5 January, 2026 0 Comments

Poetry…

January 5, 2026 By Leave a Comment

I can feel a love of poetry developing.
Another late life love proving that you can grow, evolve, learn and enjoy new things at any age.

Prior to this recent development, I never really appreciated, understood or enjoyed poetry.
But I’ve always loved song lyrics. I think the best lyrics are poetry.
Springsteen is a poet.

So is Dylan.

I thought John Lennon’s lyrics were magical—”In My Life”, “Norwegian Wood” and “Strawberry Fields” transport me and millions of others to a special place of joy.

Over the weekend, we saw a production of “Both Sides Now” at the Delray Beach Playhouse. It was incredible. Truly special. The show celebrates the words and music of Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen.

When put to music, their poetry elicited tears from the audience. Only art, only poetry, can do that.

Still, conventional poetry? It’s never been my thing.
That’s beginning to change.

In the past year or so I discovered Mark Nepo, rediscovered Robert Frost and found myself seeking out poetry during particularly tough or joyful moments.
Some poems land. Some poems don’t but I find if you make an effort the poem will meet you half way.

My friend Andrea is a poet.

She has been kind enough to send me her work which is touching, funny and very relatable.
She’s involved in a group called “Poets on the Fringe” which has open mic nights at a coffeehouse in Boca. Many of the poets also share their work at Delray’s wonderful Arts Garage.

Inspired by my friend, I’ve written a few poems and one even got published last year in a poetry anthology called “Alone Together.” Seeing my poem “Sit Spot” in a book was a thrill. But I haven’t yet found the courage to stand up in public and share. I will someday—maybe. I’m not quite ready.

Recently, my friend sent me a video of her reciting her poetry at an open mic night. I was struck by the joy on her face. It made my day. I’d like to experience that feeling. So someday. Maybe.

The same friend helped me discover the work of Andrea Gibson, an amazing poet who died tragically at age 49 in 2025.

I loved reading Gibson’s poetry and I highly encourage you to seek it out. Her story is a sad one, but she did leave an amazing body of work.
I found a newsletter Gibson wrote shortly before dying. It was basically a list of things she loved.
Gibson introduced the list with a great piece of advice: “the world is heavy right now, friends. Spend some time every day reminding yourself why the world is worth saving.”
Indeed it is.

Be thankful for the people who introduce you to the poetry of life. Those brave and generous enough to share it too.

25 August, 2025 4 4 Comments

Born To Run

August 25, 2025 By 4 Comments

50 years ago today…

50 years ago today, an album was released that changed my life.

On August 25, 1975, one day before my 11th birthday, Bruce Springsteen released “Born to Run.”
It was a masterpiece.
Eight songs, each meticulously and painstakingly created with musicians who would soon be known the world over as The E Street Band.
The album went on to sell millions of copies. Born to Run has become a touchstone for countless fans who see pageantry and artistry in four chords and a back beat.
Countless words have been used to describe the magic of Born to Run so I will spare you mine.
But on the 50th anniversary of its release, a new book called Jungleland by Peter Ames Carlin tells the story of how the album came into existence.
After two critically acclaimed but commercially unsuccessful albums, Springsteen was given one last chance. Born to Run was do or die.
The making of the album was torturous. Springsteen labored over every note of every song driving the musicians to the brink.
The story of Born to Run is the story of a driven artist, desperate to succeed but unwilling to compromise.
It’s a great story.
And there are lessons to be learned: great artists don’t compromise, they stay true to themselves and their vision. No man is an island: Bruce needed the E Street Band, his managers, producers and engineers to fully commit and they were rewarded for doing so.  But when  it comes time to “ship” you ship.
Let me explain.
Springsteen almost became paralyzed by the desire for perfection. The album took forever to produce, take after take after take. The song Born to Run took six months to finish. There needed to be an intervention to get Bruce to agree to release it.
But there comes a time when you just have to hit send. That’s a life lesson my friends.
Every year on the anniversary of Born to Run’s release Bruce takes a drive around the Jersey shore and visits the places that inspired the album. He remains grateful for the record that saved his career and seeks to reconnect to the places and experiences that inspired classics such as Backstreets, Thunder Road and the epic Jungleland.
I think that’s an important practice. We have to drive  slow at times, take in the sites and  reconnect.
There’s a line in Thunder Road that has always intrigued me.
Because in these words I sense a paradox. That makes it interesting. That makes it art.
Here’s the line: “it’s a town full of losers and we’re pulling out of here to win.”
The protagonist in the song is asking the object of his affection to leave with him, to find a better place than the dead end town where they live.
It’s a cinematic song, a girl on a porch, dress swaying, a young suitor asking her to take a chance.
Yet we know that Springsteen is an artist rooted and wedded to his native New Jersey.
He jokes that he’s travelled the world, but chooses to live a few miles from where he grew up in Freehold.
The town holds a number of memories—some good, some bad, some joyful, some painful. It’s  been a full experience. One many of us can relate to.
It’s this realism, this depth of feeling, this sharing of pain and joy that makes Springsteen a special artist.
Born to Run was the album that introduced me to an artist that would play a big role in my life.
Alongside The Beatles, the Stones, The Who and several other bands and artists, Bruce’s music became the soundtrack to my life.
What made him a little different for me was that I feel like I grew up alongside his music.
The Beatles, so amazing they defy description and comparison, broke up when I was six. I didn’t have the pleasure of anticipating a new album. When I discovered music their whole canon was there for me to listen to. But with Springsteen there was always new music to discover—right up to today. Even at 75, he’s releasing new work that somehow, magically tracks with my life.
When I was 11, I liked the guitars and music on Born to Run. It was a visceral experience. But I can’t pretend I understood the record or the stories he was telling. I was too young. But over the years, after living a little and listening a lot the record began to take shape for me. Great art does that, it meets you where you are and clarifies at the same time. It also raises questions, makes you think and transports you.
So on the 50th anniversary, I want to savor that experience. And give thanks to an artist who has shaped me and so many others.
4 August, 2025 0 Comments

And So It Goes…

August 4, 2025 By Leave a Comment

“In every heart there is a roomA sanctuary safe and strongTo heal the wounds from lovers pastUntil a new one comes along” – Billy Joel from And So It Goes

I invested 5 plus hours recently in the two-part Billy Joel documentary “And So it Goes” currently streaming on HBO and Max.

I then spent another 7 plus hours over the course of a week listening to music that Joel put on Spotify to accompany the documentary.

For me, it was worth all 12 hours to lose myself in an artist who I’ve been listening to since the mid-70s.

Growing up on Long Island it felt like Billy’s music was part of the water supply—we got a constant dose of it every time we turned the radio to WBAB, WNEW or WPLJ back when rock and pop ruled the airwaves and the culture.

Those were the days to remember.

Or as Billy wrote:

“This is the time to remember

‘Cause it will not last forever

These are the days to hold on to

‘Cause we won’t, although we’ll want to.”

My goodness that’s true.

The documentary is a warts and all look at a truly unique and productive artist—although he has not written a new song with lyrics since 1993.

(Before you fact check me, he did not write his most recent release “Turn the Lights Back On.”)

In fact, one of the things the documentary reveals is how Joel loathes writing lyrics and felt imprisoned “by the rhyme.”

Imagine that; because he’s a sublime lyricist. His words land.

“When you look into my eyes

And you see the crazy gypsy in my soul

It always comes as a surprise

When I feel my withered roots begin to grow

Well, I never had a place that I could call my very own.

But that’s all right, my love, ’cause you’re my home.”

That song, “You’re My Home” is a movie in 3 minutes and 15 seconds. It’s cinematic, comprehensive, complete.

The documentary delves deep into Joel’s career, creative process, struggles and colorful family history.

Some of the revelations:

He wanted to be Beethoven and it’s possible that he loved classical music more than he loved rock music, despite his enormous success which has him selling out stadiums more than 50 years after he released his first album.

Joel shared his family’s touching and tragic Holocaust story. He describes how in his mid-20s he discovered that his paternal grandfather, Karl Joel, had a textile factory in Nuremberg. The family lived next to the park where the Nuremberg rallies were held. His grandfather was forced to sell his business but was never paid. The Joel’s escaped Germany and the factory was used by the Nazis to make the striped uniforms worm by concentration camp prisoners. This reveal, prompts Joel to wear a yellow J in solidarity with his Jewish roots.

Also prominent in the documentary was Billy’s strained relationship with his father Howard and his failed attempts to connect later in life with his dad. He wrote the song “Vienna” with his father in mind and tells how his father knocked him unconscious as a child when he played a rock version of Moonlight Sonata.

He’s also very open about his failed marriages—three to date (he  seems happily married to his fourth wife). He admits to being afraid of dying alone and never feeling totally at ease with his artistry. There’s pride but a deep awareness of his weaknesses as an artist.

“I’ve never forgiven myself for not being Beethoven,” he says.

Also apparent is Joel’s love of Eastern Long Island and his attraction to the water.

Locals in these parts are well aware of Joel’s presence in our community. He recently sold a home he owned in Manalapan and I’ve heard of sightings on Atlantic Avenue and at the Boynton Inlet.

But his love of Long Island runs deep. New York is his muse and very much a part of his artistic soul.

Watching him talk about the writing of “New York State of Mind” and “Summer Highland Falls” reminds me of Springsteen’s love of New Jersey and Jimmy Buffett’s affinity for Key West.

I think “place based” artists are fascinating. Tom Petty was rooted in Gainesville, Brian Wilson in Southern California and there’s something very English about The Beatles and Elton John. It adds a layer to their work, a perspective to explore and feel.

I cam away from “And So It Goes” with a newfound respect for Billy Joel. His determination, his devotion to craft, his honesty with his own flaws and his desire to connect to fans.

Devoted fans know that he’s currently confronting a “brain disorder.” It seems like it’s something that can be handled, but you never know. Our heroes are now well into their 70s and in some cases 80s. The health challenge was not mentioned in the documentary which was filmed prior to diagnosis. Billy describes it as a balance issue where he feels like he’s on a boat that’s rocking. He says he feels good and sounds optimistic about the future.

While there will likely be no new music (“I feel I’ve said it all”)  let’s hope he’s with us for years to come. We grew up with the greatest music ever made, 50 and 60 years later, we still listen. The art endures, the songs last—just like Beethoven.

 

21 August, 2023 12 12 Comments

Art Endures…

August 21, 2023 By 12 Comments

Robbie Robertson’s music and influence will live on.

My heroes are dying.One by one. Drip by drip, they drop from this world into the next.Tina Turner, Randy Meisner and Robbie Robertson are just the latest.Before that, we said goodbye to Tom Petty, Glenn Frey, Prince, David Crosby, Burt Bacharach and David Bowie—and the list goes on.

If those names are familiar, you probably grew up in the 60s,70s or 80s. You probably loved music and the songs of these icons became a part of your DNA, a big part of your soul.Randy Meisner was the Nebraska native whose sweet voice turned “Take it to the Limit” into a song that inspired millions.Robbie Robertson was the genius who led The Band and virtually created “Americana” music.

I remember going to see “The Last Waltz” at the Smithhaven Mall  with my friends Scott and Howie. We were 14. We loved music, but our tastes were not quite sophisticated, not quite fully formed. We adored The Beatles and that’s why we probably went to see “The Last Waltz”, because Ringo was in the film —for a few minutes anyway.I came away loving The Band.

I remember being swept up by Robbie’s cool and Levon Helm’s soulful singing. But it would be years until I fully appreciated the genius of The Band, the greatness of their work and the power of that amazing film, in my mind the best “rock movie” ever made. The best concert movie ever.And at the center of it all was Robbie Robertson, the epitome of hip, the wise soul, road weary and weathered but full of wisdom and great songs.Now he’s gone, but the music lives on. And will live on, I’m sure of it.Why?Because here we are in 2023, and we are still listening to music from the 70s. If we did the same thing in the 70s, we would have been listening to music from the 20s. I don’t think we did too much of that in those days.

I remember, a number of years ago, going to Old School Square’s Crest Theater to see local musicians reenact The Last Waltz. People were dancing in the aisles. I can’t imagine a better time.

A few years after that, we went to The Arts Garage to see Rusty Young of Poco perform. He sang like an angel. And shortly after he passed too. That beautiful voice and dobro silenced.We’ve been making it a point to see the legends when they pass through South Florida. Many of the shows were farewell tours and all of them were awesome: Paul Simon, Elton John, David Byrne, Colin Hay, Roger McGuinn (at the Crest) Steve Forbert (Arts Garage) Queen (without Freddie Mercury), The Eagles right before we lost Glenn Frey and of course, Bruce Springsteenand the E Street Band.I’m sorry I missed Jackson Browne who just played Fort Lauderdale. What a songwriter he is, what a voice too.My goodness, these people are special.

And so I wonder why this music penetrates my mind and never leaves my heart. Why do these songs mean so much?They’ve gotten me through sadness and propelled me when I felt joy.

I think we’re all searching; for answers, for a way to express ourselves. I find my answers in music and I express myself by writing.Last week, I was sitting around the house thinking about a friend I just lost. My mind wandered to music.  And I began to wonder what it is about a great song that moves us.

Then magically— as if on cue–an old friend called. We talked about a whole bunch of things. And she said something profound. She said something that I can’t let go of.

Our heroes give us ladders, she said.  It could be a song, a painting or an essay that touches something deep down. They hit on a truth and give us a ladder to climb so we can get to another level of understanding. And we climb, carefully, so as not to fall. We climb to see what’s at the top.If we’re kind and generous, when we get to the top, we gaze a few rungs down and extend a hand.That’s what my heroes do for me. And that’s what I aspire to do for others, even though I often doubt I can do what they do. I try anyway. I will keep trying.

We forget all but the greatest statesmen and all but the most amazing sports heroes.We come.

We go.

But the music lives on. Always and forever.  The heroes live on.They leave behind ladders if we care to look and if we care to climb them.

12 June, 2023 9 9 Comments

The Power of Waves

June 12, 2023 By 9 Comments

 

Sometimes life crashes into you; like a wave.

You can be cooking along on autopilot only to be floored by a bit of news…. or a work of art.

When that happens— when the waves hit—you get snapped out of your rhythm. You’re reminded that you’re human; fragile, vulnerable, at risk.

In some cases, the waves are beautiful. They knock you over in a good way. You shake your head and marvel at all this world has to offer.

But sometimes a wave knocks you over and fills your lungs with dread. You’re left breathless, as if you’ve been punched before having a chance to brace yourself.

I’ve had four such waves hit me in recent weeks.

Two of the waves may seem silly, but they’re not. A great piece of art can reach deep, where it matters most. Art can take many forms—sculpture, a painting, music, or a TV show that touches you in a profound way and leaves you with a new perspective.

And sometimes, a wave can come via a text from a friend who tells you that something awful has happened.

In one text, we learned of the suicide of a friend’s 20-something daughter and in another we learned of the death of another friend’s 38-year-old daughter felled by a stroke. Both waves hit hard.

When you cherish your friend’s, when you open your heart to a kindred spirit, it’s a wonderful thing: an antidote to America’s crisis of loneliness. But you also become vulnerable to heartbreak. Bad things happen to good people and when they do you ache.

When my mother passed away in 1998 at the age I am now, the pain I felt was unlike anything else I had ever experienced. At the time, I sought solace in the book “When Bad Things Happen to Good People” by Rabbi Harold Kushner who passed away earlier this year.

“Pain is the price we pay for being alive,” he wrote. “Dead cells—our hair, our fingernails—can’t feel pain; they cannot feel anything. When we understand that, our question will change from, “Why do we have to feel pain?” to “What do we do with our pain so that it becomes meaningful and not just pointless empty suffering?”

That’s a question worth thinking about.

Globally, 1 in 100 deaths are by suicide. That’s a stunning figure.

There are no words or deeds we can offer my friend or any other person who has lost a loved one to suicide to make up for that loss, but we sure feel the pain.

And there are no words to soothe our hearts when a young talented woman is lost to a devastating stroke at a young age.  We take some solace that her organs will give life to others, but we grieve. The waves leave a permanent scar.

Still, I come back to Rabbi Kushner’s question which I have been wrestling with since I read his words 25 years ago.

“What do we do with our pain so that it becomes meaningful and not just pointless empty suffering?”

I think the answer is we love others, and we aspire to fulfill our dreams and lead a good life.

And that leads me to the two good waves that hit recently.

I’m a fan of good writing and recently two of the best written TV series of all time ended their runs. “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel” and “Ted Lasso” wrapped up their decorated runs with final episodes that were pitch perfect. Although I will miss both series immensely, I’m grateful for the artistry and the messages these shows provided during a tumultuous period in our world.

I’ve been studying playwriting recently and one of the main takeaways is that the best works contain a message, a point of view that propels the story forward.

For Mrs. Maisel, the message that drove the series was the importance of pursuing your dreams and never giving up even if the odds are stacked against you. So, despite setback after setback, Mrs. Maisel perseveres. She may wobble at times, but she always keeps her eyes on the prize. It’s a good lesson, because life is not easy and it’s sure not a straight shot to the top.

As for Ted Lasso, well….the message of that sweet show is the magic of love.  Ted Lasso is a show about love, made with love about the power of love.

There is no better message.

Some waves you want to lean into and ride because they’re beautiful and you want to be transported. Other waves knock you off your feet. Our world sure has its ups and downs.

“Upon us all, a little rain must fall,” the Led Zeppelin song says.

Indeed.

The Beatles answer with: “when it rains and shines, it’s just a state of mind.”

So true.

Here’s hoping you catch some good waves. And I hope that when you get hit with a bad one, that you find meaning in the pain and a way forward. Always a way forward.

 

 

Odds and Ends.

Bishop Stokes

A very special man, with Delray ties, retired last week and I can’t let the moment pass without saying thanks to a dear friend.

Chip Stokes, the former pastor of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church on South Swinton Avenue, who left us in 2013 to become the 12th Bishop of New Jersey, retired from his post June 4. His last official visitation was at Trinity Cathedral in Trenton, where it all began for my friend and his lovely wife Susan.

Chip and Susan were a blessing to our community and for me, he was an important touchstone. Chip’s door was always open and even though we came from different faiths, I found solace in his advice and inspiration in his passion for community and social justice. He was a trailblazer in race relations, a trusted friend to many and a beloved pastor who is dearly missed.

I often turned to Chip for advice when I was feeling the weight of the world during my tenure as mayor which included the shooting of a young man named Jerrod Miller, numerous hurricanes and my strong desire to bridge the gap between the races in Delray Beach. I could always rely on Chip to listen, give sage advice, and to buoy my spirits. He was more important to me than I think he knew at a time when I really needed someone of his immense sensitivity to care. We shared a desire to improve race relations, a love of baseball, and a belief that the world could be a better place if we could somehow connect with our fellow human beings.

When he was being vetted for the Bishop’s job, a team of church leaders came to Delray Beach to talk to parishioners and community leaders about Chip. I was honored to be among those they interviewed. We met at the historic church on Swinton, a place where I would from time to time, to see my friend and I was asked about his impact on the community.

Something happened to me when I began to answer. It has never happened before and it hasn’t happened since. But as I described my friend and the love he had shown for our town, I found that tears were welling up in my eyes. I was surprised and a little embarrassed at the time, but the interviewers were kind and understanding. I knew in my heart that Chip would get the job; he was too gifted not too and I could tell by the questions that the interviewers were smart people. They would surely see what I saw in Chip, that he was a man with extraordinary leadership qualities. I would miss Chip, Delray would miss Chip, but we wanted him to get the job.

He did and he knocked it out of the park.

Reflecting on his Chip’s influence in Delray last week, I kept coming back to the words love and passion. The best leaders are full of love and passion for people. They have compassion as well.

And as I ache for my divided country and also my divided city, I realize that Chip’s example still teaches me; leadership cannot happen without love, passion and compassion. Fomenting hate and division is not leadership, it is the opposite.

I thank Bishop Stokes for his example. We haven’t seen each other in a long time, but we’ve remained in touch and his impact still resonates around these parts.

We wish Susan, Chip and his New York Mets nothing but health and happiness.

 

10 May, 2021 0 Comments

Starry Starry Night

May 10, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Vincent

“Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and gray
Look out on a summer’s day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.” Don McLean

Awash in color, surrounded by music and lost in beauty I had a thought.

Art endures. (Yes, I know that’s not original).
A lot of other things fade over time but great art lasts forever.
That was the takeaway after attending “Beyond Van Gogh” at the Ice Palace in Miami.
It’s a hot ticket and for good reason. The exhibit is spectacular, moving and technologically impressive.
The exhibit runs through July. If you can swing it, I highly recommend you check it out.
The exhibit celebrates the life and works of Vincent Van Gogh, spotlighting not only his art, but also his struggles and his close relationship with his brother Theo.
It’s all uniquely presented, an immersive experience that is hard to describe. Let’s just say it’s quite a spectacle. You are placed “in” the art and the results are powerful. It’s worth the crazy drive to Miami.
There are lots of lessons in the life and in the art of Van Gogh.
Despite becoming one of the most influential artists in history Van Gogh was not commercially successful, and his suicide at 37 came after years of mental illness, depression and poverty.
And yet there is something powerful and exuberant in his paintings.  
Van Gogh failed at other careers including an attempt at being a preacher and while productive as an artist he just couldn’t quite make it either financially or commercially. 
He did however, have a great relationship with his younger brother Theo. The two exchanged heartfelt letters for years and they are a treasure,
In fact, the letters are a big part of the exhibit and shed light on their loyalty to each other and their philosophy on art and beauty. 
Theo was an  art dealer and his unfailing financial and emotional support allowed his brother to devote himself entirely to painting. Theo died at the age of 33, six months after his brother died at the age of 37.
One of the causes listed for his death was sadness. He kept everything his older brother sent to him, Vincent did not.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Vincent since seeing the exhibit. Been reading about him as well. 
I’ve also been mulling over the meaning of art in our lives. 
We are big music fans in our home and I’m constantly seeking out songs to sort through emotions that I experience. 
As a child of the 70s, I gravitate to rock music and count myself lucky to have lived in an era of so many great musical artists whose gifts have become the soundtrack to our lives. 
Along the way, I’ve found so many songs that have gotten me through the joys and sorrows of life. If you want to dance, cry, mourn, think, feel heartache, feel alive or smile there’s a library of great music to live by. 
Seeing the work of Van Gogh makes me hungry to explore the visual arts. Because standing in the exhibit surrounded by LED lights and digital recreations of his art, we felt moved deep inside. 
The issues of the day come and go or come and stay but great art goes deeper. Much deeper to the best parts of ourselves, where the good stuff, the real stuff exists. 
If we’re lucky, we find artists who speak to our condition; who touch our souls and express who we truly are as people. 
That’s why art endures and the rest of the stuff we deal with is ephemeral. 
We need art. It’s that simple. It’s just that beautiful.
17 June, 2019 2 2 Comments

Western Stars

June 17, 2019 By 2 Comments

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.

 

 

 

8 January, 2018 4 4 Comments

A Man For All Seasons

January 8, 2018 By 4 Comments

A painting of Churchill by his granddaughter.

We went to see a magnificent exhibit at the Society of the Four Arts last weekend.
“A Man for All Seasons; The Art of Winston Churchill” features paintings and notebooks from the legendary British leader.
Churchill took up painting in his 40s and it quickly became a passion. It lifted his dark moods and he became quite prolific.
As you meander through the exhibit (and you should catch it before it closes Jan. 14) you can see Churchill’s growth as an artist. He just gets better and better.
And you marvel..
At his art.
At his sculpture.
At his writing.
Not to mention his speaking and his amazing mind.
It makes you wonder—do people like him still exist?
Where are the giants? Where are the leaders?
As we walked to the car– having spent the past two days or so being bombarded with what sadly has become a steady drumbeat of political claptrap in our society– we briefly discussed why many (maybe most) of our best and brightest shun political office.
And we are not just talking about president or prime minister, senator or governor. Lots of good people are avoiding running for local office too.
Now that doesn’t mean that there aren’t superstars who run or serve—there are.
But not enough.
And if we’re honest, we know why.
While politics has never been genteel, civil, nice or easy it just feels particularly nasty, unusually small and extra frustrating these days.
It’s the inability to compromise, the competing sets of “facts”, the ridiculous trolls running their mouths on social media (often devoid of facts, empathy, context, respect or personal experience). It’s overwhelming.
Winston Churchill would have related to today’s ennui.
He once said about politics: “In war, you can only be killed once. But in politics many times.”
And yet..we need the Winston Churchill’s to do what they do.
Lead us. Inspire us. Save us from despots and fascists. And yes..paint.  So that we can marvel at their genius.
So that we can remember that having adults in our midst makes all the difference…

11 December, 2017 0 Comments

Imagine: Art Endures

December 11, 2017 By Leave a Comment

Last week marked the 37th anniversary of John Lennon’s murder.
In three years, he will be gone as long as he lived.
For me and for millions of others, the loss still stings.
I was 16 when Howard Cosell broke the tragic news on Monday Night Football.
Although my friends and I were only six when The Beatles broke up in 1970, we were devoted and devout fans. Yes we missed the band when they were active, but we didn’t miss out on their music. It was a big part of our lives.
It still is.
Thanks to The Beatles Channel on Sirius XM I get to listen to the band on my morning commute to the office. It’s great to have The Beatles and the solo music of John Lennon as a part of my daily life.
Great music and great art endures. It’s timeless.
The issues of the day come and go—worries bubble up and fade– but a great song, a great movie, a great book, a great painting– they last.
And so the music of John Lennon endures.
My friends and I joined 225,000 people in Central Park a few days after the tragedy for a vigil to honor Lennon. It’s a memory that will last a lifetime; throngs of people singing, crying and trying to make sense of a senseless act of violence.

All over the world, people mourned. In Palm Beach, fans were welcomed onto the grounds of John and Yoko’s home to pray and grieve. It was interesting to read the coverage in the Palm Beach Daily News last week chronicling John and Yoko’s ties to our area.

Years later, hundreds of fans streamed  into a tent on the grounds of Old School Square to view Lennon’s art work– a testament to his lasting impact.
That’s the power of great art and great artists. Their work resonates and lasts.
Readers of this blog know that I’m a huge admirer of Bruce Springsteen another artist whose work has endured.
William Taylor, founding editor of Fast Company magazine, recently went to see “Springsteen on Broadway” which has gotten rave reviews. It’s an evening of intimate songs and stories about Bruce’s life. The magic of great art is that it somehow becomes about all of our lives. We gain insight and clarity from music, art, drama and literature.
Here’s what Mr. Taylor shared on Facebook.
“Well, some folks have asked, and now that we are back from NYC here is my very brief reaction to Springsteen on Broadway. The show is as overwhelming as people say it is. It is a funny, joyous, unbelievably personal celebration of life. It is also an aching, painful, unbelievably personal meditation on mortality, the unbearable sadness of so much of what happens to us and how it shapes us. What’s also striking is the sound. The theater is so small, the sound system so good, it feels like you are inside the guitars, like you can feel the strings on your skin.  And when Bruce, time and again, steps away from the mic and talks or sings directly to the audience, with no amplification, you truly can hear a pin drop. I am man enough to say I reached for the Kleenex three times, which actually showed some good emotional restraint. I know tickets are impossible, but keep trying….”
That’s the power of music. That’s the power of a great artist to touch and move an audience.

We won’t be talking about the small bore politics of the day six months from now never mind decades from now .
But we will be listening to John Lennon’s music.
Of that I’m certain.
When WPBT recently ran a special on The Beatles, we watched and smiled. The music is amazing. The chemistry still crackles.
It’s genius. Pure and simple.

18 October, 2017 0 Comments

Old School Square Makes Us A Village

October 18, 2017 By Leave a Comment

The anchor is a beacon.

We went to a great party Sunday afternoon to celebrate a generous donation to Old School Square.

And we were reminded about how art builds community.

Margaret and Robert Blume stepped up to make the transformation of the Cornell Museum possible.
When the newly renovated museum re-opens in November, we predict that visitors to the space will be amazed.

As Old School Square CEO Rob Steele puts it: the museum will become an important community asset for Delray Beach with profound and enduring benefits.
That’s exactly what it should be. Community museums and art centers are meant to be treasured assets valued by residents, tourists and artists.

None of this would be possible without the generosity of donors like the Blume’s, dedicated staff (and Old School Square has a terrific staff), a committed board, volunteers and a supportive city.
It really does take a village.

The Blume’s were taken by Old School Square’s story and it’s importance to the community and stepped up as a result.
Let’s face it, when it comes to philanthropic dollars there is enormous competition. You have to have a compelling mission and an ability to deliver in order to stand a chance with so many worthy causes to choose from.

Those of us who are board members and fans of Old School Square are hopeful that others will be inspired to step up and help Old School Square in its important mission. Rob and his dedicated team have created naming rights and other opportunities for philanthropy and involvement.

Here’s hoping that many seize the opportunity to shape the future. Old School Square is a special place and plays a central role in our community.

I’m reading a great book by musician Dar Williams called “What I Found in a Thousand Towns” which is devoted to the observations of an artist who has spent a life on the road.
Ms. Williams is a self taught urban anthropologist and her eyes have been trained to see what works in towns she visits that thrive.
In her book, she notes a concept she calls “positive proximity” —or the creation of spaces where people can gather, meet, talk, experience music, art and community.
Sound familiar?

That was the genius of Frances Bourque’s idea when she looked at a dilapidated old school sitting on the very best real estate in town.
She saw a place that could be the focal point of our city. A place that could build community.

Over the years, Old School Square has delivered.

It’s where we practiced for our All America City awards, where we gathered to light the Christmas tree and Menorah, where we thanked volunteers, where we held a vigil after 9/11 and where we met as neighbors to discuss race relations.
It’s also where we met to discuss our downtown master plan, where we have lit unity candles on MLK Day and where we attended weddings and other important personal celebrations.
In its classrooms, we have seen artists of all ages learn and explore their passions. On its stages, we have experienced magic.

Old School Square is our most important asset. It belongs to everyone. It honors our past, informs our present and speaks to our future.
And it needs our help. Now more than ever.

We need to complete our parks plan, reinvent for the future and make the most of the amphitheater.
If we fulfill its promise, we will remain a strong community. In  a world that’s increasingly polarized and growing more remote thanks to technology (and fear of one another) we risk losing “positive proximity.”
That’s a loss we may never recover from and will be sure to regret.
Old School Square was the key to Delray’s revitalization three decades ago. It’s even more important to our future.

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