Friends

Christmas is all about family. The opportunity to experience the ritual of family gatherings and a religious experience. Then New Years comes and we perform the ritual of promise. Promising to do things better. The promise of performing the tasks we failed to achieve this past year. The promise of taking better care of ourselves and the people around us. The promise of a better year or maybe that is just a hope. A more achievable promise would be the promise of acknowledging the present and the small gifts you could receive every day through the act of being present..

Case in point -

Two days after Christmas I experienced what I will call a friends day. It began with a cappuccino with the husband and wife team that own a fabulous Italian restaurant in Sausalito. We were at a good replica of an authentic Italian pasticceria. It was a different conversation than a customer/owner conversation. It was just three friends talking about the challenges of life and the need to find that space in ones life to recharge from the stress of the daily grind. It was also the kind of conversation that makes for a lasting friendship.

My coffee with friends was followed by a four mile walk with another friend — she also poses as my daughter. It’s one of the great benefits of parenting. If you stay the course, those children turn into your friends and those friends are often better than family. As we walked through the beautiful foothills of Mt. Tam, the benefit of recent rainfalls was on display. Formerly dry creeks were now alive with rushing water. The moist air clung to the trees heavy with the rich color of green recently bestowed on the branches thanks to weeks of rain. It was in this beautiful backdrop that we were able to discuss the issues of our lives. Not as father and daughter but like friends without the judgement curated by family dynamics.

My final Friends experience was a drink at “The NoName Bar . A growing friendship with a couple of guys in the hotel business. Not investors but front line people. You know the people you first see, that set the tone of your experience. In a similar way that the host at a fine restaurant either makes your evening memorable or forgettable regardless of the food. This conversation went from bar to dinner and probably ended a little late. The price of a slow start to the next day was well worth the broad reaching conversation and reminiscences of the Bay Area and the characters who lived in Southern Marin.

It wasn’t yet 2022 but I was proud of myself for seizing the moment of these interactions with friends. Chose not to rush off, or feign the importance of a nonexistent meeting. I chose to stay the course and make myself sincere, available and present. A lot more rewarding than losing 10 pounds.

Happy New Year

The Winter Solstice…

At the start of my “writing week” I was fired up to dispel the fantasy of the Pilgrims coming to the “New World” for religious freedom and writing about the “political hack” who is posing as an impartial Supreme Court Justice. But four days before Christmas Day it just didn’t feel right —- wait until January.

I started this blog 70 weeks ago. I have written opinion pieces, personal reflections and descriptions of treasured moments every week. Here we are, Christmas 2021, and we are still faced with a withering number of problems and issues which test the very emotional capacity of our fragile minds and bodies. It is the Winter Solstice today December 21st. We are celebrating the return of the sun as the days begin to get longer. From the days of Pagan celebrations, people of nearly any religious background choose the winter solstice to gather with family and friends. Certainly in the United States, Christmas and Hanukkah dominate the celebratory landscape. However, there are many others religions around the world that choose to celebrate at this time of year. Many of our treasured symbols, such as the Christmas Tree, have moved from pagan origins to Christian symbolism. Instead of railing against the inequities of the human condition, I want to take this time to thank all of you who take the time to read my musings. My audience has continued to grow although at a glacial pace, but grow nonetheless. I derive a great deal of pleasure from the opportunity to write, but nothing gives me more pleasure than to know that many of you find these writings to be of value.

No matter how you celebrate at this time of year, I wish you and your loved ones the very best. My hope is that you will have an opportunity to connect with each other in the same deep way that I was able to connect with my family over the Thanksgiving week. Regardless of the expression you choose at this time of year I hope it is heartfelt and sincere. Whether its Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah or another expression, receive it, not in its correctness, but in its sincerity and warmth. I thank you for your kindness and the time you have allocated to read my blog. I wish you all a blessed time of celebration with whomever you choose to celebrate the return of the sun and the sincere hope for a better outcome.

With gratitude,

Fred

I Don’t Know….

….about you but …..

“From the flight deck, this is your pilot, Sky King, we will be leaving as soon as the technicians….. garbled———inaudible———-buzzing ——— muffled ——- buzzing ….finish repair work on the starboard engine….. Thank you for choosing United” Technicians? Engine? A Boeing 787-8 Dreamliner cost $248.6 million… You would think that for that price you would get a “PA” system that was clear and understandable. Seriously am I the only one that cannot understand a word they say? Except for the bad words - delay - problem - waiting - just a few more things to load on the plane - which are mixed in with unintelligible noise, these public address messages are not decipherable. The airport “PA” system is no better. Will Mr. St….buzzing noise … emergency … more buzzing white courtesy phone. Is that for me? Emergency? In the age of technology can’t we find a system to deliver clear messages? I don’t know about you but I can’t understand a word they are sayn’

One more thing: I spent the last few days of a recent trip to Italy developing a heavy case of anxiety listening to the continual dribble of messages regarding Covid, rules for leaving a country, tracking forms etc. In reality the person behind that computer screen at the departure gate that used to irritate you with the constant clicking of the keyboard keys as if they were writing a thesis instead of checking you in, is now our first line of defense for Covid protocol violators. After all of the back and forth, rules, and 22 messages from British Airways, the only thing you needed was a passport, a negative rapid test, oh, and you had to remember your address. Really??? C’mon man!!

That’s all I have this week. I still miss Italy and all of the people that made the last three weeks so memorable, loving and downright incredible. It was and is a constant reminder of the value of friendships and family. Never take for granted those precious moments of focused, concentrated time with the people you love and care about. They are sandwiched in between the white noise of those PA announcements that you cannot understand. So when you can hear the words clearly remember to appreciate the moments of clarity and understanding. Embrace those moments ,there is more white noise ahead.

“Did the pilot say “emergency landing?”

The Gift That Keeps on…

…or the unintended value of globalization

Richard Nixon was the first US President to recognize the value of China and globalization. In 1972 he visited Beijing as the first President to visit the PRC ending 25 years of isolation. This has been lost in the scandal of his presidency and he never received credit for his forward thinking. Under Clinton the real economIc value of globalization came to the forefront of economic power and political debate. What’s-His-Name tried to dial back the clock and throw the US into isolation mode. A theme not uncommon for the US and its relations with others. The world is too integrated to ever retreat to full isolation but the short sighted continue to try. The real value of globalization is the acceptance of others through the increase in travel and the development of personal relations.

Example:

I received a text today from all of the participants in my family’s Thanksgiving trip to Firenze, Italia. The back and forth of this multi-person text was both fun and rewarding.

One son went home and immediately started cooking Italian cuisine and using his prize from the owner of Osteria del Cinghiale to serve Italian wine with his meal. My other son has been spoiled by true Italian cuisine and is now a US Italian food critic. My daughter is watching Italian movies with her husband and four children. My other daughter is missing her family and Italy so she and her boyfriend are drowning their sorrows with,, you guessed it, —- Italian wine. Some of this is true and some is an exaggeration. But what is not exaggerated is the effect this trip has had on my family. It is the personal side of globalization. When you take enough time to interact with another culture; attempt to learn the language; take a personal interest in the people; you open your mind and heart to another view. In addition to touring and learning a little about history and culture we spent time with six people who helped us throughout our trip. There is a choice when dealing with people of service. Treat them as if you are entitled to be served or treat them as friends who have a different job than you. The latter path opens up a whole new world of understanding and exploration. Thankfully my family took the latter path. There was no better example than when we went to the public market in Florence and had lunch at the restaurant owned by one of our server’s family. Her parents and grandparents were so incredibly generous and kind. I truly believe this is because we demonstrated a sincere interest in them and they in us.

My family is a small example of the benefits of globalization and empathy. An understanding that we do not have all the answers and the more we open ourselves to alternatives the more our lives become richer.

Grazie il bel paese. Ci vediamo presto

“Don’t be sad it’s over…”

…Be happy cause it happened.”

Ok, all you “glass half empty people” I get it. We always want to appreciate the benefits of the present, especially when the present is a fabulous trip with family. Now some families might not be excited about a trip together, but the week I spent with my family was amazing. Then it was followed by an additional week with ones fidanzata. My family trip for Thanksgiving was beyond expectation. This family has a long history surrounding Thanksgiving as we have spent all previous Thanksgivings at the same place in California. But as the prices went up their hospitality offering went down, so my daughter and I decided Italy was the perfect replacement. The venue was spectacular and Tuscany is lovely. However that is not what made this trip wonderful. Like many families we had not been together for two years and now in this incredible setting, we were all together. The chance to sit next to a different family member every night; the “no pressure” touring each day; the one-on-one moments were all part of the magic that made this trip special. Spending a week with my grandchildren gave me the unique opportunity to connect and form real friendships. There was no pressure to fill the day with explorations. If you wanted to go you could, if you wanted to be different —- no judgement. However, we all came together for breakfast and dinner and that experience was special. Our individual driving experiences in Italy — not paying the toll, taking the wrong turn, getting lost in the restricted zone. These and others allowed me to depend on my sons to be the best drivers so I could fall asleep in the passenger seat pretending to be helpful. This trip was packed with great stories that we can retell over and over.

I am happy it happened but let’s get real I AM SAD! There!!! I said it. As my sons, daughters, grandchildren and nieces all departed by train and plane it was downright sad. A whole new list of unknowns and anxieties suddenly appeared as the reality of work and real life projects were no longer on the distant horizon. Parting is just a downright sad part of the experience. All the fun activities that had occupied our time are concluded and, well, it is just sad. Better to acknowledge than to pretend the emotion doesn’t exist. Should I feel guilty that I am not appreciating the “happy it happened” part and now focused on the “sad it’s over’? Sad gets to have it’s time and respect. So lets embrace the fact that leaving family members behind is a sad part of life. Granted this is not a permanent good-bye as we will see each other soon; however, I think it is important to recognize the sadness of the end of something special. I will miss the casual conversation; those moments of serious reflection and opportunities to seek advice from the people you love and respect. There was so much more to this gathering than lovely surroundings. It was the opportunity to reestablish the value of family. The love and respect we have for each other was on display at every moment as we experienced it in real time. No zoom call needed as we were all in the same room. I will miss the wonder of being present. Not just emotionally present but physically. Rather than telling my daughter not to cry I should seize the opportunity to realize the conclusion of this experience deserves it’s due. The moment was full of wonder yet there will be others and those will be special in their own way but this one has ended and it does deserve a little sadness.

I need a kleenex…..

Ringraziamento

About three years ago I decided it was a good idea to learn the Italian Language. I think my tutors would question that calculation as it has probably been longer. I am a slow learner. I often say it would have been easier if I had started 40 years ago. However, for me, the study of language has brought more than just the grammar of a challenging language. The study of language is the study of culture, experience, values and understanding. Peeling the layers of an onion is the perfect analogy to the study of language. Each layer brings on a new experience and a deeper understanding, not only of the new language, but also of your native language. Suddenly those Latin and English classes that you dreaded in school seem far more important. Thus on this Thanksgiving week of 2021 I am giving thanks to Italy (il bel paese) and the beautiful language of this country.

I am giving thanks to the incredible good fortune that life has endowed me and my family. My study of the Italian language and Italy has brought my family to this beautiful place for Thanksgiving. My five children (I am including my eldest as she is here in spirit. She is recovering from surgery and mending the pieces), their significant others, spouses, fiancé, and grandchildren have all managed to assemble in Firenze, Italia. They have travelled from San Francisco, Denver and London for a combined mileage of 19550. I am overwhelmed with gratitude that this family has managed to postpone work, school and lives to assemble in this beautiful city to celebrate Thanksgiving together. I could enunciate the multitude of blessings that have been bestowed on me and my family but the true blessing is the demonstration of love and caring that each of us has brought to this gathering to underscore the beauty of love and family. I am eternally grateful for this gift.

Rendo grazie per queste tante benedizioni

Io sono tantissimo grato per questo Giorno del Ringraziamento

Hope…

Slogging through life is not without its challenges. Some slogs are easier than others. I am amazed at what keeps people moving forward. There are so many roadblocks to success and so many ways to fail. In spite of it, mankind keeps moving forward through the muck of disappointment. What is it that keeps hope alive and reappearing against all odds and outcomes? The world ozzes hopelessness, struggle, and the apparent “doomed to failure.” Refugee camps, fire, floods, storms, political gridlock, and the insane belief in lies. Still, there is that glimmer of hope and belief that we can and will make it better. The incredible people I know who start businesses, develop their artistry and become better teachers solely for the purpose of helping and giving to others. The hopeful spirit drives them to better themselves through the practice of their art and passion. It’s always a rough day and yet!! ——- you know who you are because you are the ones that are always hopeful. Religion has captured that essence of hope and a positive outcome better than most disciplines. However they are not the only ones. Founders of companies, actors, scientists, researchers on and on capture and retain the hope of a positive outcome. Sports teams and individuals who have actually lost are able to regain that sense of hope for the next game or the next season.. The unwillingness to accept that the outcome is not going to be good.

I like Thanksgiving. It is a day of thanks and hope. No presents are required. No rushing around buying stuff to make up for the failures of the past. No list, no squandering money on the sweater you will never wear. I just have to make dinner. Thanksgiving is just a chance to sit down together where ever together is and give thanks in whatever way you wish to be thankful. There are no set rules, no specific ritual just a pause to give thanks. Maybe all we should be thankful for is our inability to give up. Give thanks for our unwillingness to accept failure. I am thankful for the people in my life who support me and think that I have something to offer. I am thankful that they believe so strongly in themselves and their achievements. I am thankful they ignored my advice to do something else that was more immediate. I am thankful they still are willing to listen. It is not our things, our success, or failure, it is an incredible hope that surrounds us every day. It is that which picks us up and drives us forward. Hope is our guide and our comfort and what I am most thankful.

Could I have a drumstick, please?

Buckle Up

Let me be clear ----  violence is never the appropriate answer.  Clearly few leaders in the history of mankind actually believe that statement since violence is with us always.  What I find incredible is our ability to find an excuse for and our protestations against violence in a manner that moves responsibility to someone else.  Case in point: Airline violence.  The most recent example was on an American Airlines flight from NYC to Orange County.  The CEO of American immediately came out to say: “this type of behavior has to stop.  American will not tolerate airport or inflight misconduct of any kind.”

Good job Doug, but, hey Doug, how would you like to talk about why this is happening. Maybe you could be a real leader and discuss your responsibility for this behavior.  Not that you are alone as the other US airlines share the same responsibility.

In their selfish interest to cram people into a small space,  they alone are responsible for the increase in cranky passengers who are looking to take out frustration on someone. Let’s look at a few stats.

In 2002 a British ergonomics firm estimated human hip sizes and, you guessed it, the United States was number one at 20.6 inches.   France was 17.2 and Japan 15.9.  Airbus suggested that all airline seats be at least 18 inches but the US, fearing a potential infringement on some imaginary right to have wide hips and narrow seats, objected to this rule.  US airlines have continually made flying in coach more and more uncomfortable.  While they are cramming people into a smaller and smaller space, the load factor has been rising to a record 86.4% average.   This means that many planes are 100% full. Why do you care about the load factor? Because if a plane is 90% full that leaves only 14 middle seats open and with smaller everything you are literally crammed in like sardines.  Meanwhile, legroom is smaller, seats are smaller and the pitch of the seat (now 30 inches or less) is being reduced.  The bottom line—get used to having your knees in your chest and your neighbor’s armpit in your face.  Airlines are one of the few industries that actively work to make their customers uncomfortable in pursuit of profits.  They are a public utility that is taking away all utility.  Now you wonder why there is an increase in unhappy passengers and an increase in violence.  Do you really think that all of those passengers are in the appropriate meditative mental state to tolerate all of the inconveniences of air travel?

Doug is taking the high road by announcing violence as abhorrent and keeping passengers that violate that general human principle off his airplanes.  Thus, he falls in line with other persons in authority, they look for somebody else or condition to blame.  The pandemic has served as everyone’s favorite thing to blame.  This horrible condition has become every leader’s scapegoat. Doug Parker doesn’t bother to look at the core problem because that would lay responsibility at his doorstep.  He is not alone in this now-classic behavior.  This behavior is not new but it is epidemic in the leadership of all kinds.  Doug, people are fighting on your planes because you put too many people in too small of a space and assumed that everyone is so grounded in their lives that they will behave in a kind and spiritual manner.  Please take responsibility and make your aircraft more comfortable and improve the flying experience and see if the fighting subsides.  The inability to take responsibility and seek solutions that solve the core problem is completely missing in our national discourse.  Are we truly surprised that violence is on the rise?

 Could you please stop kicking my seat sir or should I just punch you in the face…?

Scarpe (shoes)

                                    I came home yesterday.  It was a day of mixed emotions.  I was not ready to leave as I had not completed my mission of finding an apartment in Milano.  However, I was excited to return to the familiar.  Worried about losing what I had gained in terms of my language skills, but was anxious to see how things were progressing on my house project.  My trip, like many trips, was a series of stories and each story was a new adventure displayed on a blank canvas.  One recent adventure will give insight into Italians and their unique culture.

For as many years as I  worked in San Francisco I shopped at Wilkes-Bashford.  I knew Wilkes and most of the employees at his incredibly well-appointed store.  Sadly, Wilkes had to sell the business to a family of stores from the east coast.  The Mitchells have never really understood the value of the Wilkes name and thus have never captured the heart of the City.  John ran the shoe department.  He was the best curator of men’s shoes.  He became a victim of the Covid shutdown.   When they released him,  I called to express my disbelief to Bob Mitchell.  Even in difficult times, you don’t trade your best salesperson.  I have not gone back to the store since ---- I am a loyalist. 

John was responsible for bringing Bontoni to Wilkes,  At the time Bontoni was a little-known shoe brand in the US.  They now sell their product through a series of exclusive boutiques in selected cities in the US and various countries around the world.  I called John to see if he could introduce me to the Bontoni owners as I thought it would be fun to visit while in Milano.  Like a good friend, he introduced me to Franco.  Franco along with his father and other family members owns this amazing business.  He graciously invited me to come down and see their “factory” which, until recently, was part of their home. 

Located in the Le Marche region of Italy which is between the Apennine Mountains and the Adriatic Coast.  It is a beautiful region known mostly for shoemaking.  It is one of those regions which has not quite been discovered so tourism is limited but beauty is not. 

Here is what makes Italy and “Made in Italy” the brand that many brands aspire.  Bontoni makes 3600 pairs of shoes a year, ten a day/on average.  It is amazing that this enterprise is able to make that many shoes.  What is even more amazing, it takes one employee 4 hours to stitch one pair of shoes by hand.  The pattern is cut by hand; each pair sits in a last so as to better shape the leather; all are polished by hand.  I am not kidding each pair is hand polished to an incredible shine.  The envy of every drill sergeant.    Ten employees and every step in the process is done by hand or with small instruments.  These men and women are creating works of art.  They are masters of their craft and are working for the love of what they create.  Living in a world of mass production; efficient distribution and growth above all, it is stunning to see that things can be created in such a manner.  For an Italian artisan, they are constantly dealing with the tension between the desire to grow a business and the love of the artistry of their craft.  There is the fear that growth will likely bring a decline in quality and the value proposition of a truly handmade product that is at the core of their business.  Then there is the concern of the pretenders who copy the product but not the quality, care, and love of making something of value. The family exists for the love of their craft and the joy of creating beautiful shoes. 

Often we become wrapped in a blanket of efficiency and distribution to as many as possible.  Valuation comes from the number of eyes on the page regardless of what’s on the page.  Measured to the average we are proud of beating the average rather than seeking to excel.

The opportunity to see the pride and joy of generations working together to maintain their craft was to understand that for Italians it is more than beating quarterly results.

Oh, the best part ---- Franco’s father, Manfredo, the patriarch, drove me to the train station in his green Mini.  He does not speak English which allowed me to practice my Italian.  Amongst other things, he plays the saxophone.  I told him I played the piano ------

We are getting the band back together!!!

Walking—-Andare A Piedi

Milano is a walking city. I clock in around 15,000 steps a day cruising around the various neighborhoods that make up this European capital. When one walks a lot one notices a lot and I have been noticing the walking styles of women and men. I have observed a clear divide. In general when men are walking they are observing. They look side to side, look up and down, they look at people across the street and the people they are passing. They must be fantasizing that they are Secret Service agents protecting an invisible client. There are styles associated with this forward observer method of walking. There is the business guy alone style - waling while doing the biggest deal phone glued to the ear. They carry themselves as if the deal is done and the bonus is coming. When the business guy has a companion they speak in secret like they are either football coaches or they have bad breath which requires them to have their hand over their mouth while they divulge secrets. Vacation guy - he is sauntering — I have nothing but time and I am in Milan. Working man — He is loud and wants you to know he is working. He is not necessarily in a hurry but he has a co-worker and information can only be delivered by yelling. Very old guy - This man walks slowly but with a sense of purpose as he is just happy to be upright and ambulatory. Couples guy - He is distracted while he walks either because he is in an argument or he can’t believe this woman is walking with him —- either way he is in full Secret Service mode watching -watching.

Women, on the other hand, are not checking anything out or they are so good you just don’t notice it. Women in the city walk with purpose — eyes straight ahead with no chance for eye contact. Young girls walk together always in conversation they are oblivious to the world around them. Other women regardless of age walk with purpose as don’t mess with me. The more confident the stronger the stride and forceful the purpose i.e. get in my way and I will fuck you up. Some less confident cast furtive glances but nonetheless they are moving quickly and are trying not to engage. Even older women are walking with eyes straight ahead. In general women walk in away to not engage. If they are trying to it probably has a cost associated. Head down, eyes focused moving purposely through the crowd.

Speaking of walking—- let’s talk about style for a minute. Love a 7” stiletto but we better get over it. Massive combat boots with 3” thick heels and soles are what is on the women of Milano. These are basic training or Airborne Ranger equipment and they are worn with everything and no wonder, walking around the stone streets of Milano is no place for a stiletto. If you are walking with purpose these get the message across—-don’t mess with me.

Jeans of all kinds are still THE thing for men and women. Guys, wear a pair of jeans, big shoes (not low profile loafers here) or tennis shoes (again practical and cool) but wear a nice shirt, sweater vest and a sport jacket. That’s right a sport coat and a sweater vest and a proper shirt. By the way, when you are packing, don’t even think about bringing those cargo shorts. You can bring basketball shorts or tennis shorts but if you are on the streets of Milano no one wants to see your legs. You can wear jeans of any variety but if you want to announce that you are from out of town — wear those fucking cargo shorts.

Speaking of what to walk around with…. There is a dog resurgence in Milano. They are all around town and in restaurants. What is changing is poop bags as people do pick up the poop here. No more digging around your purse for those ugly green rolled up plastic bags. What is changing is a new chic fashion item. —- look for these in your favorite store. A fashion forward compartment to carry your poop bag. They will be the perfect compliment to your perfect outfit and you won’t be embarrassed to reach into this accessory to take care of business.

Oh, Fido, really you have to do it here? Now what did I do with my poop bags……..

BUONGIORNO

If you know anything about the Italian language you know this expression. Translated it means “Good Morning” Simple you might think, but here in Italy it means more. It is said with such sincerely and enthusiasm. It is not reserved for those you know. It is a greeting to be shared with all. There are slight variations —- Buona Giornata —— Buon Giorno with an emphasis on Buon —- or Buongiorno with the two words together with equal emphasis. It is not just a different version of “hello” or “hi” as you might hear in the U.S. It is the warmth with which it is delivered. It is not said softly or under your breath as if you were afraid to look anyone in the eye for fear they would ask for money. No, “Buongiorno” is a clarion call to the world that this is a new day. It is a “benvenuti” to the morning. Walk into any bar (the equivalent of a small restaurant) and the barista or the cameriere will greet you with this well enunciated and distinctive announcement that we are beginning a new day and how fortunate we are to be experiencing it together. Buon giorno is not treated lightly it is a call to arms, a call to give this day your best. You are lucky to be here so lets start it with enthusiasm. Whether or not you speak any other part of this beautiful language you will know that buon giorno is a good place to start.

Italians are proud of their country. Critical of some things but elegantly proud. It is a different pride than an American possesses. We present ourselves as if we have the best of everything and should be replicated. The US has a special brand of chest beating without depth of knowledge. Italy cannot be replicated and that is what makes it Il Bel Paese. An Italian is cognizant of history. They understand history and where they were and where they are. The firm embrace of history is the foundation of their artistry, design and the spirit of life which they make time for in the normal flow of the everyday. They are not trying to convince you of the importance of the past. They weave it into the story so you can make your own decision as to its value. They are not tying to underscore the enormity of the past because it is obvious to anyone who is paying attention. The recognition of the profound surroundings of a country that epitomizes the foundation of western civilization is a cultural strength. The renowned thinkers, philosophers and scientist of any historical period are here and they are walking the streets. They are proud of the fact that they are the keepers of some of the most intense discoveries of the human experience. Walk the streets with an Italian local and he or she will remark on the beauty of a street they have walk many times. It is that attention to what is before them that adds to the warmth you feel when you experience Milano and other cities throughout the country. I was fortunate enough to have lunch the other day with one of the most famous sports figures in Milano. This gentleman was stopped six times during a twenty minute walk. Each time he was kind and patient with the people invading his personal space. I think he enjoyed it even though his wife told me it happens everyday. And as we walked along he pointed out the beauty of the day,the city and the edifices that reminded all of us of the presence of those that came before.

Milano is a walking city. You can put down 10,000 steps without even trying. Next week: The Walkers

I have to go —- Dante Alighieri (1265-1321) is calling…

And I Thought It Was Me…

…She was looking straight ahead with a blank stare as she was sliding the products across the scanner. “Puoi darmi un sacco per favore”. Without looking she was able to put her hand on a plastic bag and with a “Steph Curry without looking behind the back pass” she threw a plastic bag at me. This woman seriously hates her job. Without any acknowledgement of my existence as a human or a customer she moved the few items I was purchasing through the scanner and then to me to bag.. I thought this was treatment saved for me or perhaps other people who looked like me. Contrary to this mistaken belief—- in Italy this is normal behavior. No “buongiorno” , no “prego”, no “thanks for bagging”, no have a nice day. Now I was going to be a little more cheeky about this unique behavior until I had lunch yesterday with some friends and I brought this topic up. Suggesting that in other interactions with people in the service industry there was a warmer exchange of polite greetings. The amount of warmth and human interaction depends in large part on how much you wish to extend yourself and how big an effort you make to speak the language of the country. It was suggested that I might hate my job too if I was only making 1,000 Euro a month. I found that hard to believe. Not that I would hate the job, but that she was only making 1000 euro/ month. So I did a little statistical research. Now as a caveat, I am not a statistical genius by any stretch but I can grasp the hi-lights. A few comparisons: California is 34% larger than Italy in terms of land mass. However there are 25 million fewer people living in California (and you thought the largest state in the Union was crowded). Average wage in Italy is about 1,900/month or around 24,000 a year. The poverty line for the US is approximately 13,000/year for 1 person, 17,000 for two. Middle class is defined as 46,000/ year. Now I can hear the chirping about the government health care and the socialized this and that available in the EU, but that cannot approach the financial requirements to live in a G-8 country in the 21st century —- no wonder she hates her job. The wealth gap is everywhere and like it or not those that have it had better get used to sharing.

On a more uplifting note…presentation. Milano and all of the Italy that I have seen is incredibly well presented. The simplest things are presented in the most pleasing fashion. The packaging of all things Italian are beyond pleasing. You would buy things just to see how they are packaged and then presented to you. Take a morning cappuccino…the barista places the saucer with a napkin and small spoon on the counter, turns the espresso maker on to drip the coffee, once in the cup the milk is steamed and poured into the cup — then the cup is placed on the saucer with the handle in the proper direction. It is a combination of ritual and presentation. I bought a panino at Marchesi a famous pasticceria started in 1824. I would buy a panino there just to watch the meticulous nature of the proper wrapping, closing sticker and placing in the handled bag. All of this so it can be presented to me.

Speaking of ritual…. I went into one of the many Catholic churches yesterday — Sunday. I was walking on a quiet street after having a caffè. When I went in, this grand church was virtually empty.. I watched people scurrying around in tennis shoes and working attire as they prepared for the service. All things secular - microphone adjustment, final singing and organ practice, adjustments to the alter and placing of chairs. I was struck by the secular transformation to the religious ritual as the opening procession with priest and attendants proceeded to the alter with the organ announcing their arrival. It was this morphing of the mundanities of the secular with the uplifting nature of the ritual that I was attentive. As if the ritual had called for attendance, I turned around and the church was full. Regardless of beliefs I think we humans love a good ritual.

From the streets of Milano….”Alla prossima”

I Just Can’t Seem…

…to get movin’ —- a line from a Buffalo Springfield song “It’s so hard to wait” So many emotions fit here. I began my journey to Milano a couple of days ago. Having purchased the tickets when airlines were giving away tickets just to get you on-board. Now that they have you, it’s back to the same lack of service for twice the cost. This Lufthansa flight was perfect and I was in the very front of the bus. Cleared customs in Germany (easy — are you vaccinated ?—- stamp — you are in!). Mind you when you are “in” you are “in” for the whole of Europe! London will pay for its shortsighted protectorate vote but that is another topic. Travel day is great — you are packed, know what you will be wearing, know where you are going and more importantly “they” can’t find you once you are on the plane. A true respite providing you do not access the plane wifi —- your choice, I pretend I do not know how. If you don’t take United there is still excitement in travel.

I am in love with the idea of living in another country but the practicality of actually doing it is a completely different situation. It is no different than being in love period - reality is sobering. Stick with the fantasy if you can. You just cannot underestimate the power of the familiar. Throw in a change of language and you are really off center. My first morning in Milano I was looking forward to getting up and going out for a brioche (croissant in other places) and a proper cappuccino. You have seen the picture in all the magazines and media ads — always perfect. There was a lovely looking “pasticceria” just around the corner and I walked in expecting to receive a “buongiorno” and a friendly barista. Instead I found a crowded room and a confusing orientation of proper ordering procedure. In addition the people behind the counter were so aggressive I became intimidated and walked out. So much for the fantasy. Like all places you have to learn what works for you and fortunately there are many bars here. You just have to be patient and find the small one that you like.

A friend found a great temporary home for me but that is the key word — temporary. Even though everything works they don’t work the same way when you are in charge. I found a grocery store but it wasn’t “my “grocery store and they knew it because I wasn’t “their” customer. After I bought two water bottles and kleenex the clerk rang me up and then walked away leaving the bagging to me. Not that I could not bag but it was obvious that bagging was for locals. Now it is dinner time and I needed to find a “ristorante” to have dinner. I had lunch with friends at a terrific trattoria which they knew. Again the key is they knew it — I did not. I could not walk into any place as I did not know this area. So, like a homing pigeon I walked to the Four Seasons. It was 2100 (9:00pm) but they opened the door for me and at “Buona Sera” I felt at home. Sitting in the bar with background music, people hovering and people to watch, I had found a little bit of comfort in the familiar. It is only my third day and I realize that like any new relationship it will take some time to get used to another way of doing things. The unfamiliar may be exciting but it also feels disconcerting and risky. But squandering 100 euro on a cocktail (maybe two) and a salad felt oh so familiar to when I saw the world through the eyes of the concierge. Now I am trying to see it through my own eyes and it is just a little blurry. I forgot how much confidence you gain doing the same thing over and over.

—— From Milano — Teetering on the edge…

Familiar vs. Unknown

The challenge the familiar

The safety of the unknown

 It has been an interesting few days.  I gave a talk at Denver University last week.  It was unfamiliar territory for me.  It was at a University that I have only recently become familiar with, due to my son beginning his second year as the Head Coach of the Men’s Hockey Club Team.  It is in a city that I have a new experience on a more regular basis.  The city and the University are lovely but uniquely different.  Although everything was and is fresh and unfamiliar, it felt comfortable and welcoming.  The talk was successful and there will be more.

California does not have great weather variance but Fall has its own blend of feel and smells.  As the leaves of the sycamore trees fall along the dry river beds there is a comforting smell mixed with the not-quite-done-with-summer heat and the winter-is-coming chill that commences in the late afternoon.  I was back in an area I have spent the last decade for the weekend.  It was all familiar and very much the same.  Yet there was that feeling of a slight twinge in my stomach, a sense of insecurity, maybe doubt, and a questioning of my decision to leave.

 The familiar is challenging.  Instead of experiencing the present, you might find yourself replaying the past, questioning your decisions. It is that wave of doubt which crashes on the shores of your experience and then withdraws to leave a residue of sadness.

The unknown, on the other hand,  has none of that complex of feelings.  The unknown has no frame of reference.  The unknown is truly present.  It is the fresh unmarked powder day; the unmarked ice rink following the Zamboni machine’s ability to wipe away all the mistakes of the previous.  Some see fear in the unknown but other than the risk of putting yourself in the moment, there is the clean unexperienced presence of something new and exhilarating.

As I cast my ship away from the dock, I am excited for the unknown and what lies ahead.  The anxiety is for the adventure and not over the mistakes of the past.  The familiar offers the stability of the known yet framed in the judgments of the familiar.

I am hopeful of finding the freshness of the unknown but tempered with the lessons of the familiar.

Buon viaggio

Ci vediamo presto

Ti Amo

A Little Story

                             Just a Little Story

In the middle of a pandemic; international upset; conspiracy theory; propaganda and the big lie ---just a little story….

I have been trying to regain my tennis game.  Not that it was all that noteworthy, but a reasonable game to be regained.  My father played tennis for USC and squash at Harvard.  I was JV all the way and never was able to beat my father.  However, I love the game and it has become a focus for me since I returned to the Bay Area.  I have a regular game with my oldest son and have been hitting with a pro at a local tennis club.  Notably, my granddaughter Grace and I won a championship over Labor Day at my daughter’s tennis club where all of her children are excellent players.  Her husband has been influential as the number one player at Tufts University in Boston. 

 Two days ago, I went out to hit with the pro at their club.  To my surprise, my 12-year-old grandson was on the court with Sebastian the pro.  Hey Fred, Sebbe said,  Owen is going to take the lesson with you.  Are you ok with that?  Of course, I said.

We played a game of 2 v. 1 to 9 points a game.  Owen was not allowed to drop shot me since I can’t run that fast.  Other than that, it was everyone playing hard.  My forehand is my best stroke and Owen figured that out quickly and pounded my backhand all afternoon.  Just to emphasize the level of play here – Owen is crushing the ball and I am hitting as hard as I can.  The pro? He is trying pretty hard.  The three of us played for over an hour and one-half.  Since he was winning, Owen would have played longer but the pro and I were done.  The best part of the entire experience you might ask? As Owen is getting on his scooter to go home, he turns to me and says “GP ( my nickname) You are getting better!!”

Coming from a 12-year-old it was high praise.

It is all about being present and available.

C’mon man – “ you’re getting better”. high praise indeed.

Connectivity

Connectivity

I was busy this week and thinking about what to write.  What I was busy with became the topic of this post.  Connecting.   It doesn’t matter if you are related, work with, play with, talk to…If you do not take the time to reach out and connect, those relationships will wither and maybe even die on the un-watered vine.  I had lived the last many years somewhat isolated from friends and family.  What I learned --- when you are not physically close, you have to take a lot of time writing or calling to maintain and deepen those relationships.  If you are not connecting, those relationships cannot flourish.  Since I have moved closer to my family and friends, my connections have improved.  I now play a regular tennis game with my oldest son; I speak frequently to my daughter (mother of 4); I speak multiple times to my younger son and daughter; I played and won a tennis tournament with my granddaughter; I have connected with old business partners and now serve on a valuable research board.  You might think, of course, I have improved my connection with those people because I am physically close to them.  However, the surprising part is that I am closer to my friends and family that live many miles from me?  Many are kind enough to write through my blog, and that has heightened my attention to recognize the time that passes between phone calls or messages.  I am more cognizant of the important people in my life and the importance of keeping the conversation going.  When there are long gaps in communication something else fills that void.  Texting and email are “old school”,  replaced by Instagram, Twitter, etc., but the value of in-person or voice communication is still the most effective way to expose your true feelings.  To protect our fragile egos, we have developed all sorts of communication venues that will either mask our feelings or give us the strength to express them without retribution.  The extraordinary effort by my friends and relatives to stay in contact has given me a gift of infinite value.  To be sure, it is a mutual effort.  The result has been a full understanding of our lives, our issues, and problems but most of all it demonstrates every day how much we care about each other.   I write to express feelings but the human voice is still the most powerful.  When I hear your voice, I feel your happiness and your pain.  I am honoring the effort we make to communicate directly.  To feel the happiness and the sadness through your voice is the direct route to the heart.  Never forget that the keyboard is like negotiating through a third party it mutes my feelings.

For all those that make an effort to stay connected --- thank you.

With love

Fred

9-11-2001

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

September 3rd was Labor Day in 2001.  I had been in NYC with my children and was due to return to San Francisco the following week on Tuesday.  As often happens in NYC the weather turns beautiful when the calendar turns to the ninth month of the year.  So, it was this year as we enjoyed the final week of summer.  Tuesday the 11th was the first day of school.  After saying goodbye to my son and daughter, I headed to JFK.  Simon drove me to the airport as he had done many times in the past.  I was a frequent flyer on American during its time as the premier business airline before it devolved into the excuse it is today.  Customarily I would go straight to the Admirals’ Club to check-in for my flight to San Francisco.  I knew the women who worked behind the desk.  They were always helpful.  Saying hello to Stephanie she told me she had checked me in and the flight was on time.  I was early, sat down, and started to read the New York Times.  I watched the monitor at what appeared to be an object hitting one of the towers of the World Trade Center.  At that time many reporters were assuming it was a private aircraft that had gone terribly off course.  At that moment Stephanie came up to me and said Mr. Steck the airport will be shutting down in the next few minutes.  You will have to leave; I have rented you a car at Hertz.  It was the last one, you need to go now.  I would never see her again.  Not because of some tragedy but because the world of travel would never be the same and the luxury of breezing up to the Admiral’s Club was gone forever.  I arrived at the Hertz counter by bus, and indeed, I was given the last car in the parking lot.  The immediate issue was where would I go? I was on an island as in Long Island – hence the name.  All bridges, trains, roads, and airports were closed.  I could not return to Manhattan although I could speak to my children, who were now safe at their mother’s home.  Due to the extraordinary generosity of a dear friend, I was able to stay in a spectacular home on the beach in Sagaponack.  Unless you were a permanent resident of Sagaponack,  no one was traveling to the Hamptons.  It was uniquely and beautifully quiet.   A combination of guilt and ineptitude overtook me.  Guilt because I was living in a beautiful place that was completely divorced from the reality that was unfolding 100 miles away.  Inept because the world had stopped moving.  Every day I would wait to speak to American Airlines to see if and when flights would resume.  I would debate the idea of driving to San Francisco or taking the train.  I was working by phone but even that was a challenge as, unlike today, there was no access to the platforms that have transformed the office into the home. Obviously, we have recovered and moved forward, but we are not the same. Many of us cannot recover and all of us should remember.

Tragedies are localized.  In the middle of these horrible world events, so many of us are just far enough away to not be affected.  The movie Casablanca had very little to do with history or reality except it is a dramatization of people who live a markedly different life in the middle of a world crisis.  The current pandemic is an example of how chaos and crisis are very localized.  Covid becomes real when a friend is sick or dies. However, for those untouched, mask-wearing and social distancing become a political issue. 

On this 20th anniversary of the attacks on the US,  I am remembering how I spent those days attached to the horror through phone and television while walking the beach on a spectacular fall day.  I am reminded of the need to have and develop a keen sense of empathy for those that live in the eye of the storm.  We cannot all live the same challenges, experience the same sadness, but we can acknowledge the truth of others’ struggles. We can embrace the truth of the other man’s challenge, seek understanding and help when and where we are able.

Blessings

Dog Days of Summer

The Dog Days of Summer

The period in the zodiac between July 3 – August 11th or 20 days before and after the alignment of Sirius with the Sun. Generally considered the most oppressive days of summer --- days that are not “fit for a dog”. 

For me, the “Dog Days” are now. The last week of August and the first week of September. Gone is that initial warmth of summer when you leave the house for the first time without an extra layer.  The gap in your daily schedule that was filled with chauffeuring the children is suddenly and deliciously filled with the opportunity to have a moment to yourself.  Those sounds and smells of summer are now a distant memory.  Suddenly replaced with a new school, the trauma of new teachers, friends, routine, and every other thing under the sun.  I always felt the “dog days “ were these days.  The end of summer when it was still hot.  My children and I referred to these days as the three “H’s” --- hazy hot and humid.  An especially meaningful description of the miserableness that is New York City at this time.

It is so dry here in California and it appears the State is burning up. Crises are everywhere and we are just exhausted. The “Dog Days of Summer” is an apt description of how I feel as we limp towards Labor Day.  The promise of shorter days and cooler temperatures. The smell of leaves as early decay sets in on the landscape. Mother Nature finally allows the trees to rest and the fires have hopefully exhausted themselves leaving their trail of destruction.  The lack of resolution surrounds us ——— tragedy, war, death, illness, poverty.  The finger pointers and the liars are rewriting history. Instead of pulling together, we are pulling apart. Denying the obvious need for change by rewriting history, lying, and self-promotion. There was nothing relaxing about this summer. Fall holds the hope of renewal as what is left of the freshness of spring and early summer dies and falls to the ground. Autumn brings rest for nature and the hope that winter brings much need moisture to a world in need of water. It is my favorite time of year, Wouldn’t you like a word that encapsulates the renewal that fall announces. The hope and joy of that fall smell as you kick through that pile of leaves. Much to my surprise, there is a German word for exactly that feeling as we kick through those old leaves in hopes winter will wipe the slate clean for next summer.

HERBSTLAUBTRITTVERGNÜGEN.

Hairbst-laowb-tritt-fair-gnuu-ghen

“Kicking through piles of autumn leaves”

GRATEFUL

I am struggling to find a positive topic today. Then I take stock of where I live and the joys of day to day life in the United States. It is not the usual listing of freedoms that our leaders pontificate on or the ones that they are trying to limit or outright take away. It is instead that freedom to awake in the morning knowing that something is possible and you are allowed to attempt to achieve it.

History is a subject that the majority of our “leaders” fail to either know or understand. Here are a few facts that would help you to understand what is going on halfway around the world in Afghanistan. There are approximately 38 million people that live in Afghanistan, a country 1.6 times larger than California. The female population is roughly 48%. There were 20 million people in 2000. Most of the Taliban hierarchy lives outside the country and there are no women in that leadership group. The average age of Afghans is 18.4. The average age of Americans is 38.4. Most of the young women born after the Taliban fall in 2001 have never known what it is like to live in a country ruled by an oppressive male dominated government. There are 6 countries that surround Afghanistan. The largest borders are shared by Iran and Pakistan. Both countries whose governance is dominated by men.

So when you awake this morning, think about all the possibilities the new day affords you. You can think about voting for someone who wants to take away your reproductive rights, your voting rights or your right to the truth. Or you can think about the 16 million Afghan women who in the blink of an eye lost their right to show their faces, speak, produce children with a man of their choosing, to be educated, to pursue a vocation of their choosing. Most of all they lost their right to the possible…

We should be grateful…..

There is no ”I”…

The thin line between doing the right thing for yourself and doing the right thing,,,

Thought I would do a little light reading last night --- The Constitution of the United States.  The preamble of this document is copied below along with the last line.  I was struck by the fact that the only pronoun used in this document is the pronoun “WE”.  Like the expression “there is no ‘I’ in team,” there is no “I” in the Constitution.  We must be appalled by the narrow-mindedness of the small thinkers that occupy leadership positions in this country.  Those that defend your right to be selfish.  Nowhere in the Constitution does it address your right to be shellfish.  We do have the ability to speak freely; we do have the right to our spiritual beliefs; we do have many rights which allow us to lead lives as we so choose.  However,  in the face of a countrywide crisis, rather a global crisis, we do not have the right to be selfish.  I do not have the right to make you or anyone else sick just because I can or because I believe in a false narrative that the government is somehow usurping my freedom by requiring me to follow simple health guidelines to protect my fellow citizens.   If you are foolish enough to believe the government does not know where you are right now you are naive.  We the people are here to form a more perfect union and we are here to secure the welfare of all citizens.  Just because you do not want to does not mean that is your right. Abbotts, DeSantis, McCarthy, Noem insist on your right to not care about your effect on others. 

They use the term” personal choices” to support their lack of leadership.  Nowhere in any US Governance document does it address my right to a personal choice that can make a member of your family sick.   These are small-minded people with the knowledge that they do not need everyone to get re-elected. They are speaking to a misguided constituency who does not understand what this country is supposed to be.  We are enormously flawed but we are also enormously hopeful in our view of what we think we are or what we think we could be.  Narrow-minded leaders are similar to organizations that fail to change and innovate..  Those that do not innovate will perish under the weight of their closed thinking.  I am reminded of the fact that in this life we cannot go it alone. We are most successful when we stand up to the bullies and when we work as a team.  My work experience is full of stories where our biggest successes were because of our ability to work together. My personal success is in large part the work of the many people that have helped me and continue to help me in my pursuits. I am repulsed by the intolerant leaders who exalt their defense of the Constitution and the rights of the individual.  Yes, there are rights but there is no “I” in the description of those rights.  There is no place that it says you can cause pain and suffering on another; there is no place that the Constitution says you can inflict emotional pain on another through transmitting a disease that will prematurely take a loved one.  Here is how I think about using the pronoun “I”. I pray that we will expel the small-minded leaders that say we do not need to do the simplest things to mitigate this global pandemic.  I hope we can show the selfish leaders that their focus on protecting their job is not why they were elected.. I hope we can stand up and express a voice of inclusion, a voice of protection, a voice of solution.  Being tagged as Conservative or Liberal does not definitely make you selfish.  These are broad political terms.  Those who define themselves as conservative by denying that the Constitution is about “We” are not critical thinkers. If you cannot treat someone with dignity and respect why would we ever think you can lead. They are the bully in the playground seeking attention.  People on this planet need help,  claiming that I have some ill-defined right to walk through this life without acknowledging the needs of others is selfish and small-minded.

This is a time to stand up to the bullies to acknowledge the strength in a team approach and a solution-driven approach to solving a crisis of health and welfare for all.  

 “We the People of the United States in order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, ensure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare (to promote the basic physical and material well-being of people in need) and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity (all future generations of people or Decedents of people), do ordain and establish this Constitution of the United States of America.”

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”