26 August, 2019 10 10 Comments

Grateful: For ALL Of It

August 26, 2019 By 10 Comments

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.

 

 

17 April, 2019 0 Comments

Wrestling With Marie Kondo

April 17, 2019 By Leave a Comment

Two of my favorite baseball players Don Mattingly and Keith Hernandez graced the cover of this vintage Newsday special section. I’m keeping it!

We’ve been doing a lot of spring cleaning these days.

Check that, Diane and my niece have been knee deep in the garage and I get to come home and decide what parts of my past I want to keep and what to throw out or donate. I have to admit it has been difficult for me to part with mementos from the past.

I don’t know if you’ve caught any of the Marie Kondo phenomenon but the organizational guru who challenges people to throw things out if they don’t “spark joy” wouldn’t be my top choice for a dinner party at my house. Truth is, all of my stuff sparks joy—it’s just that there’s so darn much of it.

There are three main causes driving my collection: I’m sentimental, I’ve spent two decades plus as a journalist and I did 7 years in local politics.

That character trait and those two endeavors have generated an overwhelming amount of mementos: clips of articles I’ve written and a slew of plaques, proclamations, letters and ‘do dads’ from my civic work.

For better or for worse, they represent my life’s work—or at least a great deal of it. I’m still out here writing my own story.

So all of it means something to me. The newspaper and magazine stories I wrote, the letters from people who liked something the commission did (we had plenty of critical letters too and I kept some as well) and of course the souvenirs from the places we visited. So while I understand that material possessions pale in comparison to what really matters, these artifacts spark memories and yes Ms. Kondo a certain amount of joy.

But my argument to keep this stuff falls apart if you ask a few basic questions such as: Who is going to want or care about these things when I pass? And short of expiring, how are we going to store/move/organize this stuff should we decide to move or downsize?

Of course, I don’t want to answer any of those questions. But my better half is posing them and it’s hard to put off answering the woman who was brave enough to wade into my vast archives. Plus, she’s really cute and very smart and totally logical. I am simply no match for Diane.

So every night, I come home and wade through another pile.
It’s been an interesting ride…newspapers that take me back to the 80s and 90s, articles that reintroduce me to newsmakers from back in the day, magazine columns penned for Atlantic Ave magazine, old photos, campaign literature from landmark races, vintage Rolling Stone magazines,  a stray Playboy or two (read for the articles of course) and a really bad fake ID that I remember paying $20 for in Times Square so I would be old enough to buy a beer in downtown Port Jefferson—life was sure simpler then.

So here’s what we’ve decided and I think Diane is mostly on board although I’m sure she’d like to cart it all away.

I’m keeping some stuff.

I’m getting rid of some stuff.

I’m donating some stuff.

I’m looking at all of it and reminiscing.

These are my takeaways…

Memories are precious.

Life goes fast.

But you sure rack up a lot of miles and accumulate a lot of stuff.

Most likely, my kids and hopefully my future grandkids, won’t be interested.

 

And hopefully, there won’t be time to sit back at the end of it all and look back. Why?

Because if all goes well, I’ll be busy making new memories up until the very end. In other words, I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready to sit in that rocking chair.

As my friend from across the miles and the years texted me this week—“Life’s about the moments.”

Indeed.

You have got to keep making them.

 

27 August, 2018 0 Comments

Life Lessons At Gumbo Limbo

August 27, 2018 By Leave a Comment

Visit Gumbo Limbo to see some leatherbacks.

Gumbo Limbo Nature Center is one of those local treasures that you may miss if you don’t slow down and visit.
Nestled off of A1A near Red Reef Park in Boca Raton, Gumbo Limbo is beautiful and if you are looking to reconnect to nature and experience a different Boca, this is the place.

We used to go to Gumbo Limbo years ago, when the kids were little or when we had visitors with children. It was a pleasant way to spend a few hours, visiting the marine life, walking the boardwalk and gazing at the marine life in the aquariums.
But we hadn’t been there in years, so we jumped at the chance to go with a friend to witness a sea turtle hatchling release event recently.
It was a blast.
An educational and thrilling blast. We even met founder Gordon Gilbert which was a real honor.

We highly recommend you go if you have an opportunity and we also urge you to get involved if you are so inclined.
Sea turtles are amazing.

There are three types of turtles who hatch on our shores and all three species are in peril.
Loggerheads, leatherbacks and greens nest and hatch here and they face  long odds to live to maturity—about 1,000 to 1. That’s not a typo.

Between predators—foxes, raccoons, birds and sadly people—hatchlings have to cope with pollution, warming sands in Boca (which are creating an astounding 95 percent female population) and natural hazards as they swim miles to their nursery in the Sargasso Sea.

When you attend a sea turtle event you learn these things from a very informative and dedicated marine scientist. You come away from the experience as an advocate. It’s hard not to get caught up in the hatchling’s plight and to draw some parallels to life itself.

Watching the little turtles work their way to the ocean— pushed back by the tide, veering off to the seaweed, wandering toward the artificial light from the Deerfield pier or the cars on A1A is alternately thrilling and sobering.
Thrilling because it’s so beautiful to see these little ones scampering in the sand where if they beat the odds and make it they will spend 20 years at sea before returning to the sand.
And sobering because of those long odds made worse by human pollution such as plastic that they often choke on or get entangled.
It may sound silly but when you see the hatchlings rush to the sea you can’t help but draw a parallel to our own existence.

Life presents so many obstacles,  we’re so fragile and yet life is  immensely beautiful.

13 June, 2018 4 4 Comments

In Praise of Dad & Dads

June 13, 2018 By 4 Comments

 

My dad was about my age today in this photo taken in 1990 before my sister’s wedding.

My dad turns 80 on Friday.
I don’t think he’ll mind me revealing his age; he’s earned his stripes, it’s just a number and honestly  he looks 20 years younger. Seriously. He does.
My dad is a hero of mine.

I’ve been blessed to have had many heroes and heroines in my life, special people who have inspired me simply by living good and meaningful lives.
But no blessing is bigger than having a father and a mother who were wonderful beyond words.

We lost mom 20 years ago this October and we miss her every single day.  But we are so fortunate to have dad in our lives through the decades.
I’m especially lucky because he lives so close, just up the road from us.

I’ve spoken and written about my dad before. And everything I’ve ever said remains true: he inspires me, he motivates me, he counsels me and he has always been there for me and everyone in our small but close family.

As you get older, you begin to think about life differently.
You appreciate the present because you know good things can be gone in an instant. You also anticipate the future because life is good and where there is life there is hope. And you look back too and reassess.
When I look back one word comes to mind: luck. I am so lucky to have had a great dad.

My dad was a very hard worker. He spent hours and hours of his life running his pharmacy and we spent those hours with my mom who was warm, nurturing and very involved in our lives but never ever in an overwhelming way. No, she had just the right touch.

She also took care to ensure that my dad had his space and time to recover from the long hours. She looked out for him and always told us how hard he was working and how lucky we were. So gratitude was taught to me and my sister Sharon. You later learn that gratitude ensures happiness because you focus on what you have– not what you’re missing.

To my dad’s credit, when he was home he was present and so we have great memories: family trips, summers at the “pool club”, visits to the U.S. Open, memorable visits to see our grandparents, aunts and cousins and family dinners where we discussed politics and current events.

Those “wonder years” influence who you are. I believe we bring our own spirit to the world, but our parents shape who we become.  So I am a grateful son. And my sister  is likewise grateful.
As I reflect on Father’s Day and a milestone birthday this week, three words in addition to luck come to mind.

Reliable—my dad was reliable. He always made a living. Always came home right after work. Always was good to our mother. We always felt safe.

Reliable is an underrated word. But if you can rely on family and friends in a volatile world where we are oh so fragile..well..that’s ultra special. In a world of constant change and tumult, being reliable is an amazing gift. And when you are reliably good to people, let’s just say there are no words to describe how valuable that quality is.

Loving—We always felt loved. That’s what great dads do. There was no doubt that we were central to his life. His career was a important means to an even more important end. The end was family; a good life for our family.

Smart– My dad is an educated man. He graduated from an Ivy League school, had a successful career as a pharmacist and was a successful small business owner. All those require smarts galore. But my dad has smarts beyond those impressive things. He has the smarts that enabled him to live a great life. He just knows how to navigate the curveballs, deal with the inevitable setbacks, bounce back from the tragedies all of us endure and find a way to be happy. He always keeps his head about him. There’s that old reliability I told you about.

I could go on, but there’s really no words to describe someone who gave you everything and continues to give.
Happy birthday dad. Happy Father’s Day too. We love you.
And to all the dads out there thanks for all you do. I hope we all continue to dance for a long time.

My dad Sandy (we are Sanford and son) and his lovely life partner and main squeeze Fran.

18 September, 2017 2 2 Comments

Still Swimming After All These Years

September 18, 2017 By 2 Comments

 

I read two stories recently about musical legends Paul Simon and Artie Shaw.
One story focused on Simon’s enduring genius and the fact that he is still writing and performing music into his 70s. The other focused on Shaw walking away from music at the age of 44 never to record again.
When you hit your 50s thoughts inevitably turn to “what’s next” as retirement and retirement planning begins to consume a larger space in your mind.
Many of my friends are beginning to think about when and where they’ll retire. Some are trying to figure out how or if they’ll be able to.
Some are stepping away from businesses, others are selling their homes and downsizing and still others are beginning to spend months at a time in other locales.
Truthfully, I feel a step behind.
Oh, I’m beginning to think about aging and changes. My wife recently left the daily grind and is happily consulting these days.
It has been gratifying to see her more relaxed and happier.
As for me, well let’s just say relaxing isn’t my strong suit.

Recently I told you about my talk to Creative Mornings Palm Beach which focused on aspiration, leadership, genius, community and entrepreneurship.
At the end of the talk,  a friend in the audience asked a question that related to the Disney character Nemo and his desire to keep swimming.
The friend wondered whether I would keep swimming and my answer was an emphatic yes..for as long as I can.
For as long as I am able.
So count me more of a Simon than a Shaw.

Fortunately, I’ve been exposed to some amazing people who continue to contribute, create and aspire well into their 70s, 80s and even 90s.
They seem to be very happy.
And so–lord willing– I hope to follow in their footsteps.
Oh and one more thing.
I recently saw this quote from entrepreneur Drew Houston. It struck me:  “There are 30,000 days in your life. When I was 24, I realized I’m almost 9,000 days down. There are no warm-ups, no practice rounds, no reset buttons. Your biggest risk isn’t failing, it’s getting too comfortable. Every day, we’re writing a few more words of a story. I wanted my story to be an adventure and that’s made all the difference.”
That’s it, isn’t it?
I don’t want to get comfortable. And with over 19,000 days lived it’s important to make the last 10,000 or so count. It’s important to keep life an adventure.

21 June, 2017 2 2 Comments

Against the Wind

June 21, 2017 By 2 Comments

Facebook is powerful.
And lately it’s reminding me of how fast time passes.
Sometimes when I can’t sleep (and I write most of these posts between 3 am and 4:30 am) I scroll through Facebook viewing the lives of people I know through their news “feeds.”
Most of the time, it’s a happy experience and it makes me feel somewhat connected to the lives of people who have meant something to me on my travels through life.

But sometimes it leaves me feeling a little sad because I realize that I’m barely connected to people who once were so important to my daily existence. And I realize the relentless velocity of life. Days bleed into weeks, weeks bleed into months and suddenly life passes by.
And so I realize that I don’t know my childhood friend’s son who just graduated college and that I have never seen (in real life anyway) my best friend’s grandchildren.
Work, distance, obligations, your own troubles, joys, sorrows–life. As Bob Seger sings: “deadlines and commitments, what to leave in, what to leave out.”

I recently shared with a new friend that I find my 50s to be a poignant decade.
In so many ways, we find ourselves at the top of our game. We have gained knowledge,  insight and perspective through experience, mistakes and time. We’ve paid a lot of dues.

We’ve tripped and fell over and over again but still managed to find a way through our childhood, teen years, the turbulent 20s, our 30s and 40s and now we’re here: smarter in so many ways. But still filled with unanswered questions, still searching, still wondering. There’s so much in the rear view mirror, so much we now understand and so much that is still a mystery.

The poignancy comes with the realization that there’s just not enough time to do all that we want to do. To see all that we want to see.
We hope there’s time and most likely there is, but we also understand how fast it goes, how tenuous our health can be, we know our strength and we grasp our vulnerability.

When I was a kid, my friends and I would play basketball in our driveway for hours. We found time for stickball, threw a football around and played tennis for hours. We would listen to records and talk endlessly and enthusiastically about all that we would do. The places we’d travel. The jobs we’d have. The world’s we’d conquer.

As I see all my friends kids graduate, see the photos of a college reunion I just missed, watch my own kids launch their careers I realize that I still aspire.
That I’m still excited about the future, still get turned on by creative people who spend their days dreaming and doing and helping and achieving. This week alone, I reconnected with a young entrepreneur that I believe in, talked with my team about building a brand, dreamed about creating a creative village, kicked back with close friends at a great local restaurant and had a great discussion with some really smart people about community and connection. It’s invigorating. It feeds your soul.

But I also feel the tug of time, the need to connect with people who have meant the world to me and the need to be present and to plan: trips, goals, experiences..the things that matter most.
Because while time has always been finite, you just don’t realize it until you get older just how fast your life passes by.
And you realize that how you spend your time and who you spend it with is the most important decision of all.

23 January, 2017 1 Comment

A Life Well Lived

January 23, 2017 By 1 Comment

Delray Beach lost a great man last week with the passing of Dr. Thomas Carney.
The father of former Commissioner and Mayor Tom Carney and former Palm Beach County Tax Collector Peter Carney and a third son Dan, Doc Carney was 90 and had spent many years in Delray.
When I clicked on his notice last week I was stunned but not surprised by Dr. Carney’s resume. He packed a lot of experiences, accomplishments and achievements into his lifetime and achieved success in medicine, business, philanthropy, banking, education, the church and civic affairs. He was even a key figure in the legendary ABA (American Basketball Association) as an owner of the Miami Floridians.
As a friend of mine used to say, he paid his civic rent and then some.
But as we all know, people are more than their curriculum vitae’s.
Two of my most memorable evenings in Delray included Dr. Carney.
The first was a multi course (and many different wines) dinner at Tom’s house that included an eclectic guest list ranging from a Major League Baseball manager to several prominent Washington officials. It was memorable. And the life of the party was Dr. Carney. He was funny, smart and hugely charismatic. People were drawn to him. He had an energy, a wit and a love of life that was infectious.
The second memorable evening was a meet and greet with Senator Edward Kennedy and his wife at Dr. Carney’s place on Andrews Avenue.

It was in the midst of the 2004 presidential campaign and Massachusetts’ senior Senator was making a campaign stop on behalf of Sen. Kerry.
It was fascinating to meet the Senator who seemed to know a bunch of facts about Delray.
Dr. Carney will be missed. He had a great smile, a curious mind and a hearty laugh.
In our thoughts and prayers. Well done sir. Thank you.

« Previous Page