Cultural Attractions in Delray Beach and Boca Raton

Boca Raton and Delray Beach punch well above their weight class when it comes to culture. Both cities are home to museums, world class libraries, art exhibits, concerts, dance, theater and more.

Most of the time you won’t have to leave home, but if you do the greater South Florida area features some of the best cultural venues and opportunities in the world.

Thank You Janet….

C. Ron Allen and Janet Meeks greet students on the first day of school at Carver Middle.

“Many a flower is born to blush unseen and waste its sweetness on the desert air.” — From the poem “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” by Thomas Gray.

I came across that line in something I read recently.

I can’t put my finger on what I was reading but the phrase stirred something in me, so I wrote it down.

And when I revisited my note, it made me wonder: what does it mean to be a flower born to be ‘unseen’?

As I thought about the phrase, I felt it related to beauty or value that doesn’t get recognized or appreciated.

To be honest, I’m not one for poetry unless of course you are talking about song lyrics which have always fascinated me.

“Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice

In the church where a wedding has been

Lives in a dream

Waits at the window, wearing the face

That she keeps in a jar by the door

Who is it for?”

Now that’s poetry….

But something about this particular Thomas Gray poem resonated. So, I looked it up and I learned that it’s about the universality of death and how our inevitable end serves as a leveling force that brings all people, rich or poor, to the same final fate.

I know. I know. You didn’t bargain for something this heavy on Monday morning. But please bear with me, we get sunnier as this goes on.

Thomas Gray wrote the poem after the death of a friend. It’s meant to be a tribute to the common man and is considered Gray’s masterpiece.

Pretty impressive stuff.

Wouldn’t it be nice to create something that others call your masterpiece?

Regardless, perhaps the beauty of poetry (or a song lyric)  is  that the reader gets to assign their own meaning to the words on the page.

For instance, the Bob Dylan classic “Lay, Lady, Lay” was said to be written about or for Barbra Streisand. Isn’t that wild? Who knew?
But as much as I appreciate Ms. Streisand, when I hear the song, I don’t think about her. And I don’t think about death when I read “Elegy.” To me, the poem speaks to undiscovered or underappreciated beauty.

Not to get all philosophical on this Monday morning, but that’s a concept that reverberates!

So, let’s think about the unsung heroes and heroines in our lives and communities.

Let’s make sure they are not “unseen,” let’s recognize them, let’s thank them, and let’s appreciate them. Now, while we still can.

I’ve been thinking about those extraordinary and sometimes unsung people because I’m on a committee planning a special Delray Chamber gala set for spring 2023. Never too early to mark your calendars!

Details are still being worked out but there’s a consensus that we would like the event to honor some of the special people who made a difference—many of them quietly.

The big shots get the glory, but the folks in the trenches make it happen. That’s true in business and it’s true in communities.

These special people should not go unseen. Their stories need to be told, remembered, and shared so that future generations may know.

I believe in the old proverb—when eating fruit, remember who planted the tree.

One of those special people who made a huge difference was honored Aug. 25 at the Delray Chamber’s Annual Education Breakfast. Janet Meeks, Delray’s long time Education Coordinator, is retiring. She’s a special person and should not go ‘unseen’ as the poet would say.

I couldn’t make the breakfast, but I sent some brief remarks. Below is an expanded version of what I sent.

 

I am sorry I can’t be with you to celebrate the start of another school year and the end of a remarkable career.

I was there at the beginning in 2001, when Janet Meeks invited me, a new commissioner, to lunch at the old Annex restaurant in Pineapple Grove to discuss an idea. Janet wanted to become the education coordinator for the City of Delray Beach.

In typical style, Janet laid out the facts about why the city needed to dedicate someone full-time to education in Delray Beach even though it was the School Board not the city that was responsible for local schools.

I was sold, instantly.

Not only on the need for our city to have someone who could help us improve our schools, but I was sold on Janet, the person. She’s special—hard working, dedicated and data driven. She has a heart of gold and a ton of vision.

The mayor and commission at the time were richly rewarded for supporting Janet’s initiative. Subsequent Mayors and commissioners have also benefited from Janet’s hard work and her unique ability to see the big picture: there are public servants and then there are public servants. Janet has always gone the extra mile. Janet Meeks has made a difference.

During my time in office, we decided to move Atlantic High School so we could build a new and larger facility to bring our children back home and add career academies.

We also started the Principal For a Day program to bring business and civic leaders into our schools, we championed the modernization of Spady Elementary School, created the Eagle Nest construction program, worked with community partners to add  Beacon Programs at Village Academy and the Achievement Center, developed a new Teen Center, saw the opening of a new Boys and Girls Club, provided afterschool and summer programs to stop the “summer slide” in learning and launched the Get Caught Reading program which gave books to children. We also launched citizen academies to build relationships with our stakeholders. That was just our term in office….she’s done a whole lot more.

Janet spearheaded it all….and then some. In short, she has been an amazing asset for this city.

Over the years, we’ve become good friends, so I’m excited for the next chapter. Janet leaves a legacy of achievement…she created this job and set the bar high.  Those of us lucky enough to work with her will always love and appreciate our remarkable friend. Good luck Janet…thanks for asking me to lunch all those years ago. You hit it out of the park my friend and a generation of Delray children are grateful for your care and concern.

Vision Endures, Politics Fade

The majestic Back Cove Trail in Portland, ME.

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

That kind of leadership is rare these days.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes visions get derailed—for good or temporarily.

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

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

The emerald necklace endures.

The Best Way To Predict The Future Is to Create It

This can contains years of hard work (still tastes great).

On Aug. 1, a dream came true for a company that I love.

Celsius, born in Delray Beach and based in Boca Raton, announced a long-term strategic deal with Pepsico that will take the brand global, pump $550 million into the company and give Pepsi an 8.5 percent ownership stake in what is now a company valued at  nearly $8 billion.

It was an amazing moment—years and years (and tears and fears)—in the making.

And that’s how it goes.

That’s the entrepreneurial journey—if it works out.

Of course, nothing is guaranteed except…

  •  Lots of hard work.
  •  Risk, that can seem crazy at times.
  • Oh, and whole lot of twists and turns.

Celsius experienced it all and then some.

I’ve had a front row seat on the Celsius ride for more than a decade now and it has been fascinating.

I worked for the company as COO in the lean years when we dreamed big, reached for the stars, made some progress, and took some beatings. It was a thrill.

I had the experience of a lifetime working alongside a team of amazing people who believed Celsius was going to be the next big thing at a time when you couldn’t find it on a shelf if you employed a team of blood hounds.

The company grew when I was there—we landed the big accounts, rang the bell on NASDAQ, taped our first TV commercial and signed a celebrity spokesman (Mario Lopez, he was terrific and believed in the brand).

But it wasn’t our time—and so we lost some of those big accounts and got delisted from NASDAQ when our stock price failed to meet their threshold. Ups and downs. But we never stopped believing.

Not. For. One. Second.

Why?

Because we knew we had something special.

And because the man who became the company’s biggest investor (and cheerleader) and saw big things for the brand never stopped believing in Celsius’ potential. This man had boundless faith and we had faith in his talent for predicting what will work in the marketplace.

That man is Carl DeSantis. He’s a visionary.

In full disclosure, I work as an executive for Carl’s family office here in Delray Beach. Carl is a friend, a mentor, a partner and a positive force in my life and the lives of countless others. He means the world to me and my family and a whole lot of other people who have been fortunate to work with (never for) Carl or Mr. D during his long career.

Carl was the founder and chairman of Rexall Sundown, a huge vitamin manufacturer based in Boca. He sold that company in 2000 for $1.8 billion and immediately went back to work forming CDS International Holdings which has been involved in an array of businesses over the years ranging from Celsius and Tabanero hot sauce to restaurants, office buildings, hotels, a South African preserve, a men’s clothing line and real estate. Carl is an interesting man with broad interests—and a keen eye. We’ve learned to listen to what he’s seeing— if that makes sense.

He’s also generous, kind, a tad mischievous, down to earth and a little shy. If you know him, you love him.

CDS has been very supportive of Celsius through the ups and downs. We had faith because faith is contagious, and Carl spread the gospel.

What happened with Pepsi was a dream come true…or was it a prediction? All I know is that for years at every meeting—even when there was bad news— Carl would say with absolute certainty that one day “one of the big boys are going to call” to get involved with what Celsius CEO John Fieldly calls a “disruptive force in the energy drink market.”

That’s what Celsius is….disruptive and unique—and that was always the promise and the potential. Brick by brick,  year after year, you keep pushing until the market says “we see you” among the blizzard of brands vying for their attention and loyalty.

Our friend Carl saw the potential right away…and the lesson here is “ya gotta believe!”

Mets fans will get that reference.

But whether it’s baseball or beverages, a local shop or a vision for your town you have to believe. Especially when the going gets rough and the going always gets rough.

When the dark days came to Celsius, Carl used to say “dig in, we’re going win.”

The team learned a lot, tried a lot of different things and kept plugging away. Celsius never gave up.

Victory, while never guaranteed, is sweeter when you’ve overcome adversity.

Celsius overcame a slew of adversity. That little company, that started in a warehouse like office on 4th Avenue, saw it all—and made it through the maze—for now.

Because that is the other lesson. Success, much like failure, is hardly ever final.

Yes, the company is flying and now they have the global might of Pepsi behind them. But they have to transition successfully to the new partnership, they have to execute and they have to stand up to the competition which never lays down.

Cities are the same way…once you succeed, you can’t get complacent. You must wake up a little bit scared and stay focused. Success is never final. You are never done.

That’s not a bad thing or a curse, it’s a blessing that enables you to grow and innovate.

We, as fans, investors, friends, and supporters of Celsius, can’t wait to see what’s next.

Knowing the team as well as we do, we’re bullish that the best is yet to come.

Note:
We lost a local icon last week when former Boca Raton Mayor Susan Whelchel passed away.

My friend Blake who knew her well said it best: “An amazing woman and true public servant. It was a privilege to stand with her through thick and thin.

Loyal yet tough, Mayor Susan Whelchel brought out the best in us, and in return gave us her all. She was my friend. I am heartbroken, and will miss her.”

We all will. She was special. We need more people like Susan Whelchel in the public arena. It was a privilege to know her.

 

A Year Of Darkness

There’s a darkness in the center of town.

Anniversaries are funny things.

We mark the dates we like to celebrate—weddings, first dates, the opening of businesses. But we also mark the dates we’re troubled by—the loss of a loved one, the break up of a relationship, hurricanes etc.

For many in our community, 8/10 has become a date they will remember.

On August 10, 2021, the Delray Beach City Commission voted 3-2 to sever their relationship with Old School Square and terminate a 32 year history with the organization that created and largely funded that magical place on the corner of Atlantic and Swinton that catalyzed the rebirth of our downtown and became the creative hub of our  community.

A year later, the theater and museum remain dark despite sssurances from the commission majority and the City Manager that there would be a “seemless” transition with more and better cultural opportunities.

Instead, we’ve been left with expensive litigation, embarrassing headlines for the city and big bills ahead for taxpayers to get the place up and running again.

Over the past year, we have witnessed oodles of accusations against the volunteers and donors who lovingly supported Old School Square and worked on behalf of our community for decades.

Some of those volunteers and donors have been so poorly treated that they have vowed to never serve again. Others are steadfast in their resolve to not be bullied and have vowed to continue their efforts to bring a modicum of common sense back to a town that once was a beacon for other cities to admire and follow.

But divisive politics and a nonstop turnstile of staff at City Hall have left us with a lot of damage  and dysfunction.

Everywhere you go these days, people ask “what happened to Delray? “

We used to hear: “I wish our town got along as well as your town does.”

That’s a big swing in sentiment.

So why does it matter?

After all, the downtown is teeming with visitors, property values continue to soar and tourists are still flocking to “America’s Most Fun Small City.”

Indeed, all of those things are true. And I would argue that’s a testament to the good work that began in the late 80s with the Atlantic Avenue Task Force, Visions 2000, the Decade of Excellence, the Downtown Master Plan and other efforts large and small ranging from the Community Land Trust, the Cultural Plan, Southwest Plan and an important and groundbreaking initiative to improve race relations. There was a lot of good work done in this town. The success we’ve experienced was not an accident. It was planned and made possible by a generation of volunteers who cared passionately about working together to buld a better community.

At the center of it all was Old School Square.

Not only was the project a catalyst for downtown revitalization and civic renewal, but it was a place to gather, dream, talk things over and soak up the arts with a slew of memorable performances and exhibitions lovingly curated and made possible by local leaders who dreamt of making this a special place —and succeeded.

So this anniversary is a sad one.

Because we have lost so much. And I contend that the success mentioned before is endangered by a political culture that prizes personal retribution over doing what’s best for the community.

A month or so ago,  the city went back to the old playbook and held a charrette, or gathering, to determine what should happen at Old School Square.

Charrettes are great and there is a rich history of successful ones that made a profound difference in our town.

But the spirit of a charrette is to allow stakeholders to dream unencumbered and this one violated that basic and fundamental tenet. Attendees were told to focus on  “what” should happen at Old School Square not “who” should run the place.

That struck many as unfair.

But the city didn’t want to be embarrassed because the optics would have been bad if the stakeholders said they liked what they had. Besides, a majority of the commission had already decided that they wanted the Boca Museum and two local artists to be in charge only to see that idea fizzle out.

Lo and behold, the outcome of the charrette proved quite interesting and predictable really. The stakeholders who attended—many stayed away because they didn’t trust the process—said they wanted largely what they had before with the organization that was booted from the premises.

Many of us were not surprised because while Old School Square was by no means perfect or all that it could be, they were doing a whole lot right and there was no public clamor for a change.

So why was the group booted from the place they created? Why was there a sense of urgency to get rid of a group that provided 75-80 percent of the funding to support things like free concerts, art exhibits, theater productions and classes?

The answer to those questions can be found in one word: Politics (with a capital p).

Pure and simple.

The board, the donors and the volunteers pissed off a few people who had the power to break the place.

Why?

What did these people do that was so heinous?

Well, they didn’t support the right candidates as deemed by the powers that be.

And that’s why we hear the refrain that whoever inherits those buildings should be apolitical or perhaps from another community entirely. Really?

We should ask involved citizens to not have an opinion? We should ask another community to come in and run cultural programs in our town?

So I wonder.

I wonder if the board, donors, volunteers and supporters of Old School Square had supported the so-called “right candidates” if there would be a clamor to make non profit board members apolitical or if there would be this need to bring in Boca to run our community’s beating heart.

I doubt it.

Granted, non-profits should not be political.

But individuals who choose to volunteer shouldn’t have to disenfranchise themselves to serve. Old School Square was not political. But the people involved do have opinions and they are entitled to be citizens. Instead of doing what you can to “make those people go away” perhaps the powers that be ought to look in the mirror and ask why a large segment of community leaders and volunteers are unhappy with their politics. Maybe, they should even talk to those who disagree with them. I know that’s a radical concept, but some dialogue might have saved the taxpayers millions of dollars because that’s what it is going to take to fix this mess.

For the past year, the board, donors, volunteers and supporters of Old School Square have been excused of being “political”, “double dipping” (whatever that is) and even worse. But all they’ve been doing is fighting for something they believe in. Bullies don’t like that. They like to dish it out, they don’t like it when you push back.

There have been no conversations to solve this expensive problem, no efforts to settle the litigation, establish dialogue or work things out.

Instead, we’ve seen a once effective CRA weaponized by politics and used as a cudgel to strike back at those who have dared to stand up for what they believe in. The latest is the CRA effort to get the Small Business Administration to investigate PPP funds used to get Old School Square through a horrible  and unforeseen pandemic.

All of this matters because all of this comes with a cost.

It will take millions of taxpayer dollars to bring Old  School Square back on line. Millions of dollars to make the darkened Crest Theatre function again and get the museum up and running. PS those millions were already raised and being deployed when the plug was pulled.

The generous donor who paid to improve the Cornell Museum, renovate the Crest Theater and add a long coveted commercial kitchen so the organization could host more and better community events pulled her funds and recently spoke before the commission to ask what happened and why those beloved buildings are still dark a year later.

I wonder if other donors were watching and thinking maybe they ought to invest elsewhere. Yes, there is a hidden cost to this brand of politics.

A year ago, I wrote two emails to our latest City Manager Terrance Moore.

The first was to welcome him to our city and wish him well. I wished Mr. Moore success because we’ve had 9, 10 or a hundred (I forget)  City Managers come and go (many humiliated and two with lawsuits) since David Harden retired in 2012 after 22 years in the job.

We need a good manager. We need one to succeed and build a staff that can effectively serve our community.

I got a nice reply back from Mr. Moore at the time.

My second email was a cautionary one after the August 10 decision. I felt that the Manager’s messaging was political and that it was dangerous because managers need to serve both sides of the divide. I also felt,and still do, that he does not grasp the enormity of the mistake that was made and the monumental task it will be to bring back Old School Square.

Those who know would have cautioned Mr. Moore that the transition would not be seemless and that there are many moving parts to consider and understand that he simply doesn’t get. How can he? He’s brand new to our community.

I don’t fault Mr. Moore for the decision.  He didn’t make it. But I do fault him for not speaking truth to power and for failing to talk to a wide swath of the community on this issue to gain a better understanding of the importance of Old School Square.

The lesson here, as we mark a sad anniversary, is that before you break something you really need to be confident you can put it back together again.

I’ve seen a lot of things broken in recent years by people who weren’t around when things got fixed.

Cities are delicate organisms—resilient only to a point. Pull a thread here and there and you may get lucky. But pull the wrong thread and a place can unravel.

The sad lesson is something that can take 30 plus years to build can be broken in one night by one vote. And it wasn’t even on the agenda…so you , the ones who pay the bills, didn’t get a chance to say stop.

 

Both Sides Now

What do you see in those clouds?

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

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

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

I really don’t know clouds at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

If not now, when?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which brings me back to the concept of place.

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

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

But I do wish more would love her too.

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

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

That’s the vibe everywhere we wandered.

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

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

We complain…a lot.

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

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

 

Community & Connections

“ What should young people do with their lives today? Many things, obviously. But the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured.” – Kurt Vonnegut

Don’t you love that quote?
I’ve been thinking about loneliness lately. 
It’s been two years since I recovered from Covid after spending 39 days in isolation at Bethesda Hospital. 
For me, and for millions of others, Covid was a profound experience. The virus changed our world, altered our society and ended and upended the lives of so many people all over the world. 
But even though I was isolated in the hospital I was never alone. I had a community behind me. What a blessing that was. I believed it saved me. 
I’m reliving the power of community this week through the magic of Facebook memories. 
Throughout my hospitalization, I received a steady barrage of encouraging messages and prayers from the community. It was powerful and profound. I’ve been moved all over again just by scrolling through the memories. 
The power of community. What a beautiful thing to behold. 
I saw it again last week when I tuned in remotely to watch the funeral service of former City Commissioner Bob Costin. 
We are deeply saddened by the loss of Bob who was beloved by so many. 
But we are also reminded of the example he set. His was a life of service and dedication to family, friends, country and community. 
Bob loved the community he built here in Delray, at his lake house in Georgia and among fellow RVers and florists. 
Community enriched him, strengthened him and in turn he gave his communities so much. 
Pat Canning, who we lost last week, also understood the power of community and service as did her late husband Vince Canning, who was a legendary civic leader. 
Watching Bob’s funeral and reading tributes to Mrs. Canning, I was reminded of our better angels and better times.  
Across town, our City Commission was meeting and while I don’t watch those meetings I was sent a clip that bothered me. The clip showed a local philanthropist who gave $2 million to Old School Square standing before our elected representatives and wondering aloud why her donation was squandered (the project she funded was not completed when the commission voted 3-2 to terminate Old School Square’s lease after 32 years of service and community building). Margaret Blume, that generous philanthropist, is a wonderful person. If you watch the clip, you can’t help but notice the hurt and disbelief in her voice. She was never thanked. The theater and museum she loves both sit dark. The community she hoped to be benefit with her generosity , is not being served by vacant buildings. 
Friends, we need to tend to our community. We need to repair the parts of the fabric that have been torn. 
We need to honor the memories of our civic leaders who understood that service, love, respect, dialogue and kindness are building blocks that create great and happy places. 
We long to live in a community that wraps its arms around us. It’s a choice. We can do it.  But we need to be intentional about what we want to be. 
At that same commission meeting, a citizens group of which I am a part, led by former Fire Chief Kerry Koen told the commission about a plan to honor the late Alfred “Zack” Straghn, one of Delray’s civic heroes, with a plaque outlining his tireless efforts to make our community a better and more inclusive place. 
The idea seemed to be embraced. That’s a good thing. A start. 
We have so much work ahead of us. 
We may or may not be able to heal the divisions affecting our wonderful country. But I hope we will. 
We cannot bring back those lost to a brutal pandemic. But I pray we can heal those suffering from the lingering effects of long Covid and I hope we can comfort the families of those who lost loved ones. 
I also hope that we will spend some time thinking about those who serve our community as volunteers. 
Volunteers are precious commodities. 
They don’t volunteer for the glory or the credit, they give back because they love something. 
They deserve our thanks and our respect. 
That’s not controversial, that’s basic. 
To come full circle. Take another look at that Vonnegut quote. 
We live in a society of devices. We are buried in our phones, wrapped in headsets and ear buds. 
We work remotely. We date by scrolling through photos on an app. We get our news in silos that agree with our particular beliefs. 
These days we have our own set of facts and we fail to trust institutions we once banked on. 
It’s a recipe for loneliness. 
But the antidote  to loneliness is community. 
It’s a time to reconnect. It’s time to rebuild. It’s time to say thank you. 
It means everything. 
Two years ago, this community wrapped it arms around me and my family. It made all the difference and I’m forever grateful.
I’ve experienced the benefits and I’ve seen the downside when community erodes.
There’s no comparison. Community heals. 
 
 

The Adventures Included A Stop In Delray

Highly recommended and a thorough joy.

A few years back, we went to a conference in New York City that featured two well-known keynote speakers: Bill Clinton and Rudy Guiliani.

President Clinton was making a comeback from heart surgery and Rudy was still riding the “America’s Mayor” mantle post 9/11. This was long before bizarre press conferences at landscaping companies with dripping hair dye.
But despite the pedigrees of the two aforementioned speakers, the guy that absolutely stole the show was a plain spoken man from Brooklyn named Herb Cohen.
Herb’s conference session was the single best presentation I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a bunch of good presentations. Nobody has ever come close.
Mr. Cohen was funny, informative and devishly charming and he gave the rapt audience actionable information they could apply to their lives and their businesses.
He spoke about the art of negotiation and if you think about it, we do a lot of negotiating in every aspect of our lives.
I left the session hungry for more information and when I returned to Delray Beach I Googled Mr. Cohen to learn all I could about this master negotiator who was funnier than the best stand up comics.
Imagine my surprise when I learned that Herb Cohen, Herbie to his friends and family, lived in Delray Beach!!!
Of all the gin joints in the world, Herbie lived in the town where I was serving as mayor.
I had to meet him.
So I sent an inquiry through his website and within a day heard back from his lovely wife and associate Ellen.
Herb would love to meet you, she wrote. Would we like to come to their home for brunch?
I jumped at the opportunity and Diane and I made a date with the Cohen’s.
We hit it off right away, like old friends, and I tried to contain my excitement. There were so many questions I wanted to ask Herb.
After all, he was considered the world’s best negotiator. He was the man that worked with Presidents Carter and Reagan on the Iranian hostage crisis, stared down the Russians in arms control talks and worked on labor negotiations with the auto unions and Major League Baseball. He basically invented the profession he was practicing, traveling the world working with Fortune 500 companies and other organizations who needed someone to come in and get deals done and disputes solved.
Maybe, he even had a few words of advice for a small town mayor?
We went to dinner a few times at New York Prime and we enjoyed every moment with Herb and Ellen.
Over the years, we lost touch, but I never stopped thinking about and admiring the man who wowed the crowd in NYC.
When I heard that his son, the bestselling author Rich Cohen, was working on a memoir of his dad’s life I pre-ordered the book and waited.
When the book—“The Adventures of Herbie Cohen: The World’s Best Negotiator” —arrived I devoured it in a few sittings. It’s a great book. Rich captures the unique character and life of an American original whose life also included helping the FBI create its famed behavioral unit and being best friends with Larry King and growing up with Sandy Koufax.
Pretty cool…
The book also inspired me to go back to the source material Herbie’s classic “You Can Negotiate Anything” which still sells well 40 years after being published.
I highly recommend checking it out (and then reading my book “Adventures in Local Politics “, sorry I couldn’t resist).
Anyway, we lost Ellen a few years back and Herb decided to move back to Brooklyn.  But for a brief shining moment, Delray was his home. It makes me wonder who else may be quietly residing in Delray or Boca.

Dream Plan Grow
I had the pleasure of appearing on Allison Turner’s wonderful podcast recently and I recommend you check out her series which includes conversations with local entrepreneurs.
Allison operates BatCat Media and is a business coach as well. She does important work well.
Here’s a link to our conversation.

The Entrepreneurial Mindset: Interview with Jeff Perlman

New Vistas…

Greetings from Portland, Maine.

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

For The Bird…

Her name is Bailey and she’s special.

Do you believe in miracles?

I do.
And we just experienced one a week or so ago.
It was about 4 pm when my wife Diane called to tell me that Bailey, our 14 year old cockatiel, had flown out the door and flew high above the trees toward Lake Ida Road.
Ugh.
We’ve had Bailey since she was a baby and we adore her. The thought of her flying away was heartbreaking. How long could she last? She’s never really been outside unless you count a few car rides to grandpa’s house for babysitting.
I hurried home to join the search which now included Diane and our son Sasha.
We whistled and called her name, but we didn’t see anything.
It was boiling hot out. We didn’t even see a wild bird, never mind a pasta loving cockatiel we got from Brenda’s Birds in Delray.
It occurred to me that finding her would be like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack.
We went back inside to regroup and get some information.
I posted a message on our neighborhood Facebook page and surfed the Internet hoping to learn something about escaped cockatiels.
The information I unearthed was grim.
Finding a bird who escapes is a low odds deal and the more time they are gone, the worse the odds get.
We did find a suggestion to put her cage outside on the off chance that if she was still in the neighborhood she might recognize her perch and fly home.
So we tried it. And waited. To no avail.
Meanwhile, we continued to scour the neighborhood.
Nothing.
Sasha then came up with the idea of going  out with a speaker playing cockatiel songs including a YouTube video in which her late mate Butters sang the Tarantella. If you go to Youthbe and type in Butters Tarantella you can see it. It’s a brilliant performance.
Within minutes Bailey responded!  We heard her distinctive chirping answering the familiar sound of Butters’ voice. Miracle number one!
But while we heard Bailey, we still couldn’t find her. By this time, the search for Bailey included my wonderful neighbors Iain, his daughter Brooke and Barbara.
Then, miracle number two occurred when Iain spotted Bailey on the top of a mango tree in an empty lot adjacent to both of our homes.
We had found the needle in the haystack, but how do you get the needle to fly to us?
We tried by calling her name, whistling and generally praying that she would fly down to safety.
She refused.
Then some bad luck intervened when a mean old crow went after our poor little defenseless and domesticated pet.
Bailey fled the tree with the crow in hot pursuit. They flew over the house in a battle reminiscent of Top Gun, with the crow bearing down in our little bird, and Bailey flying like mad to get away. It was heartbreaking to watch. We had come so close to getting her back only to lose her again.
The pair flew fast down the canal and out of our sight.
We were stunned.
This was cruel.
What were the odds of finding her only to lose her again?
We were heartbroken.
By this time, it had been a few hours and it was starting to get dark. What would happen to our little Bailey? Did the crow get her? Did another predator? How would she survive in the wild?
We went back inside crestfallen.
Diane checked Facebook and yet another miracle occurred.
A neighbor had seen our post and another one on another Facebook  page I never would have seen. She put two and two together and contacted Diane alerting us to the post on the other page. A woman had found a brown cockatiel in her backyard in the Lake Ida neighborhood.
She was sitting out back (rare on a very hot night) and Bailey flew onto her shoulder (atypical behavior if she doesn’t know you, but she must have been tired) and the woman happened to be experienced with birds, happened to have a cage and had the presence of mind to post about it.
That’s a lot of breaks and we got ‘em all!
Within a few minutes, we were on the phone and making the match. Sasha cut through the backyard and came back with Bailey who was no worse for the ordeal other than a few scratches near her face. She chowed down on pasta and was off to bed.
All told, she was gone almost four hours.
What are the odds?!
Yes, dear friends there are small miracles.
The next day she was a little quiet as if she was processing her adventure. But the day after that she was back to her saucy self.
We don’t know how she got out of the cage and the house, but we are being extra careful now.
After all, she’s a magical little bird saved by a speaker, chased by a crow and rescued by a very Good Samaritan. Whew!!!

Remembering Bob….

Bob with Lori Levinson, Diane Colonna, Mr. and Mrs. Bobby Musco, Jon Levinson and Ron Hoggard during a conference out west.

On paper, Bob Costin and I shouldn’t have been friends.

He was tall. I’m short.

He loved the Red Sox, I love the Yankees.

He was a Republican, I’m a Democrat.

He wasn’t keen on Chinese food and loved lobster. I live for orange chicken and can’t even look at a lobster.

Bob Costin was 30 years older than me when we lost him last week. He lived a long and very good life, but losing him sure does hurt.

He’s family.

Diane and I love Bob and his lovely wife Sonya.

We are not alone.

Everyone who knew Bob —and there were many —loved him.

He was warm, funny, optimistic, smart, sensitive, caring, open-minded and lived one heck of a life.

Bob when he was president of FTD at the White House with Betty Ford. This image is in the Ford Presidential Library.

Bob and Sonya owned Costin’s florist in downtown Delray for decades and Bob became president of FTD, rising to the top of his profession. He travelled the world for FTD and was famously in Iran when the Shah was overthrown. He and his contingent had to run through the airport to escape when the country fell to the Ayatollah.

He told stories with gusto and wit and we hung on every word. I will miss those stories.

And I’ll miss the calls when we discussed the news of the day. We were different people from different generations but we always found common ground.

Diane grew close to Bob when he served as a CRA commissioner. He was a really good CRA commissioner and very supportive of staff and his fellow commissioners.

He would later run for and serve a term on the City Commission. I had the pleasure of sitting next to Bob on the dais. We called him the “high commissioner” in deference to his 6’5” height.

I relied on Bob. I truly did.

I valued his experience and his common sense wisdom.

He was the opposite of me in terms of temperament, and I needed his quiet mentoring.

He was calm, I was high strung. He had decades of perspective; I was still a young man in my 30s.

You can see Bob’s nameplate in this shot. He was a calming influence on the dais.

Having Bob on the commission gave us confidence and I knew he had my back. He had a sparkle in his eye when he looked at you that put you at ease even during the tensest of moments.

I knew he believed in what we were doing and that gave me comfort. He had a gentle way of framing issues and injecting humor and common sense into the conversations we were having with each other and with the community.

We were change agents. We were moving things forward, making noise, pushing ideas and driving hard and fast. But we were also having fun—largely because of Bob.

He set the tone.

And he calmed the waters too.

Bob would amble over to The Green Owl every morning where there used to be a table of civic fathers (all men, no women) who sat and held court.

I liked all the men who sat at the table—Ernie Simon, Mayor Leon Weekes, Charlie Gwynn, Ken Ellingsworth, Bob Miller, and a few others. All civic giants; all long-term players.

I think most were OK with me, but I wasn’t a peer. I wasn’t one of them. Bob was.

And if they had a beef with a decision we made, Bob explained the rationale behind the vote and smoothed the waters.

He knew how to lead with grace. Even when he disagreed with you; he was affable. He showed respect for others and he was respected by all as a result.

Bob Costin was old school.

A flip phone. No email.

When we would comment on the large volume of emails we were getting on a hot issue, Bob would smile.

“I didn’t get any,” he would say. “My modem must be down.”

And then he would laugh, that big, garrulous, wonderful and warm laugh.

I wish I had a dollar for every time he used the “modem” line which was always followed by that laugh.

I liked so much about Bob, but I loved three things the most.

First, his hunger for knowledge and his ability to keep an open mind.

Sometimes people of a certain vintage get a reputation of being closed off to change. Not Bob. He was willing to try things. Willing to take a leap.

“We have to keep up with the times,” he’d say. “People will understand.”

Bob and Diane in front of the Costin’s rock star RV.

I also loved how much he was devoted to Sonya, a teacher who ended up working alongside Bob at the florist. They were quite a pair, married for 65 years.

They did so much together. Travel, RV adventures, a dream lake house in Georgia and an occasional Red Sox game. Ugh, those Red Sox.

Bob would call me if the Sox beat the Yankees and rub it in.

I was not above giving it back to him.

When we invited Bucky Dent to get a proclamation on the 25th anniversary of his epic home run to beat the Sox at Fenway in 1978, Bob whipped out a Red Sox cap as Bucky came to the mic.

It was an epic moment. And everyone, including Bucky, laughed.

They traded some good natured barbs and a special moment was made immortal.

Bob used to joke that he lived on Federal Highway before living on Federal Highway was cool.

The Costin’s had a cottage on U.S. 1 where Putt N Around now sits. He lived there before the townhomes made the neighborhood fashionable.

His cottage was moved and is now an office in the Old School Square Historic Arts District.

I drive by it frequently and last week when I passed by, I got a lump in my throat.

I remember Bob calling from Georgia and asking about his house after a hurricane. Would I go by and check on it?

Sure, Bob.

Of course, I would tell him that it was gone, trying my best to sell that story, but all I heard was that laugh.

“You know Jeff,” he would say. “I would’ve emailed you, but my modem is down.”

Bob served two years on the commission, opening a seat for Rita Ellis to secure. Rita would follow me as mayor.

We continued to stay in touch, often going to dinner—but never Chinese.

“Next time, Jeff,” he would say.

So, we kept going to Longhorn and a few times to Il Girasole.

We talked Delray. We talked national news. We met up at a wedding in Italy. We met Bob and Sonya’s  RV friends and we avoided Chinese food and email. And we talked about my kids.

And that’s my third favorite thing about Bob. He was genuinely concerned for your kids and family. He adored Commissioner Jon Levinson and his wife and their three daughters and attended many a dinner at their home, including holidays.

When I got Covid, Bob, who finally got a smart phone, texted me encouraging words. Every single day.

Don’t give up. He wrote.

You’ll be ok. He texted.

And I didn’t. And I was. Eventually.

Lately, Bob was sick.

Diane and I went to see him. He smiled. He looked different but still had that wonderful voice. His last words to us was “I love you guys.”

We said it back.

And now that he’s gone, I realize something. Bob’s modem was never down.

A modem is a device that that is used to transmit and receive information.

That was our Bob.

He brought us information from a place of goodness, kindness and love.

Love for people, love for community, love for Delray Beach.

We will miss this man. He was the high commissioner, a wonderful man and a friend to so so many.

We love you Bob.

The Costin’s in Georgia with Chuck and Pam Halberg.