A Wonderful Life

President Carter

Like many Americans, I didn’t think Jimmy Carter was a great president.
But also like many Americans, I think Jimmy Carter may have been our best former president.
President Carter, who passed recently at the age of 100, was a long term player. I like long term players. I think they hold great lessons for all of us.

When you reach a pinnacle, President, CEO, Governor or even mayor of a small town,  it’s just that, a pinnacle. Not The Pinnacle. There’s always more for us to do. More for us to accomplish and aspire too.

Last week, I shared an article with friends that talked about old age.
The article noted that we cease being young when we stop aspiring, when we stop dreaming about the future.
It’s fine to be nostalgic and it’s important to learn from and reflect on the past, but we can’t live there. We have to keep moving forward. We can’t stop dreaming. There’s more for us to do. President Carter was a great example of that.

President Carter never got old.

He was only 56 when he lost his reelection bid to Ronald Reagan. He lived another 44 years. And it was a remarkable 44 years filled with building homes, global diplomacy, writing, teaching and of course romancing his beloved wife Rosalynn.

My friend Scott was one of President Carter’s students at Emory. He speaks glowingly about President Carter and tells a remarkable story about running into him years later while on a trip to Greece. The president remembered his name.
Now, Scott is a memorable character but that’s impressive.

A week before President Carter’s death, I happened to listen to a podcast featuring the historian Kai Bird.
Bird recently wrote a book about Carter which sounds fascinating.
He believes that Jimmy Carter may have been the smartest man to occupy the Oval Office. He talked about President Carter’s rise from Plains, Georgia to leader of the free world with stops first in the Navy, the Georgia Senate and Governor’s mansion.
It’s a remarkable story. An only in America saga. We still produce those stories and that’s comforting.

Jimmy Carter was our first rock and roll president befriending the Allman Brothers, Willie Nelson and Kris Kristofferson.
That’s a cool tidbit, but the important takeaway of his life, is that he turned a bitter and decisive defeat into a triumphant second chapter.
He was a long term contributor and he never stopped serving his country and people in need.
Personally, I don’t understand leaders who fade away.
How can you care so much about a cause or a place or a business and then just disappear?
Now admittedly there’s a fine line.

You don’t want to be the quarterback hanging around the high school parking lot talking about glory days.  And the you don’t want to be the  micromanager lurking in the shadows pulling the strings.
But you can be the veteran presence providing support and advice when needed and when asked. You can advise and find other ways to serve when the spotlight shifts to someone else. And folks, the spotlight always shifts to someone else.

Jimmy Carter never stopped serving or caring. You may disagree with his politics but it’s hard to argue with his commitment.
We need more servant leaders. We need more people who care to stay engaged for the long run.
Remembering a Chief
Delray lost another contributor recently with the passing of former fire chief Bob Rehr.
Chief Rehr was a good man and I enjoyed working with him briefly after I was elected to the City Commission in 2000.
He had a long and distinguished career in the fire service. He spent 24 years with the Miami Fire Department and served as Fire Chief in West Palm Beach.  All told, he spent 37 years in the fire service.
He will be missed. We send our condolences to Chief Rehr’s family during this difficult time.

The Unforgettable Vinny Mintus

Vinny (left) and his partner Sam. Mentor to many, a cop’s cop, Vinny Mintus left an indelible mark in Delray and at the School District where he worked after retiring from the Delray PD.

There are some people that are simply unforgettable.
Vinny Mintus was one of those people.
He had a great smile. He had presence, charisma and a a wonderful sense of humor.
He was also tough as they come.

If he liked you, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you. If you were a criminal you didn’t want Vinny to catch your case.
Vinny Mintus was a cop’s cop.
Vinny passed on New Year’s Day. It was sudden and shocking. And when I got the news I couldn’t believe it. It’s a gut punch to those of us who knew and loved Vinny. And to know Vinny was to love him.
Vinny Mintus was a legendary Delray Beach police officer, part of a special group of officers who saved this town and enabled any and all success we’ve enjoyed to take place. Let that sentence sink in. The Delray Beach Police Department saved this city.

That’s not an overstatement. I saw what these brave men and women did with my own eyes in the mid 80s and early 90s when Delray Beach was in the throes of a struggle with crack, crime and chaos. Entire neighborhoods in Delray were open air drug markets.
I had a chance to ride along with Vinny and many many others during that era. That experience shaped me and was an invaluable education.
And we saw progress, it took a combination of old school police work, relentless pressure on drug dealers and career criminals and community policing to turn the tide.
Our Police Department made it happen and continues to make it happen.  They deserve credit and respect. Without public safety, you have nothing.

A few years ago, the Delray Chamber held a series of civic education sessions designed to share the lessons learned that enabled Delray to thrive.
We tend to forget these lessons and if we do, we risk it all.
I invited Vinny to speak and he did a wonderful job explaining what it was like during the rough and tumble 80s. Vinny started his law enforcement career in 1977 in Miami-Dade County. He came to Delray in 1981. We were lucky that he did. He made a real and lasting difference.

Vinny was a great storyteller and took great pride in the department and his own experiences.
I never tired of hearing those stories. For me, they were full of lessons.
Vinny distinguished himself in so many ways. He was a great union president, a remarkable street cop, an excellent detective and became an indelible presence in Pineapple Grove walking that beat for years and holding court in the old Annex restaurant during lunch hour.
He became the mayor of that important street. He had all the requisite skills, a great smile, a generous laugh, warmth, toughness, smarts and vision. He was one of a kind.

When I heard the news my first thought was it couldn’t be true. Vinny seemed indestructible to me. After he retired from Delray he went to work for the School District Police. He was still doing background checks when we last spoke a few months back. As always, he sounded great. We traded stories and caught up on life. We talked about grabbing lunch, but it didn’t happen.

Vinny was proud of his son Andy, a Delray cop. Happy with his life and happy with his work.

Readers of this blog may recall that every year I have dinner with police and fire retirees at Arturo’s. It’s a tradition and a precious one.
This year, my friend, retired officer and detective Chuck Jeroloman, promised to bring a special surprise guest to dinner. We wondered who it might be. Turns out Vinny was the surprise. The dinner is next week and we will feel Vinny’s absence acutely.
My goodness it would have been amazing to see him and hear those great stories.

Days before his passing, Vinny spoke at the funeral of another legendary officer. Bill Bombacie, known as Bomber, recently passed. Vinny shared stories about what it took to turn the tide in Delray Beach.
My friends tell me he spoke with pride. That’s comforting.
That pride was earned. The hard way.
My friend Vinny was one of a kind.

This past week, I spoke with many people that he touched during his long career. He was beloved by local students who knew him as a DARE instructor, befriended local merchants downtown, and mentored a generation of amazing cops. He called me and others young man. I liked that, especially because it’s no longer true.
When I think of my friend Vinny Mintus,  the words “Terry’s Song” by Bruce Springsteen enter my head.

“ Well they built the Titanic to be one of a kind, but many ships have ruled the seas.

They built the Eiffel Tower to stand alone, but they could build another if they please.

Taj Mahal, the pyramids of Egypt, are unique, I suppose. But when they built you brother, they broke the mold.”

The song concludes with a line that I believe in with every fiber of my being: “love is a power greater than death.”
And so it is.
Vinny, when they built you brother they broke the mold.
Thanks for mentoring a generation of amazing officers and for watching over our town so well for so long. You will be missed but never forgotten.

 

Traffic Blues

Traffic in Miami.

Around this time of year, many of us are feeling overwhelmed by congestion.

Tis the season for traffic.

Fa la la la …blah.

Yes, I am talking about annoying, frustrating traffic punctuated by bad drivers and pedestrians who are oblivious to DO NOT WALK signs that are there to stop you from being maimed by the—bad and good drivers.

Bah humbug.

Now I wish I had good news for you regarding this vexing topic.

I don’t. There are no quick fixes and solutions will require us to think differently; never an easy thing.

But I do have a few things for you to consider.

First, you are not sitting in traffic, you are traffic. We all contribute.

Second, traffic never gets better.

That may sound defeatist, but if you believe David Edmondson, a transportation planner and a consultant with the Edmondson Planning and Design firm in Washington D.C. building more lanes and more roads won’t solve the problem, in fact, it makes congestion worse.

The culprit is something called induced demand.

Here’s what Edmondson recently wrote in a cheery little article called “Why Traffic Never Gets Better.”

“In 1962, (economist) Anthony Downs wrote that there is a Fundamental Law of Highway Congestion: no matter how much road is built, the highway will end up congested again. In decades since then, the United States has undergone a massive experiment in expanding most major roads, leading to an additional conclusion: there is a Fundamental Law of Traffic Congestion impacting both highways and major roads. In both cases, congestion will return to previous levels about 5 years after a widening. This is the phenomenon known as induced demand.”

Researchers looking at this issue use a measure called “lane-miles” to get at how much road is being built. A lane mile is the length of the road multiplied by how many lanes it has—a mile of two-lane road is two lane-miles, for instance. Add another two lanes to that stretch and you’ve built another two lane-miles.

 

Studies differ on exactly how much new driving is induced when new lane-miles are built. But they all hover at around a 1-to-1 ratio: a 1% increase in lane-miles results in a 1% increase in driving. But some studies show a worse ratio. The more lane miles, the worse that traffic gets.

Double ugh.

So sorry asphalt contractors, we can’t pave our way out of this conundrum.

Here’s Edmondson again.

“Why this occurs is relatively straightforward. Traffic demand is based on the immediate cost of driving: gas plus travel time. Reduce the time it takes to drive somewhere, and that trip becomes cheaper. People drive more because it now costs less. But as more people choose to drive more miles, the cost of driving settles back to where it was originally. Congestion is where the road system hits equilibrium, its happy place. Congestion always wins.”

Double ugh.

“Congestion always wins” is a terrible slogan. I do not recommend that future candidates use it.

But yet we keep adding lanes despite 62 years of research that says it doesn’t work.

Why?
Because some people believe widening does relieve congestion and others believe that if you add bike lanes and transit improvements alongside the widened roads, congestion will improve.

This indicates that politicians and engineers are still debating science, or they don’t trust the studies.

One researcher who has studied the issue said this in a New York Times story in 2023.

“If you keep adding lanes because you want to reduce traffic congestion, you have to be really determined not to learn from history.”

Makes sense.

But does that mean there are no answers?

Before we trot out the usual solutions: mixed use development that enables people to avoid trips, investments in mass transit, congestion tolling etc., let’s acknowledge that not everyone considers congestion a problem. Some urban thinkers consider congestion a good thing.

Blasphemy!

Ok, wait a second, let’s unpack what these heretics are saying before we condemn them.

Charles Marohn is the influential founder of the Strong Towns movement. We once hosted him in Delray Beach where he gave an interesting talk on his views before a packed crowd at Northern Trust on Atlantic Avenue.

He never calls congestion a problem.

“It is clearly not,” writes Marohn.  “Within our places — on our streets — congestion is an indicator of success. As Yogi Berra reportedly said: “Nobody goes there anymore because it is too busy.” Indeed. The most successful places are full of congestion. On the roads we build to travel between places, congestion signals many things but, for me anyway, it primarily indicates America’s cultural — and the engineering profession’s technical — misunderstanding of the systems we have built.”

Ok, Chuck Marohn, you have our attention.

Mr. Marohn believes we have created a system of roads destined to fail us. His answer: “the only way to deal with it and still have a successful economy is to address it at the source. We need to absorb those trips locally before they become a flood. Instead of building lanes, we need to build corner stores. We need local economic ecosystems that create jobs, opportunities and destinations for people as an alternative to those they can only get to by driving.

For nearly seven decades, our national transportation obsession has been about maximizing the amount that you can drive. Today, we need to focus on minimizing the amount you are forced to drive. If we develop a system that responds to congestion by creating local options, we will not only waste less money on transportation projects that accomplish little, but we will be strengthening the finances of our cities. We can spend way less and get way more in return. That’s the essence of a Strong Towns approach.”

In other words, Marohn’s solution is to turn soulless roads into streets, so instead of building speedways we build places that include a mix of uses.

In other words, do what Delray did to U.S. 1.

Here’s more Strong Towns thinking from Mr. Marohn.

“When I suggest that we convert our STROADS back into streets — changing unproductive transportation corridors into platforms for growth and investment — the pushback I get is that congestion will become unbearable. If we narrow those lanes, bring back the on-street parking, take out the turn lanes, remove the traffic signals, slow the automobile speeds and welcome a more complex urban environment, somehow we wouldn’t all be able to rapidly get to where we want to go.

To this I say: AMEN!

We have spent untold amounts of wealth reducing the time spent in the first and last mile of each auto trip. The result: a nation of fragile and unproductive places, an economy subsisting on financial meth and other desperation moves along with a built environment that forces (let me emphasize that to reinforce the notion that having only one option in a marketplace is quite un-American) FORCES nearly all of us to drive everywhere we need to go.

If we began to unwind this system, converting those nasty STROAD corridors into wealth producing streets, we would have congestion, of course, but in this case, congestion would simply be another word for opportunity. And not the type of opportunity that benefits the global corporation that can purchase toilet paper for 0.005 cents over cost, ship it around the world on subsidized transportation systems using subsidized energy all while protected by the U.S. military. I’m talking about opportunity for real people in real neighborhoods.

Need a gallon of milk? In an America of Strong Towns, you can get in your car and drive or — if the cost in terms of your time or quality of experience is worth more to you than you would choose to give up in dollar wealth — you can walk down the street to the corner grocer. Today that is considered quaint, but stop wasting enormous sums of money fighting congestion and now that becomes a real choice. Am I going to sit in my car for half an hour on clogged streets to save two dimes on milk or will I just walk up the block?”

Intriguing.

Of course, none of this happens overnight. Or without significant political will that pushes back against NIMBYism and old ideas.

P.S. Some of this thinking can be employed to battle the lack of housing.

Want to keep your big box?

How about letting people live next door to the box? Or how about converting all those one-story post offices to mixed use by allowing people to live above that use?

Regardless, we need to change our approach to congestion and begin to embrace some new ideas.

Meanwhile, be careful out there. And please don’t walk on red.

Have a wonderful New Year and thanks for reading.

Putting the Civil in Service

Admiral Stavridis.

Recently , a friend and I went to the Forum Club in West Palm Beach to see a speech by Admiral James Stravidis, the former Supreme Allied Commander of NATO.

It’s cool to be able to see a global figure in your own backyard. The Forum Club of the Palm Beaches provides these opportunities regularly. It’s special and I’ve resolved to take advantage and learn.

Admiral Stravidis has had a remarkable career. After his celebrated service in the Navy, he ran the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University and now serves as vice chair of the celebrated Carlyle Group, a major player in private equity.

He’s an impressive man. A serious man who has spent a career wrestling with some of the world’s most vexing problems: war, terrorism, national security and competition from China and Russia.

We enjoyed hearing his perspectives on NATO, Ukraine, Taiwan and our own military capabilities. Stravidis recently published a historical fiction book in which he tells the story of great admirals—Halsey, Nimitz–and how they defeated the Japanese in the Pacific, keeping the world safe from fascism. It was inspiring to hear the stories, especially from someone who has seen combat during his own era.

I came away with two thoughts after hearing the Admiral’s presentation.

First, we need people of this caliber running for national office. Serious people, experienced people, those who have seen the world as it is and therefore can steer a safe and productive course for the United States.

Every question posed to Admiral Stravidis was handled with depth, clear thinking and a solid rationale. It was impressive.

Second, he said something that has stuck with me because it’s true and it’s lacking today.

As a retired Naval officer, Admiral Stravidis is often thanked for his service. He said men and women in uniform appreciate the words “thank you for your service” but he urged us to expand our gratitude to others who serve us.

Teachers, police officers, firefighters, nurses and those who work for local, state and the federal government are among those who deserve our thanks. He included volunteers and those who serve in public office in his list of those who would benefit from those five words: thank you for your service.

It won’t cost us anything, but it will yield us benefits that cannot be calculated.

We have become a cynical and snarky bunch. And if I am honest, I can be that way too.

Truth is there are some people who don’t deserve our thanks, they deserve a trip to the woodshed but there are far more people who quietly serve us well. They should be thanked and respected.

Often, they are disparaged, disrespected and disregarded. Doing so is ruinous.

We can do better. We must.

Thank you for listening and have a Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukkah.

A Lifetime of Achievement

Yvonne Odom: A living legend

I’m fascinated by long term contributors.

I’m talking about the people in our civic universe who put their noses to the grindstone and work over long periods of time on the things that matter.

We often take these people for granted and seldom stop to recognize their achievements and impact.

We live in a fast-paced, complex and disposable world. We accumulate and then we discard. We are busy, but often not intentional.

Life can be overwhelming, especially this time of year.

So, when I saw that my friend Yvonne Odom was given a “Lifetime Achievement” award from Omega Psi Phi, I was thrilled. Mrs. Odom deserves recognition. She’s a remarkable person.

Omega Psi Phi Fraternity is the first international fraternal organization founded on the campus of a historically black college. That founding happened in November 1911 on the campus of Howard University in Washington D.C.

The motto of the organization is “friendship is essential to the soul.” And indeed, it is.

The words scholarship, perseverance and uplift are used to outline Omega Psi’s principles and when I think of Mrs. Odom those are the words that come to mind.

For those who don’t know, Yvonne Odom integrated Seacrest High School in 1961, becoming the first African American to attend the school that would become Atlantic High.

Mrs. Odom was chosen because of her strength, grit and resilience; traits that she exhibited as a teen and throughout her storied life. She was 15 and the only Black student at the time.

But while she made civil rights and educational history that day in ’61, she was just getting started.

Mrs. Odom became a teacher in 1967 and worked in Palm Beach County for 45 years touching countless lives. But when she retired from the classroom, she never stopped teaching others.

We became acquainted when I worked for the local newspaper and stayed in contact through my tenure as an elected official and beyond. If you were a smart local official, you listened when Mrs. Odom spoke. Her lessons are always tinged with insight and historical perspective.

Too often, public officials lose sight that they are public servants, there to serve the public. The best ones realize they have lots to learn from people like Mrs. Odom.

She’s always been generous with her time and opinions, and I think she would have made a fine elected official herself. A few years back, she tried to fill an interim position, but thanks to political dysfunction the commission deadlocked on how to fill an open seat, and we lost out on that opportunity. It was our loss.

But Ms. Odom just kept doing what she does. Speaking out, leading and supporting those making a difference in our community.

A lifetime achievement award honors just that— a lifetime of achievement. It is not a one-off accomplishment and it’s here that Mrs. Odom shines. She remains involved. She speaks out, she mentors, she advises, she’s engaged.

It’s the long-term contributors who move the needle in communities big and small. They don’t do it for recognition, but it sure is nice when their body of work is honored.

The communities that say thank you, the communities that “see” people, the communities that honor and respect those who give their time to others are the ones that succeed. They are the communities that are built to last.

A Milestone birthday…

Speaking of long term contributors.

We attended a birthday celebration for a close friend last week at the wonderful La Cigale restaurant.

Jim Chard is a long-term contributor. He’s got energy to burn and is involved in a raft of good causes: reef health, education,  entrepreneurship and making sure our tree canopy is growing and healthy. There’s more. He’s a true community servant.  I admire him.

These are the people who make good things happen. Leadership is synonymous with caring and Jim cares. Those who know him look forward to what’s next on his agenda. And there’s always something next.

Passings…

Vald Svekis, the entrepreneur behind the iconic Liberties Fine Books & Music, passed away recently. He was 83.

Mr. Svekis opened Liberties in Mizner Park in 1991, and the bookstore became a big draw for several years. He sold the business in 1994.

During its run Liberties became famous for hosting famous authors including former President Jimmy Carter, former VP Dan Quayle, famed rock photographer Lynn Goldsmith and Dr. Brian Weiss, best selling author of “Many Lives, Many Masters.”

Liberties became known as one of the country’s premier independent bookstores.

According to his obituary, “Svekis’s brilliantly zany marketing ideas brought renown. Dan Quayle’s appearance was promoted with campaign signs sprinkled around town; Gloria Steinem was greeted by a window display celebrating suffragettes and featuring her as the statue of Liberty; Madonna’s “Sex” could only be viewed in a “peep booth” for $1 a minute with all money going to AIDs Research. Liberties was sold in 1994, allowing Vald and Sherry (his wife) to retire to Sarasota.”

For those of us who love books, Liberties was a magnet. The store is still missed by those who experienced its magic.

 

The Water Cooler Is Gone

AWOL

There’s no water cooler anymore.

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

I’m reminded of this often.

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

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

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

There’s no common jukebox anymore.

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

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

There’s no Neil Simon anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Local news is dying.

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

There’s no water cooler anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The things that bind us.

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

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

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

If it dies, a lot will die with it.

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

I urge you to watch this documentary somehow, someway.

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

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

Thanks for reading.

 

25 Days of Kindness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ve seen it happen.

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

 

The Greatest Gift

Orlando Reunion 2024.

Thanksgiving thoughts…

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

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

We don’t hold his youthful inexperience against him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s comfort in that thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love them all.

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

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

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

But I don’t think we’re an anomaly.

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

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

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

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

Maybe seek out an old buddy or two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They note how strange it is to be 70.

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

We are a decade away.

It’s getting closer and closer.

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

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

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

The Magic of Planting Trees

Community Greening at a recent tree giveaway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Community Greening is a convener.

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

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

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

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

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

If that sounds hokey– so be it.

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

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

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

Gathering as neighbors.

Planting trees.

Educating people.

These acts speak to us.

Our communities need conveners and leaders such as Community Greening.

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

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

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

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

 

The Romance of Journalism

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

I have a famous namesake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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