There’s too much “pluribus” and not enough “unum” these days.
Decisions
Conscience & Catalysts
I saw a play in Portland Maine recently, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
The best art is like that. It won’t leave you alone.
“Conscience” by Joe DiPietro tells the story of the battle between Maine Senator Margaret Chase Smith and the notorious Senator Joe McCarthy.
It’s a riveting history. But it’s also sadly relevant today.
“Conscience” shows us how a brave Senator– the first woman to serve in both the House and the Senate– stood up to a demagogue who gleefully ruined lives through disinformation, lies and bullying.
Back then it was the fear of communism. Today you can take your pick of things used to whip up fear and emotion.
Predictably, politicians in the McCarthy era valued their careers over their country and the truth. They despised McCarthy but they wouldn’t stand up to him for fear of losing their seats.
This is how real and lasting damage occurs. When we look the other way, when we wait for others to do something or when we give our assent through our silence or just as bad join in and spread more lies.
Injury occurs when we support those who exhibit abhorrent behavior.
Margaret Chase Smith did none of those things. She spoke truth to power. Her conscience wouldn’t let her be silent.
I learned a lot about our history and our present during those two hours at the Portland Stage, a gorgeous old theater with a rich history of producing landmark works.
Sitting in the dark I got swept up in the drama marveling at the performances, the story, the brilliant writing. There is nothing like live theatre.
And when the show ended, all we wanted to do was talk about what we had just seen and how it relates to the world we live in today.
It’s a dreadful time in America. It really is. So much anxiety. So much vitriol. So many lies and half-truths. So much hatred. You can feel it in the air. You can taste it and it’s bitter. We are no longer united and it feels awful.
According to a recent poll cited by the Aspen Institute, 58 percent of Americans believe our best years are behind us.
That’s a staggering and depressing statistic because America has always been focused on and excited about the future. A future we were leading with optimism.
Both parties embraced the future: “It’s morning in America.” “Hope and Change.”
Now we “lead” with words like “vermin” and “unhinged.”
We’ve lost faith in our institutions. We’ve lost faith in each other.
We lack leaders and as a result we are at risk of wrecking a remarkable country.
Both sides of the divide don’t agree on much these days, but we seem to agree that we are broken, polarized and at risk.
The author Frank Bruni calls it a crisis of confidence—a disease of pessimism in a country built on optimism. Bruni calls it a “violent rupture of our national psyche.”
Indeed.
Which is why “Conscience” the play resonates so deeply. We long to see our leaders stand for something.
Watching Margaret Chase Smith take on Joe McCarthy was gratifying.
Every bully has it coming. Every bully is driven by fear. And every bully will take your lunch money until you stand your ground and say no more.
Those that stand up to bullies pay a price. Their noses get bloodied, but their causes are noble and at the end of the day history treats them kindly. That should matter.
Nobody remembers the sycophants. Nobody.
But they remember those who stand up for what’s right. We remember those whose conscience drives them to do the right thing. We call it character. We call it integrity. We long for these heroes. They make all the difference.
Nobody remembers the sycophants. Nobody.
We do however remember the monsters—they should serve as cautionary tales not to be repeated. And we remember the heroes and heroines—those who stand for something. Those who lead with love and courage.
Those with conscience.
Catalysts
The Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation honored two community heroes last week at a luncheon at the wonderful Farmer’s Table in Boca Raton.
We officially presented the “Catalyst Award” to Ted Hoskinson of Roots and Wings and Julia Kadel of the Miracle League. The award is in honor of our late founder.
Mr. DeSantis was a catalyst. He made good things happen and he led with generosity and courage.
The award is loosely modeled on the MacArthur Foundation “genius grant.” Like that award, you can’t apply for our prize, your work speaks for itself. Foundation staff and the board honor two people a year with a no-strings cash award and a luncheon celebrating their achievements. We also gather the two dozen organizations we are supporting to honor their work in our community.
It’s a fun and meaningful afternoon. We’ve seen our grantees walk out with new friends and collaborators and it gives us great pleasure to see these relationships form. We have a great community, and we have great people who devote their lives to helping others.
In my view, these are the real leaders in our world. Running a nonprofit is infinitely harder than running a business. I’ve been involved with both and while business is tough and complex, nonprofit work is loaded with complications and nuance. But the best nonprofits lead with love. They make miracles happen.
So, when you gather these special people together it’s magical. You can feel the power in the room, and you can’t help but be moved by the compassion they have for others.
We support organizations that are swinging for the fences.
We do this because that’s what our founder Mr. DeSantis did.
When I got involved in his world in 2008, our world was falling apart. The financial crisis was threatening to sink the economy. I had no idea that Carl would be the force he would become in my life. But when he recruited me to help with a beverage company he had discovered—a small but promising brand named Celsius—he exuded optimism about the future. He made all of us in his universe believe that we could conquer the world and slay the giants who were around every corner waiting to smack us down.
I found an email Carl sent me from back then; when I decided to listen to my heart and take a chance on this guy.
“I’m not in this for Cracker Jack prizes,” he wrote about Celsius. “This is going to be big.”
And years later—after all sorts of adversity—it was.
Carl believed. Always.
That’s what we look for in our Catalyst Award winners and our nonprofit partners.
There’s Mark Sauer—a retired executive who ran MLB and NHL teams—who “retired” to Delray Beach and decided to change the lives of impoverished children through Bound for College.
There’s Erin Hogan who runs Her Second Chance in Boca Raton, giving women in recovery the chance to learn skills and rebuild their lives.
We just welcomed Lynne Kunins and the magnificent team at FLIPANY to our Foundation family.
FLIPANY feeds thousands of nutritious meals to kids and seniors at scores of sites throughout South Florida while teaching them about health, fitness and how to cook healthy. Lynne is a social entrepreneur who overcame addiction, poverty, hunger and attempted suicide with physical fitness and nutrition. She’s an inspiration. A community builder. She’s been doing this for 20 years and she wants to take this nationwide. I have no doubt she will.
The night after our Catalyst Lunch, we went to the Kravis Center for a FLIPANY event called “Chef’s Up Front.” Talented chefs from throughout our region gathered to raise funds for FLIPANY’s many programs. It was heartening to see the love and passion in the room. Food and nutrition connect us as people.
When we visited two sites to see FLIPANY serve nutritious meals to hungry and poor children, many of them from immigrant communities, I was struck by the beauty of this simple act. There are people who villainize others and there are those who love others. Most of us walk by and pretend that we don’t see what’s right in front of our eyes–that’s a violent act too in so many ways. I know which group I want to belong to. I know which group I want to help.
Which brings me to this year’s Catalysts.
Julia Kadel and Ted Hoskinson are personal heroes of mine and many others. For 20 years Julia and her husband Jeff and their army of volunteers have built community by enabling children of all abilities to play our national pastime. My goodness, baseball is a beautiful game. They call their effort the Miracle League and indeed it is a miracle. The love they have for community is miraculous and powerful.
Ted’s Roots and Wings honors teachers and helps children become good readers. Ted and his team are changing lives. If you can’t read, you can’t succeed. Ted’s mission is to leave no child behind. It’s a beautiful way to spend a life.
I can go on. And I will because our Foundation has only just begun.
I invite you to join us. I write this hoping that you will find a way to help heal a broken world. Please transcend the ugliness of the present moment by getting involved in activities that build a better future.
Unity over division, love over hate, generosity over greed, truth over lies. Light not darkness.
A Sentence Can Change Your Life
Four words that change your life: “you have Parkinson’s Disease.”
Football great Brett Favre heard those four words recently. In Favre’s case, he links his diagnosis to the multitude of concussions he suffered during a long and storied NFL career. There’s a price to pay for glory. A price to pay for the riches–and the hits–he received.
A day before Favre’s disclosure during a Congressional hearing, a report was released that found that a third of former professional football players believe they have chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE) , a degenerative brain disease that cannot be diagnosed in living people.
According to CNN, findings from the Boston University CTE Center suggest that playing football might increase the risk of developing Parkinson’s disease.
Using data from a large online survey sponsored by the Michael J. Fox Foundation, researchers found that participants who had a history of playing organized tackle football were 61% more likely to report a Parkinson’s disease diagnosis or “parkinsonism”, an umbrella term for symptoms like tremors and rigidity that cause movement problems, compared with those who played other organized sports.
The report, published in the medical journal JAMA Network Open, also found that participants who played football at higher levels — professionally or in college — were nearly three times as likely to have Parkinson’s or parkinsonism compared with those who played at the youth or high school levels.
But you don’t have to be a football player to get Parkinson’s. I know. Parkinson’s has touched my family and ever since we heard those four words our lives have been forever altered.
I wake up thinking about Parkinson’s and I go to sleep thinking about Parkinson’s.
Don’t get me wrong, my family and I are fortunate and have a wonderful life. Those four words will not get in the way of being grateful for all that we’ve been given and all that we’ve worked for.
But those four words–and it could be a variation, ”you have breast cancer” or “you have heart disease”—change things. For me personally, “you have Covid and pneumonia” (5 words) changed my life –and nearly took my life–in 2020.
Time becomes more precious. Doctor’s visits are no longer routine, long term plans are no longer as certain.
Serious diagnoses have a way of focusing the mind. They reorder priorities, they cannot be ignored.
Still, I’ve learned that mindset is important.
There’s a quote that I think about often and want to share. I’ve found it helpful, and I hope you do too.
“An entire sea of water can’t sink a ship unless it gets inside the ship. Similarly, the negativity of the world can’t put you down unless you allow it to get inside you”- Goi Nasu
We try not to let the water get inside us. But sometimes the boat springs a leak. Sometimes we “go there” and that can make for some dark moments. We just can’t stay there.
We have to cling to hope and when hope fades we always have faith.
The Cafe On Main
My play “The Cafe on Main” was performed on stage yesterday before a sold-out house at the magnificent Delray Beach Playhouse.
Words cannot describe the feeling of sitting in an audience and watching talented actors bring your words and vision to life. Under the outstanding direction of Marianne Regan, the cast crushed it. They are so talented, so caring, and so generous. I’m at a loss to describe the feeling other than to say I’ve been bitten by the drama bug and I want to write more stories for the stage.
Writing can be a lonely exercise. You sit in front of a blank screen and struggle to make sense of the world. Then you hit send and have no idea how your words are received. I’m thankful for those of you who share your feedback about this blog with me; your insights shape me but I don’t see your faces, I can’t tell if my words are landing.
But getting that feedback in real time is a whole other experience. Watching a director and actors add to your vision and make it better than you could imagine is magical.
I’m grateful to the Delray Beach Playhouse for giving new playwrights an opportunity to learn, an opportunity to shine. They have created a safe place for creativity to blossom and I can honestly say the experience has changed my life. I’ve spoken to a few of my fellow playwrights and they share that gratitude. The Delray Beach Playhouse is a gem. The talent here is off the charts–I was just blown away by the acting, direction and staging of these new plays. So was the audience—whew!
I have a few ideas for future works cooking in my brain. It’s good to know that my local playhouse appreciates dreamers like me. My heart is full.
The Magic of Theater, The Magic of Trying
A few months back, I wrote about a New Play Festival sponsored by the wonderful Delray Beach Playhouse.
The Choice
A friend of mine— who shall go nameless lest we boost his ego—took a plane trip recently.
He sat next to a rabbi, and they had a long conversation about politics and the world we live in.
It was a civil conversation. A friendly discussion despite their many differences, proof that such a thing is possible even in this charged environment we find ourselves living in.
Sometimes I feel we’re trapped, talking past each other, with views cemented in one camp or the other with each camp viewing the other as an existential threat.
It’s no fun.
But my friend said he enjoyed his conversation with the rabbi. I think they may have even exchanged phone numbers so they could stay in touch and continue the dialogue.
That’s a healthy development, I thought. But I was troubled by something my friend told me and I can’t stop thinking about it. The rabbi said my friend was too idealistic.
I have to think about that one.
Too idealistic; it’s kind like being too kind. Is there such a thing? And is idealism bad?
My friend’s mid-air meet-up with a rabbi got me thinking about a recent podcast I listened to that talked about the death of idealism. Comedian Trevor Noah was interviewing the best-selling author Simon Sinek, who I think hangs the moon.
Mr. Sinek wrote the classic “Start With Why: How Great Leaders Inspire Action.”
It’s a classic book. A true must read.
Sinek defines the “Why” as your purpose, cause, or belief. It explains why your business or organization exists, but it’s also a good way to approach life. What’s your why?
Anyway, during the conversation with Noah, Simon Sinek shared that idealism seems to be getting lost and that many of today’s prominent leaders have adopted a hard-bitten approach to their work.
The comment made me think of the scene in the movie “A Few Good Men” when the Jack Nicholson character, under intense questioning by a prosecutor played by Tom Cruise, says “you don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall.”
Well, that’s what I’m talking about; this notion that we live in a tough world where’s there’s no room for idealism. Indeed, idealism gets equated with naivete and that can be dangerous.
It’s a good argument. We live in a dangerous world, with lots of bad actors who do heinous things.
But I’m not ready to abandon idealism. I think we need more of it. Idealism provides a path forward. Consequently, cynicism or a belief that conditions can never change guarantee that they won’t.
Again, I turn to Simon Sinek:
“Pure pragmatism can’t imagine a bold future. Pure idealism can’t get anything done. It’s when the two cooperate that magic happens.”
Aha!
That’s it. We need a balance between dreams and reality. But we can’t abandon our dreams, we can’t forsake our ideals.
Sinek believes that many of our leaders have lost their idealism, that our leaders have stopped dreaming. He asks us to imagine what the world would look like if leaders dreamt about world peace. He says it sounds corny to say it out loud, because we are so far from that ideal and that’s sad isn’t it?
But if we think world peace is a corny idea, something is very wrong.
If we think that our nation cannot be united, it’s terribly sad and we resign ourselves to endless strife.
“Absent idealism,” Sinek says. “All we do is look for right or wrong. Absent idealism, we no longer see ourselves on the same team in pursuit of the dream. We see each other in opposition to me being right or you being wrong.”
Right about now the song “Imagine” is going through my head…”you may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one.”
I’m starting to believe that half the people reading this piece would say I’m corny and cheesy (guilty as charged and that extends to my taste in music, bring on the schmaltz) but like John Lennon said: “I’m not the only one.”
I believe in optimism—always.
I believe in idealism—always. Pragmatic idealism.
I’m sure the rabbi is a good man, learned and kind. But my understanding of our religion is that idealism and service is at its core. I understand, looking at the Middle East today and our own vicious politics, that it is hard to be an idealist in 2024. So hard.
But the key to a better future is to transcend. For any endeavor to be successful, we must transcend and get to a different place where other outcomes are at least possible.
I’m going to tell my friend to hang on to his idealism…cling to it like a buoy in rough seas. Make sure to be pragmatic but hang on to your dreams.
Don’t stop dreaming that things can be better. You may be a dreamer but you’re not the only one.
Looking at Boca…
Last week, I wrote about some of the amazing things happening in West Palm Beach.
I touched briefly on Boca Raton, but I realized that there is more to talk about when it comes to Boca.
It’s funny, when you’ve been the mayor of a neighboring city, people get antsy when you say something nice about another community. One time– way past my “sell by” date— I rode on a float with the Mayor of Lake Worth Beach in the Delray holiday parade.
On the float, I was given a t-shirt touting Lake Worth. It read something like this: “Lake Worth, Making Delray Nervous for 100 years.” I thought the message was cute and complimentary of Delray because it hints that our town is an ideal that others strive to match.
But apparently I hit a nerve and a local gadfly went after me on Facebook as if I defected to Cuba and declared my love for communism. Oh well…
As they say in NY…tough noogies. I like Lake Worth Beach. Always have, always will.
Anyway, Boca has been a friendly rival of Delray for years—with the emphasis on friendly.
Way back when, I debated then Boca Mayor Steven Abrams about the merits of both cities. We squared off in the atrium of a Boca office building and had a great time. The Boca News (rest in peace) even put us on the cover in boxing gear.
It’s always good when we can approach life with a sense of humor. National politicians should take note: just like Boca and Delray aren’t enemies, Americans shouldn’t be at war with each other either.
But let’s avoid the national mess and revisit Boca Raton, which is nearing its 100th birthday as a city in 2025.
I had the pleasure of attending a half-day CityLead leadership conference recently at Boca Raton Community Church. CityLead is a monthly event that attracts a wide variety of local leaders. Pastor Bill Mitchell has been leading this effort for a decade and it’s wonderful. Check it out, I promise you won’t regret it: https://citylead.com/boca/
Once a year, they do a half-day conference and I was finally able to attend as a guest of 4Kids of South Florida, a wonderful nonprofit that partners with the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation.
It was a great day with lots of highlights and lots of takeaways that I’m still processing.
But one segment I got right away.
It was a 15-minute panel featuring Boca Raton Mayor Scott Singer, City Councilman Andy Thomson and Boca Chamber CEO Troy McClellan.
In that short period of time, these three civic leaders touted why they love Boca Raton. They talked about the city’s business development efforts (39 publicly traded companies call Boca home), the quality of life, the fact that young people are flocking to the city for jobs (the median age of Boca is getting younger and is now 47) and how the city seems to have “aspiration” in its DNA. From Addison Mizner’s dream, to the brave soldiers who once called Boca home during World War II, from the IBM era to today’s thriving economy Boca Raton has it going on and these leaders were beaming with civic pride.
But they talked about the “soft stuff” too. Councilman Thomson spoke passionately about an effort to promote neighborliness and how he plans to work with homeowner associations and community organizations to encourage people to check in with their neighbors. Mayor Singer talked about the people who come to Boca and find ways to serve and engage. My friend Troy talked about community institutions such as the 75-year-old chamber, trusted nonprofits like the George Snow Scholarship Fund and the fact that even with 103,000 people Boca still feels like a community.
Pastor Mitchell noted that the speakers filled the air with positivity about Boca and never talked about the wonderful beaches, beautiful parks and A-rated schools. In other words, Boca has lots of good stuff.
I felt the civic pride and during a break I caught up with Mayor Singer. He was approached by several people who expressed their love of Boca, including one young woman who graduated from Boca High, went to the University of Florida and came home to work in advertising. She told the mayor she wanted to be the next generation of leadership in the city.
That short conversation captured everything—the holy grail of community building. You want young people to feel excited about their hometown. You want people to fall in love with a place and dedicate themselves to making it better.
Troy, Andy, Scott and Bill Mitchell all mentioned being stewards of their special city. They showed respect to past leaders who built an awesome place, and they saw their roles as making their city better.
Now I’m sure some don’t like growth; others can’t stand the traffic and still others lament the changes that have occurred. No place is perfect, and no place is perfect for everyone. But cities are not museums, they change, they evolve and if you work hard and are intentional they change for the better. But some things should never change: respect for the past, nurturing a sense of community, caring for others and creating opportunity for future generations.
What I saw at CityLead and what I know from watching and doing business in Boca for a long time is that it’s a strong city with lots of valuable assets and anchors. All those anchors and assets matter—the universities, the businesses, the parks, the beach, the schools, the nonprofits and the places of worship—but the most valuable resource is always the people who call a place home.
People provide leadership, pride of place and aspiration.
Boca has it. And they appreciate what they have.
Mercury Morris
Dolphins great Mercury Morris died over the weekend at the age of 77.
Mr. Morris was a talented running back who won two Super Bowls with the Dolphins in the 70s and was on the team that had the “perfect season.”
Post football he had some legal issues that were eventually tossed and he became a well-traveled public speaker. As a rookie journalist in Binghamton N.Y. in the mid 80s, I had a chance to interview Mr. Morris when he visited Broome County Community College. He was my first “celebrity” interview and I was really nervous to meet him. In short order, I had a chance to meet and interview MASH actor Mike Farrell and Watergate figure G. Gordon Liddy. Farrell was wonderful, Liddy was… let’s say… colorful. But Mercury Morris helped to put these interviews in perspective for me. I remember him as being kind, intelligent and determined to share his story with young people.
I am a football fan so that was common ground and I got to ask him about the famed back field he was part of alongside Jim Kiick and Larry Csonka.
I still have the “clip” from that interview and I used the piece as part of my collection of clips to apply for jobs in South Florida. I liked how the interview turned out and I figured that editors would me more interested in the NFL than my stories about whether there should be a solid waste facility in Vestal, N.Y. or rural Conklin.
Rest well Mercury and thanks for the memories. What a football player. He was electric.
We Love Our Catalysts…
It doesn’t feel right to mislead a friend.
But sometimes—if there’s a good reason— I suppose you can make an exception.
So, when I called Julia Kadel and told her I wanted to get together to discuss “Delray stuff”, I was telling a white lie. But I had a good reason.
Let me explain.
But first, if the name Julia Kadel rings a bell, here’s why. Julia and her husband Jeff are the founders of the Miracle League of Palm Beach County. For two decades, the Kadel’s and a team of volunteers have given every child with special needs the opportunity to play baseball.
The Kadel’s started right here in Delray Beach. In 2005, they came to the City Commission and pitched a vision to build a field for all children at Miller Park. I was mayor at the time. I remember how excited our City Commission was to help.
Julia and Jeff were watching TV one night and saw a news segment about special needs children playing baseball. They decided—then and there– that this would be their family’s heartfelt mission. They made it happen and along the way have touched countless lives.
Julia is a catalyst, someone who makes good things happen. And that’s why I called her and invited her to my office to discuss “Delray stuff.”
But the real reason was to surprise Julia by naming her a winner of the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation’s “Catalyst Award.” The award is given to people who exhibit Carl’s spirit of taking action and making good things happen.
You can’t apply for this award, those of us at the Foundation survey the community and look for people who are doing amazing things.
Winners are given cash awards for their nonprofits and are honored at a luncheon in October courtesy of the Foundation.
Last year, the first year of the award, we honored Pastor Bill Mitchell for his work with CityLead and we also honored Danny Pacheco of the Delray Beach Police Department for creating Delray Kicks, a youth soccer program that has built magical inroads with immigrant communities that may not trust law enforcement.
Our other 2024 winner is Ted Hoskinson, the founder of “Roots and Wings”, a wonderful nonprofit that tutors students and recognizes the amazing work done by teachers.
Ted is a catalyst. Someone who saw a need and works passionately and relentlessly to fill it.
Mr. Hoskinson has a heart for teachers because he was one. He taught at St. Albans School in Washington, D.C., his alma mater.
Although Ted did not make teaching his life-long vocation, he has always cared deeply about elementary education. With his wife Anne, Ted decided that their joint legacy would be to establish and fund a charity to focus on children in need with the mission of improving their lives through education and encouraging strong, cohesive families.
Anne passed away in April 2016. In her honor, Ted began the mission they conceived together. Anne wanted to call the charity “Roots and Wings,” and the non-profit was officially established as a 501(c)(3) organization under that name.
In the ensuing years, Ted and his team have touched countless lives and this year they expect to serve 1,300 students in Palm Beach County. We have watched the effort grow from its humble origins in Delray, into a countywide organization making a profound impact.
This award means the world to us at the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation because it allows us to celebrate the spirit of our founder and honor those who are making a real difference in our community.
Like Carl– who loved delighting people he cared about– we like to surprise winners with the award.
Last year, we showed up at their workplaces with the news—and a check. This year, we worked with key people in the lives of our catalysts to gather friends and board members at one of our offices. We told a white lie to get them there, but then we opened the door to a conference room celebration.
Julia and Ted were very surprised.
And when I saw Julia’s shocked look, I felt momentarily guilty. I assured her what was happening was a good thing– a great thing actually– and how happy we were to say thanks to a community hero who has enriched so many lives.
My favorite part of this year’s announcement was the “circle of praise” we created (courtesy of my Foundation colleague Maritza Benitez) in which we had everyone in the room share why they adore Julia and Ted. (These were separate surprise events, but we will bring our Catalysts together at the luncheon).
To see the love in the room, the stories of gratitude and respect for these special people created something that’s hard to describe.
Julia and Ted are building community. Julia through baseball. Ted by recognizing unsung (and underpaid) teachers and by helping students create a better future through education.
These are the Catalysts that make our community special.
Special thanks to Jeff Kadel and Roots and Wings board member Joycelyn Patrick for making the day possible.
There were tears and lots of laughter. We left the room feeling blessed for having these special Catalysts in our world. They fill our hearts with joy and gratitude.
On Turning 60
“The file labeled me isn’t finished.”
I saw that sentence somewhere recently and I wrote it down a few hours later because I couldn’t let go of the thought.
I don’t remember where I saw those words, but they spoke to me like the best sentences do.
I just turned 60. Today.
It’s a number. Quite a number. There’s more road behind me than ahead, but still it’s just a number.
It feels like you blink and decades of your life flies by.
Childhood, high school, college, first job, marriage, kids, career—love and loss. Laughter and tears.
Plenty of laughter, plenty of tears.
I think many of us live on three planes—the past, the present and the future.
We reflect and we remember. We take the day to day as it comes. We meet our deadlines and we strive to honor our commitments. We decide what to leave in and we decide what to leave out. We try and think ahead. We invest our hopes in a better tomorrow.
That hopeful mindset is how I navigate the world. I look back fondly and often, I try to be present and I dream about tomorrow.
But when you hit 60, there’s a shift. Tomorrow— which is never guaranteed — is here.
Earlier this year, my friend Randy sent me a chart with rows of chairs -10 across- representing each decade of life.
There are 8 rows that most of us feel we can be around to experience, the 9th row is in red, because making it beyond 90 is tough.
That chart has both haunted and focused me ever since he sent it.
I just entered the 6th row. There are only a few rows left —if I’m lucky. Moreover, within those rows is the logical conclusion that the age I am now will be better than the years ahead. I’ve been told by older friends that aging isn’t for sissies. I believe it.
But there’s something liberating about this stage of life.
I find myself happy with where I’ve been and where I’m at. I take joy in those I love. I’m surrounded by friends, have meaningful work and feel pretty good.
I’ve decided to let some things go, try a few new things and spend as much time enjoying the goodness in this world. And there plenty of goodness in this world.
Give me family, friends, pets, music, a good book and good conversation. I don’t need things but I want and crave experiences. And I want to make time for what’s important. As my friend Scott Porten says..we’ve got things to do.
For me, that’s time with my wife and best friends, visits with my children, travel to a few places, time in Maine, writing and learning all I can because this world fascinates me.
I’m also going to remain involved in the world via the Carl Angus DeSantis Foundation, which is the most inportant work I’ve done in my life. To find this kind of work as a career capper has been a blessing. Philanthropy has reawakened my passion for trying to make my corner of the world a better place. That I get to do this work with a wonderful teammate, a supportive board and in the name of a man who changed my life is an honor and a blessing. Carl DeSantis was so good to me and to so many others. I miss him beyond words.
I’m at an age where I’m sometimes asked for advice. And truth be told, I’m flattered and I always want to help but I’ve lived such an unconventional life that I feel I can’t offer a recipe, only a template.
Say yes to things that scare you.
Try new things, it’s ok to fail as long as you learn.
Surround yourself with people who lift you up, fulfill you and inspire you.
Try and see others and encourage them. Dare to love passionately. You will suffer more than a few broken hearts but you will survive and love again.
Everything I just wrote is a cliche. But it’s all true.
When I left college I got a newspaper job, I barely knew what I was doing and I was intimidated by the veterans that commanded the newsroom.
Newspaper reporters are great characters, and this group seemed so competent and confident. They were grizzled, and I was young, naive and far from confident. But I faked it until I made it. I listened, I learned, I threw myself into the job and studied the greats sitting near me and working in other newsrooms and in time I got better.
When I went into business for myself, I was terrified. But I figured it out —in time.
When I went into politics, I was way, way over my skies but I joined a team that nurtured me and made me look like I knew what I was doing–at least some of the time.
Post politics I helped start a magazine, briefly owned part of a newspaper (a longtime dream), worked with a dear friend in public relations, did a lot of consulting work and freelance writing and then ran into a legendary entrepreneur who changed my life and asked me to help him with a little beverage company he believed in by the name of Celsius.
I wrote two books, a play, this blog, stayed with Carl’s family office and went into real estate and a slew of other businesses ranging from a hot sauce to whatever else caught my friends eye. What a ride!
And I was unprepared for all of it. I made all sorts of mistakes and invented a few along the way. But each day I woke up and vowed to do better.
Now we are diving into philanthropy in a big way, because big is what Carl was about. He roared like a lion- literally. But he was humble too.
I tell my partner at the foundation that we are building the plane while flying it. We don’t know what we don’t know.
But isn’t that wonderful ? Isn’t that life?
I’ve been blessed.
And if it all ends tomorrow I’ve lived a good life.
Hopefully it won’t end quite yet and while I have great faith that there is something beyond this, I guess we really don’t know. But that’s one area I do have confidence in, I’ve found living proof. I’ve seen things, glimpses of something beyond. I know there’s meaning to this life. I’m keeping the faith.
The file is not closed on any of us if we learning from the past, believe in the present and focus on the future.
Thanks for reading and allowing me to share my life with you.