8 November, 2021 25 25 Comments

Old Friends Are Good For The Soul

November 8, 2021 By 25 Comments

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.

18 October, 2021 8 8 Comments

A Love Story Begins

October 18, 2021 By 8 Comments

Today is a very special day for me and my family.

We are welcoming a new member to our pack. Her name is Gracie and she’s a four month old golden retriever.
Of course, we are already deeply, hopelessly and completely in love with her.  Being a golden, we know she will love us back.
Diane and I are dog people.
Our home feels empty without a dog in it. We talk about dogs. We watch dog videos on social media. We admire dogs we see when we’re out and about.
Yes, we love dogs.
And other pets too.
These days we have a cute little cockatiel named Bailey and a wonderful old dog named Randy.
Randy is almost 19 years old. He’s a chihuahua mix and we adopted him from the Animal Rescue Force at the Delray Affair in the early days of our marriage. Frankly, I don’t remember a time when he wasn’t part of the family. He’s been there to watch the kids grow up and he’s been with us through so much of life.
In his day, he was full of sass. In his mind, he’s a lion.
These days, the lion is blind, deaf and very quiet.
But he’s still got an appetite, still loves us to rub his neck and from a distance he still looks like that little lion I fell I love with almost 20 years ago.
Randy has always had another dog to pal around with. There was Casey, a golden we rescued. Casey was sweet and loving. She loved going to Kilwin’s on the avenue but after her ice cream cone she was ready to go home and tried to get in every car parked along Atlantic. We really felt her loss when she passed. It hit hard.
After Casey,  there was Sophie, another chihuahua mix we rescued. She was a tough girl who once wandered the streets of Miami.
She loved us and we loved her. But she only had eyes for us. She died after being attacked by an unleashed dog while we were out for an early morning walk.
I think about it every time I walk down that street. Every time.
I don’t like writing about it, but it does allow me to urge others to leash their dogs. For their safety and ours…
I miss that little girl.
They all take a piece of you with them when they go.
I lost a big piece of my heart to our next golden who died way too young  after a battle with cancer.
Teddy was remarkable. He touched so many hearts and he and Randy were great buddies. He also bonded with Sunny, our snowbird yellow lab who visited us from Pittsburgh for a few glorious South Florida winters.
Teddy came from Golden Retrievals, a wonderful non-profit.
I can write a book about that beautiful soul. He was…well he was everything.
Losing him took a chunk out of us.
His loss was coupled with the loss of a dear family member, Covid and other heavy stuff and things have not been the same since.
Coming off my battle with Covid, I asked my incredible wife if we could let one more golden into our hearts. She said yes…as she always does to the things that really matter. I am a lucky man.
So here comes Gracie. This time, we are going the puppy route.
Its a brave move. Not sure how Randy will handle this. Not to mention the ducks, squirrels and  gallinules that like to hang out in our backyard.
I’m an optimist, I believe things will work out. I think the puppy will keep us active, make us laugh and give us years of love and joy.  We are following our hearts.
We love dogs.
They warm our cold world.
Here’s to the adventures to come Gracie.
One thing is certain, you will be loved.
4 October, 2021 20 20 Comments

All You Need Is Love

October 4, 2021 By 20 Comments

Love changes places.
Unfortunately, so does hate.
I would argue that those emotions are the only two things that leave a lasting impact.
The rest is ephemeral.

Love inspires and motivates.
Hate tears down and destroys.

Love fixes a lot of things but sometimes even love can’t fix what hate destroys. Sometimes the damage is permanent.

That thought keeps flashing through my mind as I watch the slow motion destruction of Old School Square and its 32 year history.
I believe the 3-2 vote to evict the non-profit —-without a conversation, without public input and without regard to the human toll of the decision —-was driven by personality conflicts between the powers that be and some of the citizens who created and operated Old School Square.

The conflict is telling because if you were to look at a list of board members, volunteers, donors and staff past and present, you would be looking at a who’s who of Delray civic leaders. These are the people who have done so much for Delray. Why? Because they love this city.

That they can be evicted without a conversation or a plan shared with the community is a shocking and deeply disturbing development.
We ought to be better than this.

We need to be be better than this.

And I believe we are better than this, as evidenced by over 10,000 signatures on a petition protesting the eviction and the continuing anger we are seeing in the community over this decision.
People are deeply unhappy with the turn of events and the complete lack of process and input from the community before the vote.

They are also deeply disturbed by the human toll of this decision—events cancelled, private parties cancelled, jobs lost and the utter disrespect shown to donors, volunteers and founder Frances Bourque who deserves so much better.

If allowed to stand, this decision will be remembered for two reasons: none of them good.

First, the destruction of a beloved community institution and second the lack of humanity shown to people who have earned our respect and consideration.

If we are to be a community that values people and contributions, this kind of decision and the way it was made cannot stand.

But before we dive in further, there are a few misconceptions surrounding this decision that need to be cleared up.

First is that Old School Square has refused to meet with the city. That is categorically false. OSS has been pleading for a meeting.

The second misconception is that the performance of the organization deserved the death penalty and that a new management company is urgently needed.
OSS is a non profit with operational responsibilities. It is not a management company.
There’s a difference.

The non profit is the secret sauce allowing the community to connect to the institution. Donors give to community based non- profits run by people they know, love and trust. There’s that word again—love.

Over the years, donors have supported OSS because they know the people associated with the non- profit were dedicated to the mission which was serving Delray Beach.

There have been operational deficiencies–OSS has never denied that. But instead of working with the organization, a majority of the city commission has decided to work over the organization. That’s a mistake, with consequences far beyond the loss of a beloved community institution.

And while we are discussing operational deficiencies let’s not forget that City Hall has been a mess for a while now with a steady parade of City Managers, department heads and rank and file staff leaving or being shown the door, often for dubious reasons. The city is plagued by water issues, the golf course, once a jewel has become a cow pasture, and we have gone from a community that once prized unity to a place that has made an art out of division and dysfunction.

OSS is not above accountability, no organization is, but this city is in no position to lecture anyone at this point in time. The difference is OSS stands ready to listen to constructive criticism while City Hall continues to fiddle while Rome burns.

Over the course of this mess, OSS has been hit with a raft of accusations and loaded words such as “corrupt”, “incompetent” and “non-compliant.”
The organization has acknowledged its shortcomings but it has also pushed back against the false accusations.

And if there is evidence of malfeasance bring it. Let’s charge those who broke the law. But innuendo is not good enough. Produce the evidence if you have it.

 

Old School Square’s  defense of its record has led to more recriminations as if the only proper response to the beating is the Animal House hazing scene in which the pledge is paddled and says “thank you sir, may I have another.”

Sorry, but in the real world, when you are bullied you get to push back.

I believe that the OSS eviction is a politically motivated hit. I’m not alone in that thought.
It’s part of a campaign to erase and cancel the past.

We are developing a bad habit in our country and in our city. If we repeat a lie over and over again we hope it eventually becomes the truth.

OSS is not corrupt or incompetent. It was never designed to be a profit center. It was tasked with lowering costs so it could be accessible to the community. It met that mission and more.

Its retired director Joe Gillie did not receive a “golden parachute”, he received a modest four year gift paid for by private donors because after 23 years or dedicated service to our city he had no retirement plan. The organization didn’t offer one. It should have and he was deserving because Mr. Gillie did a fine job and helped to create millions of dollars worth of value over the years. He is THE reason the city won three All America City Awards which helped Delray achieve a national profile while building civic pride. Pride: remember that quaint notion?

Commission’s get in trouble when things become personal; when it ceases to be about the community and the future; when it becomes about personalities.
Cities risk it all when decisions are driven by personal vendettas not sound analysis. They also risk a ton when empathy and humanity exit the building.

When this ugliness happens–when love gives way to anger— we risk a spiral. There are punches and counterpunches and pretty soon cuts begin to open, blood begins to flow.
We are either there now, or dangerously close. We need the adults in the community to reel us back in.

We need to stop.

But it can only stop when both sides resolve to refrain from hostilities long enough to sort through the issues. And there are many.
Leaders know how to do this. Failures don’t.

2 August, 2021 8 8 Comments

Try A Little Tenderness…

August 2, 2021 By 8 Comments

Tony the heroic lawn guy.

Otis Redding was right.

“It’s all so easy

All you got to do is try

Try a little tenderness.”

Actually, Jimmy Campbell, Reg Connelly and Harry M. Woods wrote the lyrics to that classic song, but Otis…well Otis…he brought the emotion.

So when you listen to that song you just feel it in your soul.

“When you get weary, try a little tenderness.”

The words empathy and tenderness have been rattling around in my head these days.

Naïve and romantic old me keeps thinking that if we deployed those words, sent them out into the world to do their magic, good things might happen.

Last week, I read a story about a lawn guy named Tony who was walking to work on Dunes Road in unincorporated Palm Beach County when he saw a car veer out of control. The driver was having a seizure and ended up on the front lawn of what turned out to be a rather nasty couple.

Tony went to render help; he grabbed the fender as the car rolled forward. Unfortunately, the car crushed his bag lunch, but he tried mightily to get the seizure victim out of the vehicle. He yelled for help as the man convulsed violently inside the car.

The owner of the home where the car stopped came outside– not to help– but to yell: “Get off our lawn! Get that man out of here! Have him die somewhere else!”

Oy….

Tony happened to recognize the seizure victim and knew where he lived, a few doors down. He ran to the man’s home, and they were able to summon help.

The Sheriff’s Office was happy to report that they received a call from the seizure victim a few days later. He called officers to find out Tony’s phone number, “I want to talk to Tony. He saved my life.”

The grateful man and his wife found Tony and gave him a big hug to thank him for his actions.

The Palm Beach Sheriff’s Office honored Tony with accolades and a photo on social media. The posting prompting an outpouring of love for Tony and a heaping of shame for the less than charming neighbors who were more concerned for their lawn than their neighbor’s life.

They should try a little tenderness.

And frankly, some of the vitriolic social media commenters may also want to consider a dollop of restraint.

Shame can be a teacher, but hatred and threats…well that just leads to more hatred and more threats.

We can do better.

About 10 years ago, we started a charity called “Dare to Be Great.”
The non-profit picked 10-12 Delray kids a year and we helped them pay for college. We also mentored the students and did what we could to connect them to opportunities.

We had one young man, who came to the United States from Haiti with his father. He told us what it was like to say goodbye to his mother (who he never saw again) and come to a country where he did not speak the language. He told us how a church gave him clothes and how he went to school every day passing gang members who tried to either recruit him or hurt him. He learned the language, excelled academically and when he went to Atlantic High School, he became an International Baccalaureate student and a leader in the school’s Criminal Justice Career Academy. His story blew us away.

He told us that his dream was to become a Delray police officer and eventually an FBI agent.

Long story short, we gave him a scholarship, he went to the University of Florida and excelled. With the help of then Delray Beach Police Captain Michael Coleman we were able to arrange an internship with the Gainesville Police Department.

But when the young man graduated, citizenship issues prevented him from getting a job in Delray. That was a real loss because this exceptional young man spoke Creole, which would have made him a great asset to our department. Eventually, he was able to sort things out and he ended up taking a job with the San Diego Police Department. He would visit with us when he came home to Delray.

Last week, he let us know that he realized his dream of becoming an FBI agent. He also let us know that he was grateful for the support—for the kindness extended to him by this community.

The next day, I saw a video of a speech that Vice President Kamala Harris gave to a group of Dreamers— “undocumented” kids who came to this country with their parents and went to college or the military. Their legal status remains in limbo year after year because our dysfunctional, divisive and polarizing politics doesn’t allow us to compromise or fix things.

How sad is that?

Come on folks, figure it out. That’s what we elect you to do.

And before you write to tell me that you don’t like the Veep, that’s great, but remember “try a little tenderness.”

Anyway, the Vice President told the kids that they were home.

This is their home. We care for you.

America, the beautiful. The land of opportunity.

Community is what provides that opportunity. Tony the lawn guy saved a life because he cared. A young man who came here with nothing is dedicating his life to law enforcement in a country he has come to love and cherish. He did the work but was helped along the way by teachers, mentors and a few philanthropists who cared.

Like Otis sang all those years ago…we do get weary.

I think we’re weary.

Maybe we ought to try a little tenderness.

This other stuff? Well it just isn’t working.

 

 

26 July, 2021 4 4 Comments

Peace, Love & Understanding

July 26, 2021 By 4 Comments

Delray’s Pride Intersection was vandalized in June.

Back in my newspaper days, we were trained to look for trends.

The first time something happened it was news.
The second time something happened we were told keep a close eye.
The third time something happened my editor called it a trend and we were tasked with trying to explain what was happening.
Well, by that definition we may want to pay attention to a troubling series of recent events. Let’s hope it doesn’t portend a trend.
In recent weeks, we saw the Pride  intersection in downtown Delray vandalized. The perpetrator is looking at a hate crime charge. In June, a group of teenage boys were said to be wreaking havoc in downtown Delray Beach, destroying property and harassing people.

There have been reports of the kids, some on bikes, some in ski masks, vandalizing storefronts, and screaming vulgar expletives at folks walking downtown in the middle of the day.

Ugh.

Then last week, a few yards away from the Pride Intersection,  the owner of the Ramen Noodle factory, was accosted by foul-mouthed idiots after being told politely that the restaurant was closing and they would have to eat their pizza—bought elsewhere—somewhere else.
I first saw a video of the incident when a friend sent me a link to Tik Tok. It nauseated me.
I then saw some newspaper coverage and was told the restaurant owner who videotaped the encounter on his phone had posted it on the restaurant’s Instagram page.
The post elicited hundreds and hundreds of messages of support , which was heartening to see. There are still many more good people than hate filled clowns. Thank goodness.
But still, such incidents leave a mark.
Seeing hatred up close is never easy. And seeing it unfold in your own community rattles you to your core.
The thugs in this particular video seemed to be middle aged and one appeared to be grossly inebriated slurring his speech. The other was coolly nasty, which was even more disturbing in my view.
The restaurant manager stood his ground and kept his cool. He remained polite despite a vicious barrage of stupid insults.
I found myself growing anxious watching the video because these seem to be the type of confrontations that can  spiral into senseless violence. Luckily, this time, it didn’t. But words sting and leave marks as well.
Let’s hope this isn’t a trend. But it does feel like something is wrong in our society these days.
There’s an awful lot of anger, hatred and violence in our world.
It’s scary and it’s alarming.
These “things” tend to build and accelerate.
Only love can drive out hate.
It’s time we summon our better angels before the haters in our midst ruin our community and our world.
We have the power, on the local level, to make our communities kinder and therefore better places.
The time is now and the tools are there for us to use.
6 July, 2021 4 4 Comments

All Healing Is Local

July 6, 2021 By 4 Comments
Happy birthday America.
I’m worried about you.
I don’t think I’m alone.
A lot of people love you— but that’s why we worry. We have a lot to lose if you are not healthy. You mean everything to us.
But there’s a path forward.
There’s a road we can go down. But it requires a choice and a lot of effort. We are up for it. We must be.

America, I’ve noticed a bit of a change since Covid came about in the way we treat each another.
On a national level, we demonize and brutalize each other. I mean it is plain ugly.

But on the personal  level, I am seeing more kindness, at least among people who know each other well.
I think the nastiness we are seeing has a lot to do with the impersonal nature of our national discourse. It is easy to label, disparage and judge people we don’t know. The vitriol is fueled by partisan “personalities” who traffic in snark and misinformation. They are effective at what they do so the level of anger is approaching tilt.
It’s scary because the constant fear mongering has one logical conclusion and that’s violence and estrangement.
The left views the right as an existential threat and the right views the left the same way.
It’s scary. Really scary.
As my friend pointed out last week, neither side possesses a mirror. Therefore, they have no ability to look at their own blemishes. And the truth is, both sides of the divide have a lot of explaining to do.
But I’m noticing that at the same time we are demonizing strangers, we are growing closer to the people we actually know.
That’s a good thing and may actually provide us a template for avoiding a costly and violent split.
Let me explain.
I firmly believe that if we remain on the course we are on, we will unravel as a nation.
If we continue to view each other as threats, it’s only natural that we will continue to pull apart and continue to talk past each other not too each other.
That’s not only dangerous, it is a recipe for destruction.
It’s apparent that we will not be able to count on our so-called leaders to mend our nation. In short, they are the problem and they are far from leaders. Leaders don’t divide. Leaders don’t lie.
Our leaders are failing us. They are failing us miserably. It’s shameful.
It will be up to ‘we the people’ to change things.
And again, the template can be found in the personal relationships we enjoy.
So let me share what I am seeing and experiencing. It can be expressed in two words: love and empathy.
The solutions to all of our domestic problems can be found in those two words.
I know it sounds trite.
I know it sounds sappy.
But tell me one challenge we have that can’t be made infinitely better with more love and more empathy.
With the advent of Covid,  I’m finding that my circle—which has always been nice—is even nicer.
There’s more appreciation. There’s more kindness and compliments. There’s more sharing and there is a lot more concern for each other’s well being. It’s fantastic.
Some of these people are left leaning and others lean right. But  they all put their relationships before their ideologies. I don’t think anyone feels they are sacrificing their principles they are just taking the time to hear and understand each other’s viewpoints.
They are listening.
What a concept.
And they see each other as people first not “libtards” or “Trumpers”. Imagine that.
There are times when I’ve seen some tension, but the tension always loses out to the affection shared by people who are true friends.
And that’s where the opportunity lies.
If communities across America designed places where people can meet and have safe, productive conversations we can get someplace in America and in our hometowns as well.
It won’t happen/can’t happen on social media.
It has to happen face to face.
Years ago, we did a lot of this work in Delray Beach through race relations initiatives, visioning exercises and other community projects that brought people from all walks of life together. Community dinners, neighborhood paint-ups—anything that brings people together and builds relationships is a step in the right direction. A step toward love and empathy.
If we care for each other, we will seek to understand each other. If we do that, division we are experiencing will be replaced by unity. And together we will move mountains.

17 May, 2021 4 4 Comments

Old Friends…

May 17, 2021 By 4 Comments

Old friends sit on the park bench like bookends.

What a slog we’ve been through.

What an exhausting and scary experience Covid has been for all of us.

Worldwide more than 3.2 million people have died from the virus and that number is likely an undercount. We have lost almost 600,000 Americans and despite a light at the end of the tunnel we are not out of the woods yet… but we can see the light that leads to normal.

Still, I don’t see us ever forgetting this experience. The pandemic has changed us—I’m hoping for the better.

Lately, I have been having some “Covid dreams”—it’s a phenomenon that I have read a few articles about. Some therapists call it a form of PTSD, others say it is how we humans process what we’ve been through. I don’t know what to call it, but for me the dreams are vivid and frequent.

I’m often trapped in a room, or a box with blank walls. In my dreams, I call out but no one hears me. I’m alone.

The other day, I  dreamt I was in a room filling with water chasing after a piece of paper. I’m not sure what the paper represents or what was on it but I just couldn’t get it. When I would get close, it would slosh away on a wave.

Like I mentioned before, I’m not alone in the crazy dream business.

A change in dreams due to a crisis is very common, says Deirdre Barrett, a dream researcher and assistant professor of psychology at Harvard. When we’re in a dream state, the brain is processing the same things we think about during the day. But when we’re asleep, the parts of our brain that handle logic and speech are damped down. The parts that handle visuals, however, are ramped up.

 

Barrett has been collecting dreams from people all over the world since the start of the pandemic. She says common dream themes range from actually getting the virus to natural disasters and bug attacks. Healthcare workers have regularly reported the highest level of stressful COVID-19 dreams, according to her data.

 

“The typical dream from the healthcare workers is really a full-on nightmare,” Barrett told “Science Friday” recently. “Just as bad as you’d see in war zones.”

Barrett has a new book out called “Pandemic Dreams.” I read a few excerpts online and some of the dreams she shares are jarring.

I have a feeling we will be dealing with the psychological, physical, economic and emotional side effects of this pandemic for the foreseeable future. If you are someone struggling, please know you are not alone and it’s OK to reach out for help.

If I may, here’s what has worked for me.

A dash of music, a dollop of comedy and a big heaping serving of family and friends.

For me, it’s just that simple.

Music is a tonic, comedy is medicine and friends and family are good for the soul.

Admittedly, it sounds trite and simple and in the Covid era, its been hard to see people in person.  But that’s changing.  If we’re vaccinated, it’s safe for us to get out and “see the world.” (Great song by Brett Dennen by the way).

Luckily, thanks to medical science, things are opening up quite a bit and thankfully technology has been there to fill in some gaps.

Readers of this blog know that I have a group of childhood friends who gather via Zoom every other week to reminisce about the glory days, joke around and talk about the issue du jour.

These calls have been a lifeline for all of us during this strange time.

I’ve known some of these guys for 50 years—we went through school together, knew each other’s parents and grandparents, our siblings, childhood homes, first cars, first girlfriends, favorite teachers etc.

We played ball together, went to each other’s Bar Mitzvahs and weddings and were there through the good times and the bad. And there’s been plenty of both. That’s just the way it goes.

Every one of us has had a pretty nice life—we enjoy the love of good women, have great kids and tons of life experience. But we’ve had our struggles too—career crises, financial highs and lows and health challenges too.

But through it all– through the decades, the distance and the din of life—we’ve managed to stay together or find each other again and again.

We used to see each other every single day and that is where the bonds were forged—in school, at a summer pool club, on long summer nights spent driving to nowhere special. It was enough in those days just to be together and as a result develop a shorthand that in our case has lasted a lifetime.

Over the summer, when I thought Covid would mark the end of my story, I thought about these guys and some of my newer friends that I’ve also grown very close too. I thought how friendship is one of life’s greatest gifts and how I wasn’t ready to say goodbye and how sad it was for those who tragically couldn’t beat this damn virus.

When we pass, a whole world dies with us—but some of that world lives on in the hearts and minds of those we leave behind.

Still, as  I reflect back on the year or so of Covid, I can’t help but also think about the positives.

I’ve been surrounded by love, concern and friendship. My wife and I have grown closer, I feel closer to my children, my sister, in-laws and my dad and his wonderful girlfriend. What a gift.

What an amazing gift we’ve been given—another day.

And then there’s the friendships. The new ones and the old ones.

That every other week Zoom call is a real highlight—a precious gift because it connects me to a group of guys who are my brothers. We fill the gaps in each other’s memories, support each other in our current ventures and know that we will always be there for each other. We also laugh. A lot. Its been good for the soul.

I have a great set of local friends too—and I really wish there was a way these groups could meet because I know they would hit it off instantly.

Maybe someday they will—like the old Simon & Garfunkel song “Bookends”—on some park bench somewhere.

Someday….

Until then, the old friends plan to meet via Zoom and my local buddies will gather at some of our favorite watering holes. Now that we are vaccinated we are beginning to feel safer.

Meanwhile, we have been forever influenced by our pandemic experience.

The other week, after another particularly vivid dream, I woke up with a phrase on my mind: “love is the prize.” Four simple words—corny I know.

But I’ve been thinking about those words a lot.

We live in an area that has great wealth and great poverty. In Delray, where I live, we are America in 16 square miles. In Boca, where I work, I see a whole lot of bling and pristine beauty. We live in paradise—we truly do.

Sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the craziness. I do all the time—until I’m grounded by a friend, a circumstance, my lovely wife or a situation at work and then I realize that love is the prize. I never had the words until that dream. Now I do.

Love is the prize.

I’ve found it.

I hope you do too.

3 May, 2021 15 15 Comments

20 Years Down The Road….

May 3, 2021 By 15 Comments

The 2001 Delray Beach All America City contingent. A quilt entitled “A Patchwork of Pride” accompanied the group which was ably led by Joe Gillie.

It’s been 20 years since Delray Beach won its second All America City Award in 2001.

It was a big deal back then.

More than 100 people made the trip from Delray Beach to Atlanta to attend a three day competition which included presentations from 30 really cool cities from across the country.

I was reminded of that magical time last week when we sat down to watch a new documentary on HBO entitled “Our Towns”—which is based on the wonderful book by James and Deborah Fallows who crisscrossed America in a small plane to learn and then share the stories of cities that rarely if ever make the news.

It’s a heartwarming documentary at a time when we need a reminder that there are places in this world and in this country that are working. There are still communities that share, care and dare to do big things—or little things together.

If you watch the documentary or read the book, you’ll want to visit Eastport, Maine, Redlands, California, Bend, Oregon and Charleston, West Virginia.

Five years ago, the Fallows who are accomplished journalists, put a call out to their readers: tell us about your towns. The responses poured in.

The writers had a hunch that beneath the headlines of division and strife that somewhere in America things were working, problems were being solved, opportunities were being created and hope was being rewarded. They were right.

They learned that developing a sense of community and a common language of change can help people and towns find a different path to a better future.

Along the way, we meet people tackling racial division, homelessness, polarization and economic despair by employing a can-do collaborative spirit.

And I thought, these are the traits celebrated by the All America City Award.

Over the years, the award itself has changed and is now focused on education. But back in 1993, when Delray won its first award and 20 years ago when it won its second before becoming the first city to win three awards with another win in 2017, the All America City Award took a broader look; education was still a component, but so was how communities worked to enhance their youth and senior populations among other topics.

In 2001, Delray Beach won the award by spotlighting three programs.

The Youth Enrichment Vocational Program provided high-risk youth between the ages of 14 and 23 with opportunities to learn job skills. The program was founded by Officer Johnny Pun and Community Service Officer Fred Glass. It was a bold and ambitious effort that led to the Delray Beach Police Department becoming the first PD in Florida to charter a school.

Community Neighbors Helping helped minority senior citizens living in one of the city’s poorest areas to improve their health, receive services and meet people outside their established environment. Finally, the city, in conjunction with the school district and community, had developed The Village Academy, a public school regulated by members of the community instead of a school board. The vision was to address the needs of at-risk elementary students living in low-income neighborhoods. This too was a bold and ambitious vision and was spearheaded by a community planning process known as the Southwest Plan.

Today, a mere 20 years later, only The Village Academy remains.

The charter school had a nice run before finally closing its doors. Johnny Pun, the energetic young officer, who dreamed of teaching kids to fix cars instead of stealing them died tragically in a motorcycle crash. Those who knew and loved Johnny —and if you knew Johnny you loved him— will never forget where they were when they received word of his accident. His bright light went out without warning. Some losses are just incalculable. I remember hearing the news and being unable to catch my breath. How can someone so alive be gone from us and his family forever? His loss leveled so many.

I’m not sure what happened with Community Neighbors Helping or its founder Edith Thompson, who was a full-time postal worker who spent her off hours tending to her neighbors. I remember Edith going to a local Publix to collect bread which she would give out to people who stopped by the National Church of God on Southwest 13th Street every morning. That initial effort grew to more than 20 local churches and senior centers.

Running a non-profit on a shoe string while working full time and raising three children is almost impossible to fathom.

I searched for Ms. Thompson and found her on Facebook. I’m not sure what happened to Community Neighbors Helping.  The last news story was written 19 years ago. Efforts and people come and go. That’s life I suppose.

The world is a constant whirlwind of change. People and efforts can be lasting or ephemeral, but they all matter.

The stories in “Our Towns” and in Our Town matter too.

We tend to get wound up about the latest project or passing controversy and I get it. Change can be difficult. It’s also a constant.

But these other efforts matter too. They are often lost and forgotten and that’s not good and it’s not healthy.

It can be easy to forget that communities can work.

America is not just talking heads screaming at each other on cable news or blowhard politicians pandering to the base.

Its neighbors taking bread to church so the hungry can have something to eat. Its officers looking at crime stats and saying there’s got to be a better way than just making arrests and throwing away the key.

It’s a community gathering in a A/C deprived church and dreaming of a different kind of school and making it happen.

That’s America. That’s also the real Delray.

So if you ask me what I miss, it’s not necessarily the old-time businesses that sometimes close—that happens. Although, I wish I could have one more breakfast at the counter of Ken and Hazel’s. I also wish I could go inside Boston’s on The Beach and be greeted by my friend Perry just one more time.

What I miss are the special people, the can-do spirit and the community based efforts that made me and so many others fall in love with Delray.

I miss the sense of community and of possibility—the belief that every year would be better than the last. For years and years that’s how it went.

The progress you see today has its roots in those special days. The problems you see today are because we have strayed from the formula that made this place so special.

The ingredients were simple:

Put Delray first.

Take your ego elsewhere.

Don’t be afraid to experiment.

Don’t be afraid to say yes, to seek out new voices and to try. That spirit gave us Old School Square, a revitalized downtown, historic districts, new schools and some cool special events.

Somewhere beneath the vitriol and division, that heart still beats.

It’s the part of our DNA we would be wise to rediscover. Until then, let’s find the magic wherever we can. And let’s separate the signal from the noise—don’t let the naysayers get you down.

I’m reminded of the old song That’s life.

“And as funny as it may seem some people get their kicks

stomping on a dream.  But I don’t let it, let it get me down

Cause this fine old world, it keeps spinnin’ around.”

Yes it does. Thank goodness.

 

I wanted to note the loss of two very special people in recent weeks.

Dr. Henrietta Smith passed April 21. She was 98 and extraordinary.
Dr. Smith was an educator, librarian and storyteller. She edited four editions of the Coretta Scott King Award Collection published by the American Library Association. She won the 2011 Coretta Scott King-Virginia Hamilton Award for Lifetime Achievement for her body of work and lasting literary contributions.

She taught at FAU and later became the first Black professor at USF in Tampa. In 2006, at age 84, she accompanied a medical team on a trip down the Amazon River telling stories to the children in the small villages they visited. Like I said, she was something.

She was also the mother of retired Delray Police Officer Robin Smith, who had a fine career in our city.

We’d see Dr. Smith around town over the years at community events and she was always kind, gracious and understated. She will be missed and always remembered. A true legend.

We also lost Ben Ruby on April 25.

Ben was a wonderful man.

 Ben was married to Susan Ruby our terrific former City Attorney. I got to know Ben over the years and he was always great to talk to.

Just a nice man, with a great sense of humor and an unforgettable smile. He and Susan were married for 55 years and set a standard for us all. This was a love affair for the ages and it was great to be a witness to it.

Five years ago, we were blessed to attend a 50th wedding anniversary celebration for Ben and Susan. We were so fortunate to share in a celebration of a special marriage. It takes a lot for the spouse of a public servant to loan their loved ones to the cause of bettering the community. During late night commission meetings I would often look at Susan and think of Ben waiting for her at home.

Ben was a smart man and an accomplished technologist for DHL and the Miami Herald. He was active in the Sunrise Kiwanis Club in Delray Beach and an all-around good guy. He and Susan (whom I adore) are in our prayers.

 

20 January, 2021 0 Comments

A Poignant Covid Memorial

January 20, 2021 By Leave a Comment

Rituals matter.
Love and empathy matters too.

We’ve lost 400,000 Americans to Covid-19, 100,000 since December.

It’s a staggering and brutal number.  And it will get worse before it gets better.

I was overcome with emotion as I watched our national Covid Memorial yesterday—seeing those beautiful lights and knowing that they represent the departed souls of our brothers and sisters.

It’s been six months since I was infected during the summer wave which pales next to our current Covid surge. I made it and am grateful for that daily and cognizant that so many have been lost.

We are living through a nightmare; a human nightmare that’s ending lives, upending families and threatening economies worldwide.

As I write this, I have friends with sick parents, friends who have lost relatives and friends who are dealing with long hauler health issues. It has been a nightmare.

While I am feeling so much better, I still wake up and go to sleep with headaches and have arm and leg pain. I looked at the 400 columns of lights and felt immense gratitude for the doctors, nurses and the prayers of friends that somehow for some reason saved me.

Others weren’t as fortunate.

And a nation aches for them. We also feel for those whose health has been compromised perhaps for the rest of their lives.

Much has been written about the politics of Covid, but not as much focus has been placed on the human toll of this virus.
That’s why it was so gratifying to see our beautiful nation’s Capitol illuminated with lights remembering those we’ve lost.

So many people of all ages and from all walks of life no longer with us. So many empty seats at the family table.
It’s important to grieve and to acknowledge the loss we have suffered.

These national rituals are reminders that we are one country—indivisible but only if we choose to be. It’s a choice.

Regardless, there is power in empathy.

Leaders look for opportunities to connect and educate.
They look for teachable moments that can move hearts and minds.

Yesterday’s Covid memorial was pitch perfect.
We needed to mourn, honor and remember—together. The together part is most important. Especially now.

28 December, 2020 0 Comments

A Trip Around The Sun

December 28, 2020 By Leave a Comment

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

Five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear

Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure? Measure a year?

In daylights,

In sunsets,

In midnights,

In cups of coffee,

In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

In five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes

How do you measure a year in a life?

“Seasons of Love” from the Broadway show Rent.

2020…oh my goodness.

We sure have been through a whole lot together.

Covid.

Social unrest.

Division.

So much division.

Before we say goodbye to a year I think we all yearn to see in the rear view, let’s pause for a few moments and reflect on what we’ve experienced.

This is the deadliest year in US history with deaths expected to top 3 million for the first time due mainly to the coronavirus pandemic.

Final mortality data for this year will not be available for months but preliminary numbers suggest that the United States is on track to see more than 3.2 million deaths this year or at least 400,000 more than 2019.

That’s a staggering number.

It’s almost too much to comprehend.

But we need to try because we end the year with so many families in pain, hungry and lost. Friends, our world needs a lot more empathy if we are to create a better world for our children.

U.S. deaths increase most years so some increase in fatalities is to be expected but the 2020 numbers amount to a jump of about 15 percent and could go higher. That would mark the largest single year percentage leap since 1918 when tens of thousands of US soldiers died in World War I and hundreds of thousands of Americans died in the flu pandemic.

Yes, this has been a helluva year.

We won’t ever forget 2020 but while we are anxious to turn the page and resume our lives, I’m hoping we don’t blindly rush forward. I’m hoping we drive slow and consciously think about how we can make this world a better place. I know that’s kind of a sappy sentiment, but sometimes the world can use a little sappiness.

We are at a crossroads. Down one path is more fighting, down another is a chance at healing and progress. We can’t have both. It’s one or the other.

I happen to think that we are very weary of fighting each other. So many people I talk to are tired of the callousness, the meanness and the insensitivity of our discourse.

I sense that we long for kindness, community, purpose, meaning, love and empathy.

We need to carve out a space for gentle hearts to thrive in this world.

How do we do that?

By standing up to bullies.

By rewarding kindness.

By extending a hand to those who need a lift up.

By setting the record straight– if we can.

By doing what we can to help others.

Simple things make a big difference.

While 2020 was brutal, it did force us to slow down. That’s a good and valuable thing.

If we were lucky enough to take the time to reflect, we realize that life is both fragile and precious.

Last holiday season, nobody knew the word Covid and yet the virus upended our lives and almost took mine; proof that we are vulnerable and tomorrow is not guaranteed.

While we know that intellectually, it’s easy to lose sight of our mortality and fail to prioritize what’s truly important. In 2020, gliding through life became harder and for many of us impossible.

So as we close in on another trip around the sun for some reason the words to a Jimmy Buffett song are swimming around my head.

“Yes I’ll make a resolution, that I’ll never make another one.

Just enjoy this ride on my trip around the sun. Just enjoy this ride.”

To my friends, I hope you enjoy the ride. Please stay safe and let’s do what we can to make 2021 a better year for everyone. That’s my prayer for the New Year.

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