Fredric Steck 7/17/24 Fredric Steck 7/17/24

A Model of Passion

How do you come up with ideas to write about? The answer: – I pay attention and they come to me as small adventures – then discoveries. But you have to take the adventure…

Case in point.

Our story begins years ago when I was attending a school auction. One of the items was a model boat. It was a model of the famous clipper ship “Cutty Sark”. The model was built in 1923 and remodeled in 1993. I bought it in 2003. This is one of those detailed models about two- and one-half feet long, mounted on a wood staging board with a plexiglass cover to protect its very delicate sails and rigging. It sat on a book shelf for ten years in the office of my horse barn. When the property was sold and I had to relocate to San Francisco, a very dear friend volunteered to keep the boat. As things happened it was several years before I returned to Santa Ynez.

As I put the boat into the trunk of my car my friend asked me if I should secure the model. I overconfidently assured her that I was not going to go that fast on my way to dinner. Minutes later when I miss judged the speed of an oncoming car and was forced to accelerate faster than planned --- the sound emanating from the trunk was not a welcoming one.

After dinner I finally examined the bad news that the sound foretold. Three of the four masts had been snapped in half and the boat looked like the aftermath of a ship battle from the movie “Master and Commander.”

Solution:

My friend Dennis, owner of Karl the Fog and all knowledgeable about all things obscure and unique told me to look up a model repair person. They would be able to repair my shattered clipper ship. In case you were wondering there are not many “model repair shops” on an internet search. However, there is one in San Francisco. Gemmiti Model Art.

I called Gemmiti and Lisa answered the phone. She explained that I would have to send her a photo and description and she would let me know if they could help. It wasn’t until I examined a little more closely that I discovered Lisa is not the receptionist, Lisa is the President and Founder of Gemmiti Model Art. She called me back and arranged for me to bring the boat to their shop in San Francisco. Now I am not sure what I was expecting but this is what I found and why this story is worth telling.

Passion

It is amazing to me the number of unique and interesting things people do and create careers out of. Gemmiti is a very unique small business and the owner, Lisa, is amazingly passionate about what they do and what she has created. Passion is what we should strive for in our lives. For all the difficulties running a business can have, when you bring passion to your work, well, it is all worthwhile.

They don’t just repair old model ships they make models of everything--office buildings, houses, street lamps, casinos, oil refineries, space stations, and on and on. If you want a model of whatever you are building so you can understand what you are building in all dimensions this is your place. They have tools, saws, sanders, 3D printers etc. etc. Believe me they have all the tools and can build anything to scale.

It is a quiet place with a few talented passionate people going about the work of making models of big things. Monica flashes her engaging smile while building parts for some secret mission while her colleague sings show songs as she puts the finishes on yet another project.

Lisa gave me a tour of this well-appointed building with all of its projects and equipment. However, what was the most indelible impression for me was the passion and dedication this woman and her employees have for this unique yet amazing business. By sheer happenstance I was introduced to people and a business that I never would have imagined existed if it were not for a ship built 100 years ago with the same passion that Lisa holds for her business. I feel fortunate to have found another story worth telling.

Thank you Lisa…

Fredric Steck 7/10/24 Fredric Steck 7/10/24

Human Kindness

An image of the horrors of wars around the world. It was an image of people from all walks of life digging through the rubble of a destroyed building. There were people who looked like first responders, some in what looked like lab coats, and people from a neighborhood all handing stones one to another as they sorted through what surely was a scene of grief and sadness.

A friend of mine travelled on an 18 hour round trip bus ride – twice. She helped her mother go through an unnecessarily rigorous process to obtain a visa so she could visit her daughter.

I watched as my friend Diego move from person to person on a crowded Saturday morning making sure that everyone’s needs were met while managing a team all in service of people who only partially recognized their efforts. All this being done with a smile and warmth that is beyond mere service.

These three small events are all large to the individuals involved. What is common is the expression of kindness and self-sacrifice for others. The selfishness, the hubris, the narcissism of humans lies at the feet of very few. Those few are the leaders of people around the globe.

Supreme court decisions that are made, not for the greater good, but for the few through narrow interpretations of law only to satisfy their egos.

Leadership in Russian, Gaza, Israel, Sudan all conduct horrific killing on normal people to demonstrate or prosecute their narrow belief systems that attempt to achieve a goal that only they see as important.

When will they start picking through the ruble, sacrifice their comfort, and care for other humans instead of serving their selfish interest to satisfy the few while the bulk of humanity cares for each other in spite of their feckless leadership?

Fredric Steck 7/2/24 Fredric Steck 7/2/24

Happy 4th of July

Dear Loyal Readers

In honor of our country’s birth, and with prayers for its continuing survival…..

I took the week off to think about what happened and what might be next…

See you next week……..

Fredric Steck 6/25/24 Fredric Steck 6/25/24

It Is All How You See It

I was driving down Gough Street in San Francisco. It is a one-way street that leads to the 101 freeway. It is always crowded with people jockeying for position as they try to get one car closer to their destination only to be blocked by someone double parked or a UPS truck. It is a street you just want to get to the end as fast as you can and pretend you won’t have to do it again. But of course, you will be on this road again. Every time you are on the road your focus is on the car in front of you because there is no end to the cars in front of you. The side of the road is a blur of unrecognizable stores or restaurants that you will never enter and thus you pay no attention. They do not exist. All you see is the car in front of you and the unending line of cars in front of you.

I was on this road the other day focused on the car in front of me. The next light turned red. It was no different than the light behind me nor the lights ahead of me. Therefore, there was no reason to pay attention except to obey. Tired of the car in front of me I looked to my left. I became focused, not on the car in front but of the four people on the sidewalk.

They appeared out of context with the street scene which was just passing through in every sense. No one stays on this street. Except for this group.

A mother, a father, a grandmother and a little boy. The little boy was two or three. Walking, but not with complete confidence. His adult protectors were totally focused on him. They did not see the traffic, the car in front, the stores, the restaurants – nothing but this little boy. They were content and happy.

The little boy was aware that he was the center of the world as the only people that he cared about were totally focused on him. He was smiling, demonstrating his ability to walk, bouncing from side to side like a pin ball. At that moment and for the moments that I watched his world was comprised of three adults and their world was this little boy. Nothing – no traffic, not the weather, not the seedy nature of the neighborhood nothing mattered to them because….

They had it all. They did not need anything more -- not a boat, a car, a fancy restaurant – nothing. They had it all and they were all happy in a world that they defined. The little boy was the happiest of them all. All that he cared for and loved were in his orbit and he was the center. For that moment no matter how you define your perfect place they were in that place. It was their perfect place…defined by them

Happiness is perspective and in the end it is your perspective….

…. The car in front of me? What car?

Fredric Steck 6/18/24 Fredric Steck 6/18/24

Fathers…

Last Sunday was Father’s Day. As a father, I rather like this day. I especially like hearing from my children. No presents, it is just nice to hear from them. Of course, it is another opportunity to think about my own father. Not that I need a holiday for that purpose but it is nice to think about him in the context of the community of fathers.

Father’s Day brings out the “you’re such a good dad” and “you’re an amazing father” – but not all fathers can wear that moniker. In fact, there are a lot of fathers that seem to not understand their responsibilities when it comes to fatherhood and many just disappear altogether. My father belongs in the “amazing” camp. What qualifies to be in that camp? For my father I think it was his DEDICATION.

He was dedicated to all things in his life. His family – wife, children, relatives – his career (he truly loved the practice of law), his athletic pursuits, and his brief career as a sailor…...

For some odd reason this man from the land locked state of Missouri (except for that river that defines its eastern border), upon starting his law career in Los Angeles decides to join a yacht club. The Newport Harbor Yacht Club was a defining institution for my family as we spent most summers living near the club. I will stipulate that it was far less “fancy” then. Today, increased wealth has moved it into another category of club. We did not have a yacht but growing up, we did sail and race small single design boats as we competed with the other small clubs around Newport Harbor.

My father also sailed and competed. He was dedicated in all aspect of this process. During the summer the club held “twilight” racing series on Thursday evenings. Races started around 5:00pm and ended around 8:00pm. They were designed so the parents who were funding all this fun could have a chance. So, his family could enjoy summer at the beach, my father would drive from Newport to Los Angeles every day (a two to three hour drive depending on traffic).

He sailed a boat known as a Lido-14. A fourteen-foot sloop with two sails and best operated with two people.

One summer my father signed up for the final Twilight Series. He asked me to be his crew. I was excited to be awarded this job. Every Thursday he would leave for work drive to his office and return in time to change clothes and head for the club to get his boat in the water and head for the starting line. We did quite well in this series and by the final Thursday we were leading the large field of boats. Tensions were high. I was not “scared “of my father but I was scared of messing up as I knew this race series meant a lot to him. Even at a young age I could understand what it took to provide for your family’s vacation, continue to work and try to have a little fun along the way. All of this took dedication.

I remember the late afternoon and evening well. It was windy and cold as summer was coming to an end. I think we both understood what was at stake for my father and in the end, we performed like a well-oiled machine crossing the finish line first and thus winning the series.

Now my father was not necessarily an effusive man. He was thoughtful, kind, and dedicated. However, on this night he was effusive perhaps bordering on giddy. All the driving, all the complications, and all the sacrifice for this small moment and he had won. What was even more amazing was how happy he was with me --- his crew. It was a moment when everything went right ---- Until…...

I think I might have mentioned in a previous chapter that I had a penchant for locking keys in the trunk of the car at inopportune moments.

As we were cleaning up in the cold and dark of a windy September evening, I went to the car to fetch some warmer cloths for the ride home…. I did it again… locking the keys in the trunk I now had to go back and bring a dark cloud over this happy occasion.

True to his loving heart but truer to his thoughtful dedication as a father, he was not angry. Instead he was completely understanding of the situation. He told me to get ready as I was STILL going to get ice cream to celebrate our victory. I think this endearing gesture of understanding might have had something to do with the fact that my thoughtful, dedicated father had brought an extra set of keys.

Wil Wright’s

Wil Wright’s was a chain of ice cream parlors in Southern California. Sadly, it no longer exists but it was in my humble opinion the best ice cream parlor ever….

As my father and I sat in this ice cream parlor now warm in our sweatshirts discussing and reviewing over and over our sailing prowess and victory I remember the feeling of love and warmth for this man who spent his life of dedication to everything he did.

Years later as I write this story remembering every detail of that evening. I can feel the salt water on my skin, the warmth of my body overtaking the cold of the night air, the sweet sensation of victory and ice cream

But most I remember my dedicated father ----- He was an amazing father…...

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY

Love, Fred

Fredric Steck 6/11/24 Fredric Steck 6/11/24

Graduation and the Prom

It is early June and all parents are thinking two things. 1) I can hardly wait for this school year to end and 2) I am so proud of my daughter/son graduating from Middle School, High School, College. They will be moving on — ready to remake this fractured world through thoughtful ideas and innovation. it made me think of a marginally related subject – my High School Prom.

I smile thinking about that evening and wonder how curious are the things that trigger distant memories. I recount this eventful night so that it will make my grandchildren laugh. Closely linked to this story is the Ford Galaxie 500 with its 427 V8 engine. Ford and Chevrolet were in a battle to build the fastest “muscle” car fueled by cheap gas and lots of new freeways in Southern California.

My physical appearance could be described as the antithesis of the muscle car. As a high school senior, I was over six feet and barely weighed in at 160. I had some catching up to do in the body weight to muscle balance. To protect the innocent, my prom date will be called Nancy. Girls, dating, and growing up socially; was, along with my athletic pursuits, a failure. In today’s vernacular I was challenged. Having no steady girlfriend and a crush on the unattainable cheerleader; I, at the last minute, asked my friend Nancy to the prom. Shockingly, she said yes, as inexplicably she was not otherwise committed.

The prom was a formal affair to be held at the Santa Anita Race Track Turf Club. At that age you rented tuxedos. Having been scared by this experience, as soon as I could afford to, I always purchased tuxedoes like you would a blue suit. It just seemed like the right thing to have in your wardrobe. A rented tux consisted of pants, jacket, shoes, shirt and a cummerbund (a broad waistband usually worn in place of a vest). The cummerbund will play an important role later in the story.

I remember my parents had Buicks as family cars. However, the year of my graduation my father switched to Ford. He had purchased a Ford Galaxie 500 Fast Back with a 427 V8 engine. Despite the weight of this car, it was fast. It was a competitor to the Chevy 409 which the Beach Boys made famous in a song by the same name. I don’t know----perhaps it was because I was accepted to the University of California; or because I had a date, or because I had not locked the car keys in the trunk (that’s another story for another day) or maybe because he just loved his son; but, when I asked my father if I could use his brand new super-fast car to go to the prom, he said YES!!!! A truly remarkable turn of events. This may have been my father’s dream car but my mother determined its color. I would never have picked the color but, c’mon man, it was new and fast----Powder blue with white trim --- no judgement please.

Prom night

I was excited as I was leaving high school and heading to Santa Barbara in the fall. I showered, took care of the requisite pimple in the middle of my forehead, went down stairs to say good bye to my parents and patiently listened to the be-safe-no-drinking send off. I sat in this new car and contemplated the trust that my father had bestowed on me. I started the car and headed out the drive way. A block away from the house I hit the accelerator – wow this car was fast. For the next hour the world was perfect. Having picked up my date we headed to the Turf Club.

The Santa Anita race track was an important place in Arcadia as it had an enormous parking lot which on race day was full, but, if the track was closed, this was the perfect place to learn to drive and everyone learned to drive there. Entering this massive parking lot, I drove the car to where others had begun to park. I pulled into a space away from the others so as not to endanger my father’s car. Parked, put the brake on, and opened the door to an unknown pending disaster. ---- remember the cummerbund??) I walked around the car and opened Nancy’s door; stepped aside and closed the door. Excited we hurriedly strode out to the party, within a second I was lying face down in the gravel. I was so thin that the cummerbund, which was clinging to my nonexistent hips, had fallen straight down around my ankles, essentially tying them together; and now, my hands were bloody and painful. Nancy stared at me with a look of bemused misunderstanding in the same way a horse looks at you when you have fallen and are laying on the ground. The face said “what are you doing down there?” With my bruised hands and ego, I pulled myself together and we headed to the party. Things did not improve much…The dinner and dance were ok although I managed to spill on my white shirt, forced to dance and fought with the damn cummerbund.

As was customary, many of us had arranged to attend the late-night show at the Coconut Grove after the prom dinner/dance. Growing up in Los Angeles you have an odd relationship with distance and time. The Coconut Grove was not next to the Santa Anita race track. It was 30 miles and 45 minutes away but if you grew up in So Cal that was the equivalent of being next door. We left the prom and headed to the Grove. It could have been we were listening to music or talking or just not paying attention but an hour later I had not found the Coconut Grove. I was in Long Beach 40 miles from where I was supposed to be!!!

If you needed to go somewhere in Los Angeles, my mother knew how to get you there. I had already run out of embarrassment tickets so what did I do? – I called my mother. Turns out I missed the turn off and was 40 miles off target. Following my mother’s directions, we arrived at the Grove terribly late and sat behind a pillar for the show. The rest of the evening was uneventful. I was able to return my date to her home and I returned my father’s muscle car un- scared unlike my ego. Lesson learned? Well, there were many. Innovation has come to the rescue of future skinny, socially inept young boys who cannot find their way. The wonderful innovation of GPS software could have saved my ego and my embarrassment.

Born too soon for the prom, but innovation has come to the rescue…

Fredric Steck

Fredric Steck 6/4/24 Fredric Steck 6/4/24

Dishwasher

Dishwashing was a shared experience growing up. My sister’s and I did dishes on a rotating basis but nevertheless it was generally an argument as to who’s turn it was. Like many things we developed our own unique view of the process. Interestingly enough I believe my father actually enjoyed doing the dishes. He had a very particular method. However, I believe my parents, as much as they might have enjoyed the process, felt it important that my sisters and I would benefit from this life lesson.

We had a dishwasher but hand washing was my father’s specialty. I cannot remember the machine being used all that much. When necessary he would use the dishwasher. Like many things there was a correct way. In this case placement was the key component for correctness. The dishes had to be placed in a particular fashion. After all, those dividers and small compartments were not there for looks.

Some take dishwashing as an art form and no matter how much you would like to help; they would prefer to --- just do it themselves.

As they say, “the apple does not fall far…..” I rather like doing dishes. Most importantly I am particular about how the dishes are placed into the dishwasher. A developmental trait to be sure. This has caused some interesting discussions especially with persons I might be cohabiting. I can recall some spirited discussions dealing with the manner in which dishes are placed into the dishwasher and in what condition.

There is the random approach which basically means dishes are placed in the machine in a haphazard fashion, un-rinsed and pilled “akimbo” or in such away as if there is a little gnome inside the machine who would uncover those dishes to make sure they are cleaned.

Then there is my approach which is to rinse the dishes and place them in an orderly fashion so as to allow the wash action to actually reach the dishes. This would be the correct method.

Dishwashing could be a metaphor for the world we live in. There is the way we think things should be. In other words the correct way. Then there is the way others mistakenly believe things should be – definitely— the wrong way.

As much as I might instruct my girlfriend on the correct way to load the dishwasher it never seemed too resonant as we would have the same discussion whenever dishes were to be done.

If we cannot find compromise in this simple task, how do we expect to find resolution to things more complicated.? Hmmmmm

Economically we seem to be able to negotiate. At the core that is because someone believes they are getting the better deal and therefore willing to compromise. Economic incentive drives the spirit of compromise. Where there is none, we are most likely resolute in our belief and will continue to pile the dishes into the machine in whatever way we deem appropriate

Unfortunately, the frustrating part of the world we live in is…. there is no room for understanding that the dishwasher cannot get all the dishes cleaned unless we understand how best to load the machine. There is room for compromise on preparation but there will always be those dishes uncleaned if they are piled on top of each other without some understand of the proper order.

If we are to get anywhere in this highly complicated world, we are going to have to give up on all those entrenched beliefs. We are just going to have to accept the fact that the dishes will be clean enough no matter how they are placed into the machine.

Dishes? It is definitely not my turn - I washed them last night

Fredric Steck 5/28/24 Fredric Steck 5/28/24

Confidence

Lost along the way-----it should be our goal as adults to make sure they never lose it….

The doors to the elevator were set back from the hallway walls. They were framed with metal that was shining with a copper glow. The doors were mirrors reflecting this soft golden light.

He had stepped into this framed doorway studying himself in the reflection. If someone was exiting the elevator, he would be blocking their exit. He was fascinated with the reflection. The doors opened and he stepped into the elevator as did I. He was about 10 or 11 with a full set of braces which I suspect was the object of his observation.

Most boys this age finding themselves in a confined space with an older adult would stand there in silence hoping the experience would end as soon as possible. This was not to be the case as the potentially uncomfortable silence was broken with….“What are you doing today?” he asked with an assertiveness and confidence as if we had known each other for years or perhaps I was part of the family. Admittedly I was taken aback but rather than keeping my aloof adultness, his sincere interest in my future plans gave me permission to respond equally. I gave him the list of things I had planned for the day. “That sounds like a nice day” he assured me. “What are your plans?” I asked in response. “I am going to the football game!” he said with a confidence and excitement as if he had won the lottery and owned the team (Definition: ‘football” in this case is soccer as this elevator was in London.) At this point the elevator arrived and the doors opened which sadly ended our brief encounter. In his excitement the young man literally flew out of the elevator on his way to the football game and into a day which he will remember always.

Scene II

A sofa large enough to fit four or five adults – a coffee table – two arm chairs on either end. There were four occupants in this setting. The occupants were four adult men (including myself). These four men were a diverse cultural representation. Picture two men on one corner and two other men on the opposite corner with a wide-open space of brown leather sofa – empty. She looked like a blond Shirley Temple with a pretty white dress. The one she probably wore at Easter. She walked with authority and confidence. She walked around my chair and positioned herself in the middle of the empty space of the sofa and in one “Simone Biles” move bounced onto the sofa landing in a perfect “L” with her legs positions flat and extended straight.

She looked at me with a sweet smile as if to say “I guess you don’t know who I am----I belong here!” “You should all feel fortunate that I have joined you.”

I hope she never feels otherwise.

They were happy, self-assured, and overall confident that they were exactly where they were supposed to be and that those around them should feel fortunate to be in their company. They exuded confidence and self-assuredness. They were greeting the day as if it were the best day of their lives. We should not ever let them feel otherwise.

When did we start to judge our day before it even began? Why can’t we greet each day as if it will behold yet another exciting adventure? I dare say my young friend in the elevator greats his day with renewed enthusiasm every day. The little blond Shirley Temple only knows she can do anything she wants --- when she wants to. As adults we would do our children a great service if we allowed them to always believe that they can sit anywhere they like and converse with anyone they felt worthy of their interaction. Why do we insist on setting limits on our young children? We should endeavor to encourage them to approach each day as a limitless adventure for which they are fully capable. If we could maintain that sense of limitless accomplishment think how amazing our next generation of leaders could be.

Instead, we continue to create fear and doubt, intent on proving to our children that we have limits

Our children should approach life as limitless .Their ability to achieve equally resolute. Our gift of restraint is not a gift at all.

So, what are you doing today?

Fredric Steck 5/21/24 Fredric Steck 5/21/24

Italia

In advance of your summer vacation - I thought you might like this short read about the Bel Paese. No matter where you are headed this is a good place to start.

It is made up of 126 islands sitting in the shallow waters of the Venetian Lagoon, an enclosed bay between the mouths of the Po and Piave rivers. Most of the city is linked by 472 bridges.

Its founding was in the 10th century BC (I can’t even imagine), as a Republic it lasted from 810-1797. Its sovereignty ended at the hand of Napoleon in 1797. It became part of the Kingdom of Italy in 1866. Interestingly enough Goldman Sachs was established in New York three years later in 1869. The two occurrences are not linked in any way other than a humorous anecdote. The city was at its height of influence in the Middle Ages as the financial power broker between the East and the West.

It is the best way to enter The Bel Paese (Italia). Land at the Marco Polo International Airport – collect your bag and take a pleasant 15-minute walk to the boats. You used to walk outside but now it is an inside walk with the remodeled airport. You hire a taxi and you are on your way. This is not an ordinary taxi ---- this is a speed boat. The kind you want to drive. As you speed your way across open water, the captain dodges the other boats and takes the jarring out of the oncoming waves. Your boat slows as you this medieval city rises from the water and soon you are drifting through the canals of one of the most beautiful cities in the world and certainly the most unique

VENEZIA

The city is barely visible on the horizon as you look across the expanse of the lagoon. On a clear day you see the Alps rising to the north. You are not crammed into a taxi built for the height challenged. You climb down into the boat. There is a confident arrogance about the drivers as they are masters of their craft. The amazing maneuvers the pilots can do with these boats is nothing short of amazing.

After a long flight you are soothed by the experience of sitting at water level in your speed boat racing across the open water as the sun is setting. The colors of days end reflect in the sky and the water. You are heading to the most beautiful city in the world. Suddenly the speed of the boat is reduced to a slow glide as the captain turns into the first canal in this magical city. There is too much to look at. No skyscrapers but buildings preserved for years, struggling to adapt to the modern world. Everything is done by boat. No cars here. Think of all it takes to run a city --- delivery, movers, garbage, police, ambulances all of this is done by boat. The amazing pilots of these watercraft are able to weave in and out of each other and accomplish what we only thought could be accomplished with four wheels and pavement. Your taxi ride is the best tour. There is no dialogue just the sound of the boat as you glide along allowing your senses to tour the city. It is this amazing slow orchestration of daily activity against a backdrop of a city that has existed for centuries. You have arrived at the dock of your hotel. It feels as if you have already had the best experience but there is more….

Buon Viaggio….

Fredric Steck 5/13/24 Fredric Steck 5/13/24

Space (Copy)

I had the good fortune of spending the weekend in Vail Colorado. My daughter-in-law, son and I have made it a habit to come to this lovely part of the Colorado at unpopular times of the year. “Mud-Season” -- the end of ski season and before summer ---- others have declared --- not a good time in the Rockies. We have found it to be exactly the right time. However, it may not be the right time to go if you enjoy crowds. As the earth’s population grows exponentially, being in places devoid of people is getting to be more default.

I was in Roma recently. Roma is an amazing city with the remnants of an ancient past mixed with the conveniences of modern society. It is a walking city. You walk everywhere because driving is a challenge at best. Even if you could drive you cannot park.

I found walking in Roma to be a constant fight for space. When you became tired of fighting for your space on the sidewalk you start to stiffen up in order to protect your spot on the narrow pathways. Some of the beauty of this beautiful city is lost while experiencing this phenomenon.

Walking in Vail is a different experience. The wide level pathways were totally empty. It was a refreshing experience as the two dogs we were walking could go anywhere without having to deal with other dogs or people. It was a joy to be able to focus on the beautiful morning. Even that was unique as one morning was a blue bird day with a warm sunrise and the next was a reminder that winter was still in the wings as a light snow fall made the morning a brisk walk without the clatter of ski equipment or people.

These two experiences reminded me of what a big place the United States is. As an example, Italia is two thirds the size of California with 20 million more people. The average population density of Europe is 112 people per sq km compared to United States which has a population density of 36 people per sq km. It is an important consideration when understanding other people and cultures. Not everyone has the luxury of space.

Many countries have a long list of needs but many of those needs stem from the simple lack of space. People fill all space available. They are not only fighting for space on the sidewalk they are fighting for space just to live. If we were to bring spatial understanding into our decision making we might have a greater empathetic understanding of the issues of other countries. People’s lack space exacerbates all other challenges. Since we have so much space we do not focus on the benefits of space. A true understanding of space would help us to appreciate how other countries alter policy to deal with the reality of space. Japan has a population density of 338 persons per km or India with 434/km. Just two examples of the extremes of the need for space.

I doubt that airlines bring the quality of space into their decision making when it comes to the comfort of the people they haul around the world. Those discussions are about how many people they can fit into a small space to render the best economic outcome. They are always surprised when a fight breaks out on a plane because there is not enough space. It is unlikely they took into account the value of more space.

I saw a picture of people in the flooded region of Brazil. Now Brazil is a big country but at that moment there was not enough space for the people crammed into a small flooded part of the country. When the policy makers design a solution for future floods the subject of space will be again how many can we fit rather than what is the right amount of space.

Space is not just an economic question it is a human question. A question that needs empathy and a true appreciation that not everyone can walk in Vail alone. However, being able to walk alone should be the base case for how many people should walk not how many can walk.

Scusa – scusa……I need my space!!!

Technical Issues Last week - I apologize if this is a repeat for some….

Fredric Steck 5/9/24 Fredric Steck 5/9/24

Space

Scusa – scusa……I need my space!!!

Technical Issues Last week - I apologize if this is a repeat for some….

Fredric Steck 4/30/24 Fredric Steck 4/30/24

Snapshot

Occasionally, I find myself tumbling down the rabbit hole of Instagram. The other day a short arial video of San Francisco and the Golden Gate bridge came into my IG account. Clearly proving that I look at other things besides AI enhanced models. This video of San Francisco was stunning. I had just returned from an extended trip to another beautiful part of the world – Italia. In particular I was fortunate enough to spend a few days in Capri. My visit happened to correspond to the G7 meeting on this tiny Italian island. They were there not because of me, just coincidentally.

Sadly, what I hear most about these two lovely places is far more negative than the places in person. During my travels when I mention I am from San Francisco the response often was a question, asking if the situation is a bad as they have been told. The vision of a drug induced sprawl of humanity in homeless encampments. Given that vision you would think that San Francisco was a home buyer paradise with prices plummeting as people scrambled for the exits. Interestingly enough, the actual situation is a city where you cannot buy homes because of demand and people are actually returning to the city.

In a similar fashion I would hear how Italia and places like Capri are being overrun by unwanted immigrants and tourists. Certainly, immigrants are arriving and tourists are coming but the reality is a beautiful country, history on every corner, and welcoming people.

Somehow we need to figure out how to report news and descriptions in a manner that is not hyperbole or hysterical. Somehow a balance between the reality that every country and city have problems and issues to solve. However, underlying these places is a beauty that is beyond the hysterical nature of the reporting. I suppose you might not read the article if it painted a picture that was a landscape rather than a horrifying snap shot.

Sadly, there are homeless everywhere. I was on the plaza of the Duomo in Milano. The plaza had been blocked off from the usual throngs of people because of the G7 meetings. The emptiness of the plaza exposed the pure grandeur of this magnificent Gothic, Renaissance structure without the usual mass of humanity. Juxtaposed to this beautiful scene was a homeless man sleeping off to the side. Clearly these two snap shots revealed two entirely different stories.

In a similar fashion the video overlooking the beautiful San Francisco Bay and a picture of a homeless man on Market street would tell a counter intuitive story.

For me it underscores the importance of knowing the complete story rather than the snapshot. Secondly and perhaps more importantly ----

I will always remember to be thankful that I am allowed to exist in a scene that would be the envy of most no matter how big or small the lens is that they are judging their lives or the lives of others.

Make sure your camera is fitted with a wide-angle lens…..

Fredric Steck 4/23/24 Fredric Steck 4/23/24

Ristorante La Capannina

It’s the turn of the century – Nineteenth to Twentieth not Twenty to Twenty-one. A young woman living in Capri - a small island off the south west coast of Italia. A single block of limestone-3.9 miles long with a maximum width of 1.8 miles, rising 1,932 feet above the sea.

At the time, travelling to NYC was by steamship, which had replaced sailing vessels in the late 1800’s. The journey averaged 21 days. She arrived in NYC looking for work. What she found was her Italian husband. Missing their beautiful Italian island, they returned to Capri and opened a restaurant. They had a son, Antonio. Years later he travelled to NYC for work. Ironically, there, he meet his future wife. Like his parents they returned to the restaurant they had established on the lovely island—Capri.

During World War II, with the allies invading Italia, and the battle for Salerno negatively impacting Capri, they were forced to close the restaurant. They had family along the eastern coast on the Adriatic. They moved their small family to Abruzzo to escape the allied invasion of Italia in September, 1943. The allies choose to invade Italia from the south. After taking Sicilia both sides suffered great losses on the beaches of Salerno 38 nautical miles across a narrow channel from Capri. It took until June of 1944 to reach Roma. At the conclusion of World War II, the family returned to Capri to reopen their restaurant.

Capri is made up of two communities - Capri and Anacapri. An undersea aqueduct brings fresh water from the mainland as the island has a general lack of water. 2.3 million tourists come each year. Most come for the day, but those lucky few who stay in one of the lovely small hotels are treated to some of the best food in a country known for good food.

Ristorante La Capannina

Via Le Botteghe

Capri, Italia

This restaurant is tucked away along one of the tiny walking streets of this magical island. It is an amazing combination of sophistication and holiday atmosphere. In spite of the brutto few tourists, sadly mostly Americans, who show up in shorts and baseball caps, it is a restaurant that says, “please come properly dressed.” The small front door leaves you at an upper level, but the real restaurant is down the stairs. The dining room is fresh and inviting as the outdoors, green, white and pastel colors beautifully caressing the well-appointed tables.

The food is amazingly well prepared with a diverse menu of both recognizable favorites and choices unique to this restaurant.

The real elegance and ambience of this restaurant belongs to Antonio De Angelis, the son of the founder, and his son, Francesco. Antonio is the elegant 86-year-old owner. I mention his age only to underscore this gentlemen’s remarkable accomplishment and continued dedication. He patrols the dining room both at lunch and dinner seatings. His elegance and grace are as welcoming as they are charming. If you miss the chance to engage you are missing the opportunity to fully appreciate this beautiful restaurant. His son equally displays the art of the true restaurateur. They reward the guests with an experience that can only come from hospitality crafted for over 100 years. This restaurant, founded in the 1920’s, with a brief closing while the Allies figured out how to get rid of the Germans, has imbedded the DNA of hospitality and elegance into each generation of this family...

I so much wanted Antonio to join us for dinner so I could hear about his life and the history of this restaurant. It is a living organism, full of a history of serving meals to the famous and not so famous, as well as the brutally dressed t-shirt and shorts group

This restaurant and the 100-year family tradition that is their foundation is the best example of how restaurant hospitality touches the very core of relationship development and the sharing of true human connection.

Antonio and his wife live above the restaurant. After a morning coffee and walk with his wife, Antonio is at work creating, yet again, a memorable experience for all that are lucky enough to walk through his door. To arrive and be greeted by everyone ( i mean everyone)working there with sincere warmth and kindness is the epitome of hospitality and a true restaurant experience.

My experience with wonderful restaurant owners and their dedication to their craft is represented and encapsulated by this gentleman, his family and his restaurant.

Respect these establishments leave the shorts in the drawer --- dress up!!!!

Fredric Steck 4/16/24 Fredric Steck 4/16/24

Familiar vs. The Unknown

The Familiar vs. The Unknown

I was walking down an unknown street in an unfamiliar city and was thinking, as one does as the years move on at a seemingly faster pace. Thoughts of how one builds relationships and maintains them over time. Is it the familiarity of our surroundings that make those relationships easier? They were not always familiar as they were once new as we took the risk to change our surroundings --- to try something new. I am thinking it is the passage of time that softens the blow and mitigates the risk --- then it all seems familiar once again. Could it be that simple --- just the passage of time? I was thinking as one does walking an unfamiliar street…..

The Familiar

A place of comfort

Caring and consistent

Predictable welcoming easy warm

The road most travelled

Unguarded you feel protected

You do not allow vulnerability as you embrace familiarity

It is a place you can be exposed

Easy and effortless

You know the result

You are recognized by your accomplishments you are seen

You are loved and you allow yourself to love and be loved

Vs.

The Unknown

A place of mystery

Uncomfortable, unprotected, unsure

You build your walls, fear is your guide

A need to prove, to establish, guarded as you struggle

Not warm or caring but you are not allowing, lonely

Strength thru Vulnerability

A place of discovery to start again renewed

Excitement, risk taking, discovery

A new self, perhaps an old self

Lost without the familiar

A place of potential

Of love, success, comfort

A place that is now familiar

I was just thinking as one does……

Fredric Steck 4/9/24 Fredric Steck 4/9/24

Rule Followers

Lago di Garda

The largest lake in Italy—1100 feet deep and covers 142 square miles. Situated between Venezia and Milano. Towards the end of WWII Benito Mussolini and his family lived at the Grand Hotel Feltrinelli for 600 days in Gargano on the shores of Lago di Garda. He was not shot there, rather he was shot near Largo di Como and then hung in the streets of Milano. I was there under more pleasant circumstances…

As I sat in the sauna of the fabulous LeFay Spa above Lago di Garda, I was not thinking of Benito but how fortunate I was to be enjoying this beautiful part of the world…. until

There are many things I like about Italy, but what I especially like is their loose relationship with rules and regulations ---as my favorite pirate Barbossa said “The Code is more what you’d call “guidelines” than actual rules.” I like this attitude and have tried to emulate it where appropriate. My visit to the sauna, in my opinion, is just such a place for rules to take a back seat.

However, there are other people in the world who have a far stricter interpretation of rules. They not only believe in a stricter interpretation but believe that it is their job to make sure that others follow the rules! I don’t want to make this a cultural thing or goodness to be profiling… but I think people from the North of Europe are more prone to fit into this category of rule following. Regardless of culture, you have run into or witnessed those self-appointed rule police.

As I sat in solitude experiencing the intense heat of this spectacular sauna, lost in my thoughts of life and love, the door opened……two things exploded my solace

1. I believe there comes a time in a grown man’s life that no matter how well or poorly endowed you are, you should keep that exposed part under wraps, solely for the viewing pleasure for that person closest to you. The gentleman entering felt it important that all bystanders should be aware of his endowment or lack there of. At his age those days of unnecessary exposure are over and not improving. There is a reason sculptors use models in their 20’s not 70’s.

2. In his Saxon accent – “you are not supposed to wear swimming garments in the sauna, there is a sign right here” as he pointed to a sign filled with warnings about the heat.

I am a surfer from Southern California and I am convinced that board shorts are always appropriate. The Beach Boys didn’t write songs, loved the world over, about following rules, especially about what to wear or not wear in a sauna. But they did write about surfing attire.

I chose to ignore this unnecessary intrusion, although GFY did come to mind. Instead, I employed my favorite trick and pretended that my miracle ear was not functioning. I lasted another ten minutes in the heat and then exited without exposing my quite frankly better-looking body parts under wraps.

The Pirate Barbossa and the Italians believe rules are more like guidelines….

Fredric Steck 4/2/24 Fredric Steck 4/2/24

Vulnerable

I had a brief hick-up with the platform that supports this blog. The blog did not reach my readers at the usual time. I wrote last week about an absurd reality ---- it now costs money to talk to a real person. Such a treasured experience now has a price, but talking to a robot or AI is free--- or is it.

Alas, another costly tool that separates us. I started to think about the fragility of friendships. I know when I was going to school, I was sure that my friends would be my friends forever. Those friendships dwindled to a precious few and then they disappeared altogether. However, I knew the friends I saw every day at work would now be my friends forever. As the years flew by and working in an office became more challenging or nonexistent those friendship dwindled. I suppose that given time they will go the way of my school friends -- drifting into the sunset of in-person office work.

My daughter was born three houses from her best friend. And, Surprise, they are still best friends. How is it that some friendships stand the test of time and others fade with its passage?

Some run into the headwinds of competition, others flirt with convenience, some are cleverly strategic and some coincidentally are born of proximity.

Friendships can be illusory, but, just as in any other relationship, they take a lot of consistent work. However, a key component often overlooked is one’s willingness to be vulnerable. Rather than building a relationship with the guard rails of strategy, jealousy or manipulation, one might allow themselves to be vulnerable. It is vulnerability that allows us to be open to mistakes and the strength building of forgiveness. Best not to be too strategic in building a friendship or a relationship but to be present, available and vulnerable.

This “work in progress model” is all the more difficult when we are separated by machine distance. Building relationships in this way is the best argument for in-office work. The ability to forgive and rebuild is easier in person. Allowing oneself to be vulnerable opens the door to those around us to see that our fallibility is only a demonstration of our humanity which in turn is warm and welcoming, not cold and calculating.

-----Just musing about the treasure that people hold when they have someone who is “my best friend….”

Fredric Steck 3/26/24 Fredric Steck 3/26/24

Thoughts….

Thought:

It was not my fault---Last week’s blog did not reach many readers as the platform it is delivered on failed to perform. Solution? Call someone younger than me. I enlisted the help of my daughter – not a PA but an otherwise all-around brilliant solver of most problems – both technical and emotional. She called Mailchimp (The Platform) and began a “virtual” discussion to try to resolve the issue. Spoiler alert: like most things technical and virtual the discussion took way too long (3 hours) thus another data point of how technology has NOT made us more efficient but provided a different manner with which we waste time and productivity. Further spoiler alert: there was never any real solution as “they” claimed it was:

1) the time change

2) I published it too late

Therefore proving that even virtual people point fingers at someone/something else.

In an astonishing display of how technology has distanced us from each other or human interaction --- the platform offered a “live” conversation with a “human” BUT you had to pay for the opportunity!!!What!!!!! yes, it is true --- real human interaction now cost money. I suppose a more positive way to look at this amazing occurrence is to embrace the importance of real human interaction. Mailchimp is actually quantifying how important talking to each other is in real time and in real space...

Lesson:

While you still have the chance reach out to another human and talk to them in real time ------ while it is still free

Another thought.

I use my wallet every day. There is truly not a day goes by that I do not touch my wallet. I also touch and use my cell phone everyday ----Most days, when I am in the US, I also touch my car keys and house key…...Additionally but not every day I use my sunglasses.

Question?

Why is it that I put these things in a different place most days? Why would I create yet another reason to evoke stress on my mental well-being wondering around the house looking for these seemingly essential items?

I never (well almost never) misplace my underwear….

Buongiorno and Thanks for reading….

Fredric Steck 3/21/24 Fredric Steck 3/21/24

You Just Never Know… (Copy)

…unless you take the risk ---- even for just a little bit.

I took myself to lunch at a small French café in Mill Valley. I know the two women who run the place. Having not been there for a while I was greeted with hugs and “where have you been?” I placed my order and sat down at a small table in the back of the café. I immediately plunged into solitary mode as I look at nonsense on my phone. In a minute or two I was aware that an elderly man had taken up residence at the table next to me. Walking with a cane he slowly settles his somewhat delicate frame onto the bench next to me.

Decision time:

I had the choice of continuing my solitary nonsense scrolling or engage. Admittedly I withdrew from engagement and kept scrolling but….

“Do you live here?” My seat mate did not shrink from engagement. As a matter of fact, he plunged right in. He is a Scottish gentleman. His name is Callum. He taught Asian comparative literature for years at Cornel University. He was curious not only about where I lived but my ancestral heritage as well. I wished my sister had been there because she knows Scotland well. I was struggling to get beyond Edinburgh. His wife, Debbie, arrived. She was German and had taught at the private school my three oldest children had attended. We spent the next minutes tracing our lineage and within the blink of time we had a pretty good sense of our lives and our very distant past. We left a lot of discovery in-between if we had chosen to continue

I have thought about this encounter over the last several days and why it meant something to me. The obvious is the importance of taking personal risk by exposing a little of yourself to another human who you have no context. After only a few sentences it turns out that we did have context and what made the conversation interesting was that moment of discovery.

The other obvious point is the more we bury ourselves in the isolation of scrolling the more we distance ourselves from the very thing that makes life interesting. The warmth of discovery of another person.

I give my unknown seat mate a lot of credit for engaging with me. He engaged in a way that made his questions authentic. Another person might have found it intrusive, but his inquiry and his gentle manner only made me more interested and less guarded about my answers.

I am sure he was an amazing professor even though his topic seems a bit far afield. His natural curiosity only made me want to discover more about this charming couple.

My regret is that I did not stay longer as I am sure the conversation would have become far more detailed and interesting. My gratitude is for Prof. Callum who, once again, demonstrated that technology is amazing and valuable, but it is limiting. It is limiting the world from experiencing the true delight in engaging with another human. It allows us to play it safe, stay scrolling, as we hide inside our blank screen stare. There we are, risk free, looking at our phones.

Take some risk ---- “Hello, do you live here?”

I celebrate myself

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

“Leaves of Grass” ---- Walt Whitman (1855)

Fredric Steck 3/20/24 Fredric Steck 3/20/24

You Just Never Know…

…unless you take the risk ---- even for just a little bit.

Decision time:

I had the choice of continuing my solitary nonsense scrolling or engage. Admittedly I withdrew from engagement and kept scrolling but….

I am sure he was an amazing professor even though his topic seems a bit far afield. His natural curiosity only made me want to discover more about this charming couple.

Take some risk ---- “Hello, do you live here?”

I celebrate myself

And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

“Leaves of Grass” ---- Walt Whitman (1855)

Fredric Steck 3/12/24 Fredric Steck 3/12/24

Friends

Let me stipulate that family is an amazing unit and the love of family is uniquely human and wonderful. This week I am writing a short note in recognition of Friends. Especially real friendships. I don’t me the “let’s do lunch” friends, I mean the friends that actually “do lunch” metaphorically speaking.

I had many experiences this week which underscored how important friendships are in one’s life. This group of friendship experiences ran the gamut of the contributions real friendships bring to one’s life. A friend……

Introduced me to an organization that could advance my speaking engagements
Roasted and made a special blend of coffee just so I could try it.
Had dinner with me and my sons to talk about life and plans
Took over for another friend in an expensive obligation
Bought coffee
Sent me unique ingredients for my smoothie to help my hair grow.
Called to see how I was doing
Told me I sounded truly happy, which I am - nice someone else noticed.
Went for a walk with me
A friend called because I was the friend of the week. He was determined to reach out once a week to a friend he had not seen

The list goes on and it was only this week. We all have a lot to do, but we also have friends. It is hard to fit it all in, but fit it in we must. Without friends we lose support, assurance, affirmation and a unique form of love that reassures us that we belong and are not alone….

A Time to Talk

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, What is it?
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit. Robert Frost 1874-1963

The Pleasures of Friendships

The pleasures of friendship are exquisite,
How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit!
I go to my friend, we walk on the grass,
And the hours and moments like minutes pass. Stevie Smith 1902-1971