In Search of Hope & Joy

“Stay gentle, keep the eyes of a child

Don’t harden your heart or your hands

Know to find joy in the darkness is wise

Although they will think you don’t understand

Don’t let the world make you callous

Be ready to laugh

No one’s forgotten about us

There is light on your path

—“Stay Gentle” lyrics by Brandi Carlile

 

This will be my last post for 2021.

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

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

I cherish your feedback and take it all to heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I believe there is.

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

I still have faith.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We can react or we can respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

like a silent drum tapping on every rooftop

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

facing the stars

hope—a new constellation

waiting for us to map it,

waiting for us to name it—together.”

 

 

 

The Ties That Happily Bind

Retired Delray Beach Police Officer Chuck Jeroloman.

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

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

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

I look forward to this dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They do miss it.

And oh, the stories they can tell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It worked.

It all worked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They are invaluable.

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

8 Mayors: We Can Do Better

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

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

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

Get Back Is A Joy

The iconic rooftop concert caps the documentary Get Back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The film leaves you with so many “ifs.”

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

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

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

 

Show A Little Love For SoFla

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We have a lot of good stuff going on here.

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

 

 

Thanksgiving, Values & Love For A Place

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I still love my town.

Let me repeat, I still love my town.

Even if I hate its politics.

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

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

I write because I want to see a better town.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The revitalization of Delray was a big idea too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

In My Life…

StoryWorth is a wonderful gift.

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

It’s called StoryWorth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did you consider other careers?

Which fads did you embrace growing up?

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

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

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

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

How true.

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

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

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

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

Life is a surprise. A wonderful, miraculous surprise.

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

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

Moon River is quite a  song.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

In memoriam

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

 

 

Sometimes you miss…

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

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

I couldn’t make it happen.

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

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

 

Old Friends Are Good For The Soul

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alone We Can Do So Little, Together We Can Do So Much

If I woke up tomorrow and was granted magical powers to make the world a better place, I would ask everyone to sign up for a course on how to collaborate.

Collaboration is the process of two or more people, entities or organizations working together to complete a task or achieve a goal.

Simple concept, right?

It’s also necessary to achieve anything in life.

The poet John Donne said that “no man is an island.” (No woman is either).

The phrase means that no one is truly self-sufficient, everyone must rely on the company and comfort of others to thrive.

Donne’s poem against isolationism was written in the 17th century, so this is not exactly new ground that we are plowing.

But glance at the news these days and you’ll see a failure to collaborate just about everywhere.

Congress and our body politic are divided, not only between Democrats and Republicans, but between moderates and progressives, Trumpers and never Trumpers.

Oddly, the factions and sides need each other to get anything done. But the notion of collaboration, cooperation and compromise is hopelessly lost amidst acrimony and grievance.

As we speak, the world’s leaders are meeting in Scotland to discuss climate change. The poor countries of our world need money (lots of it) from the rich countries to save the planet we all occupy and rely on for survival. But collaboration is elusive and so our planet continues to cook.

The scorecard looks grim: we can’t collaborate to defeat a virus; we can’t collaborate to fix our crumbling infrastructure and we can’t collaborate to meet the challenge of other nation’s conspiring to supplant our role as the world’s pre-eminent superpower. We are too busy fighting each other.

Sigh.

None of these observations are new, prescient, or insightful. But I would argue that things are getting worse not better and that our inability to collaborate makes it nearly impossible to solve problems or seize opportunities.

This is a hyperlocal blog and so I can’t help but apply my observations to my own hometown of Delray Beach.

In short, this city was a place that used to work. We were cooking my friends. Projects got built, initiatives were launched, visions and plans came to life and a place was transformed.

A once dying and dormant downtown became vibrant and successful; new parks were built, others improved, an abandoned school surrounded by a rusted chain link fence became a cultural beacon for the region and the community dug in to create programs and improve neighborhoods. A blighted Second Avenue became Pineapple Grove, events brought fun and commerce to the city and civic pride blossomed.

Why?
In a word; collaboration.

People and organizations worked together.

In every room and at every table where decisions were made, the implicit rule was “put your ego aside, bury your personal differences: Delray comes first.”

I found the community to be largely welcoming and mostly inclusive.  Yes, there were some rooms where I wasn’t welcome (how many times did I hear the words
“damn New Yorkers”) and I know of the city’s fraught racial history (and present, I’m sorry to say). All that did was make me and others want to get involved to make things better.

There were efforts—albeit imperfect— to acknowledge and attempt to improve race relations and civic engagement. People really tried. I believe those efforts were sincere.

Despite some very real headwinds, there was collaboration. City government worked with neighborhood associations, city departments worked with each other and other agencies, the Chamber of Commerce was at the table and so were the key non-profits. Citizens had ample opportunities to weigh in—town hall meetings, charrettes, visioning exercises, goal setting sessions, resident academies, citizen police academies, neighborhood summits, teen summits and the list goes on and on.

Not everyone liked each other.  But by and large—people showed up and Delray came first. Progress was made.

But progress ends when collaboration dies.

When egos clash, when feuds are allowed to get in the way of the mission—the mission gets lost. Eventually those feuds cloud and then obscure the mission until people forget all about it. Settling the score becomes the mission.

And guess what? In politics—unlike war—you never really vanquish the opposition. You may win or lose an election, but your opponent doesn’t go away, they don’t say they are wrong or stop criticizing you. In some cases, they don’t even acknowledge that they lost. And so the cycle continues.

The job of leadership is to find a way forward; to cling to the mission and remind us about the bigger picture and there’s always a bigger picture.

So if you are a Congressman or a Senator, it’s not about hanging a loss on the opposing team, it’s about finding a way to fix our crumbling infrastructure and heal our planet. If you are a mayor or a city commissioner, it’s about finding a way to make sure your city’s assets are protected and enhanced and that new ones are developed so that long after your gone your community is positioned to succeed. It certainly isn’t about wiping an organization off the face of the Earth because it contains a nest of people who didn’t support your campaigns. (See Square, Old School).

These are simple concepts that are being lost. We are at great peril unless and until they are rediscovered.

We need to insist on collaboration, or we’re done. It’s just that simple.

 

Don’t Miss Heart of the Square…

The kickoff to “Arts Season” Begins 6 p.m. Friday, November 5th at Old School Square’s Cornell Museum with a very special event, “The Heart Of The Square”.

Old School Square has touched every corner of the Delray Beach community over the years through their tireless efforts and passion for the arts.

“Heart Of The Square” captures these experiences through a truly inspirational collective of immersive art installations and displays that highlight how Old School Square has been the heart of Delray Beach for over 30 years.

The highlights of the evening will include the “Heart Of The Square” exhibition at the Cornell Art Museum, live music, activities for the kids and a many more surprises.

The evening will be capped off with the unveiling of a new art installation created by world renowned artist and Delray Beach local Jeff Whyman.

The event is free and family friendly.

This is a good chance to relive Delray history and support Old School Square. As readers know, after 32 years, the City Commission in a 3-2 vote, decided to terminate the non-profit’s lease. But despite that kick in the teeth, the non-profit has vowed that the show must go on and the community must be served, proving that there’s a big difference between a community based non-profit and a management company.

Please show your support, OSS needs all of us. And we need OSS.

 

 

The New Wave Is Here…

A weekly dose of goodness.

The Delray Beach Chamber of Commerce is an oasis of warmth and community in what can sometimes feel like an endless sea of negativity.

Like many locals, I’ve been moping about the short-sighted decision to kick Old School Square to the curb after 32 years of service to the community.
But just when you feel like chucking it all and moving to Maine, here comes the Chamber of Commerce to the rescue.

They did the same thing last year, when in the midst of our Covid gloom, they took the time to honor hometown heroes.
That event was a Valentine to the community. A much needed, deeply appreciated Valentine.

This time, the Chamber saved the day with an event at the gorgeous new Ray Hotel that honored local business leaders in an array of categories.
My wife and I were in Maine buying that escape property so we couldn’t attend the event. And then we were off to Polk County to pick up our new puppy so I couldn’t get to the Delray Morning Live Show that celebrated the winners and nominees.

I regret missing these events because I appreciate the Chamber, was honored to be nominated for a community service award, and am a big fan of all the nominees.
These men and women represent the best of this city and serve as a reminder that we can have a bright future. A very bright future if…if we stop tearing things down and start supporting those who are hard at work building the future.

These people are exceptional and they have a passion for Delray Beach that is inspiring.

Let’s start with Jamael Stewart and Amanda Perna, the co-hosts of Delray Morning Live.
The show is simply outstanding and serves as a weekly pick me up for all who watch. The chemistry between the hosts is palpable and so is the positivity. Add in great guests, humor and tons of local information and you have a recipe for success.

Amanda and Jamael are great people. I admire Amanda’s world class design skills and her entrepreneurial chops which includes a retail store “A Little Wyld” and her design business “House of Perna.”

Jamael is a local success story who coaches football, volunteers tirelessly and is a master marketer for local attorney (and all around good guy) Lee Cohen.
Jamael was raised here. He was helped by great mentors like C. Ron Allen and Michael Coleman . He  is proud of Delray. We are proud of you too ,Jamael. And glad that you live and breathe your hometown.

I’m also impressed by Shaun Hall, who runs a company called Viral Vision Marketing.
Shaun is passionate about helping local non-profits and while he’s very humble, be assured he is someone to watch. He’s making an impact. That’s good news, because his heart is in the right place.

Another extraordinary leader is Business Person of the Year Allison Turner of BatCat Media.
Allison is kind, smart and dedicated to this city. And if you don’t follow her on social media, you are missing some great messages and some amazing photos of her long walks through town. I’m so thrilled she won.

There were other worthy winners and nominees: Lionfish, a great new spot from the people at Clique Hospitality and Menin Development, Johnny Mackey of Shamrock Restoration, Robes Law Group, Milagro Center, The Institute for Regional Conservation, Anna Hess and the visionaries behind Masterwing Creative. And let’s not forget Debra Tendrich, a talented non-profit leader with Eat Better, Live Better with a heart for public service.

These are the type of leaders who move the needle.

Entrepreneurial energy is essential to a city’s success.

Entrepreneurs by their nature are creative, passionate and energetic. They embrace risk, have vision and are fueled by a belief that tomorrow can be better than today.

These are the people who move a place forward.

They work hard. They play hard. They love—deeply and when they find a place they fall for they will take you places you never knew existed.

I’m passionate about the dreamers, the doers, the givers and those who support and light the way for these special people.

Way back when, when we dreamed of the future at a visioning event or a community goal setting session, we dreamt that our town would attract and retain people like Amanda, Shaun, Jamael, Allison and so many more.

I, for one, am glad they are here.

They make me bullish about our future.

Yes, we bought that place in Maine because it’s on my bucket list and Covid reminded me that we don’t get to live forever and the sand is flying fast through my personal hourglass.

Even casual readers of this blog (I appreciate you all) know I’ve been profoundly disappointed with some of the recent events in our town. No sense in sugar coating things.
But thanks to organizations like the chamber, I’m excited about the future. I can’t wait to see where our talented young business leaders will take this city. The sky is the limit. I’ve been a believer in Delray since the first time I laid eyes on the place back in 1987.
I still believe.
Yes I do.

Random thoughts:
I found myself deeply moved by the loss of General Colin Powell who died of Covid last week.
I had the privilege of meeting him briefly during a visit he made to Delray years ago. If I remember correctly, he went to the Boys and Girls Club and maybe the Full Service Center. My mom went to high school with him in The Bronx which I used as an icebreaker. He was a warm and friendly man and the kids he visited with that day were in awe. His America’s Promise effort touched a lot of lives thanks to Rita Thrasher and others in Boca. He will be missed.

I watched with a fair degree of nausea a slick video produced by the City of Delray Beach on how the city is saving the day by using Parks employees to staff events the non-profit is no longer equipped to do thanks to the city’s decision to cut off funding and end its lease.
It’s like an arsonist taking credit for putting out the fire they started. Not a good look for new City Manager Terrance Moore to be out front on a wildly unpopular and short sighted decision.
Taxpayers should be asking how much this is costing. I asked a commissioner that question and was told that the manager found “efficiencies”—which is bureaucratese or bs, take your pick. There’s no way these “efficiencies” can be more efficient than having a non-profit provide those services rather than government.
Mr. Moore seems like a kind man.  And I get that he has to carry out the will of a majority of his bosses.

But he would be well served to expand his circle by talking to people who made OSS go for three plus decades. It would serve us and him well if he did so.

On a positive note, one of the best lessons from the life of Colin Powell was his ability to own his mistakes which he did after falsely telling the United Nations that Saddam Hussein had weapons of mass destruction.
When that assertion proved false, General Powell admitted he was wrong. He gained a lot of admirers by doing so. Maybe that kind of character and integrity will return to politics at all levels.