as he looked at the water. 
I built a story around that indelible image. 
That’s the magic of theater, you can try to build a world around a simple image. I’m not sure I pulled it off, I’m still learning, but I sure am having fun. 
This is the second year my work was in the festival. Last year, my play “The Cafe on Main” made its debut. It was the first play I wrote and it took all I had to hit send and give it a shot when I saw the call for entries. I encourage all of you to “hit send” and take a shot yourself whether it’s playwriting, poetry, painting or playing in a pickleball tournament. 
I learned a lot from my director last year Marianne Regan and learned some more this year from “Love After Love’s” director Brenda Aulbach. The cast and tech crew taught me as well. 
After last year’s amazing experience, I spent the next several months working on craft, taking a 10-minute play course by Delray’s own Arianna Rose, going to see plays at Theater Lab, reading plays, books about playwriting and listening to podcasts. I also started working with NY playwright Jack Canfora, a wonderful writer/teacher who has a way of making me see things I miss in my own writing and ideas. 
It has been a magnificent journey.
I’m writing at night and early in the morning. In July, my short play “Press Conference” will be performed by a Massachusetts based company on Zoom and in August the same play will be performed on a stage outside Columbus, Ohio as part of a “Brave Voices” festival. 
Inspired by my experience last year, I expanded “The Cafe on Main” into a full length play that will be performed at The Arts Garage, a venue and organization I adore. I’m also working on two additional full length plays that I’m excited about. 
I don’t have any expectations or dreams of glory or riches (there’s not a lot of money in local and regional theater) but I’m having fun. Lots of fun. I picked up this hobby at age 60–so it’s never too late to try new things. My fellow playwrights this year include an actor/filmmaker, a mother of five who somehow finds the time to write and two writers who write laugh out loud comedy–that’s no an easy feat. 
The blank page doesn’t scare me, or them I suppose. But the blank page does represent possibility and promise. We can create new worlds if we try and if we dare to “hit send.”
I began to realize how important it was to be an enthusiast in life. If you are interested in something, no matter what it is, go at it full speed. Embrace it with both arms, hug it, love it and above all become passionate about it. Lukewarm is no good.” – Roald Dahl

 

Good Vibrations

Brian Wilson’s musical vision inspired generations of people who believed in an Endless Summer and the California Dream.

Brian Wilson was a once in a lifetime talent.
The Beach Boys founder and principal songwriter died June 11. He was 82.
My friends and I saw The Beach Boys in March 1982 at the Westbury Music Fair. (Thanks for the date verification Scott, our group historian).
Brian Wilson was there, a rarity for a musician who was loathe to travel and perform at least at that time. Mr. Wilson wanted to his spend his time in the studio creating songs that have stood the test of time.
When I learned of Brian Wilson’s passing, I fired up Spotify in my Delray office and spent the afternoon typing away as hit after hit played. The music swept me away, conjuring images of beaches, sand, surfing and the promise of an endless summer. It was magical.

My musical bliss was interrupted by  a Zoom call with a CEO in the drug discovery business. He was around my age, and we didn’t know each other prior to the call.  But we connected over our mutual love for The Beach Boys.  That’s the power of rock ‘n’ roll.  Good rock n roll anyway.

We didn’t have to say anything. He saw me, I saw him, we realized we were within a few years of each other’s age and we instantly started talking about Brian Wilson’s beautiful music. Good Vibrations indeed.

God Only Knows if we’ll see another songwriter like Brian Wilson. Our generation was blessed with scores of great songwriters, but Brian was at or near the top. Good enough that Paul McCartney felt compelled to answer Pet Sounds with his own masterpiece Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. “We nicked a few ideas” Sir Paul said.

Every generation thinks their era has the best music. But in our case, it was true. The Beatles, The  Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Springsteen, Dylan, Neil Young, U2, Seger, Petty, CCR, Paul Simon, the Byrds, Eagles, Joni, Jackson, Bowie, Elton….the list goes on and on.

Of course, there’s some great new music being released but we experienced a gusher of greatness.
Wouldn’t it Be Nice if we could catch a wave and experience some more Good Vibrations.
Thank you Brian Wilson. Turns out our summers aren’t endless, but they sure are unforgettable and the music lives on.

Here’s what Beach Boys lead singer Mike Love had to say about his cousin and band mate.
“ Today, the world lost a genius, and I lost a cousin by blood and my partner in music.

Brian Wilson wasn’t just the heart of The Beach Boys—he was the soul of our sound. From the first time we sang together as kids in my living room, I knew there was something otherworldly in him. His musical gifts were unmatched. The melodies he dreamed up, the emotions he poured into every note—Brian changed the course of music forever.

Our journey together was filled with moments of brilliance, heartbreak, laughter, complexity and most of all, LOVE . Like all families, we had our ups and downs. But through it all, we never stopped loving each other, and I never stopped being in awe of what he could do when he sat at a piano or his spontaneity in the studio.

Brian’s unique artistry and our collaboration gave the world the American dream of optimism, joy, and a sense of freedom—music that made people feel good, made them believe in an endless summer and endless possibilities. It was one of the greatest blessings of my life to experience that creative space with him.

It was our privilege to make the world believe in sunshine, surfing, and teenage dreams. My life was forever changed by Pet Sounds, God Only Knows, In My Room, Good Vibrations, The Warmth of the Sun and a hundred other pieces of his soul wrapped in music. He allowed us to show the world what vulnerability and brilliance sound like in harmony. He was fragile, he was intense, he was funny—and he was one of a kind.

My wife, Jacquelyne, and I are heartbroken. She stood beside me through so many chapters of this story, and we both send our love and prayers to Brian’s family, his children, and all who were touched by his life and gifts.

Brian, you once asked, “Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older?” Now you are timeless. May you rest in the peace you so deeply deserve, surrounded by the heavenly music you helped create. May your spirit soar as high as your falsetto, may your wings spread in effortless flight.

Thank you for the harmonies, the memories, and the love.  Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, Love leaves a memory no one can steal.

I’ll miss you forever, my beloved cousin.
– Mike

Remembering Sonny

Delray Beach lost another contributor June 5 with the passing of Harold “Sonny” Van Arnem.

Mr. Van Arnem was 84.

I’ve known Sonny since the early 90s, and we recently met for lunch a few times to catch up. Sonny was a fascinating guy with a fascinating history in tech, real estate and hospitality. He was always thinking about the future and always looking for innovative ways to make a difference.

Locally, he was active in educational causes and served on the Downtown Development Authority and Chamber Board.  He was very proud of the new Hampton Inn he opened on U.S. 1 which was named for his son Adam.

He was a unique man. I will miss seeing him around town. May he rest in peace.

A Fitting Honor

It was wonderful see a post office in Delray Beach renamed to honor Benjamin Ferencz, a Nuremberg war crimes prosecutor, human rights champion and long-time resident of Kings Point in west Delray.

The post office at 14280 S Military Trail was renamed this month. Mr. Ferencz passed away two years ago at age 103. He was a truly remarkable man.

As a war crimes investigator and a Nuremberg prosecutor, Ferencz witnessed the horrifying effects of Nazi crimes. He became convinced that the world can prevent such atrocities only by outlawing and systematically punishing aggressive war and acts of genocide, crimes against humanity, and war crimes. He devoted his career to creating an international system of justice that protects everyone’s right to live in peace with dignity.

Mr. Ferencz became a celebrated figure around the world. 60 Minutes featured his work in a memorable segment and he was awarded a Congressional Gold Medal.

On October 30, 2023, U.S. Representative Lois Frankel introduced H.R. 6116, a bill to designate the facility of the U.S. Postal Service located at 14280 South Military Trail in Delray Beach, Florida, as the “Benjamin Berell Ferencz Post Office Building.” The bill was signed by President Biden on January 2, 2025.

 

On Being A Steward

“Leaders need to be stewards of the things that work and innovators on new initiatives

and the things that are broken. Fix gently with humility.”

I saw this quote recently and I immediately wrote it down.

I can’t find who said it, but I wish I knew because I believe every single word. Especially the gentle part. Especially the humility piece. We are short of both these days.

I think we’ve lost our sense of stewardship and that should alarm all of us.

Being a steward asks us to be responsible with the gifts we’ve been given. Stewardship demands that we take care of the assets we’re tasked to protect.

In business it means we should never endanger the enterprise. In life it means we need to tend to those we cherish and in leadership it means don’t destroy, enhance if you can, but don’t break things that cannot be replaced.

Sadly, I believe we’ve lost the essence of leadership which is service. Too often, “leaders” position themselves as people to be served when their job is to serve others.

The best leaders make us feel safe when they are on the job, not fearful of retribution.

If you think I’m talking about the national situation– I am. But I’ve seen this dynamic play out on the local level too.

It’s a ruinous model.

It chases away the very people you need to build value, it screams stay away when we need to be inviting talent to the cause.

A corollary of this style of “serve me” leadership is the emergence of sycophants.

These are people who overlook every misdeed. They accept every lie, excuse every boneheaded decision and look the other way when lines are crossed. These types only hold the “other side” accountable.

That’s also ruinous.

I’ve seen this dynamic play out locally and nationally as well.

We are in a moment when everything we’ve previously cherished seems to be at risk.

Every ideal, every fact, every value, every bedrock of society seems to be under assault. All at once.

As a result, many of us don’t feel safe. There’s an aching sense that the once firm ground beneath our feet is shifting as if we live in quicksand. We reach for the life raft and a wave carries it away.

I’m reminded of a consultant that Boca and Delray used to use for City Commission goal setting.

Lyle Sumek was a former city administrator turned municipal sage. He travelled the country consulting with large and small cities. He saw what worked and what didn’t. I worked with him for 7 years. I thought his counsel was invaluable.

Lyle taught us the concept of ‘municipal math’ which I also believe applies to states and nations.

Basically, municipal math posits that it can take 20,30, 40 or more years to build something but only a few months to destroy what’s been built. It can take 10-20 years to restore what’s been lost–with no guarantee you’ll be able to do so.

Municipal math is cruel and unfair. It’s also a rock-solid truism. See Square, Old School for a local example.

Hence the need for stewards.

We’ve seen the guys with chain saws and the elected officials who tune out common sense and destroy beloved and valued institutions but the stewards…well they are a rare breed. They may have gone the way of the dodo bird. And that’s a shame. A costly damn shame.

Odd & Ends

Interesting stat:

A recent National Association of Realtors report confirms what many are seeing: the median age of homebuyers continues to rise, with the median buyer now age 56  which qualifies them for AARP benefits. The average repeat buyer rose from 45 in 2004 to over 60 in 2024, so the same generation is still buying the homes 20 years later.

Perhaps most troubling, however, is the rapid increase in age of first-time homebuyers over the past 10 years, which now sits at 38 years old—up from 30 in 2010.

Something has to give folks, an entire generation can’t get started.

Congratulations to former Delray Assistant City Manager Bob Barcinski who received his 40 years of service pin recently from an association of City Managers.

Mr. B. —as he is affectionately known—was a remarkable public servant, a quiet hero behind the scenes of so much progress in Delray Beach. He’s retired now and last I saw him (a week or so ago) he looked relaxed and happy. Well done, my friend.

 

More congratulations to everyone’s friend Captain Gary Ferreri of the Delray PD.

Capt. Ferreri was named “Supervisor of the Year” at the recent Delray Citizens for Delray Police Gala at the Opal Resort.

Over the past year, Captain Ferreri supervised multiple specialty units—including Vice, Narcotics, Criminal Intelligence, and our Problem Oriented Policing Teams—while also leading the successful rollout of Delray’s new downtown camera system. From securing funding and selecting equipment to managing installation, his work has helped strengthen public safety and modernize our policing infrastructure.

He’s also a great guy so this is extra special to see him being recognized.

I also want to take this opportunity to thank Police Chief Russ Mager for his 29 years of service to Delray.

Russ resigned last week and will be replaced at least on an interim basis by Darrell Hunter, a fine man and officer.

I watched Chief Mager climb the ranks and always respected his dedication to the job and the community. He will be missed and remembered.

There’s a whole lot of “stuff” playing out in both our police and fire departments right now. I’m rooting for cooler heads to prevail. I will say this based on 38 years of closely witnessing the impact the police and fire departments have had on our town. There is no better investment than public safety. None. These are expensive services–I get it—but they are essential services. Whatever you like or enjoy or value about Delray Beach was made possible because people felt safe to invest here. We can lose it, if we are not careful. And remember municipal math is cruel.

Finally, congratulations to Delray’s own Coco Gauff, French Open champion!

 

 

The Other Washington

I just took a business trip to Washington D.C.

I came back inspired.

Now Washington and inspiration are rarely used in the same sentence these days but I came back full of patriotic fervor—albeit with a dash of melancholy.

First, Washington is a beautiful city.

The office buildings and museums are stunning, the monuments magnificent and the flowers provide an invigorating splash of color this time of year.

It’s fun to walk around and marvel at the sites and to soak up the energy of an important and substantial city.

We took a day trip to Baltimore for a few meetings and the vibe there was decidedly different.

Baltimore is a mystery to me.

It has great “bones” so to speak, row houses, several great universities, a picturesque harbor and a world class hospital. It also suffers from substantial blight, including thousands of abandoned buildings.

Based on its assets, you’d think Baltimore would be thriving, but it struggles. Years after the show ended, it still feels like you’ve arrived on the set of the great HBO series “The Wire.” But hope abides and we visited two amazing foundations hard at work to heal and help Baltimore.

The Annie E. Casey Foundation and the Goldseker Foundation were gracious enough to meet with me and my colleagues at the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation to share their work and best practices. We left energized and educated.

Baltimore has dedicated people who continue to believe. That makes a big difference.

Back in D.C. we met with the wonderful people at the Bainum Family Foundation, the Aspen Institute, the Smithsonian Institution and the National Portrait Gallery to discuss the state of philanthropy, our nation and the possibilities that lie ahead as we gear up to celebrate America’s 250th birthday.

Across town at the Capitol, Congress passed the “big, beautiful bill” at 4 a.m. while we slept. I doubt anyone read all 1,100 pages.

Democrats see the bill as catastrophic. Republicans hailed it as a nation changing (for the better) investment that will lower taxes and increase border security. Two vastly different perspectives that dovetail with the state of our nation these days.

I happened to fly to Washington seated next to my Congresswoman Lois Frankel. It was happenstance. I’ve known Rep. Frankel for a long time. We were mayors together back in the day, Lois in West Palm, me in Delray.

Also, on the plane, surrounded by a phalanx of Secret Service, was Eric Trump. Yes, he flew commercial.

Frankel and Trump—two ends of our national spectrum.

One side believes we are making America great again, the other believes we are in danger of losing our Republic.

Never the twain shall meet, wrote Kipling.  Rudyard’s old poem proves prophetic. We are so different it feels like we can never be brought together again. That saddens me, it ought to sadden all of us.

But when we landed, I saw the Washington Monument, the beauty of the Old Executive Office Building, the grandeur of the White House and the magnificence of the Smithsonian. And briefly my melancholy for a more united United States lifted–for just a moment.

We toured the newly built African American History Museum, toured the National Portrait Gallery and met with the men and women who bring these places to life.

We got insights from the head of the Marriott Family Foundation and the president of the National Center for Family Philanthropy who also happened to be the person who shepherded the “Giving Pledge” which is an effort by the nation’s richest to donate their life’s savings to charity upon their deaths. Not every rich person is an oligarch. But the oligarchs seem to get more attention than those who use their money to help people. It seems in vogue to be all out of empathy these days.

But from these philanthropic experts and historians we heard about innovative ways to impact problems, help those in need and move our nation forward.

All are concerned about our current state of polarization and dysfunction, but all are confident that we will have a brighter future.

On our third day in D.C. I awoke to the news that two young Israeli Embassy employees were murdered outside the Capital Jewish Museum, a few blocks from where we were staying.

The news shocked and saddened me. The two young people were known as “bridge builders.” We can hardly afford to lose those willing to extend a hand across the divide. And so, amidst my pride and hope, in crept a feeling of melancholy. Sometimes it can feel crushing.

But the people I had the privilege of meeting are smart, gentle and empathetic individuals dedicating their lives to the betterment of our world.

They are data driven but lead with heart and compassion— as all leaders should.

They are better than our politics.

The best of us serve. The best of us empower. We build up instead of tear down.

So, I hold on to my optimism about the future despite the headwinds which are substantial and at times seemingly intractable. But I also know that until ‘we the people’ demand more from our politics and our parties (both of them) we will never get to the promised land. We will never reach our potential as a nation.

Division, corruption, money, partisanship, chaos and plain old meanness are in the way of what we can be.

We need more independent leaders and far fewer sycophants who put their wallets and careers above the country’s future.

A visit to Washington reminds me of why I love America. I feel blessed to have been born, raised and educated here (thanks to the sacrifices of my immigrant grandparents).

It’s time to insist on a better path forward. America and its people, the world and its people deserve leaders focused on the future not the next political or financial opportunity.

I saw “the other Washington”. It’s full of wonder and possibilities. It deserves the support of those who currently spend their days fighting.

They are endangering the greatest nation this world has ever seen.

The Best of Us

Bound for College Founder Mark Sauer seen here with super volunteer Chuck Halberg.

In honor of Memorial Day: “Our debt to the heroic men and valiant women in the service of our country can never be repaid. They have earned our undying gratitude. America will never forget their sacrifices.” – President Harry S. Truman

I was sitting at the bar at the Hay-Adams Hotel in Washington when I got the news.

My friend, Mark Sauer had passed away.
I was in Washington on a business trip and stopped into the historic Off the Record bar to relax after several days of nonstop meetings when I got the news that literally took my breath away.
Mark was not only a friend, he was an inspiration and a personal hero of mine.
I got to know Mark when he founded Delray Students First which later became Bound for College.
The nonprofit is changing the lives of local students who without the help of Mark and the organization would never be able to go college. Many are the first in their families to get a higher education.
This effort is changing lives. This effort is saving lives and this effort is breaking the cycle of poverty. And it’s all because of Mark Sauer’s passionate and relentless work on behalf of young people who became his life.
He brought love, energy, ideas, grit, resilience and intellect to the cause. Mark’s dedication attracted a legion of donors, volunteers, tutors and students to the mission. Mark sparked a movement; losing him is simply devastating and beyond words.
Over the years, Mark and I became good friends. We adore his wife Donna who worked alongside him and helped Mark build something so beautiful and so special. That mission will go on.
The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation is proud to support Bound for College. We knew that betting on Mark was a sure thing because he brought his heart to the work, making sure the kids had all they needed to make it. He spoke to teachers, coaches and employers. He handled dental and health issues, got involved with the families of those he served and led with love.
Mark and I had many conversations over the years. Usually at Granger’s where we discussed the great issues of the day and Mark’s plans for the kids he cared for so deeply. He was all about them.
He was all about changing the trajectory of their lives.  I will miss our talks. He taught me, encouraged me and inspired me.  And so many others can say the same thing.
His heart, his mindset was focused solely on the future. He wanted to help as many kids as possible and he was doing it.
Bound for College is spreading across the county and it’s making a difference.
Mark took on this work, this labor of love after a remarkable career in business which included running theme parks, the Pittsburgh Pirates, the St. Louis Cardinals and the St. Louis Blues. Mark was  modest about his career, but he was very proud of his efforts on behalf of young children who needed a helping hand. He fell in love with Delray Beach and he changed this place for the better. He woke up everyday focused on his mission: helping kids who needed it.
His work will continue and the dividends of that work will last generations.
I will miss him terribly. We all will.
But I want to celebrate Mark’s many accomplishments. I want to remember and appreciate his heart for children who needed a helping hand for a chance at a better life. Mark was that hand and that heart for so so many. His influence will live on in the lives of these wonderful young people Mark discovered and nurtured. He saw them. He saw their limitless potential. He saw their promise and their need and he dedicated his life to meeting those needs. He gave them an opportunity, a hand-up, not a hand-out and they took it and ran with it to places we cannot yet imagine.
Their lives are better because of Mark and Bound for College. He was the best of America. He was the best of us and his heart will live on.
J&J’s
Last week we also learned that J&J’s Seafood was closing June 14 after 26 wonderful years.
John and Tina Hutchinson are terrific people and restaurateurs and this news saddened their fans—my wife and I among them.
It’s where we got engaged so J&J’s holds a special place in our hearts.
Along with Granger’s, J&J’s was a longtime go-to restaurant, a place where I can walk from my office and have a great meal and enjoy excellent and friendly service.
John is an immensely talented chef and his creativity is legendary.
This great, good place will be dearly missed. I hold out hope that they can find a place in our high rent town. Their team is precious and special and we need that kind of hospitality in our community. My heart goes out to the wonderful people who made this restaurant soar for a generation. Here’s looking at you Claudia and Courtney.
We wish for more.

Granger’s Was A Great, Good Place

Granger’s Grille.

Note: This is an early version of the blog. I’m traveling to our nation’s capital next week on business and won’t be at my desk to write and post Monday. I hope you don’t mind the intrusion in your inbox.

 

I’m going to miss Granger’s.

The iconic restaurant on Federal Highway closed its doors last week with a sad sign off on Facebook thanking patrons for their loyalty.

I’d like to thank Granger’s for their grilled cheese, their turkey burgers and their home-made chips—which were unparalleled. Granger’s Grille felt like the Delray version of “Cheers”—a place where everybody knew your name. We need these kinds of places; in fact we crave them.

It was interesting to see the reaction to the surprise announcement. Lots of regulars expressed genuine sadness at the news and lamented the loss of yet another local staple—and a relatively affordable one at that. Across the border in Boca, I watched a similar reaction to the news that Belzers Hardware announced that it was closing after many decades. Locals talked about shopping at Belzers in the 50s.

We feel these losses somewhere deep in our souls. These places are what make us feel that we’re home.

As for me, I’m still mourning the closure of The Annex in Pineapple Grove—but the loss of Granger’s  stings even more.

Granger’s was my “go-to”, an easy answer for lunch, a place where it was easy to park, the wait staff was friendly, and best of all you can always count on finding at least six other friends among the tables.

I was a frequent flier at Granger’s for years—first at their old location near Rex’s Hair Salon (also gone but never forgotten) and later at the new location which was spacious and featured easy and ample parking. I was there at least 1-2 times a week, even during Covid, when they were a great place to pick-up some tasty take-out.

I finally mastered the credit card machine, a considerable accomplishment for a tech luddite such as myself. And while I never made it to rib night, I had planned too. But alas that opportunity has passed unless of course they find a new location and get the band back together. (One can hope).

My friends in the restaurant business tell me times are tough for independent proprietors. Food costs are high, insurance is expensive, the workforce can’t afford to live here and rents are astronomical. There’s also an immense amount of competition. It can’t be easy to fill seats on Tuesday and Wednesday nights, and the summers are long, hot and devoid of snowbirds. It’s hard to know when and if our friends from Canada will return; who can blame them.

But all I know is that places like Granger’s are important.

Life is funny, you never know when your last time doing (fill in the blank) will be. We remember the first times, but we often don’t recognize last times.

My “last time” at Grangers was two weeks ago when I had a chance to have lunch with the legendary Tony Allerton and the soon to be legendary Steve English.

Tony is a long-time friend. He’s a local icon who has literally saved thousands of lives through his work at The Crossroads Club.

Tony is in his 90s now, sharp as a tack and still working.

We share a lot of history and a love for Granger’s, what I call a “great, good place” —a phrase I’m borrowing from Ray Oldenburg.

Mr. Oldenburg is gone now. But he made a great and lasting contribution to our culture. He was an urban sociologist who coined the term “third place” to describe the importance of informal gathering spaces—coffee shops, parks, bookstores, cultural venues and the like.

First place is the home, second place is the workplace, and third places are the anchors of community life where we find connection and community.

They are important civic assets.

Oldenburg’s ideas remain influential, and the best cities embrace his “Third Place” philosophy by encouraging and supporting these gathering spots.

According to experts, there are several characteristics of a third place.

A third place accepts people from all walks of life.

Conversation is the focus.

They are accessible and accommodating.

There are regulars who hang out.

They tend to be low profile.

They are playful, fun and casual.

They are “a home away from home.”

Granger’s ticked most if not all those boxes.

Sadly, third places are declining.

We don’t go to the movies anymore, we don’t join bowling leagues like we used to do and service clubs are struggling to attract young members.

We do play pickleball, so that’s a plus.

Anyway, Grangers was a great, good place. I sure hope they find another location. But if they don’t, I will cherish the memories. I’m already wistful when I drive by….

 

This week, I was honored to eulogize my friend Nancy Stewart-Franczak, who passed away recently. A huge crowd turned out on a rainy night at the Delray Beach Golf Club to pay tribute to a woman who meant so much to so many. Nancy’s loss leaves a huge void in the lives of her husband, her family, her friends, work colleagues and the communities she served with her outstanding special events.

I got several requests to share my remarks so here they are…

 

Delray Beach has lost a true friend.

There are no words to adequately describe what Nancy meant to her family, her friends, her community.

We loved her.

She loved all of us, touched all of us, inspired all of us and led by example.

She was tough and soft. Resilient and loving. Determined and sensitive. She was fun and funny, warm and wise.

She put this town on the map with her vision and grit. She was a force —full of ideas and the rare visionary who not only dreamed big but had the skill to execute on those dreams.

She made so much happen. So much. It’s staggering what she accomplished with a small but powerful team. But she was always humble. Always willing to listen and always open to new things. Nancy never stopped growing. She never stopped learning, and she never stopped dreaming. She set an example for all of us.

 

I’ve had a few days to reflect on my friend Nancy and I’m left with a bunch of emotions: I feel deep sadness over this loss, I’m in awe of her legacy and like you I’m absolutely heartbroken. We were not prepared to let Nancy go… Somehow, we thought that Nancy was indestructible.

But while she is no longer here with us, she will always be with us in spirit. And the seeds she planted, the dreams she realized, will long endure.

She touched so many, so deeply. And I think I know why.

It’s because she was genuine.

In a fast-moving transactional world, our Nancy was real and rooted.

She wore her passion on her sleeve, spoke her mind and loved this place. She loved Delray Beach, even when the powers that be didn’t love her back.

What I’ve seen in the past few weeks is a tremendous outpouring of love from people in this community that Nancy touched. They never went away. They never left her side. Nancy’s community never left her. And she never left our side either. She never stopped taking pride in a community she helped to build.

 

I saw Nancy weather a lot in recent years. Illness.  Pain. Toxic politics.

I debated whether to mention what Nancy and her team at FMG went through relative to the Garlic Fest.

But I think the story is essential to Nancy’s story and a testament to her strength and character.

It’s also a teachable moment. And it has a happy ending because after 9 years, Garlic Festival is coming back. And Nancy knew that. Her pride and joy is coming back to Delray; where she wanted it to be, and where it belongs.

I was mayor when Nancy asked me and Diane, then the CRA Director to travel with her to Gilroy California to show us what a Garlic Festival can mean to a community.

She wanted me to see her vision. She was going to build a festival that gave back to Delray. And she did. Because when Nancy set out to do something it got done.

When the powers that be sent her away, she stood her ground. She told her story. She stood up and spoke truth to power.

It was during this time that we grew closer. Being forced to take Garlic Festival to a new location was hard for Nancy and her team. But they made it work, and the festival grew. But she never gave up on bringing it home.

This is where we saw Nancy’s strength. We saw her faith. Her ability to pivot like all great entrepreneurs and her ability to reinvent and grow her business with other signature events.

She led by example, and she set an example.

When our community learned of Nancy’s passing, we saw a tremendous outpouring of love and respect.

Words like icon, visionary, resilience and kindness were used to describe Nancy.

I can add many: honest, loving, passionate and courageous are just a few  that come to mind. Nancy was something else; she was truly remarkable.

I hope we have learned to appreciate and respect these special people in our midst. That’s the teachable moment.

Cities are cities. It’s the special people who show up, roll up their sleeves and get to work that make them special. It’s people like Nancy who make our hometowns feel like home.

Nancy’s life was devoted to building community, she benefited several cities in the area but none more than Delray.

We need to cherish people like Nancy. The people in this room certainly do. We need to insist that the visionaries in our midst are treated with grace and compassion.  That’s what makes or breaks a village. Nancy knew that. She got up every day and worked hard to strengthen the village. And she succeeded. With kindness, humor and a fierce determination that made her uniquely our Nancy.

I’ll conclude by saying that I felt very close to Nancy. She was easy to talk to; we laughed together and cried a few times too. She was a loyal friend. A trusted confidant and someone I deeply respected. I loved her. We all did.

Her memory will be a blessing to all of us…she’ll live forever in our hearts.

Last week, during a visit to Maine, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was in a storm with winds so strong that bricks were flying.

In the dream, I was dodging the bricks.

When I awoke, I thought about the dream and what it may have meant.

I think I figured it out, I was listening to a song the day before by Willie Nelson, it’s called “It’s Open Season on my Heart.”  There’s a line in the song that I think may have prompted my dream. Here’s the line.

The days go by like flying bricks

Leave gaping holes too deep to fix.

When we reach a certain stage of life, we start to lose people who are essential to us.

Every day the bricks are flying and sometimes they hit us and leave gaping holes too deep to fix.

Losing Nancy leaves a gaping hole to deep to fix. But while the loss hurts, we wouldn’t trade a moment, because the love we’ve experienced transcends the loss.

To Nancy’s husband John, I’m so sorry for your loss. You’ve shared with me your faith that she is with G-d. We wish you peace during this difficult time.

To Nancy’s family. Thank you for sharing Nancy with us. She enriched our lives immensely.

To Nancy’s family at FMG…I know how hard this has been for you. I hope you feel the support of an appreciative community who very much want you to continue Nancy’s remarkable work. We love the FMG team.  And we  love Nancy…

Through the Lens

Lenses and viewpoints

I believe all of us have a unique way of looking at the world.
We possess a personal frame of reference that helps us make sense of the world as we work our work our way through the days of our lives.

I look at the world through three distinct lenses; that of a journalist, a mayor and lately a playwright.
Let me explain.
When I see something new or interesting I think about how I’d report on it (the journalist in me), how I’d approach it or adapt it to my town (if I were a mayor) and lately how I’d dramatize it (my new passion, playwriting).
My friends view the world in their own way.

Some think about how they’d monetize a thought (the entrepreneur), how they’d develop it (a real estate mind) or how they’d market it (a branding guru or salesperson).
Yes, we all have our lenses.

Here’s an example, when I’ve been out with police officers for dinner, I noticed that they look at their surroundings differently. I can see them scan the room. The veterans have a sixth sense honed by years of experience. It’s fascinating to witness.

Recently, I participated in a think tank exercise about the future and I was struck by how one of the participants saw the recent volatility in the stock market.
Personally, all this jumping around has freaked me out a little. Ok, a lot.
I’m not used to checking the futures market before going to bed fearful of what the next day will bring.
Maybe it’s because I’m nearing retirement and getting to an age where I will be relying on investments to see me through the rest of my life. Or maybe it’s because you reach an age when your window for making back your losses shrinks. We know that nothing goes up forever, but it’s hard when the market resembles a Six Flags rollercoaster.
But I digress.
One of the participants in the session seemed resigned and somewhat OK with the loss of value seeing it as a good thing that will force positive changes in America.
While I don’t agree, I was fascinated by this man’s cool and his confidence that this was all meant to be and somehow good.
We see things through different lenses.

I grew up being taught that doctors were to be respected, that vaccines were a scientific blessing that would keep us safe from pathogens and that fluoride in the water would keep my teeth from rotting. I remember lining up in elementary school to drink a foul tasting shot of fluoride in a Dixie Cup. We were told it was good for our teeth and we believed our teachers.
All three of these beliefs-and a whole lot of other things—are being challenged today.

I was raised to believe that public service was a noble calling, that institutions were there to advance the public good and that America stood for truth, justice and equality and against tyranny, oppression and the violation of human rights.
Needless to say some of those ideals are being challenged like never before. Politicians have always lied, but this seems to be a new level. We can’t agree on basic information anymore. It’s a disorienting experience for those of us who have seen a culture where compromise and working together were viewed as a preferred method of doing business.

Some of my friends would take great exception to the above paragraph.

They see a  need for a wholesale and much needed reckoning, a recalibration of our ideals and a new path forward that will get us back on track.
I see us sliding into a pit.

I believe in due process (for everyone), the rule of law and checks and balances.
Different lenses, different outlooks, different and differing realities.
So how does it all reconcile? That’s my question.

Is it possible to stay united and see things so differently? Is it possible to be brothers and sisters and see the world and reality from totally different perspectives?
I don’t know the answer to those questions. But I know they must be answered, our current reality does not seem sustainable.
A guy I know tells me he’s going to home school his children when the time comes. The kids are young now, but he and his wife have no desire to send their children to public schools. They want to design their own curriculum for their kids. That is certainly their right. And I respect that; and the notion that our schools are lacking and in need of reform. But a part of me found it sad because I think public education is part of our genius as a nation and that the socialization that occurs on the playground, in the classroom, the gym and the lunch room are the common glue of experience that binds us together.
Today, we are trapped behind screens, separated from each other by algorithms, drugged by notifications and herded into tribes taught to hate the other tribes.
I get the lenses. What I see, I want to write about and dramatize.
But I sure hope that our lenses are not blinders. I hope they don’t stop of us from pursuing worthwhile goals.  I hope we leave room for peripheral vision and perspectives. I sure hope that we preserve what we used to cherish and celebrate—what we used to call the commons.