25 November, 2024 14 14 Comments

The Greatest Gift

November 25, 2024 By 14 Comments

Orlando Reunion 2024.

Thanksgiving thoughts…

Aside from family, I find myself most thankful for friends.

I’m just back from Orlando where I met a half dozen friends for a reunion weekend. All but one of us turned 60 this year, the lone exception being Dave who is 59 and skipped a grade.

We don’t hold his youthful inexperience against him.

I’ve known Scott, Dewey, Ben, Howie, Joe and Dave for 50 plus years. We were boys when we met.  We’ve gone through every stage of our lives together.

It’s been 40 plus years since we last saw each other daily. We live far away from one another in places like California, Wisconsin, North Carolina, New York and the great state of New Jersey.

There have been marriages and kids, career changes, triumphs and losses. We’ve seen a lot together and apart.

When I looked around the dinner table where we gathered to share wine and stories, I thought of all the places we’ve been, all the things we’ve accomplished, who we’ve become and how we got here.

Combined we have traveled the world, been awarded patents, started, bought and sold businesses, raised kids, stared down bullies and took some crazy risks and luckily lived to share some cautionary tales. We have a great many stories…we are each other’s memories able to fill in gaps that otherwise would be lost to so many days gone by.

Favorite teachers, girlfriends who broke our hearts, dreams we chased, music we enjoyed, bars we frequented, parents and friends we’ve lost.

These days we are talking about off-ramps. When and if we can retire, how we worry about our children’s futures, how much we love them and how different they are from us at a similar age.

We’ve been getting together for these reunions for a while now. But this one felt different, more settled, more joyful and more appreciative. We know how special this is, we know how fragile too.

Most of the time our affection for each other has gone unsaid. We are guys after all. But this time we acknowledged how meaningful these friendships have been. This time we talked about how much we are thankful for this brotherhood we share. We are each other’s collective memories, we have each other’s backs, these are the men we can call in the middle of the night and know they would be on the next flight out.

Yes, these are my brothers. We will be there for each other until the end.

There’s comfort in that thought.

So much of life is impermanent. It’s a fast-paced world. It’s nice to know that at least one thing won’t change—our friendship. And when we leave this world, that won’t change either.

We managed to stay in touch through the years, but our friendship got tighter during the pandemic when Dave organized bi-weekly “Zoom happy hours” that continue today.

The early calls focused on the glory days and whatever happened to so and so, but eventually it morphed into discussions of current events, politics, sports, careers and family.

When I see these guys, I can still see the boys I met in 1970s Long Island. But I also see the men they’ve become and when I listen to them opine on the great issues of our time, I feel a sense of pride.

These are intelligent and thoughtful men. These are good people. I’m proud of them— in so many ways.

And then someone will tell a gross joke and for a moment I’m 16 again excited about my rusty old Mustang, hanging out with my buddies in Ben’s kitchen sharing New York style pizza and thinking about the next good time. The road and the possibilities seemed endless in those days.  It was all ahead of us….

I’m fortunate, I’ve made lots of friends over the years. I’m in touch with college buddies and met them for dinner a few months back on Atlantic Avenue. I kept up with a few old work colleagues and made lots of friends in and around Delray.

I love them all.

I’ve also lost a few friends over the years and drifted from others too. It happens, I suppose. But I’ve been lucky in this part of my life. I’m thankful for special people.

I know there’s a crisis of loneliness in America. The Surgeon General has labeled loneliness a public health issue.

There’s a lack of community these days. I’ve seen the change in Delray, which used to be a more social place.

But I don’t think we’re an anomaly.

These days we are lost in our phones, struggling to make ends meet, caring for our children and our parents, hustling to keep our heads above water.

It can be exhausting. But we find renewal in friendship. We are energized by the intimacy and the closeness of our best relationships.

So, I’m grateful for these moments with friends. The calls, the texts, the infrequent in-person reunions, the occasional meetups over lunch at Papas Tapas, Granger’s and Wood & Fire. This is what makes us rich.

This holiday season I hope you’ll connect with friends and family.

Maybe seek out an old buddy or two.

As I think about this last reunion, I have a few parting thoughts.

First, I cherished every moment of our time together. I felt present, not distracted.

We are getting older, we’ve had a few close calls, we’ve all lost parents, a few siblings and people we went to school with.

We are thankful for what we have. (Even the sophomoric insults have charm when you’re not sure when you will see each other next).

When we were kids, my buddy Scott and I talked endlessly about the future.

One time, or maybe more, I put on an old Simon & Garfunkel album that featured the song “Old Friends.”

The song imagines two old pals sitting on a park bench.

Old friends sitting on a park bench like bookends, their memories brushing the same years.

They note how strange it is to be 70.

I told Scott when we were teenagers that someday that would be the two of us. We would meet on that proverbial park bench and reminisce.

We are a decade away.

It’s getting closer and closer.

That notion once seemed so far away, but now it’s almost here. I can see the bench.

And I’m thankful that we may just get there—together. All of us.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

20 December, 2021 13 13 Comments

The Ties That Happily Bind

December 20, 2021 By 13 Comments

Retired Delray Beach Police Officer Chuck Jeroloman.

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

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

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

I look forward to this dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They do miss it.

And oh, the stories they can tell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It worked.

It all worked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They are invaluable.

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

29 March, 2021 7 7 Comments

Culture Is The Killer App

March 29, 2021 By 7 Comments

I don’t have a lot of interest in revisiting the recent Delray Beach municipal elections.

You probably need a break from the negativity. I know I do.

Out of all the analyses I’ve seen, I recommend you take a look at Randy Schultz’s take. I think it’s a pretty accurate analysis. Here’s a link:  https://www.bocamag.com/boca-delray-election-results-ruminations/

 

Still, I do think it’s worth taking a deeper dive into the topic of culture which was hotly debated during the last cycle and has been an issue for a very long time.

The fact that culture and civility continue to be debated indicates that it’s lacking. After all, if things were humming, we wouldn’t be talking about it. (We’d be humming. We’re not.)

It’s hard to remember, but there was a time when Delray Beach had a remarkable culture; remarkable not perfect. There’s a difference.

There’s always been strife, friction and some level of toxicity in local politics and community life. That comes with the territory. But it was largely manageable and what rancor existed was overwhelmed by the positive relationships that had formed throughout the city. Those relationships formed because major efforts were made to create initiatives that brought people together and asked them to work closely on topics of importance to the community.

Evidence of this dynamic is all around us.

Cities don’t succeed without a coordinated and concerted effort. The vibrancy we enjoy is not an accident, it’s a result of planning, tons of citizen input, relentless execution and investment–both public and private. The reward is our quality of life.

Over the years, these engagement efforts were acknowledged in the form of  a few All America City Awards which honors a city’s ability to identity its problems and create solutions that bring people together. It was nice validation, but the creation of a special sense of community was the real prize.

Another example of Delray’s strong culture was how we were able to navigate some really sticky situations and tragedies over the years.

From severe hurricanes and divisive development projects to a tragic shooting and the controversial move of Atlantic High School, we’ve had our fair share of challenges. But we survived them all with our civic fabric sometimes strained but largely intact.

Thankfully, we haven’t had any natural or man-made disasters to navigate of late, but yet we seem to be at each other’s throats a whole lot. Which begs a question.

Why?

Why are sea grapes such a fraught issue? Why is every CRA RFP (request for proposal) a bloodletting or a lawsuit?

Why has there been so much turnover at City Hall?

We can blame social media —and Facebook surely has served as an accelerant for political strife— but it’s more than that. It goes deeper.

Delray’s secret sauce is/was its culture. If we lose that, we lose everything.

Close watchers of all things Delray worry about the divisions they are seeing. They know these breaches don’t heal themselves and they long for leaders who work on the issues that drive us apart.

I long for the days when leadership was defined by people who could rise above the noise and inject much needed calm and common sense into the day’s heated debates. Today, we seem to laud the bomb throwers, grandstanders and loud mouths who launch missiles but never seem to get a darn thing done.

They start problems, but they don’t solve them.

They add to gas to fires, but never seem to think about how things might change if they took a deep breath and offered up a few words of conciliation. They are, however, always equipped with a barb.

Oh yes, these charmers are quick with a sound bite, quick to label and even quicker to condemn.

Here come the “special interests”—be very afraid.

Here come the “power brokers” —lock up your loved ones because they are plotting to pillage the village.

Malarkey—to quote my grizzled former city editor who once told me that malarkey was an Irish term that was three degrees worse than blarney. He was a colorful character but that’s a story for another day.

Anyway, we can do better.

Because despite the great weather, the fact that we live in a place desired by just about everyone, we don’t seem to be very happy with how we choose our elected officials or how we handle difficult issues.

Rampant turnover, nasty elections and Facebook bullies are just symptoms. The disease is a poor civic culture.

Luckily, the disease is curable even though it won’t be easy.

It will require every stakeholder who cares to do their part and it will require us to raise our standards of behavior.

We need a reckoning.

Now I happen to think we’ve had many—Covid was a wake-up call, the nastiest mayoral race in memory was another, the Jan. 6 insurrection was yet another. Reckonings come in all shapes and sizes. They are international, national and local.

But reckonings can be healthy if we see them as teachable moments. To quote therapist and best-selling author Esther Perel, “reckonings require us to invest in the core facets of relational health: empathy, dialogue, commitment, responsibility, the sharing of power and resources.”

We have been through some traumas. Trauma requires healing and collective trauma requires collective healing.

It looks like we will eventually move beyond Covid-19 although the emotional scars will be with us forever. Our national divisions need to be addressed. We the people need to insist on that happening. So far, we haven’t.

As for our local divisions, we have a real opportunity if we choose to see it and seize it.

We can insist on better debates about community issues and more stakeholder input. We can insist on substance, performance, accountability and civility. Those words are not unreachable ideals; they are the basic table stakes of community.

If you lack of any these traits, you just cannot sustain success.

We have substantive issues to address, we have big time opportunities too but we won’t get to any of that if we don’t develop a winning culture.

So here’s what I’m suggesting:

We should develop a “Geneva Convention” for our elections and how we treat each other.

Post-Covid we need to go back to the old playbook and revive initiatives and programs that built community such as:

Community Dinners in which associations are invited to pot luck get togethers where they can meet their neighbors across the city.

Charrettes to discuss community issues and opportunities that are open to all stakeholders. We absolutely have to get away from a resident vs. business dynamic. Building a quality culture is not a zero sum game, it’s a win-win endeavor.

We need to facilitate intelligent discussions about development, gentrification, affordable housing, climate change and how it affects Delray, infrastructure, crime, education, culture, historic preservation, race relations and more.

It’s a lot of work but it’s worth it because these issues don’t go away if we ignore them, they just fester. But before we can address anything we have to focus on how we treat each other.

I believe, strongly, that if we create a more civil and professional culture in Delray Beach, we will end the turnover issues that have plagued our city and dinged our reputation .

And guess what?

We will end up getting a whole lot done. You can’t address problems or seize opportunities if you’re a divided community spending precious time settling scores and finding ways to be vindictive.

We can and must do better.

 

6 July, 2020 5 5 Comments

Hello Old Friends

July 6, 2020 By 5 Comments

Sorry for the poor pic. Best I can do.

When you get to be my age you find yourself having lived a few lives.

There’s childhood. The teen years. College. Early adulthood. The parenting years and now the (mostly) empty nester years.
It flies by in an instant.
But the blur of years leaves you with perspective, a few scars and several buckets of friends from the various eras and roles we play in life.
I have friends from my years in the newspaper business, and friends from my time spent volunteering in Delray. I have friends at the office, business friends, college friends and friends from my time in Leadership Florida.
I cherish them all and feel extremely fortunate to have had good friends at every step of the journey.
I am so grateful.
This pandemic has made me even more appreciative because I miss seeing my friends and being able to make plans to get together.
I’m sure you do too.
For me, it’s one of the worst things about this miserable, exhausting and scary year.
But every two weeks at 9 pm I pour a drink and pull up a chair and tap into a cross section of friends that span my childhood, teen, college, early adult and now middle age years.
As we log onto Zoom, I see all these old, familiar faces populate my screen and for an hour or so, I’m transported to a better world. It’s a world of jokes and conversation, a world of memories and future plans, a world that’s familiar and not as uncertain.
I’m on the Zoom with guys I’ve known since I was 6 and 8. We know each other’s parents and siblings, we played Little League together, took the Long Island Rail Road to “the city” to explore and fondly remember each other’s first cars.
I knew their teenage crushes and heartbreaks, what teams they root for and which teachers they loved. We can complete each other’s sentences.
Together, we fill gaps in our collective memories but there are some sacred stories that none of us will ever forget.
Over the months we’ve been doing these calls we’ve added some guys who drifted away—never gone—because the bond is too strong —but drifted nonetheless.
As I mentioned, time flies. And our once daily connection slipped as we moved, married, had kids, went into business, changed jobs and lost our hair while also losing  the ability to see each other regularly. But we never let go of the basic friendship we shared. And now that we are comfortably in our 50s, I believe we will be friends for the rest of the ride.
Still, time is an interesting thing we grapple with.
I can still see the young men in the visages of middle age guys who populate my screen.
I can still see their youthful essence.
There’s Dave’s curiosity, Dewey’s kindness, Joe’s enthusiasm, Steve’s quick wit, Scott’s ever present grin and Brian’s ability to frame an issue.  Ben’s still a rascal and Howie has the same laugh he had as a kid. Greg is still the broad shouldered body builder he became as a teenager.
I’m proud of these guys. Every last one has been successful in their careers. They all have nice families and good lives.
We are spread out now—from California and Arizona to North Carolina, Virginia, New York, South Carolina, Wisconsin and New Jersey.
Combined we have seen a lot of the world and covered a whole lot of ground—kids, grandkids, businesses, hobbies, marriage, love, loss and adventure.
Some of the guys have been there every step of the way. Others drifted for periods, but were always there in our memories.
But thanks to the pandemic and the efforts of my friend Dave, we are all together again every other Wednesday on a screen for 90 minutes of laughs and friendship during a hard, hard time.
I’m over this miserable year. But when we get past this—and we will most certainly will—I will remember this as the year that my oldest friends came together to help each other through the storm.
I always knew I could count on these guys—for a lifetime.
I hope this inspires you to reach out to an old friend.
7 October, 2019 2 2 Comments

Boca Lead Is A Revelation

October 7, 2019 By 2 Comments

Pastor Bill Mitchell traded a successful career in real estate for a spiritual mission. Boca is benefitting from his wisdom.

I’ve become a huge fan of Boca Lead, the monthly speaker series hosted by Pastor Bill Mitchell at Boca Raton Community Church.

Every month, 400 plus people gather to hear a positive message designed to help them live a better life, run a better business and build a better Boca. The demand is so strong that Boca Lead added a dinner series with a debut last week that attracted more than 200 people.

It’s an inclusive group—all faiths are made to feel welcome—and the message is not only smart it’s extremely relevant. My good friend Karen Granger turned me onto the series when she invited me to sit with her colleagues at 4 Kids. I owe her a debt of gratitude, because Boca Lead has become an important part of my month.

As a result of Karen’s intro, our company is buying a table most months so we can be inspired to lead, mentor and build a better community. We all have a role in making that happen.

In its 5 year existence, Boca Lead has attracted over 5,500 different people to the monthly talks and now with dinner sessions the audience is sure to grow and deservedly so, because in a word it’s awesome. And we desperately need to apply the lessons being taught every month.

I’ve gotten to know Pastor Mitchell since attending my first Boca Lead and I’m incredibly impressed by his insights, devotion to the community and his work across the globe. He and his wife, Elizabeth, are remarkable people and talented communicators. The ability to command a room month after month—to inspire, motivate and get us to stop our busy lives so that we may focus on what’s really important is truly something special to witness.

Every month, I don’t think he can top the prior month, but he seems to do so.

This month was no exception.

The title of the talk was “Drifting” which will soon be an e-book. I just finished “Shifting” another e-book by Pastor Mitchell that I found riveting. Again, the message is universal and this Jewish guy from New York can relate to the insights and better yet, can apply the principles to my life and business.

Drifting talked about how distractions, a lack of integrity and another assorted noise lead us astray.

The talk ended with four suggestions for building community—a subject I have been passionate about for as long as I can remember. A sense of community attracted me to Delray Beach, pushed me into a stint in public service and has kept me engaged since moving to Florida in 1987.

Pastor Mitchell posited that in order to build community you need four elements:

Proximity—you can’t build community from afar, people need to be brought together. But that’s just a start. We can all live in the same neighborhood, work at the same company or attend the same school but if we don’t mix we can’t build community. So proximity is a must, but it’s just a start.

Hospitality—is necessary to build community. We need to break bread with people, extend them courtesies, and invite them into our homes and lives if we are to grow close.

Relationship—we need to work on building relationships with our neighbors in order to build community. It’s not enough to just wave hello, we need to work on forging real relationships.

Peacemaking—this one fascinating. It’s not peacekeeping, it’s the ability to make peace not the ability to keep people from hurting each other. This is so important in a community. It struck me that we are lacking peacemakers in our world today and in our local communities too.

As Pastor Mitchell walked us through the list, a thought crossed my mind.

Social media—which pretends to build community does not possess any of the four community building blocks.

It’s not proximate, you can sit in your pajamas and spew venom on Twitter without ever having to face the target of your wrath, there’s no means of providing real hospitality other than maybe sending an emoji, social media doesn’t really foster real relationships beyond a post here and a reply there and finally social media does not seem to have any mechanism for peacemaking. People start a lot of wars on Facebook, but I have yet to see them make peace.

Now admittedly, I am a social media user. I enjoy Facebook for allowing me to share photos of my dogs and stay in touch with old friends and classmates. But I don’t enjoy seeing the posts about my town that seek to divide, label and malign. There are a whole lot of them, entire pages devoted to ripping the town apart.

Truth be told, I think it has harmed our sense of community and nearly destroyed civic pride. That’s a lot of damage to overcome.

We are not the only city that has suffered this fate and the fact is America is incredibly and maybe hopelessly divided at this point in our history. It’s a sad time, it really is.

I don’t see how this ends or how we can magically unwind some of the abhorrent behavior we’ve all witnessed.

But there was a time, it now seems so long ago, when I and many others viewed Delray Beach as an oasis in a desert. A place where you always felt the best was yet to come and that every problem could be solved.

Please don’t tell me it didn’t exist, because I experienced it and so have others. I have witnesses and these days most of them shake their heads when you mention the current state of affairs.

That doesn’t mean that we were conflict free, we surely weren’t.

Worthing Place, Atlantic Plaza part 1, the Jerrod Miller shooting—and on and on the list goes. There was a time when African Americans could not safely cross Swinton and couldn’t use the public beach but….despite those serious challenges there was this feeling that we could work things out, that we could and would somehow find a way forward even in the face of tragedy.

When I think back on how past controversies resolved themselves, I see Pastor Mitchell’s four pillars of community building come to life. Differences were solved because people got together, built relationships, extended hospitality and made peace.

C. Spencer Pompey was a peacemaker extraordinaire.

He knew the power of relationships and hospitality and so he got people together and eventually we opened up our beaches.

We were bitterly divided over development after Worthing Place so we got together and worked on a Downtown Master Plan.

When a developer wanted to put 10 pounds of you know what in a five pound bag on Atlantic Plaza, the city commission brought in designers and the community to try and find a plan that everyone could embrace.

Sometimes the efforts produce solutions (Mr. Pompey succeeded) and sometimes they fall short (the developer walked away from the plan the designers and community produced) but the effort always seemed to matter. You were extended credit for trying. You built relationships by coming to the table and working on issues large and small.

This kind of peacemaking doesn’t seem to be happening online and it’s destroying us—rapidly.

I’ve been going through old files in a sometimes futile effort to de-clutter my life.

I recently stumbled across a flier called the Atlantic Gazette that absolutely ripped me and some of my friends to shreds. It was anonymous and really ugly. You get these things when you are in public life or even if you just venture an opinion or an idea. I guess it comes with the territory.

When I was young and new to the game, I would cringe at this stuff. But I learned that despite the best efforts of critics, most people never saw the fliers, email blasts or in one case the banner flown over the beach.

Life went on, the people who know you laugh it off, the critics tell their friends “see, I told you so” and soon it’s on to the next subject.

But today, social media is ubiquitous. It’s hard to avoid the toxicity.

Joni Mitchell urged us to get “back to the garden” in her classic song Woodstock.

Pastor Mitchell reminds us that we need to get back to proximity, relationships, hospitality and peacemaking before it is too late.

Can we?
Will we?
What if we don’t?

For more information on Boca Lead. To view past talks (highly recommended) and for ticket information please visit https://www.bocalead.com

15 April, 2019 2 2 Comments

Old Friends

April 15, 2019 By 2 Comments

Scott, Ben and yours truly.

My old friend, I apologize

For the years that have passed

Since the last time you and I

Dusted off those memories

The running and the races

The people and the places

There was always somewhere else I had to be

And time gets thin, my old friend

Don’t know why…Tim McGraw, My Old Friend

 

There’s something comforting about old friends.

Something so easy that within moments of seeing them you pick up where you left off regardless of the time and the miles, the running and the races, the people and the places.

My childhood friend Ben was in town last week, passing through on his way to see his father in Port St. Lucie. So I rang up Scott–another old friend—and we found a cozy bar in Boca to reconnect. It took about 30 seconds and we were lost in laughs and good conversation.

We will all be 55 this year.

Ben and Scott go back to the third grade. I met Ben in junior high and I’ve known Scott since I was 8 or 9.

That’s a long, long time.

We’ve covered a lot of miles in life—a lot together (school, first loves, neighborhoods, first cars, road trips, youthful adventures) and a whole lot apart.

Frankly, the last thirty years were a blur for all of us.

Marriage, kids, careers, businesses, travel—deadlines and commitments as Bob Seger sings —what to leave in, what to leave out.

And then one day you’re 54 and you walk into a bar to meet two of the best friends you’ve ever had or ever will have and time melts away instantly.

Ben still has his boyish face and Scott still has the sense of a humor of a 12 year-old so the years seem to dissolve as if by magic.

We didn’t talk about the glory days (oh, maybe a little) but we do talk easily about our lives today and our hopes for the future. There’s always a lot to catch up on because we don’t see each other like we used to. We used to spend every single day together, but those days are long past.

Still,  there may be even more to talk about now because when we ran together as kids I knew everything about these guys—where they had travelled, what they were thinking (girls, cars, sports, music that was pretty much it) and what was happening in school.

But these days, they are full of mystery to me. They’ve been lots of places, seen lots of things and when we talk I hang on every word because it’s fresh, it’s interesting and I really, really care for these guys.

I didn’t have brothers growing up —so they are it. Something beyond friends.

I know that regardless of where life takes us—Park City, Utah, Red Bank, N.J. Raleigh, Asheville, Coral Springs or to Mr. W’s house in Port St. Lucie—there will always be a reunion. If life were a cruise with various ports of call, these guys and a few others would be my muster station. We will find a way to stay in touch and if emergencies strike we will surely be there for each other.

We can talk in a comfortable shorthand of sorts, because when these guys talk about their parents and siblings or I talk about mine, I have a picture in my mind. I know all of these people.

Same with our other friends.

We are well aware that we have been given a gift—each other’s friendship. We appreciate it, we enjoy it and we are grateful for the laughs, the talks and the experiences that we did share.

I’ve made a lot of friends over the years. Lost a few too and that can rattle a guy because I certainly wasn’t used to that.

But these guys…well let’s just say I know that they will always be there.

And for that I am eternally grateful.

 

 

 

 

25 January, 2016 0 Comments

Key Traits of Exceptional Leaders

January 25, 2016 By Leave a Comment

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Harvard Business School just released an exhaustive 10 year study on leadership.

The study– which included interviews with 2,700 leaders and analytical data crunching courtesy of IBM’s Watson– came up with the following key traits of exceptional leaders:

They Know the Whole Business—exceptional executives and leaders have deep knowledge of how their organizations work and how the pieces fit together to create value and deliver results.

Great leaders understand the big picture and the different disciplines that make an enterprise hum. They strengthen the “seams” to minimize weaknesses and make sure silos don’t exist.

 

They are great decision-makers—Exemplary leaders have the ability to declare their views, engage others’ ideas, analyze data for insights, weigh alternatives, own the final call and communicate the decision clearly. No hand-wringing, no waffling, no blaming others. Because they are great decision-makers, they are also exceptional at setting priorities. They know what’s important and avoid overwhelming the system with competing goals. They tend to balance instinct with analytics; trusting their gut but getting and trusting the facts too.

 

They know the industry—they study their fields and understand the ever changing world they work in. They know they have competition and they mind the landscape and don’t make decisions in a vacuum. They have innate curiosity.

 

They form deep, trusting relationships—they meet the needs of key stakeholders, they communicate in compelling ways and reach beyond superficial transactions to form mutually beneficial relationships. Their legacy becomes a positive reputation for delivering results while genuinely caring for those they serve.

Of the four traits, relational failures often tripped up even those who scored high on the other three attributes.

The best executives develop trust and invest in developing their own emotional intelligence and actively seek feedback on how others experience them.

Do these traits correspond to political and community leadership? My guess is that they do.

Certainly, we want our mayors and council members to know the whole community, be great decision-makers, know the industry they are involved in (building competitive, sustainable and happy cities/communities) and we would all benefit if they form deep, trusting relationships with the people they serve.

So the next time you think about your elected leadership on the local, county, state and federal levels ask yourself if they have these traits. It’s hard on a federal level to develop close relationships—unless of course you write big checks (sigh), but on a local level it’s not too much to ask for…it’s the beauty of local government.