Construction
Dear Gentle Reader
My daughter has brought me kicking and screaming to the realization that my website needs some refurbishing.
È Solo Un Trucco will Resume in one to two weeks. In the meantime, be observant of the life around you You'll find it worth the effort
A presto
A Little Respect, Please
What is interesting about the casual wear revolution is it takes on an arrogant self-satisfying defensive posture. Much in the same way as the buttoned-up tie wearing group that they are revolting against. I just think it is revolting to wear your car-washing outfit to dinner.
In a similar manner that you want respect for your business accomplishments, the restaurant owner would like the same respect for their efforts. Remember the restaurant owner has to produce his/her best every night and it has to be different every night. Your software program updates every quarter---maybe.
Case in point:
Not all cultures believe in the casual-for-all-occasions style. Some actually believe that appropriate dress is a sign of respect for something so basic and important as food. Recently, I was in a restaurant in Milano. The restaurant was in a sophisticated part of the city. It was impeccably appointed. It was not a Michelin Star restaurant but an excellent one with a diverse menu. The owner and his partner were on the floor orchestrating the show which they must produce every night and yet they make their guests feel welcomed and unique.. I arrived at 8 which is early in this part of the world, and the restaurant reflected that with empty tables. It gave me a good chance to speak in Italian with the owners and they were patient with me. As I sat at my table with a view of the restaurant I watched as every table soon became occupied. What I notice was how people were dressed. The women were uniformly well put together. They were not uniform in their looks but uniform in the effort. To my surprise every gentleman had a jacket on. Some wore suits with ties, but most wore in open collar shirts with sport coats as did I. The entire dining room progressively felt more alive and special. The patrons of this restaurant had taken the time to put themselves together and the restaurant brought its best look as well. The combination was a show of mutual respect and the result was a lovely evening to remember.
It doesn’t take much to show appreciation and respect for one’s life effort ——- but you still have to do it!
Fashion at FedEx
Saturday night 530pm we are not at the hostess stand --- no no we are in line at the FedEx store picking up copies of my book manuscript.
I digress for a moment....when did the memo come out that told grown men that their legs were so cute we wanted to see them wearing shorts everywhere?? Women look fantastic showing leg but no man can or should compete especially wearing hard shoes and black socks----I have seen this 😱
It is not the amount you spend on your clothes it is how you present yourself. It is valuable to demonstrate that you spent some time putting yourself together rather than coming to dinner in jeans, T-shirt, and ball cap. The message--- I don't care how I look or making myself look my best. It is disrespectful.
Back to the story
My daughter and I are standing in line. A distinguished gentleman comes up and we are now a line of three. I comment on the fact that we are here on a Saturday night, that in turn moves the conversation along.
He is well turned out - Saturday late afternoon casual wear, but put together and he added a spark wearing white framed glasses. He commented that he liked my style. For a guy who spends money on clothes as I do, any compliment is well received. We had a good discussion about fashion and Italian shoes. Turns out he is a very important guy in the fashion business in San Francisco. I was honored that the three of us could have a great conversation about fashion trends. We were not "dressed-up" but we were thoughtfully "put together". Showing up in the same clothes you changed the oil does encourage conversation. You present yourself to the world everyday. You never know if you are standing in line with a CEO or your future financé but just in case it takes just a little effort to present your best self
Even in the fashion conscious FedEx store
Packing
The ease and value of the short trip – one or two outfits not seven, low cost, fast execution ---- if it doesn’t work out you are only two hours from home.
This past weekend I went to Vail, Co. Not quite off-season, but it is quiet and autumn in the mountains is beautiful. It is not that time of year when crowds become a consideration for everything you do --- reservations for dinner, lines to the lift, finding a seat at the bar. This was a special trip as my son and daughter plus my favorite Canadian daughter-in-law gathered to celebrate the arrival of fall, cooler weather, and the arrival of a baby girl to add to our skiing posse.
I am not writing about the value of off-season travel, skiing or celebrating the birth of a granddaughter — no I am talking about packing.
I walked into my daughters’ room and looked at the assortment of fabrics resting haphazardly within the confines of the two halves of her clam shell suitcase. “I know dad, I haven’t improved my packing skills”. In truth I was somewhat of a packing czar in the days that I had more control over the comings and goings of my children. I have mellowed these days and come to the understanding that how they pack for a trip is of little concern to me and very much an individual sport.
There are clearly styles of packing, but philosophically I find packing the least attractive part of traveling with the possible exception of getting to the airport, taking my clothes off for security, waiting to be herded onto the plane, sitting in a sardine can of a seat in a sardine can of an airplane, hoping to recover luggage, finding a ride to your hotel, finding your hotel
I digress…. The idea of packing for a long trip, defined as more than a week but less than three is formidable. The idea of peering into the future to decide what you are going to wear and to what, yet to be determined, event, is a challenge. There is the issue of shoes — tennis shoes, casual shoes, formal shoes and what if you are a woman how many shoes for how many outfits can be daunting. How cold will it be, will it rain? Do I need sweaters and if so how many? Just the idea of chronicling in your head all of your activities for days at a time, when you do not have access to that closet full of possibilities. After all of this foretelling of the future you have to figure out how to place all of these items into a suitcase. I once dated a woman who literally wrap every piece of clothing in plastic wrap before placing it into the suitcase. Now I like the idea of using plastic wrap judiciously but even I could not go that far.
The value of the short trip is the convenience of carry-on vs checking your bag. Figuring out what to wear for three days is a lot easier than for ten or twelve. Mistakes can be corrected as your short trip is probably close to home and therefore you can always find a store selling the sweater you forgot.
Packing is not a one-way street…Once you have completed packing your selection and successfully arrived at your destination, now you have to unpack the bag. Do you unpack everything? Just the things that need hanging, just your toilet items? For sure you will have to unpack everything because the pair of jeans you want to wear are at the bottom of the bag. It is a good reason to limit the number of stops on your trip because it limits the number of times you unpack and pack.
The short trip solves many of these problems — one packing and one repacking —
By the way, why is it that even though you did not purchased additional items, is your bag more difficult to close?
My daughter had packed for a long trip and I in my smug, self-congratulatory way had packed for a short trip. Managing to get everything in one carry-on bag. One other unnecessary contest with yourself — At the end of the trip the goal is to have worn everything at least once. I wore everything, only one repeat and everything washed. Now that is successful packing .
I left my daughter’s room feeling good that I had not criticized her packing job which would have been the criticism of no value. Comfortable in the feeling that I did not have to repack her bag as I have become so adult in the understanding that my opinion is just that, an opinion but not necessarily correct. Plus, the comfort that I will repack all of my items I so carefully folded and placed in the bag but now I don’t have to worry about the shirts I wore because I have more to choose from when I return home.
I am worried — next week I have to pack for a longer trip. I am sweating with packing anxiety.
Work or Coffee
Sitting in my favorite Santa Barbara coffee spot…..
I have written about Aaron and Kim and their business, Handlebar, in previous posts. They have become a local institution having been in business for 13 years. I was down this way for an advisory meeting at the University of California Santa Barbara, a visit with an “old” friend and to have dinner at my favorite restaurant in all the world – Bell’s. Having a little time, I stopped in for a coffee and visit with Aaron. I brought my laptop and took the time to sit there and work. I see people frequently sitting in coffee spots with their computers doing work or maybe just hanging, but they are here, in the same place as others --- a working community.
There is something about the community of people that drives them to find places to work together. There is an efficiency about it as well. As the discussion continues about remote work versus in-office work, I have observed that people still congregate to work. In spite of the appearance of multiple distractions, the people here are working diligently and in a very focused manner. Maybe it is the social pressure of wanting to appear busy or the support of seeing others working. Whichever rational you choose; you will work and be seen as a team player. Perhaps it is the visual of people working that drives one to work in concert.
The distractions at home are different. No one is watching…left to my own devices and no one watching I can go outside, pull weeds, water plants, or go to the kitchen to make something to eat, or clean out my closet, or a drawer, or whatever meaningless distraction happens to grab my magpie lack of focus.
I liked the community of an office. We might complain that we wished we were somewhere else but as long as we were here together, we might as well work and perform at our best.
Although there is the appearance of community and support in the coffee bar office, we are still in our silos of insular effort. We often are not talking to each other. I am sitting next to a woman who is working and we are not speaking. I don’t know her; I might bother her, but we are working and in our happenstance of a community, but we are alone. The office has the advantage of the commonality of purpose and of familiarity. We speak to each other and collaboration is achieved as the walls of unfamiliarity do not exist.
We are humans and are most comfortable when we are with others in support of a common goal. Yet we strive to work remotely. Here in the undesignated office, we find a community of others to work with. In reality it is a cheap substitute because we are working next to rather than with.
One additional thought perhaps it is the drudgery and challenge of just getting to a place of work that is the real culprit. If it were as easy to get to work as it is to find a coffee spot, would we be more willing to go to work in an office. An office of community, friends and common purpose.
One more advantage to office work for you distrusting types ---- your colleagues see you working rather than wondering if you are making a sandwich….
Core Values
There is the view of self and then there is the view from others. The Presidential election seems to draw this into sharper focus. The Democratic candidate, Ms. Kamala Harris, made it a point to tell people that her core values remain the same. Her opinion or views on politically charged subjects have changed overtime. Her opponent, the convicted felon, does not seem to have core values, but has opinions that change depending on what is politically expedient. However, his core value of self-importance is consistent. He remains dedicated to self and nothing else.
Does your core personality change when people see you in a different way? I think I am a person with core values that have been consistent. However, not everyone sees me in that same light. My children see me in a certain way, my business colleagues see me in another way. I have had relationships where the view started in one silo but over time depending on the relationship success or lack thereof changed to a completely different one. Often that change of understanding was charged with anger and disappointment.
Did I change or does my core stay the same while the ephemeral view of another person change? Perspective is all important. It is similar to people’s view of the traffic accident where two witnesses describe two completely different scenes. One sees a blue car while the other swears it was red.
I have a view of myself and a belief system that forms the core of who I am. For most in my circle of family, friends and colleagues that is enough and accepted. For others who have changed their understanding of my core values, it is often charged with anger and disappointment. The philosopher would say do not be concerned with what others think. In all probability the thoughts of others are determined, not by a change in one’s core value, but rather a change in them. That change needs to find a home, a reason for being.
It is the true strength of and necessity to understand the value of empathy. Not only to understand another point of view but to understand where that view was formulated. An understanding of core value. If I find a reason to be angry with you to justify that anger, I am probably not in full understanding of the why of your behavior or the value system from which you operate. Finding that understanding will lead to a better relationship regardless of opinions.
I respect Ms. Harris for focusing on her core values and her desire for the voters to understand them. I find it impossible to respect her opponent because he has demonstrated a complete lack of a value system. I might agree or disagree with policy as the likelihood of those promises coming to fruition is fraught with challenges. However, what I can rely on is an understanding of a value system from which the individual operates. That is a far better use of one’s time when making a decision on whether or not you wish to build a relationship or vote.
I remain true to my core and I respect those that follow their’s.
Boy, I have to lighten up!!!
Enough
My favorite chef and dear friend was visiting with her husband a few months ago. They were attending an event to celebrate a Michelin Star. Their Michelin Star!! The road to this accomplishment was not an easy one as they took on two difficult tasks -- building a business and having a child. As is often the case, there were many challenges on their journey, not the least of which was establishing an affordable living arrangement in an expensive real estate market. When they returned from the awards dinner we sat down in the living room to talk about their evening and life, as one does when returning from such a dinner. She recalled the year’s successes with the hospitality business she and her husband had established. Importantly there were personal milestones of the success of their son and moving into their own home and personal space. I watched her eyes close and her posture soften as she sat back in her chair reviewing these events, then she turned to me and spoke. “As I think of my life I have come to understand that I have enough.”
This comment resonated with me then and now. I have often thought about this statement and how meaningful it is.
Several years ago, I gave a commencement address at the University of California, Santa Barbara. I built the speech around a poem written by Robert Hastings – The Station. The core of this poem is a reminder that the joy of life is the journey and not the destination. Not having enough is related to this feeling that all will be better once……. I buy a fancy car --- a better house ---- an expensive suit ---- a wine collection ---- a better job --- a prettier or more handsome spouse and on and on ---- as we strive to accumulate more and better things in our lives.
While standing, the average person takes up approximately 2 square feet or .019 square meters of space. When you think about that statistic you come to understand how little space we need to be comfortable. One cannot or should not drink a bottle of wine every night. What was I going to do with a 10,000 - bottle wine collection or for that matter I would be lost in my 15,000 sq. foot home ?
We live in a culture focused on the future or a world that is somehow better than the one we are currently occupying, always reaching out for something bigger, better or just more. Many of us are in an unending race to accumulate things with which to surround ourselves.
I live in a small home relative to homes of my past, yet it is a large home compared with a majority of people in this wealthy country. I have kind and generous friends and a beautiful and loving family. I have health and a generous personality. I am learning to focus on and enjoy being in the present. It has taken me awhile to come to that understanding. It would be a good exercise for one to take stock of the benefits that life has afforded, especially compared to others around the world that live beyond insufferable conditions. It is as important as the exercise you do for your body to exercise an assessment of all that you have……
I have come to understand that I have enough….
Discipline
I appreciate the quiet moments, a melancholy song, and solace. Bringing memories of my father and his disciplined life — of my mother and her quiet power — my sisters when we all lived together and their importance when we were all under the same roof — our lives splintered as we left the nest to forge the path we are still on. Thoughts of the women in my life, often melancholy as those roads sadly fade away.
It is quiet outside, dark and windless. I rather enjoy this desk where I listen and write.
I visited my eldest daughter and her family over the weekend. On a gray morning over coffee, we were reminiscing about my father as Sunday was his birthday. She and I have many fond memories of my dad. On this occasion we were discussing his discipline. Maybe it is because she has young children and discipline always seems to be a topic around young children. However, this was not a discussion of “how to discipline” or “we disciplined the children”. That is the negative side of discipline or at least the not enjoyable part. Our discussion was about the memory of my father as someone who was disciplined and reliable. It was his disciplined nature that made him so consistent. He was dependable to do things in a certain way which is, of course, a form of discipline. He was present and available when engaging in a project or more importantly, engaging with my daughter as a young girl. My daughter remembers her grandfather as disciplined in the sense of focused solely on her when they talked. He was not a man whose eyes looked elsewhere, they focused on the subject at hand and for my daughter that was her. He had some endearing quirks as one remembers when you share love for each other.
A good example was his evening ritual when we were staying at a guest ranch for many Thanksgivings. Guests stayed in separate cabins and our large family occupied several of them. Dad would prepare himself for the evening meal in the dining room. Dressed in shirt, tie, slacks, and a sport coat all of which his wife, my mother, had picked out. Then he would go on his evening patrol and visit the cabins occupied by his son and daughters and many grandchildren. He was just taking a moment for himself to connect individually before the chaotic dinner around a large table in the dining room where focusing was a challenge. He was disciplined about this ritual and it is a memory that my daughter and I shared with great love.
His life was characterized by discipline. It was an orderliness laced with exacting detail that made him reliable, present, and available. She and I remember the occasions as the years went by of seeking advice and council from him because he would listen. Never distracted his response was thoughtful and precise. He was reassuring no matter what might have been personally distracting. His focus always superseded what ever personal disruption occupied his brilliant mind.
In our days of instability and doubt it is comforting to have the opportunity to consult with someone who has discipline. A person who is completely present for you, treats you with kindness and respect, a person who without judgment gives you his or her best consideration for those things which trouble you the most --- a disciplined person.
Happy Birthday, Dad
Love Your Son and Your Granddaughter
On the occasion of a breakfast on a gray day 18 August 2024.
Language
How did we miss its importance in our educational system? Were we so arrogant to think the world would only communicate in English?
I had my Italian lesson today. I have taken lessons off and on for???
I am not sure for how long. If I say a few years you get to plug in a number and if you heard me speak you might think it is a smaller number, giving me the benefit of the doubt as to my abilities.. If I say 6 years you might think I was fluent because after all -- 6 years!!! We love attaching numbers to things and then form an opinion and a judgement.
My eldest son has a podcast called Mr. Language. He speaks of his experience with language. He also speaks to the ease in which his baby son is picking up languages. On the other hand, I will struggle with it as I started learning Italian at, shall we say, an advanced age. It is a very hard thing to do and since I live in an English-speaking country it will not get any easier.
But
As much as I like to be self-critical, learning a language has been and will be one of the more positive activities I have undertaken ---- ever!
It opened up worlds not available to people who insist on speaking only English and expecting all others to do the same.
When I was with an amazing Italian woman I always felt inferior because I could not express myself fluently. However, I would not have had the opportunity had I not made the effort to learn. Although limited, my ability added a dynamic that would otherwise not been possible. As Sofia Vergara’s character, Gloria Delgado once said in a scene from Modern Family. “I am really smart in Spanish.” I know exactly how she felt as I am constantly translating and trying to say the correct thing when I am speaking Italian but, “I am really smart in English”.
Although I am not fluent I can always get us dinner and a place to sleep. More importantly I have enriched my life and those around me as I have brought a different culture, friends and language into our English-speaking family. I am appreciative of all those who have shown me the value of language, especially someone else’s language. Learning humbles you while at the same time giving you the confidence to expand your horizons and to reach out to others in a meaningful manner. It is the best way to show that you are an empathetic human who cares for others,
Grazie mille Teresiana, Linda, Delia, Rachele, e Karine per avermi mostrato il valore della tua bellissima lingua e il bel paese. Il tuo amore e la tua pazienza continuano a darmi la forza per continuare ed imparare
A presto
Discipline…
I am writing a book --- it is taking a long time ---- I am frustrated by my progress ---- and doubtful of the outcome.
I am disappointed at my lack of discipline to dedicate the time to finish what I believe is a worthwhile endeavor.
I have several friends who are building businesses on their own. Importantly enough they are all women. More importantly they all display the discipline necessary to complete the work and achieve success.
My point??…..
Building a business on your own is the most difficult task to achieve.
I worked for many years at an important Investment Bank. I am often asked if the stress related to that business was overwhelming. I never felt that the stress of that business was any greater than any other challenging goal worth the effort to accomplished. The stress related to this business was often stress from outside of the business. Market fluctuations, global events, client decision that did not go your way – these were stresses that in many ways were out of one’s control. What was not stressful was the pragmatics of coming to work. I did not have to worry about health insurance, renting office space, paying for the phone, buying a printer or for that matter where I would have lunch, what to wear, when to go home and when to come to work. All of this was taken care of under the broad umbrella of a large and complicated institution as an employee. Working for a big entity is easy compared to building your own business or working alone in any profession. I did not have to think about my work space as I had an office with equipment, a mail room, a supple room, lights and a desk. I had an unending supple of pencils, paper, printers, computers, phones etc. All supplied by the company.. I knew what to wear every day. My day and my job were well defined. At the end of the day, I could go home and not have to worry that it would all be there waiting for me the next day.
Building your own business whether that be a product or a profession none of these factors is assured. You have to worry about all aspects of your enterprise while you build your business, find clients, retain old clients and perform the job you have set out to do on your own. There is no big organization flying air cover.
To begin and take my project to the finish line, I need the discipline to stay focused when all around me is a distraction. I am struggling with the discipline necessary to build a business or to write a book. Therefore, I am having to re-train myself to have self-discipline. I have to fight the urge to go downstairs to get something to eat, walk outside to water the plants, go for a walk or anyone of an innumerable things that I can do which have nothing to do with writing my book. I must have the discipline to consistently work at my new job. Discipline is my new job and I am still in the learning stages. I am getting better but it has been a long road. I am impressed with my friend’s businesses that they are building but I am more impressed with their discipline.
…..I think I’ll go to the kitchen and make a sandwich…..or maybe a walk or???
Don’t Stress
“Everything is temporary, don’t stress”
A dear friend sent this post. It’s one of those clever quotes that populate IG and other media platforms, offering quick solutions to complicated emotional issues. However, I was intrigued with this one. On one hand it is correct as most seemingly challenging times do pass rather quickly. A car breakdown, a glass of milk spilled, a flight cancelled and so forth. Many of our difficulties that we stress about pass quickly, although in the moment they are dominant and literally take over our focus and emotional strength.
The phrase does not address the intractable problems that appear to last forever. Think of those that are living in war zones or countries that are struggling at every intersection of life. People living with difficult illnesses and are fighting for life. Problems that are temporary but where temporary has a far different definition and time line than my cancelled flight.
What struck me about this phrase is that the good things in life are also temporary as in life itself. I am far more stressed about the frailty of the wonderful things that life offers. Perhaps that is because I have a lot of good things and who wants the good things to be temporary. I stress about that because I am aware of my good fortune. I am stressed about the fact that stress is taking away some of the joy of the positives that life offers. The lack of permanence of those things is stressful and that stress cannot be as easily assuaged as the promise that this traffic jam is temporary and I will be on my way to a fun dinner with friends.
I think this phrase was intended to help people move through the challenging times. Indeed, there is some comfort in knowing those issues and problems will be temporary.
However, the good things ----- love, friendship, happiness and the pure joy of being with friends and family --- the temporal nature of those things is far more stressful and unfortunately far more enduring. Remember to appreciate all that is good for as long as it is…..
Just a thought ??? ----- I might have too much time on my hands today!!!
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…
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?
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……..
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?
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
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…
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
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?
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….