On Turning 60

My wife and a dedicated team of bakers, icers and friends made these. They are delicious.

“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.

Oldies But Goodies

Phil Mickelson, a champion at 50.

Let’s hear it for the old folks.

Maybe they’re not so old after all.

Or maybe age and experience is an advantage and not a liability.

Look no further than Phil Mickelson who just won the 103rd PGA Championship at the ripe age of 50. Or Tom Brady who won yet another Super Bowl at the age of 44.

Or President Biden who became leader of the free world at age 78.

Other examples abound in every field you can imagine: Dr. Tony Fauci is 80 and has been at the forefront of the fight against Covid, Queen Elizabeth is still reigning at age 95 and Warren Buffett remains an investing legend at 90. His partner, Charlie Munger, is 97 and still at it.

I have a rooting interest in the continuing viability of the older set. I’ll be 57 in August. Granted that’s a long way from 90 but it’s comforting to know that there’s life after a certain age.

I have found the 50s to be a poignant decade.

In many ways we are better than ever. We’ve got patience, experience, history, perspective and savvy that can only come with age and hard won experience.

We’ve also got more than a few miles on us so we are a wee bit tired at times and we know how fast time passes. We’ll blink and be 80 if we’re fortunate to survive. And that’s the poignant part.

Just when we get good, we get old.

But the Mickelson’s and the Brady’s of the world inspire us. It’s getting dark, but it ain’t over yet as the song says.

Still despite these inspiring examples we are very much a youth obsessed culture.

We adore the prodigy, laud the next big thing and remain obsessed with appearing youthful.

But I’m finding the seasoned players in this world have a lot to give and even more to impart.

I think we “old timers” can learn a thing or two from Phil and other folks who are crushing it as they age.

The first lesson is we can stay in the game if we choose. We might have to compensate for being a step slower than we used to be. We might not hit the ball as far as the youngsters or zip a football with the same velocity, but we’ve experienced a whole lot and that’s an advantage.

We can take comfort in the fact that we’ve seen most situations before and we know how to make the odds work for us.

It’s called being seasoned.

If you are a smart young person, you should seek out the elders in your community. You should hear their stories, soak up their experiences and listen to the wisdom you are assured of receiving if you just take the time to ask some simple questions.

What was it like?

Why did you make the decisions you made?

What did you learn? How did you get past your mistakes?

How did you run your company, build your business, raise your family, serve your community?

There is so much to learn. The best school there is right in front of us. All we have to do is ask others to share.

Whatever success I’ve had in anything I’ve ever done—-business, politics, love and family life is a direct result of asking for advice from people I’ve admired. Most of them were my elders. My grandparents, my parents.

At Delray City Hall, I was mentored by an extraordinary array of department heads and staff who took the time to explain issues to me, teach me about urban planning, police work, the work of the fire department and how municipal law and redevelopment can be applied to build something special.

After a while you leave– in my case due to term limits—but I never left those relationships behind. I treasure them and regularly draw on the lessons I learned.

But as magical as those teachers were, I learned just as much from some predecessors who served on the City Commission and a bunch more from a slew of community leaders who built this city. From Old School Square and Pineapple Grove to the Spady Museum and local schools these special people did special things. They made a lasting difference and left us lessons— but only if we choose to look and to ask for guidance.

The same lessons apply in business which is changing so fast that it can feel overwhelming to keep up with technology and trends. But there are fundamentals that never change: how you treat partners. employees, customers and the communities in which you work. The seasoned veterans have learned these lessons and I have found that most are happy to share if you take the time to ask for advice.

In business, I have been so fortunate to learn from a series of older mentors including one gentleman who has helped to build two multi billion dollar companies.

Recently, a friend told me about the Halftime Institute, a non-profit built on a belief that the second half of life can be better than the first. I plan to explore a few of their programs and read their literature.

Yes, life in your 50s and beyond can be both meaningful and fun.

Sure those knees creak, that back aches and your hair may be gone (on your head at least) but there’s life in those bones and wisdom too. There’s also time to grab a few more brass rings (or Super Bowl rings). Thanks Mr. Mickelson for reminding us.

 

 

 

 

 

Grateful: For ALL Of It

Today is my birthday.

I’m 55.

Eligible to move to 55 and over communities and edging closer to coveted senior discounts at movies and places like the Old Country Buffet.

I’m already eligible for 10 percent off at Banana Republic and 15 percent off at Bealls Outlet but only on Tuesdays, when I’m working and unable to get to an outlet.

But I digress.

Birthdays with 0’s and 5’s get progressively tougher.

Oh, 20 and 25 are cool.

But 30 and 40 and 50 are really rough. I enjoyed 35—thought that was kind of the perfect age, just the right amount of seasoning. But 45 induced a twinge of mortality and this birthday brings a mix of emotions.

When you hit your 50s you start to feel a little more comfortable with who you are. The little things don’t bother you as much and you learn to avoid toxic people. You learn not to feed negativity.

You also learn to appreciate the good times, the good people and the love in your life.

Good friends become more precious. Good times and laughter more valued.

Experiences take precedence over “things.”

It’s a good time of life.

By the time most people reach their 50s they have experienced a whole lot.

Love, loss, joy, sadness, parenthood, career successes, career setbacks and everything in between.

What makes the 50s so poignant is this feeling that in so many ways you are at the top of your game.

You have perspective, knowledge and hard fought experience. But you can also see the end game.

It sounds morbid and hopefully its decades away, but you realize how life is a blur and how time seems to fly.

My best buddy from childhood texted me some old photos while I was writing this. Some cannot be shared, taken when we were young and somewhat foolish as young men should be (within limits) which we managed to always observe.

Some were from high school graduation and others were from a trip we took to visit his parents in Arizona which dovetailed with my 30th birthday. I blinked and 25 years passed.

Looking at that photo of us standing in 100 degree plus heat at the Pima Air Museum with his dad Mickey brought a smile to my face and a catch to my throat. Mickey is gone and I really loved him. So is my mom and she was the world to all of us. Both were around back then—in fact they were about the age we are now.

In 1994, I was a father to a four year old and a two year old. Now my oldest is turning 30 and is well into a teaching career and my little boy is an accountant who advises me on my taxes.

So there’s a lot of pride at this point in your life—you get to see your kids succeed and your friends do some amazing things in their lives and careers. A buddy of mine just sold his company for a mind blowing number and will be sailing the world and others are climbing the ladder of success or retiring after really making a mark.

But we’ve also lost some classmates and been touched by disease. Happy hour discussions these days range from politics, movies, sports (the usual) to prostate health and various aches and pains. Sometimes we pass mirrors and wonder who the old guy is that’s staring back at us.

But if you look closer you also see wisdom and depth. Hair lines recede but knowledge grows.

A few weeks ago, CNN’s Anderson Cooper did an interview with comedian Stephen Colbert that got quite a bit of attention.

Colbert lost his father and two brothers in an airplane crash when he was 10 years old. It was a crushing life defining loss.

“I was personally shattered,” he says. “And then you reform yourself in this quiet, grieving world that was created in [your] house.”

But as a religious man he found the strength to forge a life making other people laugh.

Cooper, who recently lost his mother, was visibly moved by Colbert’s response.

He asks Colbert, “You [once] said, ‘What punishment of God’s are not gifts?’ Do you really believe that?”

To which Colbert replies, “Yes. It’s a gift to exist and with existence comes suffering. There’s no escaping that.”

Regarding his losses, Colbert says, “I don’t want it to have happened. I want it to not have happened. But if you’re grateful for your life — and I’m not always — then you have to be grateful for all of it.”

You have to be grateful for all of it. What a wonderful belief.

Loss and the prospect of an end can make you love more deeply. It can help you develop a greater understanding of other people and life itself.

So yes, 0’s and 5’s can be tough if all you think about is aging, loss and your own mortality. But if I have learned one thing in my 55 years it is to be aware of the lessons that life is trying to teach you. The universe or a higher power sends messages all the time if we care to be alert to them.

It could be a cardinal in your backyard or it could be an interview with a comedian you admire who reminds you to be grateful for all of it.

Be grateful for all of it.

And I am.

 

 

Western Stars

The songs tell the stories of loved lost, failure, hard living and longing. But somehow they are tinged with hope.

Bruce Springsteen released a new album last week and for me that’s always a reason to celebrate.

But this album, his 19th studio album, is something extra special for a few reasons.

First, it’s just really good.

The songs are beautifully crafted, the lyrics are packed with meaning and the album includes oboes, bassoons, French horns and other instruments rarely used on a Springsteen album. He’s evolving and I find that not only interesting but inspirational as well.

The reason this album has extra resonance is that it is being released three months before Bruce’s 70th birthday. That’s an age where most musicians are long past their prime and decades beyond their creative peak.

But there he is, still exploring, still pushing boundaries, still growing. And I find that awe-inspiring.

The best artists are those whose work seem to run parallel to our lives—as if they are somehow writing with us in mind. Of course, that’s not true, but the magic comes because their words and music remain relevant to where we are in life.

I’ve grown up with Bruce and now I’m growing old with him.

As a young rock fan growing up on Long Island in the 70s and 80s, you couldn’t avoid Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band. They were on the radio, the posters were on the windows of the record shops (remember those) and the music was played loud at every party we went too.

I was bitten hard by the Bruce bug in 1978. I was 14 when “Darkness on The Edge of Town” was released and I was smitten by hard driving songs about life, love and work, the open but often lonely road and America itself.

Once I discovered “Darkness” I backfilled my collection with his first three albums—all of them brilliant and meaningful—at least to me— a teenager trying to figure it all out.

But unlike most teenage obsessions, rock music and Springsteen would continue to be meaningful as I went off to college, started my career, had a family, suffered the loss of loved ones, went through a divorce, found new love, changed careers, got involved in civic life and then re-invented myself again.

Now as I grow older, the music continues to resonate, inform, entertain, move me and make me think.

The old songs still strike something deep inside and take on new meaning as I listen to them 40 years down the road as Bruce would say.

And the new music is a gift; a beautiful gift.

I’m excited that my favorite artist is still out there creating as he nears his 70th birthday, long past the sell-by date we are force fed by a youth-oriented society.

In two months, I will turn 55 an age when you start to understand that the sands are running through the hour glass very fast and that more sand is on the bottom of the glass than remains on top. Many of my friends are my age or older and I am starting to see them wrestle with health issues and thoughts of hanging them up.

 I get it and can relate.

But I still aspire.

Last week, I was in a meeting with a younger man–a friend— and the talked strayed briefly from business to life. He looked at me and said “you have about 20 years left to be productive.”

Lord, I hope so.

He meant what he said as a compliment. But as you age you realize that 20 years passes in the blink of an eye.

I can still remember being that young boy listening to that Springsteen record with the volume turned up in my room in Stony Brook, N.Y. playing air guitar and dreaming of “The Promised Land.”

And in a blink, you see your 50s flash by, your kids grow up and your friends grow old.

But Bruce Springsteen is still singing at 70, with no plans to quit and so he gives me hope that we all can keep going for years to come.

 

 

 

Election Eve Thoughts: Non-Partisan Edition

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Tomorrow is Election Day.

Yay!

Actually, it’s more like yuk!

According to a poll released last week 82 percent of likely voters are disgusted with the state of American politics as well they should be.

Much of the public craves progress and collaboration in Washington, polls say. They aren’t getting it and so we end up with the Tea Party, Occupy Wall Street, Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump.

To steal a term from Silicon Valley, many voters want to “disrupt” Washington and many others are simply staying home and disconnecting.

The nation is divided and politicians rank close to kidney stones in terms of popularity. Sadly, many have earned that low opinion through inaction, ego, corruption and self-serving behavior.

But maybe, just maybe there is a silver lining. Maybe we had to endure the ugliest campaign imaginable—an endless, expensive, relentless barrage of negativity and vitriol—to finally declare we have reached rock bottom and something needs to change.

There are really two choices here: we continue to spiral downward or we begin to heal and demand more from those who seek to lead us.

Which path will we take?

If you believe surveys an overwhelming majority of Americans crave better leadership. They want to see problems solved, progress made and opportunities seized. They long for a safer public square that still allows for robust debate. They respect principles but also value compromise. We’ll see if we get it, but I truly believe it’s up to us to make it happen.

We the people…

Those three simple words are brilliant and profound.

We the people…have the power.

We the people…also stand for what we tolerate.

We the people…

I am 52 years old. So I’ve been voting since 1982.

Fifty-two is a great age.

Oh sure, I’d rather be 35 (and know what I know now) but I like this time of life. I’m old enough to have seen some things. Old enough to have learned a few things; I think they call it perspective. But I’m also young enough to still be (somewhat) relatable to younger people. (I am however, keenly aware that an expiration date is fast approaching).

I feel very fortunate that a few young people sometimes seek me out.

Maybe they have seen this blog, I know a few have read my book about local politics, some are digging into Delray and have heard my name or some may be running for office in another city—regardless I am thrilled when they reach out and want to meet.

We talk about business, we talk about life in these parts and we talk about politics and opportunity. I tell them what I think and I tell them I am still learning. They teach me too.

For a long time I was the youngest person in most rooms I entered. I was always a guy in a hurry—married early, had kids early, went into business as a young man and had a mortgage at an age when most people are still on their parents couch. I wouldn’t have traded any of it because ultimately it makes you who you are—and as time passes the things you once viewed as mistakes end up to be the experiences you cherish the most.

My motor still revs high—I am still ambitious, curious, searching and very passionate about life. The fire still burns– although sometimes it’s indigestion.

But the joys of having experience are balanced by that number: 52.

52 has limits…

52 gets tired…

52 doesn’t sleep well anymore…

52 understands that time is precious and is running short; especially when you still want to do so much and want to see even more.

A close friend and I now joke (sort of) that “hey, we may never go to Australia.”

Or we may, but the point is we won’t have the time to do all we want to do.

Truth is, nobody does. But at 52 I’ve become aware of that poignant fact.

Still in a way, that knowledge is freeing.

It’s time to prioritize. It’s time to chase, but also to savor.

And so, I love talking to people in their 20s and 30s. I want to encourage them to get involved.

Be the change, they want to see in their world. Such a cliché, but oh so true.

I speak to a lot of young people who are interested in the community and business. They are a little mystified by politics, some are a little scared, but all seem to understand that they better start paying attention and they might just have to get into the ring to make good things happen and stop bad things from happening.

I urge them to do so.

I tell them that politics is kind of like fire; its power for good is equaled by its power for destruction.

I tell them it’s a job to do, not a job to have. And I tell them that it’s OK to be a little bit scared of jumping in—it tells me that they have emotional intelligence and empathy. Be wary of the narcissists, the people who think they are the smartest people in the room. Embrace those who ask questions and have open minds and warm hearts.

There is a dearth of these people in public life today—at every level.

That’s what we are missing. Some call it servant leadership and I like that term. But it’s more: its heart, soul, sensitivity, empathy, gratitude and respect.

Its people willing to say they struggle too…they don’t have all the answers but they want us to join together so that we might create a better tomorrow.

We have our share of bullies and buffoons…it’s time to add truth, reason and compassion to the mix.