10 January, 2022 6 6 Comments

A Look Back Could Be A Map Forward

January 10, 2022 By 6 Comments

Joe Gillie leading the All America City effort in 1993.

Over the holidays, we spent some time in the 1990s.

We took the trip back through home movies. It was quite an experience.

This is not a usual “thing” for us, but my ex-wife was in town for Christmas, and she gave us all flash drives filled with memories. It was a wonderful gift and deeply appreciated.

We got to “visit” with relatives since departed and hear voices that we miss so much that our hearts literally ache.

We got to see our children when they were little. It was great.

We were reminded once again of how fast life flies by. The home movie experience makes you nostalgic for what seemed like a simpler time.

It’s the everyday stuff that tugs on your heart; seeing your son dig into his first birthday cake (with his hands). Seeing your now grown daughter hugging a long departed beloved pet. Savor these fleeting scenes….they drift into the mist as the days pass by.

As a new year begins, I think that’s a good message to hold onto. Cherish the good stuff. Hold onto hope in this crazy world.

The home movie binge led us an old video of Delray’s 1993 All America City Award win in Tampa.

It was the city’s first win and the victory put Delray on the map nationally. But more importantly, the All America City designation gave the many citizens who were working to build this community the validation that they were on the right track.

A distinguished group of judges—people who knew cities and asked tough questions—took a look at what Delray was doing and gave the city an enthusiastic thumbs up.

My wife, Diane, then the city’s assistant planning director, filmed the event and we think it may be the only video that exists. We’re not sure why, but I guess nobody thought of filming the event.

Viewed today, almost 30 years later, it’s clear that what happened in Tampa was important local history and I think it ought to be required viewing for anyone interested in what it takes to build community and instill civic pride.

Now as good an urban planner as my wife was, she was not exactly an auteur behind the lens. Scorcese she is not. (Sorry, Diane).

Still, she managed to capture the spirit of this community circa 1993 and that spirit was awe-inspiring.

A few things jump out.

—City government was close to its residents.

Neighborhood leaders and the city partnered on a wide range of projects. The Police Department, under the leadership of Chief Rick Overman, was taking community policing to new heights working closely with the grass roots group MAD DADS to take back entire neighborhoods from drug dealers. That effort became legendary, but the video also reveals how integrated the efforts were with the rest of city government. The Community Improvement Department, led by Lula Butler, worked hand in hand with the Planning Department and other city departments to move the needle on blight, crime, and quality of life issues. In those days, everything seemed to be interlocked and when people, systems and organizations are rowing in the same direction you can move mountains. And Delray did.

–There was a laser focus on schools.

When one of the All America City judges asked a tough question about local schools, up came School Board member Bill Graham to testify to the city’s close partnership with the School District. Pretty cool. Delray was a model for other cities on how to partner with the School Board to make meaningful change and they did with new schools (Village Academy), award winning programs (S.D. Spady’s Montessori magnet) and improved facilities (a new Atlantic High School which was built about a decade after the ‘93 All America City Award).

—There was extraordinary camaraderie among citizens.

My favorite parts of the video footage is to see Delray’s diverse community interacting in candid moments. Old and young, Black and white, east and west—there was a real closeness and ease that was evident in those days. Everyone was on board with a common vision. They all shared the same North Star and that’s magical to witness.

I, for one, took that part for granted. Delray was built on vision. Public engagement and involvement was what crafted that vision.

We have gotten away from that and it has caused all sorts of problems.

But in 1993, the community was unified behind Visions 2000 and the Decade of Excellence bond which provided the financing for all sorts of public investments. The citizens backed those efforts because they created the vision and then voted overwhelmingly to fund it.

Those investments yielded an immense return. For the life of me, I will never understand why recent commissions haven’t taken advantage of historically low interest rates (and record tax revenues to satisfy debt) to invest in our infrastructure which is aging and in need of repair.

There’s one more factor that hit me as the camera scanned the crowd and I saw the likes of Frances Bourque, Ken Ellingsworth, Dave Harden, Chris Brown, Tom Fleming, David Kovacs, Robin Smith, Deborah Dowd, Chuck Ridley, Spencer Pompey, Ruth Pompey, Tom Lynch, Jay Alperin, David Kovacs, Helen Coopersmith, Sandra Almy, Ben Bryant, Bob Currie, Dorothy Ellington, Leo Erbstein, Dave Henninger, Mike Weiner, Frank McKinney, Sandy Simon, John Tallentire, Bill Wood and so many others.

These were some really, really special people. The kind of people who move mountains.

All these folks were very different, but they were united in their love for this city, and they gave  their time, talents and treasure to Delray Beach.

I have no doubt that we still have some amazing talent and passion in our city. I see it every day.

But in my opinion our city government is no longer doing the outreach to get people involved. So many people feel adrift as a result.

And it can’t all be blamed on Covid. This drift has been going on long before we heard the word.

We are suffering from a lack of leadership and vision—that’s fatal my friends. Fatal, with a capital F. And if it doesn’t change, you can use that letter to describe what we will be.

We long ago ditched the Town Hall meeting, charrettes and visioning sessions. Now our chances to engage with the city are few and far between and some people have been cancelled because they don’t support the current regime. (see Square, Old School for a prime example).

This isn’t a healthy or productive way to run a city. And the evidence is everywhere (See, turnover and lawsuits for example).

There is a better way.

Sometimes you should look to the past for clues. It is no longer than the 90s. That’s clear. The world has changed.

But some basics never grow old. Kindness, friendship, outreach, engagement and a sincere desire to enlist the community to tackle its challenges will never go out of style. That’s what made us an All America City when that really meant something.

I’ve long ago given up on a few elected officials. Thanks to term limits they will all go some day. But we have a new City Manager. I think he’s the ninth or 50th since Dave Harden retired, I forget which because it has been dizzying to watch. But maybe this one will stick around.

If he’s willing, he ought to spend 20 minutes or so watching the video from 1993. He might get a glimpse of a town that was really working back in those days. He might just learn something.

Email me Mr. Moore. I will make sure you get a copy. I will even find someone who understands what it takes to build community to sit with you (at a respectful social distance of course) and narrate.  I suspect  you are getting a very one-sided view of what Delray is like.  Perhaps you should balance that out.

There are still a few icons from that era who I’m sure would be happy to help you.

 

 

3 January, 2022 10 10 Comments

For Randy….

January 3, 2022 By 10 Comments

Randy 2003-2021

“And in the end

The love you take

Is equal to the love you make”—John Lennon/Paul McCartney

 

Happy New Year!

Can you believe it’s 2022?

So where did we leave off?

Who knows, let’s start fresh shall we?

But first, I have something I need to share. It helps me to write, so thanks for the indulgence.

Just before Christmas, we lost our little dog Randy.

He was almost 19 years old. He was ready, even if we weren’t.

Are we ever ready to say goodbye to someone we love?

But before I tell you a little more about my friend, I want to share this insight about having dogs—mostly rescues—for the past 50 years. They have their priorities straight: sleep, play, eat, love. Repeat.

Throw in the magic of car rides with the wind blowing your hair, sniffing everything, and curling up on a blanket and you have the makings of a great life.

Those of us who love dogs,  think that they don’t live long enough, and they don’t. We should have them much longer. But if we are on this Earth to learn a lesson, it sort of makes sense that dogs don’t have to stay as long because they already know how to live and how to love.

They know that life is about love. They know that love is all you need.

We got Randy when he was about two years old in 2005 at the Delray Affair.

Diane knew about the Animal Rescue Force (ARF), a wonderful non-profit that rescues dogs and cats.

She and my daughter decided to check out the ARF booth at the Delray Affair and they were drawn to Randy, a skinny little Chihuahua mix with huge eyes and a fiery disposition. Randy weighed about 10 pounds at the time, but he carried himself as if he were a lion. He had a presence about him. He was adorable.

When they brought him home, his first two welcoming moves were to bite me and pee all over the house.

We figured it would be all uphill from that auspicious beginning.

Our golden retriever rescue, Casey, was an easy sell. They became instant friends. Casey would even “walk” Randy on the leash. Neighbors couldn’t believe their eyes. Randy was in on the joke. He was a leader, but he knew the best leaders empower their buddies.

As for Randy, he was only warming up in terms of “redecorating” our home.

Carpeting, rugs, and blinds were immediately targeted for destruction. He spent a lot of his time patrolling the back door looking out at the lake and protecting us from squirrels, iguanas, ducks, and birds. When wildlife appeared (or sometimes he would just pretend to see something that wasn’t there) he would slam his little body against the glass, grab hold of a blind or a rug and shake them furiously. He was ferocious and more than a little crazy. The golden would look at us as if to say: “you’re taking him back, right?”

She was kidding, of course. He wouldn’t be going anywhere for a long, long, long time.

In time, Randy mellowed a little bit and channeled his energy into more productive pursuits. My brother-in-law Paul called him “Mr. Cardio” because when you walked him, he would triple his steps walking out front—all the way to the right and all the way to the left—his little legs moving like powerful pistons always on patrol for adventure.

His outings to the dog park were challenging because he was there for—-how do we say this politely? He was there for the action.

So, we took him other places—car rides where he would hang his head out of the window and urge us to drive through puddles because he loved the splashing water. Our daughter, Sam, took him to Starbucks regularly and he enjoyed pup cups at Boardwalk ice cream in Boynton Beach and Kilwin’s on the Avenue.

A Delray dog through and through, he attended the Easter Bonnet Parade, Chihuahua races at the Cinco De Mayo Festival and loved Lake Ida Park and walking by the Delray Playhouse where he marveled at the wave runners. And he made tons of friends, two-legged and four legged too. There was the postman who would come every day and invite Randy onto his truck for a treat and a scratch. There were Kim and Rebecca who were extra nice to him and Bella Liguori, a big black lab who would knock on the back door every night come in, eat Randy’s food and leave.

As cool and as handsome as Randy was….well he too, had his issues with women. It made him even more endearing in my eyes.

When Casey passed, he welcomed Sophie into our home. A fellow Chihuahua rescue from the streets of Miami, Sophie was a tough little girl. Randy loved her.

When Sophie passed, we welcomed another golden, a rescue named Teddy into our home. This was a match made in heaven. Those two were so good together. Randy the feisty veteran, Teddy the sweet innocent big lug with a giant heart. When “things” happened in the house, Teddy would be ashamed. Randy would walk past the mess as if to say: “this is on you guys, you shouldn’t have trusted us.”

When Teddy passed, Randy mourned.

And he got old.

For the longest time, he seemed to defy the calendar. He never really got gray, but his once bright mischievous eyes got terribly cloudy and there was nothing doctors could do.

For me, that was the saddest part of all. I loved Randy’s big expressive eyes. Suddenly, the light that was in his eyes went away. And that created an ache in my heart.

Being the resilient dog that he was, Randy learned to navigate the house without his eyesight. He avoided the angles of the kitchen but otherwise got along very well. Another lesson we can learn from dogs: they adjust, they adapt, they don’t complain they keep going on until they can’t no more.

For Randy, that day came on December 22.

We knew it was coming.

When we decided to get Gracie, our new golden puppy, we never thought Randy would be around to meet her. But he was. And he took one last Christmas picture dressed up next to a willful puppy who knew enough to be gentle around her senior brother.

All of the kids, except for Viktor, were home for the holidays and to say goodbye.

Jim Grubb, the world’s best and kindest vet, was here to ease Randy into the next world. I sure hope the Rainbow Bridge is a real thing. I think we all do.

Over the holiday break, I often found myself staring off into the corners of the house to Randy’s favorite spots. I would look to the spot where Randy would catch the sun, glance at where he would patrol and tear up a little when I looked at where he would curl up and sleep so peacefully. I looked at old photos of his big dark eyes and found myself aching for that little ball of energy.

He was the constant in our house—even the kids grew up and went away as they should. But there was always Randy; hopping  into our laps, sitting at the table when nobody was looking and always alert —hanging on our every word.

Diane and I, the kids and so many others loved him, I think that’s why he stayed around for almost 19 years. Our love sustained him, and his love sustained us.

That’s how it’s supposed to be. As it’s meant to be….

Until we meet again Randy.

I know, if it’s at all possible, you will be there waiting for us.

 

22 December, 2021 0 Comments

In Search of Hope & Joy

December 22, 2021 By Leave a Comment

“Stay gentle, keep the eyes of a child

Don’t harden your heart or your hands

Know to find joy in the darkness is wise

Although they will think you don’t understand

Don’t let the world make you callous

Be ready to laugh

No one’s forgotten about us

There is light on your path

—“Stay Gentle” lyrics by Brandi Carlile

 

This will be my last post for 2021.

I want to wish you all a happy, safe, and joyous Christmas and New Year and I want to thank you for reading. I’m grateful for your time and attention every Monday (and sometimes Wednesdays).

This column is a labor of love and something that I look forward to every week.

I cherish your feedback and take it all to heart.

As we wrap up 2021, I find myself thinking about the twin concepts of hope and joy.

Those words were planted in my brain by none other than Stevie Van Zandt, guitarist for the E Street Band, and the guy who played Silvio on The Sopranos.

I just finished Mr. Zan Vandt’s awesome autobiography “Unrequited Infatuations” which has become a surprise best seller. The book is terrific, and I love the title because it summarizes the experiences of most guys I know. Sigh.

Littler Steven is a member of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, consigliere to Bruce Springsteen and a political activist who played a prominent role in the dismantling of apartheid in South Africa. He’s also quietly been at the forefront of everything from satellite radio and Netflix’s international expansion to the resurgence of arts education through his “Teach Rocks” foundation and curriculum.

He seems like a cool guy and is certainly a larger-than-life figure hanging out with the likes of Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, James Gandolfini and Little Richard. Now that’s a dinner party!

A minor but recurring theme of the book is the notion that we, as a society and as a nation, have lost our sense of hope and joy.
Stevie feels that those words were a common thread behind the spirit of the 1960s, but somewhere along the way we lost our mojo.

There’s no joy in Mudville as they say. Little hope that the world we inhabit will get better.

The 60s were a turbulent era—war, assassinations, street protests, struggles for civil and equal rights. But despite the chaos, Mr. Van Zandt says there was joy and hope in our music, in our culture and even in our politics. There was a sense that we were working toward a more perfect union.

I’ve been thinking about these heavy topics amidst the turbulence and division of 2021.

We’ve lost 800,000 plus Americans to Covid; but instead of this threat binding us together; the virus has driven us apart—physically, spiritually and politically.

We hold elections and a great many no longer trust the results.

Faith in our institutions—government, courts, media, schools, universities, the financial system and businesses are suffering according to public opinion surveys. Attendance at religious services— in person and on-line— is dropping.

It’s a scary time of public health crises, inflation, climate change and spasms of gun violence.

We fear and loathe those who do not think like us.

Right here at home, we end the year with arguably our greatest civic icon, Frances Bourque, embroiled in a lawsuit pitting Old School Square against the City of Delray Beach. Think about that for a moment. It’s just a big, loud (and sad) wow.

Which begs the question; is there still room for joy? Is there space for hope to take root in such a climate?

I believe there is.

I have no evidence to support my feelings. No magic formula that says things will get better other than faith.

I still have faith.

It may be misplaced, it may be delusional, but I still harbor a belief that before we sink further our better angels will wake up and save the day.

As Mets fans used to say: “Ya Gotta Believe”.

Reknitting our torn social fabric is the leadership challenge of a lifetime. The stakes could not be higher. I believe the survival of American Democracy is at stake and because we remain a beacon for the world, if we fail, there will be grave global implications. The world needs America. And we need her too.

So, what should we do?
Well, we need to re-establish the existence of objective facts. That won’t be easy but if half of our population says today is Monday and the other says Tuesday, where does that get us?

If half the nation wants to try and address climate change but the other half doesn’t– what happens to our world if the overwhelming majority of scientists are correct and we are indeed experiencing an existential crisis affecting every corner of our globe?

If we hold elections and half the country doesn’t trust their basic integrity how do we function as a Democracy?

And if we lose faith in our courts and large swaths of our nation decides to ignore rulings where does that leave the rule of law, the basic building block of a civilized society?

I don’t know the answers or even where to begin, yet I remain full of hope that we can somehow find a way forward.

It seems to be that most people I interact with—on both sides of the aisle—are pretty miserable these days, especially at the state of our politics—on all levels federal, state and local.

There’s no joy and where’s there no joy hope wanes.

As someone who believes in the power of community, I believe the answers start right here at home.

We can resolve to be kinder to each other. We can resolve to talk more and shout less. We can resolve to listen to those who are disaffected.

We can make it a point to confront bullies and not cede them the public square.

We can resolve to respect each other, to listen and to be stewards instead of bulldozers.

We can summon the courage to stand up and be counted— in a respectful way of course. We can stop pretending that we can’t be found when our friends ask us to stand up for what’s right.

We can show up and speak truth to power even if that truth may hurt our interests in the short term. It’s called doing the right thing.

We can react or we can respond.

From Seth Godin: “When we react to a medicine, that’s a bad thing. When we respond, it’s working.”

We can throw a tantrum or we can respond—with something that works. With an approach we’re proud of, proud of even after the moment has passed. It’s not easy, it’s often not fun, but it’s the professional’s choice.

It’s also the citizen’s choice. We need to become citizens again.

We can save our communities. We have the power to do so.

It starts with kindness and empathy and ends with joy and hope.

Joy keeps us going. So does hope. Right now, we have to keep moving forward even when we feel tired and want to chuck it all. Especially when we are tired. We must never ever give up.

Wishing you a wonderful holiday season and a safe New Year.

I’ll leave with part of a  poem called “One Today”  that I recently discovered. It’s by Richard Blanco.

“We head home: through the gloss of rain or weight

of snow, or the plum blush of dusk, but always—home,

always under one sky, our sky. And always one moon

like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop

and every window, of one country—all of us—

facing the stars

hope—a new constellation

waiting for us to map it,

waiting for us to name it—together.”

 

 

 

20 December, 2021 13 13 Comments

The Ties That Happily Bind

December 20, 2021 By 13 Comments

Retired Delray Beach Police Officer Chuck Jeroloman.

Every year, around Christmastime, I get a text from a retired Delray Beach detective.

“It’s time to meet for dinner at Arturo’s Restaurant in Boca Raton.”

And every year, 5 to 7 of us, retired cops, a retired businessman and one washed-up politician (me) get together to catch up. They even let one retired firefighter attend. That’s a big concession for a police officer to make, but in the spirit of the season the invite is issued and usually accepted.

I look forward to this dinner.

In the hustle and bustle of the holiday season, this event stands out for its warmth, its meaning and just the genuine feeling of camaraderie you get when you sit with old friends.

Even though we don’t see each other much, time just melts away when you are with certain people and you fall right back into the comfort of a good friendship.

I really admire and in some ways, I am envious of police officers and firefighters. They share a bond that unites them in a very special way.

To be sure, I’ve been blessed with some really special work and office friendships too. But there’s something different about cops and firefighters. It’s a next level connection.

Working in a newsroom, alongside talented writers, editors and photographers was a gift that I will always miss and remember fondly. My current office culture is special too. I’ve worked with incredible people and I am deeply appreciative of that experience and worry about what others who work remotely are missing.

Yes, I know it’s safer and convenient to work from home. It’s liberating as well because you can live anywhere that has an internet connection. But….

But you don’t get the closeness and the magic of what it’s like to see and interact with people every day.

But as special as my work environments have been—the richness and the bonds between police officers and firefighters is something else entirely. They refer to each other as brothers and sisters and they mean it.

When they lose a brother and a sister, they feel it deep in their souls because they shared so many adventures and stories.

As an old crime reporter, I know not all is bliss. There are cliques, divisions, politics and jealousies in police and fire departments. Combined with the stressful nature of the job, the dangers, the responsibility for life and property etc., you can see why many of the retirees are happy to be doing other things after long careers working long shifts. But…

They do miss it.

And oh, the stories they can tell.

I got to be very close with a generation of police officers and firefighters in Delray Beach. These men and women are remarkable.

Some of the newcomers to our community may not know that Delray was a rough place in the 80s and into the 90s too. Some neighborhoods were open air drug markets and there was a lot of drugs, guns and violence.

Remarkably, I was given carte balance to ride along with detectives, fugitive task forces, field training officers and the well-known and much respected “jump out” crews who tackled street level drug sales day and night.

I was a reporter in those days, and I kept crazy hours—riding in the back seat of police cruisers all night and ending with breakfast at a long gone IHOP on North Federal Highway before rushing back to the newsroom to write it all down before I forgot what happened. Over time, the officers I rode with began to trust me.

I strived to be accurate in my reporting. I tried to convey to readers what was happening on the streets of Delray through the eyes of the men and women tasked with serving and protecting us.

When fights broke out—and they did often—the always outnumbered cops waded into the fray. When someone got hurt, the paramedics were called in and were often pummeled with rocks too.

Delray was a long way from the posh, hip and trendy location it has become today. Commissioners didn’t have the luxury of arguing over sea grapes back then. In those days, it was about whether the city would ever turn it around.

I credit our public safety departments with making Delray safe for investment. They are the unsung heroes of Delray’s revitalization because if you don’t feel safe you can’t build community, you can’t attract residents, businesses, and tourists. You have nothing without public safety. Nothing.

So when I see gadflies whining about the costs of these departments I shrug. They just don’t know. Providing top-notch police and fire services is expensive. But it’s more expensive not to do so.

When I was elected to the City Commission in 2000, that was the one subject I felt very secure of  in terms of my knowledge. These officers, detectives, firefighters and paramedics took me to school, and I knew that my job as an elected official was to support their efforts which were bearing fruit. Crime rates went down. The relationship between officers and the community improved; trust was built through a deep and sincere commitment to community-oriented policing. On the fire side, insurance rates went down and we heard story after story of lives being saved because of the efforts of our paramedics.

During this era, Delray Police and Fire  built a robust volunteer network with citizens rolling up their sleeves to make our community safer.

It worked.

It all worked.

Along the way, I became friendly with that detective who organizes the annual Christmas dinner. His name is Chuck Jeroloman. We had New York roots and a mutual passion for baseball in common and we became quick friends.

I first met Chuck when he was on that jump out crew, known officially as the Tact Team. He was a big, strong, charismatic guy—kind of larger than life. But his biggest strength was his relationship skills. He knew how to connect with people.

He became a detective, an expert in Crime Prevention Through Environmental Design, a union leader and later a very knowledgeable and effective member of the Police and Fire Pension Board. He also served on the SWAT team and  was involved in the department’s anti-terrorism efforts post 9/11. He spent 28 years in law enforcement, 23 of those years serving our city.

Chuck loved Delray and he was always quick to share what he had learned at a conference or through hard won experience.  He also has a great sense of humor in a job where that comes in handy.

When he retired, he moved to Alabama but got a job with a law firm that advises police and fire pension funds. He has been doing that job for a long time now building relationships throughout the country with clients.

He’s going to retire from that position in the New Year to spend time with family. That makes me happy. Despite his latest transition, we are resolved to keeping this dinner an annual tradition.

This year, Chuck brought his son, Brian, to the dinner. And a new generation was introduced to the great stories and warehouse of knowledge that exists when you sit with men like Tom Judge (Delray PD retired) and Perry Don Francisco (former owner of Boston’s on the Beach and co-founder of Delray Citizens for Delray Police.)

Brian is a former UF baseball star who played 11 seasons of professional baseball for the likes of the Nationals, Blue Jays and Pirates. He currently scouts for the Yankees. He has some amazing stories himself and so the circle continues.

The next morning, still flying high from our great dinner conversation, I got a text from another Delray retiree.

“Hey,” I wrote back. “I had dinner with Chuck and TJ last night.”

“Oh man, I love those guys,” my friend wrote back. “Chuck’s wife delivered all of my children (she’s a nurse).”

That’s a link I didn’t know about. Another tie that bonds these people together.

In the history of Delray, there are a lot of men and women who have worked for our city that have quietly done an amazing job to advance this community in ways large and small.

They don’t get a whole lot of recognition, but they are all vitally important.

They are all a big part of the tapestry that makes this a place we can call home.

Many of these people move on after serving—but their hearts remain here alongside their life’s work.

I feel such a debt to these people. I treasure them.

They are invaluable.

They are cherished by those of  us who know what it takes to build something special.

13 December, 2021 14 14 Comments

8 Mayors: We Can Do Better

December 13, 2021 By 14 Comments

The recently renovated Cornell Museum features a new exhibit that celebrates OSS’ contributions to Delray Beach.

Last week, eight former mayors signed a letter in support of Old School Square.It was an extraordinary gesture. I don’t think we’ve ever seen this level of solidarity among every living former elected mayor.The eight mayors—Doak Campbell, Tom Lynch, Jay Alperin, David Schmidt, me, Rita Ellis, Woodie McDuffie and Cary Glickstein represent 33 years of service. Some have lived in Delray for 50,  60 and 70 plus years. I may be the newcomer with almost 35 years in town.We’ve seen a lot.We’ve all worked with Old School Square which has been serving Delray for 32 years.Our call to action is simple: we’d like to see the public have input into the future of Old School Square and we’d like to see a discussion/process on how to heal some of the divisions and hurts caused by our current political environment, a culture that we all feel threatens our present and our future.Old School Square is a casualty of this environment. It’s lease was terminated without notice, cause, public input or even an agenda item that may have notified it’s many supporters.Given no choice, the non-profit was forced to litigate the very city it has served. It was either sue or walk away from three decades of service and millions of dollars in assets.What’s next is costly litigation for the organization and taxpayers. There’s a better way.Here’s the letter.  It calls for our better angels to prevail. In this holiday season, it may be the best gift we can give our community.

An open letter to the citizens and stakeholders of Delray Beach:
We are a group of former mayors whose service to Delray dates to 1984.
Some of us have lived here for 60 plus years.
We love our city, but we are worried about the direction the current administration is taking.
We find our community is divided, unable or unwilling to talk and we fear that the progress we have made as a community is in danger as a result.
The most recent issue is the impulsive termination of the lease with Old School Square Center for the Arts, Inc., the non-profit organization who created and has successfully managed Old School Square for the past 32 years, without a conversation with the organization or input from the City’s diverse stakeholders who deserve a say in its future. All of us have worked closely with the dedicated volunteers at Old School Square during our terms. We believe that they are willing to work hard to improve their partnership with the city. As with any long-term relationship, we believe that any problems can be solved with open communication.
This decision to terminate Old School Square’s lease has proven to be highly controversial, but we are just as alarmed at the lack of transparency and due process when making such a monumental decision.
We must do better.
Delray has a rich history of citizen involvement. That involvement has been a key factor in our success.
But while the Old School Square termination is what’s on everyone’s mind, we see a similar pattern in the general culture of division and polarization in our city politics that has led to costly turnover and litigation.
We don’t believe this is the “Delray Way,” and while we may not ever see eye to eye on the issues, we risk losing what’s been built if we don’t call a time out and endeavor to do better as a community.
As former mayors, we understand the difficulty in leading a city as active and complex as Delray Beach.
We stand ready to assist and suggest the following:
• A charrette to gain public input on the future of Old School Square.
• A process to discuss the culture in Delray Beach so that we can find a better way forward for everyone.
We need to reverse the damage and hurt that has occurred in our town before it is too late.
Sincerely,
Mayor Doak S. Campbell III (1984-1990)
Mayor Thomas E. Lynch (1990-1996)
Mayor Dr. Jay Alperin (1996-2000)
Mayor David W. Schmidt (2000-2003)
Mayor Jeff Perlman (2003-2007)
Mayor Rita Ellis (2007-2009)
Mayor Nelson “Woodie” McDuffie (2009-2013)
Mayor Cary Glickstein (2013-2017)
6 December, 2021 2 2 Comments

Get Back Is A Joy

December 6, 2021 By 2 Comments

The iconic rooftop concert caps the documentary Get Back.

For me, and I suspect millions of others, it was a Beatles themed Thanksgiving weekend.

We watched the Peter Jackson film “Get Back” on Disney Plus and were swept away by hours of footage of John, Paul, George and Ringo (and the great Billy Preston) working to craft the album that would become “Let it Be.”

As a lifelong Beatles fan, the documentary was a total joy— although I’m not sure the casual fan can brave the 8- hour length— but if you manage to hang in, the rewards are plentiful.

The Beatles have become so iconic that we sometimes forget that they were once a working band, consisting of real people doing real things—acting goofy, cursing, arguing, laughing—and oh yes making sublime music that still sounds amazing more than 50 years later.

Last week, also marked the 20th anniversary of the death of George Harrison and I found myself mourning his loss again while watching the documentary. George was blossoming in 1969…brimming with song ideas and chafing at the constraints of being a songwriter forced to compete with the juggernaut of Lennon and McCartney.

Watching the documentary, you see the depth of the friendships between the four Beatles—the easy camaraderie, the sheer joy they found playing together. It’s really a beautiful thing to watch and does change the conventional wisdom about their break-up.

The documentary exonerates Yoko, but also hints that the lads are growing apart and life will take them in separate directions.

Are there signs of friction and impending doom?
Sure, in hindsight.

In part 1, George quits the band briefly but is talked out of it when the other three visit with him.

When he returns, you see how quickly they fall back into old patterns of warmth, humor and amazing performances whenever the light turns red and the tape is rolling.

The best part of “Get Back” is to watch the creative process unfold and to see how collaborative the recording process is— at least for The Beatles. All four contribute ideas and you get to see how the classics came to be: “Let it Be”, “The Long and Winding Road”, “Two of Us” and a whole lot of songs that ended up on Abbey Road and George’s amazing solo album “All Things Must Pass.”

You also get to see how extraordinary the Beatles were: Paul is scary gifted, John is a remarkable singer with a sharp wit, George is an emerging songwriting talent and Ringo is the glue that keeps it all together. He’s as steady as his beat.

Local resident Max Weinberg, of E Street Band fame, has helped me appreciate Ringo as a drummer. Ringo is often given short shrift, but he had the best back beat in the business and his style served the songs. He was averse to drum solos but if you listen to his fills in song after song, you begin to realize just how important Ringo was to the band. The Beatles themselves acknowledged this saying that when Ringo joined the band “everything just clicked.” He is criminally underrated.

Of course, the best part of the film is the music. But another takeaway is the magic of real partnerships.

Even toward the end of their unprecedented run, the Beatles exhibited the best of what a true partnership can be: everyone working together in a spirit of mutual love, respect and admiration. Ideas are listened to and debated. It’s a creative environment in which good ideas become better with the input of others. It’s a reminder that when we sacrifice our egos and commit to a team dynamic, wonderful things happen. It’s a lesson for all of us.

The film leaves you with so many “ifs.”

What if they just committed to giving George more songs on future albums?

What if John had lived, would they have found their way back together?

But then again, you must be appreciative that we have what we have; hundreds of great songs, decades of memories and now this film—a document that fans of great music will return to again and again to see the masters at work.

 

29 November, 2021 0 Comments

Show A Little Love For SoFla

November 29, 2021 By Leave a Comment

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We have a lot of good stuff going on here.

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

 

 

22 November, 2021 8 8 Comments

Thanksgiving, Values & Love For A Place

November 22, 2021 By 8 Comments

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

I am so thankful for every one of you. I’m grateful that you read my weekly ramblings and especially grateful when you provide feedback and ideas for future blogs.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday because it celebrates gratitude which I believe is the key to happiness.

If you are grateful for what you have, you’ll find happiness. If you are constantly fixated on what you don’t have, well that’s a recipe for sadness and frustration. I hope you choose gratitude. And I hope you live in the moment, because each one is precious.

Thanksgiving consists of two words, thanks and giving.  We are called to give thanks and we are called to give to others.

So, as we sit down with friends and family this week, I’m thinking of the community leaders who have teamed up to provide Thanksgiving meals to the needy. I think of our first responders responding to emergency calls while we relax and watch football and I think of our amazing health care workers who save lives every day or ease the pain of those they can’t. They saved me…I am trying to make my second chance count.

And I’m grateful for the community that rallied to my side and comforted my family as I struggled with a virus that has claimed over 5 million lives worldwide.

While we have come a long way, we must remain vigilant. Covid-19 has claimed more lives in 2021 than in 2020. Prayers and the wonders of medical science saved me. I’m forever thankful.

This space is often dedicated to my take on our local slice of the world. Many times, that take can be critical. But as Moliere said: “the proof of true love is to be unsparing in criticism.” I agree, Monsieur, but I don’t want to be unsparing which is just another word for merciless. We need more mercy and forgiveness in this world, not less.

I write from a place of love, affection, belief, and encouragement.

I care about my community. And I believe we can do better. I hope my words encourage good people to get off the sidelines and get involved.

From my earliest memories, I have always abhorred bullies. I was not a victim of bullying as a child—I guess everyone has had an experience or two—but I witnessed bullying and it bothered me to my core.  I’ve always felt compelled to call it out. When you do, your nose gets bloodied from time to time. But something else also happens—many times when bullying is called out, it wanes.

Recently, I have witnessed a major case of bullying regarding Old School Square. OSS has responded to that bullying with a lawsuit. Sadly, the organization was given no choice. It was either fight for their reputation and their future or walk away from decades of devotion to Delray Beach.

As you know, the City Commission voted 3-2 to terminate the non-profit’s lease after 32 years of service to the community. The vote wasn’t on any agenda, there was no call from the public for action, there was no opportunity for the organization or public to weigh in on the decision and pleas for a workshop and dialogue were ignored. More than 10,000 people signed a petition in opposition to the decision and they were dismissed. There’s something fundamentally wrong with that.

It was the worst decision I’ve seen in nearly 35 years of following local politics and trust me that’s saying a lot. I believe the decision was personal, short-sighted and lacking in basic empathy. Those are the types of subjects I feel compelled to write about.

But I still love my town.

Let me repeat, I still love my town.

Even if I hate its politics.

Even if I abhor its bullies and the behind-the-scenes puppeteers who wreak a whole lot of havoc and offer nothing productive in return.

There’s a human cost to these machinations—people lose jobs and their families suffer as a result, nearby businesses lose revenue, volunteers feel disrespected, artists lose an important venue (for the time being anyway) and taxpayers pay for it all.

I write because I want to see a better town.

I believe in the power of words, narratives, and stories to change the world or at least our slice of it.

I also write to give thanks to my civic heroes and heroines…. the people who transformed this community and improved lives along the way.

I think it’s important to say thank you to those who give their time and their hearts to our hometown.

I feel if we don’t say thank you, or if we hurt these people, we will lose our sense of community.

That does not mean that we don’t have accountability or that we ignore problems. In fact, just the opposite. When problems arise, we need to double down on dialogue and work collectively to fix issues and seize opportunities. That is the call of leadership. As a leader, you are not responsible for the answers, but you are responsible for creating an environment in which you can find a way forward—together. Always, together.

I believe that gratitude should be a community value and ingratitude should be strongly opposed.

As we speak, I’m part of a small team that is forming a private foundation. You’ll learn more in the new year about our efforts.

The foundation we are creating will celebrate generosity, kindness, warmth, and empathy. It will give back to a community we love, and it will invest in great causes.

In building this new endeavor, we have reached out to foundation leaders throughout Florida.

One foundation executive talked about creating what he called the “city generous.”

It’s a big idea, one he acknowledges will be difficult to achieve. But it’s the big ideas that change our world. It’s the big ideas that animate us as human beings and inspire us to build community.

The revitalization of Delray was a big idea too.

It gave birth to a method of doing business some affectionately called the “Delray Way.” Others, especially in our African American community, called it the “covenant.” The covenant and the Delray Way were shorthand for what we value as a community: inclusiveness, civic engagement, community building, dialogue, civility, vision, execution, a fair and open process, and a willingness to confront our issues head on and work and learn together to improve our community.

I’m not saying it was ever achieved or that things were ever perfect, but there were lots of moments where those ideals were realized and that led to every significant achievement you can think of when you think about the things we love about our town.

Those ideals gave birth to Old School Square. The abandonment of those values threatens its future and ours as well.

I would argue that the way Old School Square has been treated is a rejection of the ideals that built this town. The way that decision was made poses an existential threat to what it means to live in a caring, generous, loving, respectful and empathetic community.

Yes, that’s a big statement. But I stand by it. I feel it with every fiber of my being.

So, if you love this town, we need you to suit up and pay attention. We need you to get involved, speak up and vote.

Because once it becomes personal; once decision making becomes about payback, the slope gets very slippery.

Municipal math is an unfair master. It can take 30 years to build something of value, but only a few months to undo it all, and there’s no guarantee you will ever get it back.

This Thanksgiving, I wish you peace, love, health and happiness. And I wish for us to get back to a place of looking forward not back, of healing not hurt, of love not malice. I’m hoping that next Thanksgiving we will be able to give thanks for a restoration of our civic  values and spirit.

 

 

15 November, 2021 6 6 Comments

In My Life…

November 15, 2021 By 6 Comments

StoryWorth is a wonderful gift.

Last Father’s Day, my kids teamed up and got me a truly great gift.

It’s called StoryWorth.

StoryWorth sends you a question every Monday morning that is designed to provoke thought and get you to write a short essay that is then emailed to your kids (or others) so they can learn more about your life.

It’s a great way to learn more about your mom, dad, grandparents etc.

The stories are saved to a website and then after a year you can create a keepsake book that contains all of the essays you’ve written. It’s ideal for me because I love to write. It’s also an easy way to write a book—one bite at a time.

I’ve been at this for a few months now and I find myself looking forward to Monday’s question. It’s a good way to get your brain started for the week.

Here’s a sampling of some of the questions I’ve answered:

Are you still friends with any of your classmates from grade school? (Yes, see last week’s blog)

Did you consider other careers?

Which fads did you embrace growing up?

What is one of the strangest things that has ever happened to you?

If you don’t like a question, you can simply ask for another one and StoryWorth delivers.

Last week’s question was one of my favorites: What have been some of your life’s greatest surprises?

The question resonated with me because I immediately thought of a line from the John Lennon song “Beautiful Boy” —“Life is what happens to you when you’re busy making other plans.”

How true.

And I started to think about how much of life is a surprise.

I never dreamt of living in Florida—surprise! I’ve been here since 1987.

I never thought I’d be mayor of a city—but surprise I was.

I never thought I’d with work with a world class entrepreneur, ring the bell at NASDAQ, work for a beverage company, own a newspaper (after leaving newspapers), be involved with real estate, work for a foundation, start a non-profit or survive a pandemic.

Life is a surprise. A wonderful, miraculous surprise.

I did plan a few things—marriage, children, a career in journalism, writing a book and someday owning a vacation home in New England. So, keep planning is my advice, but also be open to the twists and turns of life. That’s where the gold is often found.

I’m in the midst of writing a play (also a surprise) and in the play the song “Moon River” from the movie “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” plays a small but pivotal role.

Moon River is quite a  song.

It’s only about two minutes long but it’s about the river of life and the twists and turns you don’t see coming. It’s a poignant song. It’s also achingly beautiful.

Moon River helps you realize that life is unpredictable and that it would be wonderful if you could live multiple lives because each road you go down would be a different experience. When I went home to Stony Brook recently to visit with old friends, I thought about how different my life would have been if I had stayed or returned to live in my hometown.

But we are only given one life at a time, and we need to make choices.

A friend recently asked me if I had any regrets, and the truth is I just don’t think that way. I’ve made a boat load of mistakes, we all do, but I’ve learned from every one of them. I don’t regret those mistakes, I try not to repeat the same ones, but I appreciate the lessons they taught me. The stumbles, bumbles, bumps and bruises brought me to the place I am today and that’s a pretty good place. I’m thankful for it all.

I’m often asked by young people in politics and business for advice and while I enjoy sharing my experience, I’d rather talk about their aspirations. They are the future. I am the past. The past is important (and never really past as the saying goes), but the todays and tomorrows are more important.

I’ve come to realize that we are all on an individual path—a unique journey. I urge those I meet with to be conscious, intentional and appreciative of each step of the journey because life goes fast and these experiences—even the remarkable moments– are fleeting.

Young love grows into a mature relationship—if you’re lucky. The excitement of a new career dulls over time but also becomes richer in other ways once you learn the ropes.

I’ve been surprised by it all—in so many ways. In hindsight, I’ve loved every era— even the years of struggle because they made me a better, stronger person.

I feel for those who are not self-aware and those who cannot connect to others including their own selves. They are missing the best part of life—the surprises (and the planned stuff too).

Some dreams do come true. Yes, they do. And some stuff just happens and that’s wonderful too.

 

In memoriam

I woke up Thursday morning and learned that we had lost artist Peter Pereira.

Peter died unexpectedly at his Delray Beach home. We were texting recently when I was in New York and had planned to get together after Thanksgiving. I had been trying to help Peter find work.

He was a gifted artist and cartoonist who did a lot of work for the Delray Newspaper, of which I was an owner. He also served on the Public Art Advisory Board, an entity we created when I was on the City Commission. Peter was interested in the early days of the board, and we recently met in Boca to discuss his career and future aspirations.

He was a sweet man, a talented person and very supportive of others. He will be missed by everyone. His cartoons depicting life in Delray were truly unique.

We also mourn the loss of Jerry Hildebrand, a giant in the social entrepreneurship space who spent the past four years changing the lives of students at Lynn University where he ran the Social Impact Lab. I had the privilege of serving on his board. He taught me and others so much.

 

Lynn University President Kevin Ross reflected that Jerry “created a new generation of hands-on, solution-minded pragmatists that pioneered practical, inventive and sustainable approaches to addressing the world’s most pressing social issues. We will miss Jerry’s tenacity, ability to see the possible, and his will to make the world a better place.”

That sums it up. Jerry was a force of nature. I will treasure the times we spent together, especially our long lunches and breakfasts where he spoke passionately about the need to heal the world. By creating young ambassadors and dispatching them all over the globe, he left a legacy of service, caring and love. He was quite a guy and universally beloved.

 

 

Sometimes you miss…

About 10 years ago, a colleague Greg Horn, former CEO of GNC and a product creator with an early role in Celsius, took me to the Space Coast of Florida to meet a young, visionary entrepreneur named RJ Scaringe.

RJ was running a start-up called Avera Motors and was looking for investors. He had a doctorate from MIT and was passionate about disrupting the auto industry. I was very impressed and thought it might make sense to offer an investment and lure the company to Palm Beach County to create a new industry and high paying jobs.

I couldn’t make it happen.

Ugh.

Last week, RJ was back in the news when his company—now named Rivian—went public at a valuation of $91 billion. That’s billion with a B. It ended the week at well over $100 billion in value.

Investors included Jeff Bezos of Amazon and Ford Motor Company, who out maneuvered GM to gain a piece of the company worth probably $7-10 billion. Not bad.

Apparently, Amazon is going to buy a slew of Rivian’s electric truck fleet for deliveries. The company will make its trucks in Illinois.

RJ pivoted from a diesel hybrid power train to electric, showing that the great entrepreneurs are open to new ideas.
While I thought RJ’s original business plan was awesome, I was totally sold on his passion, vision, energy and smarts.

What a big miss…..but keep an eye on that company because it’s going places. And keep an eye out for the next disrupter too.

 

8 November, 2021 25 25 Comments

Old Friends Are Good For The Soul

November 8, 2021 By 25 Comments

Celebrating decades of friendship at Avalon nature trail in Stony Brook, NY.

Forty years ago, in September of 1981, my friends and I hopped on the Long Island railroad and went to see Simon & Garfunkel perform in Central Park.

It was a legendary evening immortalized in a hit live album and film. For us, it was an adventure; an experience… another chapter in a deep bank of memories.

Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel were already sort of an oldies act when they took the stage and sang their timeless classics.

“Old friends, old friends
Sat on their park bench like bookends”

The song is about childhood friends who sit together on a park bench a lifetime of memories between them.

In the song, the characters are 70 and they find that fact to be strange.

Can you imagine us years from today
Sharing a park bench quietly
How terribly strange to be seventy

Where did life go, they wonder. And so do we all.

Back in ‘81, we were 16 and 17, we had just gotten our driver’s licenses and our first cars.

A green ‘67 Mustang for Ben, a ‘69 Karmann Ghia for Dewey and oddly, a 76 AMC Pacer for Scott who insisted that the car was really a squat version of a Porsche. Nice try…Scott.

Life for us, was just beginning. We were loving high school, chasing young women with mixed success, going to parties on weekends and watching something called a music video on a new station called MTV.

College, marriage, careers, children, homes, travel and all the other stuff was all ahead for us.

It was a special time. Our parents and grandparents and beloved aunts and uncles were alive and very much in our lives. The mysteries of life were still there to be experienced for the first time.

They were truly the “wonder years” and we were experiencing them together. We spent our time talking about the future into the wee hours of the morning on deserted beach roads on the east end of Long Island.

Last weekend, several of us left our lives behind to meet back home in Stony Brook for a quick mini-reunion. We visited old haunts, fell into old taunts and drank wine and bourbon way past our normal bedtimes.

We are 57 now. Still young and spry enough to kick up a little trouble but old enough to see that 70 year old man on the park bench and realize we are fast approaching that part of our lives if we are fortunate enough to get there.  We know there are no guarantees.

A few of us have had scares and were left scarred by what life throws at all of us. A serious bout of melanoma, Covid, divorce, financial crises, business ups and downs and the loss of people we knew to cancer, heart attacks, strokes and crashes both plane and car.

Nobody gets out unscathed. It seems to be the law.

But it’s the “in betweens” that matter too. The joys which are so abundant.

We have all found love, we all have kids we are proud of, we have all done well in our careers. We have also experienced the joys of friendship. The flat out miracle of enduring bonds that formed when we were 5,6 and 8 years old that have lasted a half century.

From Nixon to Biden, from rotary dial phones to smart phones and from MTV to Netflix. The one constant for me and for the others has been each other.

We have been there for one another  at every step of the journey and at this stage it’s a reasonable assumption that will always be true.

Together and collectively, we’ve travelled a million miles and gone a million places. I am so proud of these guys. They are good men in a world where that is not a given.

During the height of the pandemic, my oldest friend Dave, organized a regular Zoom call for all of us to gather and share wine, spirits and conversation. The zoom happy hours helped us all get through the isolation of lockdowns.

Those calls were a lifeline and a joy. Old stories that make us laugh, gaps in our memories filled, new stories and plenty of debates about the day’s news. I loved every call and they are ongoing.

When I got a bad case of Covid, I couldn’t participate for two months or so. But as I lay on my back too weak to sit up and too sick to walk across the room, I could count on a steady stream of texts from my brothers. Funny messages. Encouraging words. Hopeful questions. I felt the care and concern. And I thought “my goodness, I may never see these guys again.”

If Covid takes me out, I won’t be on that park bench when I’m 70 telling the story of that time in the parking lot of Mario’s… But, miraculously I made it home and back to the calls and my friends.

We resolved that when vaccines were out and it was safer to meet that we would get together.

We used to get together every few years as a group but life got in the way. We got busy. We all get busy.

But this time we met—back home where we came of age— together.

The details of the weekend are private but suffice it to say that we did a lot more worrisome things when we were teenage boy’s roaming those winding roads of the Three Villages in unsafe muscle cars with questionable brakes.

I do want to say that if you are lucky enough to have an old friend or two or 10, make sure to see them while you can. Zoom is great. So are texts. But live and in person beats Facebook, FaceTime and WhatsApp.

The park bench looms large these days. I can see it in a dozen years of so.

I hope to make it.  I trust these guys will meet me there.

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