Jeff Perlman | Page 11 | Your Delray Boca

19 December, 2022 0 Comments

A Leader’s Legacy

December 19, 2022 By Jeff Perlman Leave a Comment

“Remember always, for you and me, to serve is to live.” Frances Hesselbein 1915-2022

One of my heroines died last week.

She was 107 years old so you can’t say she wasn’t given enough time. But her loss is a profound one, nonetheless.

Frances Hesselbein may the most accomplished person that most people don’t know.

She was a Presidential Medal of Freedom recipient, former CEO of the Girls Scouts of America and one of the most highly respected experts in the field of leadership development.

Ms. Hesselbein served as editor in chief of “Leader to Leader” magazine for over 25 years and her name adorns the Frances Hesselbein Leadership Forum run by the Johnson Institute for Responsible Leadership at the University of Pittsburgh. She was a giant in a field that is essential for society to advance.

But while leadership is essential, we don’t spend a lot of time cultivating good leaders. We do a spend a lot of time complaining about poor leadership and trying to fix the problems of people who have no business serving in leadership positions.

Narcissists, egomaniacs, bullies, and frauds want to run things. And they are pretty good at climbing the ladder. They are good at seizing power but horrible at wielding it.

Frances Hesselbein believed in a better form of leadership.

In her obituary on the Pitt website https://www.pitt.edu/pittwire/features-articles/frances-hesselbein-obituary she was described as a “leader of leaders” and a “skilled and sensitive visionary.”

I love that description.

Ms. Hesselbein believed that “to serve is to live.” She understood that leadership is a deeply personal act of love that allows us to serve others.

Great leaders make us feel safe. They take of others. They inspire, motivate and serve.

How many people in positions of power and authority can we say that about?

In my opinion, not enough. And that is the root cause of what ails society and the solution as well. Want to suffer; keep hiring and electing malevolent players. Want to see progress; hire servant leaders. It’s just that simple.

I’ve been a leadership junkie for as long as I can remember. It is my sincere belief that leadership provides the answers to the challenges plaguing our world.
There’s not a field, not an endeavor, not a pursuit that good leadership can’t impact. Not every problem has a solution, but nearly every problem can be made better with good leadership.

Look at any business, non-profit, government, school, or relationship and if you see problems that persist, chances are the root cause is a lack of leadership.

I know, that’s a big statement. Let me explain.

We often fixate on symptoms:

Your workplace lacks a clearly defined mission.

A beloved non-profit is adrift.

Your city government can’t seem to get things done.

Everyone one of those examples would see improvement with good leadership.

I’ve been lucky to witness several examples of good leadership in my life, but I’ve also seen many more examples of toxic leadership (is that an oxymoron?).

For every benevolent CEO profiled in Jim Collins’ “Good to Great” there seems to be 10 loons like crypto creep Sam Bankman-Fried, Theranos fraud Elizabeth Holmes, Uber bro Travis Kalanick and egomaniac WeWork Founder Adam Neumann.

Sadly, Elon Musk seems to be flinging himself in the trash, trolling Covid victims on his new toy Twitter calling them the “Branch Covidians.” Not sure that pithy phrase will get a laugh from the loved ones of the 6.5 million people who died in the pandemic or the millions more who suffer from Long Covid. He must think they aren’t potential Tesla buyers. I thought one day I might want a Tesla, not anymore.

There are so many political train wrecks to write about I can’t even begin to list them, but all failed pols have the same thing in common: they forgot they are there to serve their country, their state, their county or their city not their party, their ego or their echo chamber.

Frances Hesselbein knew all this and over her long life influenced thousands of good leaders. She made a difference, but we need more help.

Every day, the Frances Hesselbein Leadership Forum, sends a “Leadership Tip of the Day” via email to thousands. I have found the tips to be invaluable and I urge you to subscribe. Just google Leadership Tip of the Day and you’ll be able to subscribe. It’s free, but the value is priceless.

I’ll leave you with a story about Sam Bankman-Fried that I found particularly telling and especially nauseating.

Apparently, when he was pitching a major Venture Capital firm for millions in funding, he was playing a video game while outlining his vision for his cryptocurrency exchange. Rather than considering that rude behavior, the esteemed VC’s thought it was quirky, charming and showed that Bankman-Fried was a different kind of thinker. A disruptor. VC’s love disruptors.

Oh, he was disruptor alright. He raised $1.8 billion from a ‘who’s who’of investors: BlackRock, Sequoia Capital and the poor Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan.

He got the value of his company up to $32 billion. Today, that money and those of his investors (large and small) is gone.

Maybe, he should have been focused on ethics instead of video games.

Poor leadership disrupts and destroys.

We can do better.

Ms. Hesselbein should have the last word:

“Leadership flows from inner character and integrity of ambition, which inspires others to lend themselves to your organization’s mission.”

Amen.

Frances Hesselbein

12 December, 2022 2 2 Comments

Where Everybody Knows Your Name…

December 12, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 2 Comments

Delray Lakes has been home for more than 20 years.

Our neighbors moved recently.

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

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

We live in a special place called Delray Lakes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The place just feels good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it all started as neighbors in Strathmore Village.

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

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

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

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

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

We are social creatures, not meant to be alone.

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

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

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

But not in my neighborhood.

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

As it should be…

5 December, 2022 6 6 Comments

Grace & Leadership Under Pressure

December 5, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Indeed, it is.

Progress and effort make a difference.

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

Don’t you just love that term?

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

And that sums it up.

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

Are we working on it?

You betcha.

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

Bravo!

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

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

28 November, 2022 4 4 Comments

The Last Newspaper

November 28, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 4 Comments

Ken Tingley has written a love letter to the local newspaper.

A few weeks back, I wrote about cleaning out a junk drawer and finding an old Delray Times newspaper from 1995.

I worked for that paper for about a decade from 1987 to 1996 when I left to start my own education newspaper.

I’ve been blessed with a lot of interesting and great jobs/roles in my life, but none better than being a reporter for the old South Florida Newspaper Network.

It wasn’t the pay (we made very little money).

It wasn’t the perks. (There were none unless you count free parking).

It was the people and the job itself.

Newsrooms attract funny, smart, talented, creative, and idealistic souls. It was a joy to work with them in a wide-open office where every day was an adventure.

You get to hear about the interesting stories your colleagues are working on, the colorful characters they are chasing and the “you can’t make this stuff up” things you see when it’s your job to report what’s going on in town.

I know it’s fashionable to bash the press these days. “Fake news” is the latest adorable saying meant to undercut the credibility of the only industry protected by our Constitution. It is protected because a free press is essential to a Democracy.

I’ve been on both sides of the pen so to speak. I spent years as a journalist covering people making news and I’ve been written about, which is far less fun.

I’ve seen amazing reporters and I’ve seen some bad ones, but there’s no doubt in my mind that a free press keeps us a free people.

I’ve been thinking about the role of local newspapers a lot these days.

When I moved to South Florida in 1987, Delray Beach was covered by four newspapers: The Sun-Sentinel, The Palm Beach Post, The Boca Raton News and the Monday-Thursday Papers (my alma mater and the precursor to the South Florida Newspaper Network). On big stories, the Miami Herald came to town.

You had to work hard not to know what was going on in Boca and Delray.

And the level of coverage spurred civic engagement. More people voted. More people attended Commission meetings (they weren’t at 4 p.m. when anyone who works can’t attend) and more people volunteered because they knew what was going on and when you know what’s happening, you’re more likely to want to be involved.

Everyone knew their city commissioners, county commissioners, school board members and state legislators. They attended charettes and visioning conferences, they showed up to protest or support projects and they relied on the local papers for information. In other words, there was a community ‘water cooler’ and local reporters competed fiercely for readers, so you saw a lot of “enterprise” reporting not just dry meeting coverage.

In hindsight, it was a golden age. Not only for newspapers but for civic engagement. We never thought it could end.

But it did.

Not with a big crash, but with a slow-motion agonizing fade that saw newspapers shrivel up, or in the case of the Boca News—die. Even the vaunted Monday-Thursday Papers went away.

My friends in community journalism found other careers in public relations, marketing, advertising and sometimes in fields that had nothing to do with writing or communications. One former senior newsroom guy that I knew, ended up living in his car in a Boca Raton parking lot. The last time I saw him, he had his arm broken by someone who tried to rob him while he slept. We met and he was offering to sell me memorabilia from his career. It was a sad and terrible end to what had been a good run.

But as much as the people in the field suffered and were forced to reinvent themselves, the communities they covered suffered as well and continue to pay the price.

Today, there is no water cooler.

We have Facebook which often spreads misinformation, one monthly newspaper that has an odd bent (in my opinion), a few lifestyle magazines, a few newsletters (one is anonymous which undercuts its credibility) and a podcast or two with limited audiences.

We are poorer because our newspapers have gone away. The Sun Sentinel and Palm Beach Post are sad shells of their past versions, and the few reporters around don’t seem to have any history in our community. We lose something real and valuable when institutional memory becomes forgotten history. Coverage suffers without context; it’s like coming into a movie that’s half over and pretending to know the plot.

I recently finished a wonderful book called “The Last American Newspaper” by Ken Tingley. It’s a poignant book that tells the sad story of The Post-Star, an award winning newspaper in Glens Falls, N.Y.

The paper was a local powerhouse and even won a Pulitzer Prize for its editorials, an almost unheard-of victory for a small newspaper.

But the Post-Star was ambitious and committed to the community it served for over a century. The newsroom—led by Mr. Tingley— reported the news fairly and accurately, surfacing important issues from teenage drinking and domestic violence to homelessness and the financial troubles of the local hospital, which also happened to be a major advertiser.

Because the Post-Star did its job so well, the paper sparked important conversations that often led to meaningful change.

But over time, as the Internet came to dominate, the Post-Star lost revenue and no longer had the resources to produce the in-depth journalism that communities need to thrive.

The diminishment of local journalism is an important issue that needs to be addressed by every community in America. But especially here, in fast moving complicated South Florida.

I’ve long believed that it is easier to find out what is going on in Kabul, than it is to find out what’s happening at City Hall. That’s not good if you value community and if you care about your tax dollars.

Rogues thrive in the darkness where brave reporters once shined a light.

I don’t have any answers. In my opinion, nobody does.

I keep tabs on my old profession and see a few promising seeds: local newsletters that sell subscriptions, online newspapers, city-oriented podcasts etc. But there’s nothing like a newspaper. The magic of opening something you can touch and discovering something interesting and noteworthy.

We will lose a lot when the last newspaper vanishes. We already have.

21 November, 2022 4 4 Comments

Living Life In Crescendo

November 21, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 4 Comments

“The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.”

― Pablo Picasso

Pablo has a point.

I heard that morsel of wisdom during a podcast interview with Cynthia Covey Haller, the daughter of Stephen Covey, who wrote the book “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.”

Ms. Haller has a new book out called “Live Life in Crescendo: Your Most Important Work Is Always Ahead of You.”
In the book, she tries to channel the thoughts of her father who was in his late 50s when he had his greatest success. Stephen Covey was living proof that late in life success was possible and having an “ever-forward-looking” attitude– as he described it— was a key to success.

In music, the term crescendo describes a gradual increase in loudness or intensity. Applied to life, it means we should always be building toward something. (Like my friend Randy).

I like that approach. It’s aspirational.

And that “crescendo” mindset should apply to your business, your town, your volunteer work… everything, especially your relationships. Basically, it’s a belief that life can get better.

The opposite is something called a “decrescendo” which, when applied to life, means that the best times are in your rear-view mirror.

As we approach Thanksgiving, I find myself thankful for the people in my life who are living a life of crescendo. They energize and inspire me and everyone around them.

Now living life in crescendo doesn’t mean that you will experience ever growing success…people, athletes, businesses and even relationships experience peaks and valleys. But it does mean we should continue to aspire.

Aspire…what a beautiful word. It comes from the Latin “aspirare”, which means ‘to breathe’.

To breathe is to live and to aspire is to pursue great deeds.

So, this Thanksgiving I am grateful for all those who aspire to do great deeds.

Everywhere I look, there are good people who wake up every day trying to make their corner of the world a better place.

Old School Square’s board of directors are a prime example. Kicked to the curb by an ungrateful city government, the volunteers continue to support schools and local artists. They are the best people I know.

At the Knights of Pythagoras Mentoring Network, my friend C. Ron Allen works day after day, year after year, with our youth giving them experiences and knowledge that they will use to navigate a difficult world.

The EJS Project is also remarkable. This non-profit is doing important work in the heart of our city with our children. They are building a better tomorrow.

The Milagro Center is aptly named, because they work miracles for our children as does Ali Kaufman and her team at Space of Mind. The Community Classroom Project is the kind of innovation we need.

I’m a big fan of our Public Library and especially of Kae Johnsons who works tirelessly to make Delray a better place.

And the list goes on…especially of those people of a certain age living a life of crescendo.

For instance, there’s retired Fire Chief Kerry Koen, who teaches me something every time we speak. Now granted, I have a lot to learn, but Chief Koen’s lessons are profound and lasting.

My dad, at age 84, remains vital and vibrant, a positive example of how to live a life of grace and humility. Fran, his significant other, is special too.

Frances Bourque is an inspiration to generations of civic leaders in Delray. For those of us who know all that she has brought to our community; we are thankful. For those who have missed this wonderful woman’s gifts—well it’s not too late to call on her for advice, she’s awfully generous.

The team at the Delray Chamber is to be commended for building community and looking beyond the important interests of the business community to care about the entirety of the community. They present a powerful message of inclusion and hope for the future. We Are Delray is their motto. And we are.

My wife and best friend Diane, who has embraced retirement with gusto—rescuing pets, helping neighbors, staying in touch with friends, learning Italian and shining a light on Parkinson’s lives a life in crescendo. For Diane, I am eternally grateful.

Wishing you all a happy, healthy, and safe Thanksgiving.

Thanks for reading!

14 November, 2022 2 2 Comments

The Ties That Happily Bind

November 14, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 2 Comments

Rex’s Hairstyling has been a community institution and a source of community for close to 40 years.

I miss the movies.

I miss newspapers.

I miss magazines.

I miss bookstores.

I miss albums (and getting lost in a great record store).

I miss civility.

I miss the America I knew in the 70s and 80s. But I’m still filled to the brim with patriotism.

I miss sleep.

I miss endless summers.

I miss boring hurricane seasons.

I miss Blood’s Groves.

I miss Ken and Hazel’s.

I miss seeing my buddy Perry at Boston’s on the Beach.

I miss 32 East.

I miss Chip Stokes at St. Paul’s.

I miss listening to stories in Mr. and Mrs. Pompey’s living room.

I miss Joe and Carolyn Gholston.

I miss visits with Libby Wesley.

I miss Sister Mary Clare’s brogue.

I miss roasts. (And when this town had a sense of humor).

I miss charrettes.

I miss optimism.

I miss the sense that anything was possible.

Because it was.

Celebrating A Friend

A few months back, I wrote a tribute to Karyn Premock who died tragically in an accident in Tennessee. https://yourdelrayboca.com/remembering-our-friend/

Karyn, who used to work at Rex’s Hairstyling, is beloved in Delray Beach. She touched so many lives.

I had the honor of speaking at her “celebration of life” at The Dunes over the weekend. The place was packed, and it could have been filled four times with the number of people who wanted a chance to mourn and celebrate.

Karyn is missed. I find myself thinking about her often, especially when I pass her old house in Lake Ida on the way to the park near the Delray Playhouse.

The celebration was closure for many of us, but it’s still difficult to reconcile that she’s gone. One minute you’re here…the next your gone. It’s sobering but also clarifying because it’s important to cherish the people who enrich our lives and communities.

We live in coarse times. And you have to ask why?

Why?

Karyn was a bright light. She made us smile. You can’t put a price on what that’s worth. Her warmth, her energy, her caring made a real and lasting difference.

Earlier in the week, we learned that Rex’s will be closing Dec. 30.

Another Delray institution passing into the history books and memory banks.

Words cannot express how special a place Rex’s has been. How important it has been to this community. The scene of countless first haircuts, endless conversation, loud laughs and love. Lots and lots and lots of love.

When you walk through the doors you got more than a haircut, you got community.

The special people who work there adore each other and their customers. In today’s often toxic world, you can’t put a price on that.

Karyn created a family in that shop. She leaves behind a legacy of love and warmth.

So does Rex’s Hairstyling.

We need more of these great places….

Untimely Loss

Speaking of untimely loss, we were stunned to hear the news of Anthony “Rumble” Johnson’s death over the weekend.

The MMA legend was a neighbor for a few years and always kind and friendly to everyone, especially the children in our neighborhood who loved his big truck. He died after an illness at 38.

Rest In Peace.

I’m glad the Election is over.

What a waste of money…what an exercise in (fill in the blank).

I don’t care what side of the divide you’re on, all of us were inundated with an endless barrage of mud that did not offer a single thoughtful solution or a way forward, only reasons why should we fear/hate each other.

Let’s hope the upcoming municipal elections in March will offer us more substance.

There are real issues to discuss; the Delray bond issue, water issues, what do with Old School Square, where to site a new fire station now that we are losing our long term (and mutually beneficial arrangement with Highland Beach), issues at City Hall, workforce housing, dispirited non-profits because of attitudes at City Hall and the CRA’s politicization and implementation of draconian terms to accept grants.

As for the election results, it was a monumentally consequential election for Palm Beach County.

A political earthquake.

Reliably blue Palm Beach County turned red. Not only did Gov. Ron DeSantis beat Charlie Crist but two prominent Democrats lost County Commission races.

County Mayor Bob Weinroth lost his seat to newcomer Mari Woodward and longtime civic leader Michelle McGovern lost her bid for a commission seat as well.

While both races surprised me, the Weinroth loss was a stunner.

Bob was a hardworking and highly visible elected official with lots of experience in city and county government.

I went to his opponent’s website to learn more, and she seemed to be a one-issue candidate with lots of words about Covid lockdowns. It will be interesting to see how she performs.

But it’s clear to me, that experience matters less than the team you’re on. You are either a D or an R. And neither side will consider voting for the candidates outside their tribe.

In those kinds of races, money (Weinroth had a bunch) matters less than turning out your team.

Personally, I don’t understand why the County Commission is a partisan body.

And love him or loathe him, Governor DeSantis had some serious coattails.

7 November, 2022 8 8 Comments

Photographs & Memories

November 7, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 8 Comments

A newspaper from 1995 and an old Flip digital camera were some of the treasures recently unearthed.

We replaced our bedroom set recently and that prompted a long-delayed dive into my dresser’s junk drawer.

You know, the drawer where you throw change, store greeting cards and keep things that don’t quite fit anywhere else.

The exercise was hard for me. I’m sort of… kind of… borderline-ish…. a hoarder. There, I said it.

I think it’s my sentimentality and my desire to someday revisit these treasures although I hardly ever do. So, opening that drawer and confronting what to do with its contents was a challenge for me.

What to keep?
What to toss?

I found a 27-year-old Delray Times newspaper featuring a front-page story I wrote entitled “The Delray Decade.” The subhead read: “In the past 10 years, the city has gone from pauper to prince.”

That was interesting, but more on that in a later column.

I found a keychain with a picture of Diane and I after one of our memorable outings—a visit to “Capone’s Dinner Show” in Orlando where we dined on spaghetti with a ketchup like sauce while watching actors and actresses dressed as 30s era Chicago gangsters ham it up.

I loved it!

Diane? Not so much.

Granted, the show wasn’t “Hamilton”, but Hamilton didn’t have an Italian buffet either. Regardless, they must be doing something right. I looked up the show and it’s still running 30 years after its debut. Maybe it the music or the period dress. Or, maybe it’s the Italian buffet. (I kept the keychain).

I also found an old “Flip” digital camcorder. Remember those? They were hot for about 10 minutes in 2006. They were discontinued in 2011. But I have one. According to eBay it’s worth about $24.99. I’m going to hold onto it a little longer. Someday it could be worth $30.

Besides when I looked at the digital videos I found one of my late cockatiel Butters singing the tarantella. I also found a slew of material that captured the day we filmed a commercial for Celsius featuring Mario Lopez. Heavyweight champ Wladimir Klitschko showed up that day—as a surprise. We quickly wrote him into the commercial. Today, Mr. Klitschko is in Ukraine fighting the Russians. I find myself thinking about him from time to time. He was a very nice man. I’m going to hold on to my Flip.

There were more treasures, an old business card from Gov. Charlie Crist (no comment), an All America City pin from 2001 and a photo marking Plastridge Insurance’s 100^th birthday—all keepers for sure.

But the best treasure was an autograph book I found dated June 1975.

We were moving from South Setauket N.Y. to Stony Brook, and I would be leaving my elementary school for 6^th grade at William Sydney Mount.

Apparently, I had my 5^th grade friends sign the book so I would remember them forever. I’m not sure kids do that these days, but autograph books were all the rage back in the 70s. I signed a bunch, and I kept this book for the past 47 years. It’s in great shape.

Unfortunately, most kids signed the book with bad poetry—the roses are red, violets are blue style prose that usually ended in some sort of insult. The nicer kids said they were only kidding. I think all of them were, but it was interesting to see a book of sophomoric insults written in ’75 that referenced Nixon and Kennedy, divorces, horses and The Fonz.

Here’s an example:

“The Nixon’s had their Richard. The Kennedy’s had their Jack. The Perlman’s had their Jeff and want their money back.”

That gem came from a girl named Pam, who happened to be the heartthrob not only in the class, but the whole school. Knowing me, I probably was thrilled that she took the time to sign my book—the actual content wouldn’t have mattered. I’m shocked I had the nerve to ask her to sign.

Apparently, I took the autograph book to my new school. Because there were a few 6^th grade classmates who signed as well.

The most poignant signature was from Mike Boyle, a friend of mine who would later join the FDNY and perish in 9/11.

“Roses are reddish, violets are bluish,” Mike wrote.

“In school you are newish.” In parentheses, he said to stick with him, and I did.

I was the new kid in school andMike was popular and athletic. He welcomed me into his circle of guys who had been together since kindergarten and all was well, even though our 6^th grade teacher was a dead ringer for Nurse Ratchet, only meaner.

The book was also signed by two of my oldest friends—Scott Savodnik and Howie Cohn. We didn’t go to elementary school together, but we did spend summers at the “pool club” in Stony Brook. Both signed the book and said we would always be the best of friends and 47 years later—we are.

In many ways, the book was prescient.

In the front of the book, I was asked to fill out a questionnaire:
Favorite authors: C.S. Lewis and Jack London (Not bad, young Jeff).

Favorite Saying: “Walk softly and carry a big stick.” (Odd choice)

In the future I will be a: Journalist (Bingo!)

Favorite Song: “Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song” by BJ Thomas (very odd for an 11-year-old) and “Philadelphia Freedom” – by Elton John (good choice, big hit during those patriotic bicentennial days).

I’m keeping that autograph book, bad poetry, and all.

Roses are red, violets are blue.

Let’s give old memories—and junk— their due.

31 October, 2022 4 4 Comments

Quotes From The Edge

October 31, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 4 Comments

Dare to be different

I’ve always loved quotes.

I used to collect them, but my computer crashed years ago, and I lost them all.

I haven’t had the heart to start over.

But I still enjoy reading quotes and sometimes I save them in my phone—for what I don’t know. Future inspiration I suppose.

I came across a few this past week that got me thinking.

This one is from filmmaker George Lucas.

“The secret is not to give up hope. It’s very hard not to because if you’re really doing something worthwhile, I think you will be pushed to the brink of hopelessness before you come through the other side.”

This is an interesting thought and largely true. I think of the businesses we’ve been involved with and the fits and starts that they all seem to have. It’s never a straight line. It’s almost always a bumpy road full of pivots, near death experiences and a slew of ups and downs.

My first venture was an education newspaper that started in Delray. It was called “Student and Parent”, a boring title but it told the story of what we were focused on. We covered local schools, wrote about teachers and exceptional young people, and reported on the hot issues in education.

Unable to afford a sales staff to sell ads and wanting to keep our monthly paper free of charge, we decided to try and get corporate sponsors who believed in our mission and would back us for a year.

Frank McKinney was kind enough to loan us one of his oceanfront “spec” houses for a launch party. We figured the novelty of seeing the home would entice business leaders to attend. We were right, and ended up attracting enough sponsors to pay our expenses for a year. They didn’t even mind that my mom incinerated the hors d’ouevres in a convection oven she had never seen before.

We expanded to Boca and then Boynton and then went countywide with a name change. We were now “The Education Times”. We dropped off papers at every school that would have us, bundling papers and putting them in teachers’ mailboxes so they could be sent home in back packs. We also delivered papers to city halls, libraries, community centers and places where we felt families with kids might be.

It was a lot of work. And we did it on a shoestring. No investors; a modest credit line. All the (meager) profits were re-invested in the biz.

Along the way, we were pushed to the brink of hopelessness, as Mr. Lucas says, not sure if we would ever see the other side. My low point happened when my mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness and my partner injured his back and was unable to work. Was it time to throw in the towel? We were growing, but still not out of the woods.

We decided to push forward. And eventually we came out the other side when a media company decided to buy us out and hire us to run our paper and help run their publications.

Today, I’m pitched a steady stream of ideas from young and not so young entrepreneurs, and I always ask them whether they have the resilience to keep going when the going gets rough, because it always does.

It’s hard to measure grit. Most people think they have it, until they’re severely challenged and then they find out if they really do.

Mike Tyson used to say that everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth. He’s not a role model, but he’s sure right about that.

Sometimes it is prudent to know when to fold them, as the song says. But that’s an art as well because you never want to walk away too early. Life is one brushback pitch after another. You must stay in the batter’s box and wait for your pitch and then deliver.

Wanting to quit is a common feeling, but you must press on even if you have to start something else.

The second quote that grabbed me comes from Kurt Vonnegut.

“Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can’t see from the center. Big, undreamed-of things. The people on the edge see them first.”

This one intrigues me because I am a “center” kind of guy. I’m in the middle politically, appreciate compromise and like to think I’m reasonable. (This is where my friends and wife may chuckle, but they know deep down that I don’t mean to be difficult. For example, because I’m left-handed, I require sitting on the side of the table where my arm won’t bother people. I think that’s considerate, not difficult).

Still, “the edge” intrigues me. I admire the risk takers, the people who go against the grain, the game changers that the old Apple computer ad celebrated.

I’ve known a few and I work with one—Carl DeSantis– who bet big on vitamins and won and bet big on Celsius the beverage and won again. Let’s just say, he’s a human thrill ride and I mean that in a good way, because through it all he has remained humble, down to earth, kind and generous to everyone he comes across.

My friend Carl has a favorite painting of sunflowers. The painting depicts a sea of sunflowers facing in the same direction but there’s one stray facing the other way.
“That’s me,” he told me.

Yes, it is.

Bless the souls that think differently. They make a dent in the world. They make magic.

The final idea I wanted to share came from an essay I saw in the New York Times. The writer, Lydia Polgreen, just lost her dad at 73. She talks about our need as humans to have an anchor, to know what’s next. But life is uncertain and that makes us vulnerable. We live in rough seas.

Turn on the news and you’ll hear about heinous crimes, the threat of nuclear war, the ravages of a hurricane, the doomsday scenarios surrounding climate change. We have high inflation, divisive politics, institutions we no longer trust and different sets of “facts” depending on where we sit on the political spectrum.

“But to tolerate uncertainty,” Ms. Polgreen writes. “Is to become buoyant, able to bob in the waves, no matter the tide.”

Polgreen continues: “You have to be incredibly vulnerable to admit that you think the world can be better, to believe that what you do could actually make some kind of change. We live in a time dominated by pessimism and cynicism. These poses are a kind of armor against the vulnerability of hope. To be cynical is to close the door to the possibility of disappointment. To be pessimistic is to foreclose the risk of being made a fool by optimism.”

The vulnerability of hope….

Think about that phrase for a moment. I can’t stop thinking about those words.

I believe most of us are naturally attracted to the dreamers and the optimists in our world. I know I am.

My favorite words are love and aspiration.

In a world where we don’t have to travel too far to see, feel and witness the destructive power of hate we must somehow find, teach, and spread love.

And in a world where every idea seems to be met with resistance, cynicism, and snark we must find a way to aspire.

Aspire or expire…that’s what I say.

24 October, 2022 10 10 Comments

It’s All About Soul

October 24, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 10 Comments

There’s a darkness in the center of town.

It’s been said that placemaking done right builds on “the soul” of a place.

I like that sentiment.

Too often, we think of placemaking as construction when it’s really about storytelling.

I believe that every place has a story to tell and that our job as citizens is to honor that story.

If we do, we will be good stewards of our communities and we will make sure that change—which is inevitable—will be authentic and feel good. But if we don’t, we will lose our soul and the essence of what makes a place special.

Losing what’s special about a place, doesn’t happen overnight, but it will happen. If we keep pulling threads, eventually the garment falls apart.

I believe that good design helps build great places, but that’s only one piece of the puzzle.

The other part—the most important part— is the people equation.

A great place must be “people friendly.” It must be warm and inviting and above all it must be respectful of its past, mindful of its present and always thinking about the future.

Those thoughts hit me when I drive past a still vacant Old School Square on my way to work in the morning.

To me, those beautiful buildings—once bustling with activity—seem sad and lonely. The Crest Theatre, home to so many magical performances over the years, is now an abandoned construction site. The classrooms once the home of art and photography classes are empty. The newly renovated Cornell Museum has had its walls stripped of art.

It didn’t have to be this way, but that’s a whole other story.

Meanwhile, The Downtown Development Authority is poised to come in and pump some life into the grounds and I have no doubt that if given ample resources, they will.

But as good as that agency is—and I’ve been a supporter over the years—I don’t think it will be easy to replace the soul of Old School Square. And as Billy Joel sings: “it’s all about soul.”

Old School Square’s soul was embodied by the special people who gave their time, passion, love, and hard-earned money to that place on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton for 32 years before the City Commission on a 3-2 vote kicked them to the curb. The public had no opportunity to weigh in before the vote, because the item to terminate the lease was never on an agenda.

But I suspect, based on the thousands of people who signed a petition to reverse the decision, that the community would have asked the commission to stop. Sadly, that never happened.

For 14 long months, there have been clumsy efforts to replace the non-profit that created Old School Square. But that’s not proving to be so easy. And I know why: you can’t dial up soul.

You can’t issue an RFP and ask a group to bring love and passion as well as operating chops and tons of money. That’s what we’ve lost–love, passion and 80 percent of a $3 million operating budget. And it’s not a one time loss. It will be felt every year until you find a way to bring the soul back to what was Delray’s signature civic project.

Into that vacuum, comes the DDA. They are taking on a difficult and expensive assignment.

Again, I support the agency. When I was an elected official, and the downtown was humming, I would get occasional calls from citizens who wanted to disband the taxing authority.

“We don’t need the DDA anymore,” they would declare. “The downtown is busy. Their job is done.”

I would disagree, because the first rule of success in life, business, cities, and downtowns is this: you are never done.

Complacency is a killer.

Just when you think you’ve got it made, life will remind you that you don’t.

So, for the record, I hope the DDA succeeds.

But I will always believe that the Commission’s decision to terminate Old School Square, the very creators of the concept, was a tragically bad one. Costly in so many ways and while the politicians mercifully come and go, you the taxpayer will be saddled with those costs for years to come.

The biggest cost is the people who were thrown to the curb. They were awfully good folks—as good as it gets. Contributors who were generous and passionate about their town who were, in the end, told to get lost. People who ought to know better but don’t are lying about them and when they do they reveal who they really are.

That’s tragic and hurtful. And it matters. More than dollars and cents.

My friends, it’s the people who provide the magic.

It’s the people who provide the soul of a place.

People and only people can animate a brand, a community, a non-profit, a neighborhood.

So, it’s not about plugging in another entity or designing a great looking space. Of course, the entity is important and the space as is well, but it’s who comes/volunteers (and stays) at the table and who replaces them when they move on that matters most.

There was a time when our city government had multiple “connection” or entry points. There were Citizen Police Academies, there were Resident Academies, a Youth Council and more charrettes and more visioning exercises than you could count.

Old School Square was the heart and soul of those efforts to connect us.

It was a place to gather and celebrate our history, discuss our present and plan our future.

Old School Square was the physical and spiritual embodiment of our community. And it was wiped out without notice, forethought, or empathy.

I would be the last person to argue that what we lost was perfect. But Old School Square was good and there were times when it was great.

And that’s why you work to make it better. You don’t throw it away. You don’t kick it to the curb and then flail around asking the Boca Museum to help you (think about that for a moment, call on a Boca institution to run our community’s cultural center? Come on, folks) before resting on the DDA.

The DDA has promised to enlist volunteers and engage stakeholders as they embark on this new task. They are even suggesting the creation of a non-profit so they can solicit donations. Hmm….sounds familiar. It sounds like Old School Square.

All that is fine, but I also hope they take some time to heal some deep wounds. Reach out to some of the people who loved Old School Square. Reach out to the woman who gave it life: Frances Bourque.

I know that won’t be a popular move with some of the powers that be. So what? It’s the right thing to do.

A warm gesture would be good for the soul.

And what’s good for the soul is good for the town.

17 October, 2022 22 22 Comments

True Love Stories Never Have Endings

October 17, 2022 By Jeff Perlman 22 Comments

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

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

But first some context.

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

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

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

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

Parkinson’s is a progressive disease.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Always hopeful that we can write our own story….

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

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

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

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

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