On Being Happy

Who Needs Food

2012-03-02T06:31:00.001-05:00

I'm starving. My stomach is growling and it's only 6:15am. I grabbed a nut bar on my way through the dark kitchen this morning so at least I can put something in there so I don't wake the other passengers. No dinner last night as I got home late after a very long, but productive day in Raleigh NC.

The good news is that I jumped on the scale this morning and I am only 177 lbs. That's down a good 4 or 5 pounds from my usual weight and in the territory that I really want to stay. It may sound girly or vain but I can really tell the difference that the five pounds makes. Mostly it is water I'm sure but every time I spend a week below 180 I notice it in my waist. Like most guys I likely store fat (and water) in my midsection. Also like most guys my midsection is the last place that sheds as my weight goes down so when it happens and the pants get loose I really feel it. I really want to get to 175 or so and then stay there for a while. It has been a long time since I saw that level but I think I can get there. The last time was well before I started exercising and I am carrying a lot more muscle now so if I get to this goal it will be a real achievement. It is Friday though, so my thoughts are on doughnuts and pizza!

Exercising has given me the freedom to eat more of the things I love. Everything in moderation mentality has kept these things as part of my daily life rather than binges and recognizing that I still have next week to push on the weight goal makes it possible to enjoy today.

Pizza and donuts for breakfast anyone?

And that makes me happy.

Ambassador For a Day

2012-03-01T07:53:00.001-05:00

Another early rise today (3:30AM). Hour and a half drive to the Airport (not our normal one) because the flight to Raleigh is about a third of the price. Lead by example. Keep cost down. Improve the bottom line.

It always sounds good when I am booking the tickets. When my body wakes me at 3:15 in anticipation of the alarm a half an hour later, the reality of the decision is brutal. Up and at 'em nonetheless and off to what should be a great day.

Our company is made up of mostly 20 somethings either right out of school or in their very early career. There is an energy about their age that makes it very attractive to work with a large group of them. They are smart, witty and fun to be around. Since I am old enough to be their father, I work hard to communicate on their level and be aware of the things that matter in the day to day office life. I feel like the more plugged in to them I become the better positioned I am to make decisions that might affect them.

Most important to our business though is teaching them good work habits and inspiring them to produce at a high level. Because most come from very good schools and over achieving backgrounds we need them to understand the goals or they will question the validity of work requests. We hire thinkers, but that puts more burden on us as leaders. We must lead. We must inspire.

For me this responsibility is a joy and one of the leading attractions I had when starting back in this business six months ago. When I started my first business I reveled in the process of building the team. Carefully selected young managers were given responsibilities well beyond their experience level and they needed to perform. So too when we built the team at our venture firm. And by the time I made it back to Wall St. I had the model down for interviewing, empowering and creating culture.

I may not have created the most successful businesses in my career and so perhaps I have this all wrong, but people who have worked for me have gone on to be CEO's, heads of sales, business owners, private equity investors, entrepreneurs and corporate executives. Picking and motivating people is one of the things I feel I do well and I feel like I keep getting better at it.

Today's flight takes me to an office that we opened in the early part of 2011 as a lower cost alternative to hiring everyone in the big city. We started as a test with a goal of 10 or so people to see if we could hire "our kind" of employees. This trip will put me in front of a team of about 25 in new office space big enough to hold 60. Not only did the pilot program work but we are now considering hiring into other departments in the office and are expanding the capabilities to cover client facing activities. As the team grows we need culture to be solidly in place.

So like some kind of high powered motivational speaker, I am jetting in for the day (remember I woke up at about 3 for this glamour ride and am flying in a USAir pack 'em in tin can) to tell the gospel of growth, attention to detail, treating others the way you want to be treated and becoming better than you are today.

I am certainly better than I was at their age. Not perfect, but better. I have lived through a lot of ups and downs and I sincerely have their best interests in mind. I am heading in hoping I make a difference.

And that makes me happy.

My Churches

2012-02-29T10:01:00.001-05:00

My churches are everywhere. As I thought about my upcoming day last night I realized that just like memories of people and places, the memories I have of the churches in my life are special. Today I am heading to one of the best, Our Lady of Victory which is down in the shadows of Wall Street. It's a tiny place right behind the giant Deutsche Bank building and next to Chase Plaza another fixture in the skyline. OLoV isn't even three stories high but for me it's one of the most important buildings downtown.

Today they will celebrate mass in honor of Dad. A few of my brothers and I are attending. 7:15AM, nice and early. It was the mass Dad would attend in the early days of my memory when his office was still at 100 Wall Street. It's also the place my big brother told me to get ashes when I started working at Merrill Lynch. I even remember Dad pointing it out to me on that first trip to Gorsarts while still in college to buy my first suit. It will be emotional to be back there but I'm certain Dad pointed out the church because he knew the refuge he sought and the peace he felt right there in the middle of all the action. An oasis for the soul.

There have been and are many other churches for me though. St. James of my altar boy and grade school years. Nativity of course, our family church still. St. Mary's in Vermont where I bonded with my catholic college boy friends. I wore a yellow cotton windbreaker that I stole from Dad, very 1950's and fashionable again in the early 80's. Three of us had them on as we walked, perhaps a little fuzzy headed to our Sunday mass and brunch ritual.

I have been to Notre Dame and St. Peter's in Rome. I walked around the national cathedral in Dublin and St. Mary's in Carrickerry where my great, great grandparents celebrated.

There's St. Pauls on the Common in Boston where Mary and I first raised our clasped hands with the congregation at the end of the Our Father. I still often feign this motion in other churches much to the dismay of my bride and teenage daughters.

Also on my list is the little chapel of St. Joseph where Mary and I prayed so hard for deliverance with our first baby coming, contemplating a move to California, with an NYC apartment to sell and a new home to find. Child care and new parent anxieties were at a high. The peace that daily mass brought me in those days is vivid in my memory.

St. Patrick's in mid-town and OLoV were my refuge as I searched for work. St. Patrick's and St. Agnes on 43rd were my daily mass stops for most of the last decade. St. Malachy in the theatre district made a home for me these past few years and now I have returned to St. Pat's.

Holy Cross is the church for my children. I love the little shore colonial style building, always jammed for holidays but empty most masses these days. It has been a tough place to worship for many years but the building and the presence of hope brings me back there and reminds me of first communions, confirmations, Christmas mass all dressed up with the girls, and quiet morning masses with the rosary ladies when I was lucky enough to work from home and head over for the morning ritual. No better way to start a day than seeing and feeling the sun through those windows as you quickly visit through the mass.

Finally there are my churches which are not buildings at all. The beach, the mountains, the forest, my car. These are the quiet places where I feel His presence.

My churches are everywhere.

And that makes me happy.

American Get Up

2012-02-28T06:18:00.002-05:00

This week B5 is mixing up the workout routine by having us focus on a single exercise each day. The first was last night's session of Turkish Get Ups. This is a very taxing, full body exercise that goes something like this.

Lying on your back take a weight, in my case 32 pounds, and raise it with one arm so that your arm is locked and perpendicular to the floor. Now keeping the weight and your arm in this perpendicular to the floor position, get up. Yep, just get up to a standing position. When you are up the weight is over your head and you haven't dropped it or bent your arm, or fallen over, etc. Next keeping the weight in the same position, lie back down. That's one.

To achieve the standing position you have to move through a series of motions to sit up, prop yourself to raise your hips and pull a leg back, then push off to stand. It is a very daunting exercise. Last night I did 51 in 20 minutes with the 32 pounds. I felt good.

This morning I performed the American Get Up. It goes like this. At about 3:45 my brain stirs and I'm conscious. I glance at the clock and smile, another hour. By 4:45 I have dozed and checked the clock a few times. I often tell myself not to check the time as it generally starts my brain going on the day's events. It's better to try and stay quiet right up to when the alarm would ring.

Today's Get Up was influenced heavily by the Turkish variety from last night. Contracting stomach muscles whined as they lifted me out of the warmth and comfort of bed. 4:45, pitch black, into the bathroom and on my way.

On the bus there is a change though. Rather than the continued blackness there is the gray of morning. No sun rise yet, but it's coming. The clouds in the east are visible and just beginning to pink up. By the time I reach the city we will have rotated sufficiently for the sun to declare itself and it will be day.

There is an energy that comes from the walk through the city's streets in daylight as opposed to the darkness. It is a hope for spring and warmth. It is a more natural existence than the pre dawn American Get Up. It is a chance to see the clouds and sun and feel its rays. This is a good thing.

And that makes me happy.

No Red Carpet

2012-02-27T06:38:00.002-05:00

I think the celebration of art is wonderful. In our day for music we have the Grammy's and for film the Oscar's. But we also have countless other events, seemingly made for TV that dissect the categories into ever slimmer slices, perhaps marginalizing the art along the way. They do however create more and more opportunities to broadcast the Red Carpet entry of celebrities wearing all their finery and posing, yes posing as in playing a part, for the cameras. The papparazi and the Entertainment channels live for the Red Carpet.

Me, not so much.

Last night I sat down to a wonderful pork loin roast which had been braised in wine, stock, crushed San Marzano tomatoes and herbs. It was served over creamy, though a bit lumpy, cheesy polenta and was covered with a sauce from the reduced braising liquid. My salad was a mix of red oak leaf lettuce and arugala, topped with goat cheese, good olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

It was delicious. It was home made. And it was served in the kitchen to those interested in pork roast and not in the red carpet. Meaning, I ate by myself. To each his own and by no means am I talking sour grapes here.

It was actually perfect. I had been to the evening CCD mass for the 8th graders while the roast cooked. I had enjoyed looking for the recipe earlier in the day and thinking through newer ideas on how to prepare the meal. I needed a few ingredients so I took a mid-afternoon drive to the store. And, I spent the preparation time in the kitchen with puppy Sadie.

When it came time to eat I clicked on Pandora and sent the stream to our wireless Bose speaker,(this thing is great) whose sound filled the room with depth and breadth that you wouldn't think possible.

Each artist presents their music differently and yet Pandora does its thing to group them perfectly into a play list. The end result was a quiet celebration of art.

No Red Carpet, just a man, his meal, his music and his dog. A simple celebration of every day art.

And that makes me happy.

The World's Junk Food

2012-02-24T07:25:00.002-05:00

I have been moving around a lot lately visiting 3 different countries in the last few weeks and for some reason I got to thinking the other day that we have done a pretty fair job at introducing our kids to junk food in most of the places we've visited. And that's a really good thing.

Let me start by saying we are all very healthy. Mary does a fabulous job making sure there are always good fruits and vegetables in stock. With all the girls in the house we eat a ton of salad and generally during the week we keep the carbohydrate count, especially from sugar, on the low side.

We do however, like our sweets. And we are great fans of comfort food. So it is that we have built a history of great food experiences around junk.

In our own country we have been prolific. We love these very special donuts in NYC from a place on the lower east side called Doughnut Plant. They are different than any you have had before. Unique flavor combinations delivered in an unbelievably fresh and soft square doughnut. We have had the monster pancakes at Griddle Cafe. They were bigger than a large dinner plate and each order was three. We have had pub food in Ireland and England. I long ago got everyone hooked on biscuits from Harrod's.

On Wednesday I was in Toronto and heard all about poutine. I think the girls would love it, French fries, cheese and gravy. I'll have to put that on a list. I will also have to add the Tim Tams I brought back from Sydney which disappeared in a matter of hours, and if ever we have them in Hong Kong I will splurge the 60 cents or so for these amazing buns I had on my Saturday morning there.

In fact, I think should now be on a quest to deliver a global experience of junk food to my family. As I think about it, I feel it is my responsibility. Who else will enlighten them on the glories of profiteroles. It's a big responsibility but I think I can handle it.

And that makes me happy.

Now Versus Perfect

2012-02-23T09:38:00.002-05:00

Yesterday had me driving to the airport at my regular posting time and I never caught a window to write.
Today it's back to the bus after a long day and I'm a bit stumped for subject matter. There are several ideas in my queue but energy level is a bit low today so I think I will rest on the ride in and see what comes to mind rather than doing a lousy job on one of those good ideas.

So here's what I came up with, Now versus Perfect. Case in point, now it's 8:30 and I am struggling to get this out. I should have just stayed alert and gotten this done on the but. In this case Now would have been the better answer, I think, though as always I will never really know.

I know I write about this concept a lot but it is one of the big drivers of accomplishment through time, so it is top of mind for me always. To move fast or move well. Doing both is obviously the goal but it is always a trade off and at times a big dilemma.

Take my Sales recruiting as an example. I need to hire. I have been trying to hire since September. I see the need for more people in the field everyday. But still I have only one hire to show for my efforts. Am I being too picky?

I am about half way through the Walter Isaacson book on Steve Jobs. Early on, and so far throughout the book, the most dominant trait portrayed about Jobs has been his unwillingness to compromise. The original Mac was something like a year or two late. He completely redid the layout of the Apple stores a month before initial launch target date delaying them months. It took him over a year to fin Tim Cook. Jobs' attention to detail and perfectionism really grabs me. I'm certain that I am not unique in this feeling and perhaps it is part of his lure. We all want perfection. He held out for it, and ended up being right. This makes him either a genius as most would agree, or a spoiled brat that got lucky.

I suppose I struggle with deciding for Now always because I feel a bit like Jobs must have. I have a very good sense of what is right and especially when it comes to people I am most often spot on. I am no Steve Jobs but I guess anyone in the Apple influenced world looks up to his success.

Hiring for the sake of hiring is wrong. Hiring an imperfect candidate is wrong. Hiring no one is wrong.
Deciding now is often better than waiting for perfect. The dilemma continues. Today, I am going to get a lot done to stay ahead of myself. I'm on the "Do Something" end of the pendulum today. And I will decide this question when I have a more perfect answer rather than Now.

And that makes me happy.

Of This I Am Proud

2012-02-21T08:13:00.003-05:00

It's a Tuesday start of week. For some reason that generally makes for a longer feeling work week but it is great to have Monday off. It was a very good day.

Not so the last Monday holiday. It's about a month since Dad died on Martin Luther King's birthday and many of the emotions that I have felt have in one way or another made it to these pages. There is one though that has been waiting, and that is the pride I felt around the making and delivering of Dad's eulogy. If there were ever a time that I doubted God's influence in my life (there isn't) these happenings would surely have removed all.

I have known for years that I wanted to be the one to describe my Dad at his funeral. I have been told since childhood that I look the most like him and I have felt very close to his strengths and weaknesses as I watched him age. There were many times when the perfect phrases would come to me to celebrate this quiet unsung hero. I made note and kept building the verse in my head. Right after this past Christmas I started writing them here. "On the Third Day of Christmas" , "Honor Your Father and Mother"

When it came time to write the real thing I was sadder than I had anticipated being. I felt cheated and a bit overwhelmed such that all my ideas flooding back to top of mind were jumbled and I had real trouble turning them into something cohesive. Add to this an unexpected tension created by my desire to do the talk myself, meaning alone.

One of my brothers also wanted to speak and went as far as drafting his thoughts. He wasn't present when I "claimed" the eulogy and frankly it's in his nature to get what he wants so he stood firm in his desire to share the task. Two speakers, split the time, you say what you want, I'll take a different angle. I couldn't see how this would work. Not enough time, too much overlap, too disjointed and thus not what he deserved. Ultimately, this came to a head and he kind of backed off, but definitely left the impression that he wasn't alright with it.

Along the same time line I struggled finding the right words until as is often the case the theme hit me in the shower. My mind was clear and I turned my thoughts to my Dad and the whole talk was there. Over the next two days I changed words and a little of the order but I had what I wanted for the most part in one pass.
The words were set and I for a time I felt relieved that I wasn't going to have to share the delivery. The church would hear the words that have been in me for many years remembering Dad in a way that I thought was right. It wasn't right though and I struggled. All through the next day or so. On the morning of the funeral I got in the shower, this time searching for the right thing to do. Dad, how can I make this work? What is the right thing to do? Don't worry, you know what to do. Your talk has six sections. Haven't you realized it yet. You are all my children and you will be together now taking care of each other and your Mom. Do this together.

The funny thing was that I didn't know that the speech had six sections, I wasn't sure. With soap in my hair I ran through them; family, love, words, faith, etc. It could be, and yes it was. Out of the shower looking at the printed words the day changed for me. This is not about me, or Dad, it's about us and the future, and sticking together when times are hard. It is about supporting each other and demonstrating to all that will listen the lessons he taught us. This is about Being the people we are meant to be. My heart was full. Instead of an experience just for me, this has turned into an opportunity to give a gift. Perhaps it should have been this way all along, but I'm not certain the words would be right. Maybe I should have been more open to my brother. I will never know.

What I do know is that after talking to my five siblings in the funeral home on the morning of the mass, I scribbled their initials next to the sections that they were to read. I went in birth order thinking little of content for each person. When the words were finally read at the pulpit it was as if each section had been written for the speaker. My older brother told the crowd of my Dad's joy at the naming of his son. He's named after Dad. And they continued throughout the 15 minutes we spoke. I finished the talk with the lesson. When taken as a body of work my Dad was a teacher. He taught us to make good choices and to care deeply for others. He always put others before himself and lived his life in service.

I have been learning these lessons close on 50 years now and I can say that I may have never had an educational experience as clear and moving as this one. I am very proud that I did the right thing and the experience shared with the ones I love will be in my mind forever.

And that makes me happy.

Negotiating With The Boss

2012-02-17T07:36:00.001-05:00

One of the things I like most about Bruce Springsteen's music is his ability, especially in early years to capture exact sentiments and emotions in a very specific set of syllables and musical beats. The cadence of many of his songs is like that of a preacher bringing his sermon to a culminating point where the crowd can't help but shout, "Amen".

There are verses in songs like "For You" and "Hard to be a Saint In the City" that crescendo in both lyrics and music. "The tracks clack out the rhythm, your eyes fixed straight ahead..." or "It's not that nursery mouth I came back for, it's not the way you stretched out on the floor, because....". I guess you have to know these songs well to pick up on the cadence, but they are almost Baroque in their spinning forward nature, propelling the listener to the next phrase.

My sense is that achieving this kind of exactness in clarity of communication takes great skill, much refinement and a strong hold on the message being delivered.

Yesterday I was talking our CEO through a tactical pricing discussion based on market feedback about our service. He didn't really want to hear what I was saying and I got the feeling that he was digging in his heels so I turned the conversation to a much more strategic level to make the point I was trying to get him to see. The key in a discussion like this is to be able to run through a series of side points, objections, strategic alternatives and rebuttals and yet maintain the focus on the main message. With this CEO that is often difficult as he is very tactical and trusts his experiences to date. Me and our CFO are the guys he hired though to help him change so I need to continue to challenge him in these negotiations.

As I rehash our conversation, I think it ended up going pretty well. I am no Bruce Springsteen, so rather than grabbing him with the perfect line or phrase it took me several angles and examples to get the point across and in the end I definitely didn't get complete agreement. I like the idea though of each conversation as a performance. When you perform you have to be prepared. You have to know your material, keep the overall "show" in mind as you deliver each piece and build to that crescendo moment. I think if I can keep this in mind as I take on the challenges of change my negotiations will improve and we have a better chance at hitting our goals.

And that makes me happy.

Choosing

2012-02-16T06:24:00.002-05:00

This morning I'm thinking about how we, I make choices. I have been interviewing Sales candidates very heavily and have a few that I think could do the work. In particular, I met a gentleman yesterday that displayed very good selling technique during our conversation. He was prepared, he had developed several thoughtful questions, took good notes and used them later in the conversation as follow up, and he tried to close me. He had done research on the company and the role and our conversation was pleasant and unforced. The thing is, I didn't like him.

I am both blessed, and cursed by being a perfectionist. When I am able to find the exact right solution I know it right away and I move forward decisively, often at times when others are unsure. When it comes to hiring people I think this connection comes from a belief that regardless of experience the person sitting in front of me has the drive, personality and temperament for the role. It's often in how they say it, rather than what they say.

Compromise is always difficult. I like the shirt I'm wearing today, but the sleeves are too long. I need to hire Salespeople but if I hire jokers I lose time and create problems for myself later this year. So I keep my eyes open and remain critical while pressuring myself to move faster. If I have to wait to find the right person, I better see a lot of people as quickly as I can. No decision is often a worse outcome than an imperfect decision.

Judgment I guess is the thing then. Decisions come down to trusting that the combination of your heart, or gut, and your brain being aligned. "I see that this person is qualified, and I feel that they can do the job". Good judgment comes like all things then from practice, from taking controlled risks and from listening, reviewing and learning from earlier choices.

Over the next few days I will decide. I need to move forward to get more resources in the field. I am listening carefully to both my heart and my head and I am confident that this will result in good choices. That's how I choose.

And that makes me happy.

Sometimes the Hardest Thing and the Right Thing Are the Same

2012-02-15T06:36:00.002-05:00

Why can't things just be easier? Why does everything have to be so hard? Some times the hardest thing and the right thing are the same. Song lyrics for sure, and easy to rattle off to a catchy melody. There are countless teenagers I'm sure singing them each day without thinking through what they mean.

B5 sent around a great article last night about a guy named Mike Powell. Mike was a state and national champion wrestler, made the olympic trials team and eventually became the coach of his local high school's team and a teacher in their special education department. In a word, Mike is a rock. First physically, as he took on all comers both on the mat and off. Also as he trained, beginning at age 3 and wrestling well above his age throughout his development. He kept stats on all his personal bests: pull ups and dips in 10 minutes, tire flips against the clock, etc. As coach He built his team on two fundamental principles, love and working harder than the other guy. Mike would tell his team that they might never be the most talented but if they were willing, there would never be a team in better condition. He pushed them hard and worked right beside them.

The hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

Mike developed a rare muscular disease that often takes people by surprise and results in death in very short time frames. Mike beat the disease once but was struck again. Through it all, the determination to survive, the pain of side drug side effects, and the 180 degree assault on his persona as the toughest man alive, Mike did the right thing. He set an example for his kids, and all of us and remains determined to do the right things at every turn. Some say he is a better coach now in his withered shadow of his former self, but it seems to me that he might be even stronger. It's a different kind of training but perhaps more powerful and the results more enduring.

I can't due his story enough justice: here it is Man In Full

What I can do is remember that Mike is an inspiration to all of us. It's hard to find the right words to coach people to their best performance, it's hard to pick the right people for your team when many are out of work, it's hard to take someone off your team for the same reason, it's hard to be a good example every single day, it's hard to live the way you want others to see and follow, it's hard to find the right words, it's hard to say them at times, it's hard to both stay focused in the moment and yet think about the future, it's hard to be kind and yet direct. But sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same.

And that makes me happy.

How Could I Not, or If You Were Me You Would Too

2012-02-14T06:27:00.001-05:00

I just read that Valentine was a popular name in Roman times. Taken from the word Valens it means something like worthy, strong or powerful. The Saint is actually likely a group of men carrying that name who were all martyred for advancing Christianity in the early days in Rome. Clearly special people worth celebrating.

This morning, like every morning for the past two months she pulled herself out of bed, perhaps for the second time this night, and took the puppy out. She will be up for good, if not already, in about 20 minutes. She will make some kind of breakfast, toast or a muffin and some tea that will likely not get eaten but be delivered to the Senior as she readies for school. She will have turned on the car in the driveway to warm the inside and likely spun it around for easy exit. She will have her tea. Always tea, with lots of milk, and an ice cube so it's not too hot to drink.

Dog fed, taken out again and playing in the kitchen she will wait for the eighth grader to appear. Another breakfast, help with some last minute homework or discussing logistics for the day and then off in the car to deliver on time.

Luckily perhaps, today the girls are off school so instead she may be able to stay in bed another ten minutes or so.
On the average day she does more for other people than anyone I've ever met. Always interested in helping, always with a smile.

I was up as usual this morning and when I got into the jeep to head out there was a card and some chocolates on my dashboard. Last night it was a great veal parmesan dinner.

In a word she loves me and I feel it in every part of my life. I wish I could be and do better for her and thus I do my best each day. There is no one I would rather impress or see smile. There is nothing I wouldn't do.

She is Mary.

And that makes me happy.

Great Weekend, Now I need to Relax

2012-02-13T06:29:00.001-05:00

My weekend got off to a great start Friday night as I watched the Superbowl, taped thoughtfully for me last Sunday. The girls watched with me. That's a first. Not only did they watch the game live but never have I seen them sit through the same game twice. Their interest faded as the night wore on, but I watched the whole thing and even though my body was still trying to figure out what day it was I stayed up til the end and went to bed at about midnight.

I woke as usual at about six but definitely didn't feel right so I stayed in bed and slept off and on until qbouit 10:30. "Sleeping in like a teen ager" said D2, "impressive". Finally jet lag had caught up with me. I only left the house twice all weekend. I got the fireplace going and kept it lit most of Saturday and Sunday. We had my Mom, sister and brother in law for the evening on Saturday so the fun was brought to me. My favorite. Sitting around in the small den, talking, playing guitars and looking at pictures. Just perfect.

Sunday morning I woke as usual spelled Mary from puppy duty and hit my regular Sunday workout at B5's house. In the afternoon it hit me again. With Mary working and D2 out with friends, D3 was reading quietly and I had to lie down. Despite all odds I actually took a nap, something I am rarely able to accomplish.

I should have known it would all add up. Sunday night saw us watching the Grammy's and trying to get to bed on the early side. I fell to sleep fairly easily but at 2:40AM I was awake for the day. It was classic Sunday Night Syndrome but elevated in anxiety levels by the jet lag.

Will D1 get into a study abroad program. Is she really going to leave her college? Where will she go now? I don't want her just dropping out? What is D2 really thinking? Is she ok? What m I going to do about Hong Kong sales? I need another person in NYC. How can our competitio price so aggressively? What am I missing? If I realign territories in the US how should I carve it up? Who goes where? Do I have enough people coming in for interviews this week? I need to set up a call with Doug and Kevin.

So it went for two hours until I got up at 4:45. I feel ok. Perhaps a little anxious from being out of the home office for so long. Today will be a day to get a lot of things done. I got caught up on Friday so today I should be able to push on all fronts to move things forward. I need to move faster. I need to pull the timeline in. I need to get more out of each day.

But I need to relax. B3 sent around a great article from Sports Illustrated this morning. It was about Mrs. Mara the matriarch of the family that owns the NY Giants. While the stadium rocked at the beginning of the Superbowl, she quietly took out her rosary and asked the Blessed Mother to help Eli throw the ball in the right place. This is a great lesson in trusting.

Today I will relax my mind a bit and let the trust I have in my abilities and the Blessed Mother point me in e righ direction. I will get it all done.

And tht makes me happy.

The Sixth Day

2012-02-10T06:25:00.001-05:00

All systems appear functional and ready to go. Battery seems a bit low but definitely charged. This could definitely be a donut morning. I don't think I've described them yet. Another time perhaps.

Today it's all business. I feel like I have been given a gift. Though the trip home from Asia takes seventeen hours or so, due to the direction of travel it only takes a couple of hours. In essence I was able to work close to a full day in HK and then still catch up on all the US fun and games from Thursday in the evening after arrival. I hit my pillow at about eleven and am on the normal 6 AM boat.

I will spend the day on catch up conversations for sure, but I also need to keep making forward progress. I didn't meet as many sales candidates as I wanted in HK so I have to light a few fires there. I have 3 candidates in the home office to decide on and we are now down another person in account management. Travel is not an excuse for lack of progress. I'm sure I will get a lot of people saying I should have taken today off, but that's not the right answer. Today is a day to demonstrate passion for success.

It would be easy to take all the niceties and sympathetic words to heart. No one would blame me for a little rest, but I have been given a sixth work day this week and I intend to use it. Only I can know what is right for me. Only I can push myself to do more. Only I am responsible for my success. Pump it up and go. And certainly, only I will feel the satisfaction when my head hits the pillow again tonight.

And that makes me happy.

A Different Kind of Commute

2012-02-09T21:47:00.001-05:00

What time is it anyway? Who cares. I'm up and running again in Hong Kong. It's still dark so I know I am back to winter. My flight landed late last night so I stayed at a hotel near the airport which means a trip on the MTR into the city this morning. MTR is Hong Kong's metro or subway.

Up an escalator out of the hotel into the omnipresent mall. They are connected to everything here. I make my way down the corridor of as yet unopened clothing stores, shoe stores and those stores that sell all manner of dried shrimp and fish. What's that music? "Oh Come All Ye Faithful"? Yes, a very nice Muzak version is playing. Christmas music in China, in February. Chuckle.

Change for the ticket machine. 21 HK dollars, about three bucks. Down to the train and were off. It's about 20 minutes into the Central Station then a switch to the Island Line. I look up at the list of stops. First stop: Sunny Bay, Disneyland. I wonder how many times I would just want to stop in on Mickey if I travelled this route every day. I wonder how the dwarves are doing today. Chuckle and hum, "Hi Ho, Hi Ho"

I can't believe all the school uniforms. There are brown pants, white shirt, brown tie; blue pants, white shirt, blue and gray tie; blue pants, maroon, tie; green pants, green tie, and all manner of gray pants, white shirt and ties. Fortress School, TCS, St. Paul's. There are kids in full warm up suits. It must be gym day for them or they go to some kind of athletic academy. They travel in little packs babbling along or texting away. There are so many IPhones!

Likely just to make me feel at home there is a crazy guy chattering out loud as he pretends to read the paper addressing no one in particular and everyone at the same time. Just like in NYC he is ignored. It sounds even funnier in Mandarin. I wonder what he's saying.

On and off the school kids come and go, replaced by commuters. We hit Central Station and join the river of people moving towards the Island Line. The moving walkway carries us through a hall completely covered by ads of what looks like a bank or credit card company. Their jingle plays as we pass by. It sounds kind of like the theme to a game show with a cash register ringing every 10 seconds or so. I feel a bit like a futuristic worker bee going through mind control.

Subway comes we pile on. Looking around it's the same mix of schools kids and commuters. Hey for once in my life I am tall! Hardly any heads above mine on this train. Ten gum cow gum tamon. Stand clear of the doors. Next stop, Wan Chai. Looking up I see the universal commuter silence code is being broken by a lady being loud on her cell phone. Yes, she is getting the blazing glares from fellow commuters. This is quiet time. B5 would be proud of the laser beams being sent in her direction.

Up and out, I hit the street. Smells of breakfast everywhere. There's some spicy tofu. Look at all that chili sauce. Chicken in some kind of brown sauce. Chinese buns, slightly sweet, and some kind of rice burrito without the tortilla. Over one block and up the steps to covered walkway to cross over. I have a feel for this neighborhood and sense the direction. I still love all the white and red taxis straight out of a James Bond movie. They speed around the city, the modern rik shaws delivering the working man to the office. Two blocks up then to the left past all the car dealerships and I'm there, Gloucester Road. My sense of direction holds and it's time for work. Thirty minutes door to door half way around the world, a commute is a commute, but I loved the sights and sounds of this one.

And that makes m e happy.

The Best Thing I Own

2012-02-08T06:43:00.000-05:00

Money doesn't buy happiness. You can't take it with you when you go. The best things in life are free.

So much of our time is spent on things. Saving for things. Acquiring things. Taking care of things. Fixing, upgrading, replacing, refitting. Buying, selling, owning, losing. Giving, receiving, returning, re-gifting. We work hard to have the things we need and to provide the things we want for those we love. I started this diary with a phrase from Ignatio Loyola brought to me through a great book about the Jesuits, by way of my Mom and Dad: Compare and Despair. Basically a lesson to us all to be happy with the things we have rather than the things we want. To compare ourselves to others is to invite despair over the things we lack.

And yet I, like everyone else thinks about things. I guess it's human nature, so I am not too worried to tell you that I have a favorite thing. I ignore it most of the time and I have only had it for about half my life but as I thought through my actions of this morning I realized it was truly my most precious possession.

Checking out of a hotel is usually ritualistic for me. There is always that risk that you will leave something behind when you are by yourself and so I tend to move methodically through the process. Today was no exception. We had early meetings, but I wanted to get in a workout as I knew I would be on this plane for nine hours and wouldn't have a chance after landing. I had gotten mostly packed the night before but there were still a lot of things to account for and I knew that after hitting the gym I wouldn't have that much time to get out of the room and be on time to meet my partner in the lobby. I set things up to the best state possible and then changed to head down for a sweat.

Today's torture from our sensei was a set of 100's that involve weights and can be grueling on the hands. When we are in the garage this means kettle bells and lots of chalk to avoid the blisters. For these workouts I take off my wedding ring and leave it in my car. In thenhotel room, i got changed and picked up my excercise list and that's when it hit me. "I have to take my ring off".

I didn't really want a wedding ring. They seemed very bulky to me way back when and I had never been comfortable with any other ring on my hands. I don't really like watches either but Mary solved that problem as well. When it came time to pick our rings it was important to Mary that I get one too, so we shopped for one that might work for me. In end we found a guy who would make one specifically for me. After trying on all the usual shapes and sizes I figured I could wear one of it was very thin. If thin enough it wouldn't rub against my other fingers and bother me. The solution was using a very thin blank which was shaped and beaded to perfection.

Twenty something years later that ring is still on my finger and there have been very few instances on which I have ever thought to take it off. This exercising though is an exception. My hands are very callused from the bells and they scratch my ring. It needs to last me forever so I am now taking better care of it.

As I took off the ring and thought about the hectic hour to come I was hit by emotion brought on by everything that little piece of metal means to me. "What if I were to ever lose it?" It was only a short pause but it was powereful. I was filled with the feelings of my whole adult life. Mary, the girls, our stuggles and joys. My travels, our losses, our trips together and times at home, and that morning's Face Time. Years and years of untradable experiences.

I slipped my ring onto my watch band which I instinctively put on for work every day knowing that the best protection would lie in my habits.

The 100's work out was a killer. I was pressed for time when I returned but got going with no casualties, ring in place and content in knowing that I have a favorite thing.

And that makes me happy.

Man to Man vs. The Zone

2012-02-07T05:58:00.001-05:00

I will eventually get to see my Giants win the Superbowl. God bless my girls for recording the game foe me. I have been reading just a few stories, but it's not that hot a topic in Sydney. One of the ststories I did see centered on the effectiveness of the Giants secondary in one on one coverage. They played a number of schemes but when it counted they stuck to their men in individual coverage and made things tough for Tom Brady as the defensive line closed in on him. I think one the man to man is always better if you can pull it off. By relying on a single man to do his job you create more leverage on the field. It's also the best way to control an opponent, again, if you can pull it off.

Three quarters of the way around the world, I am spending several grueling days with one sales rep. We are together from 8 each morning until about 10 each night. Joined at the hip calling on prospects, walking, taking cabs, eating, and waiting. This creates lots of opportunity to get to know each other and a very important chance for me to influence this young man. I am making every bit of the opportunity. It's one on one, man to man. The better I instill him with knowledge and trust the better he will be when I return to the zone coveage from home base. The time alone is priceless. He sees how I handle innumerable situations from an objection in a sale to the cab vs walk standard moving fro meeting to meeting. I get to see him in action with clients and in social situations to determine how much I can trust him.

The end result is a much more focused relationship that can be fostered from afar and renewed in a short call now and then. We become a team.

While it is always difficult to leave home and spend this much time away from loved ones, this is where I need to be. In the field, one on one with my team, showing them I care. Leading by example. Making them better and holding myself to a higher standard. In this way we all get more. More sales, more trust, more momentum and more reward.

And that makes me happy.

Something Different; Something the Same

2012-02-03T19:00:00.000-05:00

I think it's Friday, no Saturday. The sun is up, but just barely. I have already finished my work day in NYC, been to the Gym, started my load of laundry (yes, I am doing laundry!), and gotten myself set for tonight's over night flight to Sydney.

Now I am just waiting. Waiting ultimately to be home with the people I love. They are all on my mind as they will gather (actually right about now) for dinner at B4's house. They will eat spaghetti and meat balls like when we were kids and I'm sure they will tell more stories about Dad. The good ones are coming out now. That's the Same: I love my wife and family.

I am also looking forward to my day. I have a love of Bonsai trees. Don't ask me why. I read the other day that they are a three dimensional natural artwork. That's one good reason, but to me they are more. The care involved, the forward thinking and planning out how something will be in 30 years is captivating. The simplicity achieved through meticulous attention appeals to the perfectionist in me. With all of this love and respect for the art I have never been to a true Bonsai garden. Today I will visit the best one in Hong Kong. That's Different: I love new experiences.

While walking around the streets of any big city I think you are either comfortable in the crush of the people or not. Hong Kong, and in particular the part of town I am staying in is so crowded that almost every sidewalk has a barrier to prevent people from flooding out onto the street. I am comfortable in this environment. Maybe it's the years in Manhattan where I walked all those miles exploring my home, or maybe it has been the travel for work that has put me on walking tours of many major cities. Either way I enjoy the walking. In Hong Kong everything is in Chinese. Some English but mostly characters. This can be difficult for navigation. In the midst of this hustle I come upon a Catholic School and all the children heading in for their day. Paid uniforms for girls, including ties and saddle shoes. Shirt and tie for the boys, just like when I was young. I miss seeing this at home. That's the Same: I love the comfort of the streets and the simple times of my youth.

Tonight I get on a plane for Sydney Australia. I have never been there before. I have mixed emotions. It was the Aussie's that plucked me out of my business and then fired me three months later sending me on the odyssey of the last three or so years. The place will be beautiful though so I bury the memory and look to create new ones. I am on a mission to get something, anything that says, "Bondi Beach" on it for my girls. I want to taste their beer and hear them talk. I want to see the harbor and the opera house and look out on the south pacific. I want to add another stop on my list of places I've been. I want to explore another new place. That's Different: I love opening new horizons.

There are always comforting pleasure in things staying the same, but with out something different I think life might be a bit dull. I love them both: Something different, something the same.

And that makes me happy.

Mak's Noodle Shop

2012-02-02T03:19:00.000-05:00

When I was young I was incredibly shy. Shy to the point of immobility. Yes, not the normal, "oh gee whiz, I'm shy" but a painful fear of rejection often so strong that I would alter the truth to avoid situations in which I had to ask for help.

The one exception to this was in sports. For some reason, perhaps natural talent, I felt comfortable in any new situation on a playing field. When I was 13 or 14 I had no trouble jumping into the back of an older kids station wagon to ride to a hockey game of 17 and 18 year olds. I was completely out of place socially, but I could skate with them and thus felt confident in my place. Beyond this though I was a mess.

I was horrible when it came to girls. The first two girls I dated, if you can even call it that, happened more by luck than any active pursuit by me. I went to formals in high school only with friends of my friends girl friends as I was unable to make that kind of phone call. It wasn't for lack of desire either. I can remember crushes going back to eighth grade. Even in college I had a very hard time. I was an easy friend maker, but stumbled royally when it came to anything more serious. Thus when I finally did find a lasting girl friend my naive brain assumed that it would be forever and the inevitable break up, which took about 2 years to completely effect left me even more devastated.

This fear / shyness plagued me even as I matured. While the stakes changed, my behavior often didn't, but I knew that one of my life goals would be to conquer this fear and turn this part of life into an adventure. In 1990 or so I got pulled into a Tony Robbins infomercial for his Personal Power program. (I should describe this in detail someday). The program put me on a path to change who I was.

Twenty or so years later I revel in the unknown. I am now a sales manager whose job it is to call people I don't know and ask them to help me, and give me money. Not only do I enjoy this but it turns out I'm pretty good at it. I have always been a bit of a performer and as I combined this with quick thinking I think I became a pretty good leader. I am nowhere near where I need to be across the spectrum of "all things I should be good at" but I am a completely different person than the boy who couldn't force himself into anything new.

Last night, after a very long day and an evening filled with phone calls back to the US, I walked out of my hotel in Causeway Bay, Hong Kong with a little note pad page on which two Chinese characters were written. These characters, I was told in broken English, were the name of the local Noodle shop I should go to. I had requested a recommendation from the concierge for a local restaurant the he would go to. In other words, not one that he would expect me to go to. The result was Mak's Noodle Shop. It's a bit of a chain in Hong Kong specializing in wontons and home made noodle dishes.

After wandering down the correct street comparing the hand written characters on the paper with the neon sign versions of characters I came upon a shop that looked like the right place. The characters were a little different but similar enough for me to trust that I was at my destination. The other fact that suggested that I was there was the lack of people who looked like me. Everyone in the closet sized restaurant was Chinese. The kitchen was a little corner in the front window where the cook pulled together the soups, noodles, vegetables and meats that make up the menu. The menu was of course in Chinese but they referred me to a few articles on the tables written in English and then brought over the one waiter that spoke my foreign language. Walking into this place would have been impossible for me in my youth. I remember my first experience in London. I travelled there alone to experience the city. Still afraid of my own shadow I embarrassingly convinced myself to eat at McDonald's on my first night in town as I was afraid to walk into a pub by myself and eat alone.

Not only did a get a great dinner, which cost me about 8 bucks by the way, but I experienced the joy of communicating with the local people. I was able to tell them that I liked their food. They were able to see that I meant what I said and I think they got a bit of a chuckle out of the whole thing. Sure I got a bunch of stares, but as I left the place leaving likely the biggest tip of the night for them (about 4 bucks) I was on the top of the world.

I topped my night off with a glass of wine in the hotel bar reading the Financial Times and headed off to bed.

I am proud of the person I am becoming.

And that makes me happy.

Those Roads in the Sky

2012-02-01T05:13:00.002-05:00

It's been a long time since I have been in Hong Kong and much has changed. In a city whose buildings look either like they are going to crumble at any minute or are so new that the land they rest on didn't exist 10 years ago there is little space for roads. As the neighborhoods climb the hills on Hong Kong Island jutting out directly from the mountainsides the space that would normally be used for roads has been left out. Thus as the need to drive up and down the vertical distances increased, the engineering minds have built an asounding labyrinth of elevated roadways that appear to move in and out of the buildings.

On one cab ride today we weaved our way up the hill on a series of roadways that we associate at home with highway interchanges rather than city streets. There were banking curves that wrapped around one building and looked like they would deposit us on the 10th floor of another. Much the way landing at Kai Tak airport gave you the up close and personal view directly into apartment windows, the twisting around of all of these elevated roads brought us into near view of the population of the city at home. It's an amazing phenomenon unlike any other place I have been, but it gives the drive around the city a uniquely Hong Kong flavor.

I do love it when a city displays its character through buildings and public works. Much of the provincial British influences are gone and I haven't passed by any truly old landmarks as yet so I was pleasantly surprised to find these roads in the sky during my first full work day here.

And that makes me happy.

See You in Seventeen

2012-01-30T04:53:00.002-05:00

This is going to be a weird day. If things go according to plan I will have to write another entry here before my feet hit the ground.

It's 4:30am and rather than my normal bus or boat, I am in a car heading to the airport for the first leg of my trip to Hong Kong.

I'm not sure you have ever scene the UPS commercials where they boast of truly understanding logistics, but if you ever plan a trip like this one you will quickly gain an appreciation for all that goes into "getting there".

Organization is everything. Keeping all the requirements for success clearly in mind is often a challenge as the various vectors of people, places, and times start to add up. I have found that keeping a list in these times really helps. When a task jumps into my head I write it on the list. As a task is completed I cross it off. Simple but effective.

You see I think the difficulty many people have with organization is that they let the enormity of "the everything" keep them from accomplishing "anything". Stymied by inertia they freeze rather than taking small steps in the right direction. The list helps you avoid this.

The good news for today is that once closed in to the flying tube I will have 17 hours to get myself organized for the coming two weeks of travel, change and decision. I'm certain I need a list for this one so it's good that I will have plenty of time to write it.

First item: Write post for Tuesday prior to landing hong Kong.

And that makes me happy.

Two Boys, a Bus and a Boat

2012-01-27T06:32:00.002-05:00

The shirt I grabbed in the closet this morning has French cuffs. I don't wear many of these anymore. Too much hassle in the morning and no where near the desire of my youth to "look the part". Still it's a nice shirt and it allows me to reach into the box for cuff links. The box come from one of my brother's weddings, can't remember which. The cuff links today are from Fordham University. I went to business school there. I will have to relate that story some day. Quite proud of it and represented a turning point for me.

Dad went to Fordham. B4 went to Fordham Law. And I went to Fordham Graduate School of Business Administration (GBA). The three of us never really talk about the school. We each had our own experiences there and were in that portion of life when you are figuring out who you really are. If I remember Dad's story, his stint came at the prompting of his Father in law. B4's seems to me was a follow in Dad's footsteps move. Mine was an "I need to get this done quickly" decision. Nonetheless we each carry a piece of the place with us and it binds us together like so many things.

As I grabbed the cuff links and these thoughts whipped through my head I thought about last night's bus ride home, shared with my Fordham brother and wondered if Dad had anything to do with it. There are something like 2 million people that commute into the big city everyday. They take trains, buses, boats and cars. So it was a great surprise that the moons aligned for B4 to meet me in line for the 6:00pm bus heading out of town. He has been taking the bus for years. I started about 2 years ago and other than a few times in the morning our paths never cross.

What a treat. We compared notes on Mom. Spoke about my work. Discussed his work world and shared an hour. IPad's in hand we ended up reading together in the quiet of the highway. It was very comforting.
I'm on my way back in today. I thought B4 was going to be on the boat as he has a meeting in my neighborhood this morning. I am very disappointed. Typically, B3 and I commute together on Friday mornings and I knew he wasn't in today. Most likely the logistics of B4's meeting required a different path this morning so I will just have to glance down at the cuff links, think about Dad and remember how lucky I am to have B's one through five. (And of course my sister too).

I love them all.
PS. B4 Was on the boat and now he is with me in my office killing time til his first meeting of the day! Love it. Thanks Dad.

And that makes me happy.

That Kinda Music Just Soothes the Soul

2012-01-26T06:30:00.001-05:00

Mom and sister came to dinner last night as we all adjust to the new reality. Very nice for me to have them in our house. I can tell that Mom is having a hard time but as always she is putting on a good face. I guess we all are. Great thoughts from Mary at grace about being together.

We all look for ways to feel better. Brothers and sister have had a constant text message chat going for over a week now. All are copied on the responses so I can see how each is coping. Stories, locations, views from a car window, and quiet moments all trigger memories. Everyone is dealing in their own way.

I have found comfort, as always, in music. Like the Bob Seeger song says, "that kinda music just soothes my soul". It touches me and makes me feel my pain more evenly by allowing me to go a little deeper into it and then surfacing back again.

Beautiful music, in my opinion tells stories through both the lyrics and the melodies. The resolution of chord progressions or harmonies take me on trips to places of slight dissonance and then back to perfect triads. There are stories of love, hope, fear, redemption, longing, escape, survival, rebellion, resilience, strength, weakness, courage and faith. Too many emotions to count and too many paths of music through these stories to describe.

We sat at the dinner table through two such experiences last night. The first was the YouTube presented rendition of Adele's "Someone like you" performed by a local guy from D1's grade school class. He and his co-star scored a record deal on the back of this powerful presentation of harmony and depiction of love and loss. I have watched the video countless times now and remain stunned by its power.

The second song was a rendition by D2 of her, "Song for my Mother". It could be called Keep Holding My Hand but if I were naming it I would tie it back to the inspiration. Live music often has the potential to be more powerful than recordings. It trades the perfection of repetition for the energy and emotion of the audience flowing through the performer. Though there we're only six of us we were all moved at the story of reliance and love in this song.

Neither song changed the facts. Neither story undoes our pain, but both serve to soothe me through their beauty. Now I need to put my earbuds in and glide off somewhere before this bus hits the city.

And that makes me happy.

Antique Little Boys

2012-01-25T06:31:00.002-05:00

I think it was Tuesday or maybe just this Sunday. We were driving home from Mom's house D2 and I in the Jeep. I suppose it must have been after Dinner though like many things I can't remember whether it was dark or not. (last night I walked all the way to the wrong side of town before realizing I had come in the other way and had to walk an extra 20 minutes in the other direction to come home). As usual, I control the music in my car. I often let the girls plug in their stuff but if not it's my iPod driving the tunes. D2 actually likes some of the music I listen to and I love to hear her sing along. We were quiet, not much to say given the circumstances of the week "My Father". And then "Forever Young" came on.

This is one of my favorite songs. I like the simplicity of Bob Dylan's original version but I think my favorite is the one we were listening to by The Pretenders. Something about Chrissie Hines' voice makes songs like this one, "Kid" and "2000 Miles" ring in my head for days. The sentiment is simple and the lyrics direct. I won't paraphrase because I would just ruin them so here they are. Some things are best left untouched.

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

As I listened to the words, heard D2's quiet voice in accompaniment and sang myself I thought not only of the loss, but of the life. I recalled watching D2 and her eighth grade classmates on stage at graduation singing these words. My Dad, as always was in the house.

In one of the many, many emails, text messages, FB posts or online comments someone shared the cliche that "Grandfathers are like antique little boys". This was true of my Dad. There were times when he showed his age for sure. I often referred to him as a grumpy old man. But there were also lots of times when his impish soul came shining through. He was great with children and he could move easily into his class clown antics; I think because he had that Forever Young quality about him.

I won't soon forget that car ride. I will hear my daughter's voice as it comforted me quietly. I will remember the little boy that stayed young in my father and i will do the same No other words necessary. She was there and I was there.

And that makes me happy

My Great Room

2012-01-24T06:26:00.000-05:00

Here's what I was working on last Sunday. In an effort to feign normalcy I will try to finish this entry.

Sun streaks in through the skylights in thin slivers. It's mid winter and the sun is very low even at One o'clock in the afternoon. There are windows on three sides as well so as the sun moves west my right side is warmed by the reflection from the wood floors. The room is bright as I settle in for an afternoon of playoff football including our beloved Giants later today.

While the fireplace in this room is gas, that may be the only flaw in our great room. Twelve foot ceiling, lots of couches to lounge on, could use a bigger TV but that's not a big deal to me. It sits right off our kitchen so I can see and hear the comings and goings of the household. Sadie isn't trustworthy enough yet to wander around in here but if she is in a lounging mood we set her up next to us on the couch for a nap. She gets it!

When I was pretty young, perhaps five or six, I used to love sunny winter days. As does our house now, our homes as kids both faced south. This brought the sun across the front which created little spots of warmth depending on the time. One of these spots was always right by the front door. With it's sidelights running from floor to ceiling, the rays of sunlight stretched across the floor warming the carpet and any little kid that may have sought to curl up there in a blanket or bathrobe.

I remember a picture of D2 from about the same age. The scene is upstairs in our cueent house. The sun is low in the morning sky and streams through the eastern window of my bedroom across the floor, into the hallway. There lying in a little ball, wrapped in one of her blankets is a smiley little face, barely visible but reflecting the warming rays in her joy.

On days like this, sitting in the great room I am reminded of that warmth. Here on one of these couches is the only place that I have a shot at napping. It has to be quiet. It has to be warm, but not hot. It helps if it's sunny like today, and my belly is full. Perhaps if I just close my eyes.....

As a final note, though, the great room also masters its intended purpose as well. As a place of gatheringthose couches served us well this past Wednesday. Yes I understand I am jumping around in time with this post, sorry. Gathering as a family for dinner, first teens, then adults and ultimately all collected here to share love and sadness. My 9 year old nephew took his 11 year old cousin to the mat much to the delight of all I attendance. The wrestling ring gave way to conversation only long enough for the teenagers to discuss the latest FB trends and show off their skill at Temple Run on their smartphones.

Yes, The great room is great for many reasons and as I sat there last Sunday, never imagining the week that was to come I was happy in my ignorance. Now as I think about those sunny winter days, I still look forward to a quiet afternoon and perhaps a moment or two of rest.

And that makes me happy

Our Father Who Art in Heaven

2012-01-23T09:21:00.001-05:00

It's been a week. I can't believe it. Usually the only time I don't post is when I am on vacation from work, but this was a different week entirely.   As you will see, I lost my Father. It was noon or so on Martin Luther King day when my cell phone rang. My mother was already on her way to the hospital. The week that followed was both crushing in its sadness and exhilirating in its days of support, admiration and love for the greatness of my Dad. It is estimated that over 1,000 people queued for up to an hour and a half to speak to us at his wake. We stood there for 4 hours in a constant stream.

I will write about development and delivery of the words below later this week but for now I mark the start of start of the next phase of life with our words remembering Dad.

Our Father Who Art in Heaven

It strikes me that these words have always been true but I feel them more personally today.

[Eruzione moment]

Ours is a family of talkers. When we were kids the decibel level went up exponentially with the passing of the dinner hour as each one of us talked over the other. If you need an opinion, just ask, or don't, and you will get about 7 or 8. I know that each of my brothers and sisters would describe Dad in their own words, equal in love and happiness to mine but if we did that now we would be here all day, so with the greatest show of love I could imagine they have allowed me this privilege. If you have been lucky enough to hear Mom give a speech you know what I mean about the talking, we definitely get our "outspoken-ness" from her.

And yet our father was a relatively quiet man.
It's not that he couldn't be loud, if the Giants were on or if Brian was chasing Michael again. He had a booming voice, but he seemed to use it only when he really needed it. Mostly our father communicated through well thought out words and very specific actions, and there in lies his lesson for us. Well thought out words and very specific actions.

Dad excelled at being there. He taught through example and he lived his life creating a road map for each of us to follow. Here are a few of the things we know from his time on The Way:

The Fitzgerald's
I am one of "The" Fitzgerald's. If you have been around Monmouth County New Jersey over the last 50 years perhaps you've heard of them. They're kind of like a pack over there in Little Silver. Something like six of them to start but the pack is growing and they seem to be everywhere now. Our Dad created "The Fitzgerald's", from the very early days travelling the state to hockey games, if Dad didn't deliver his Fitzgerald boys there might not be enough players. From Navesink house league to travellers at every level of the program, Mr. Brooks could be heard yelling, "Fitzie get the puck". Dad was the original Fitzie, and what a legacy he began.   Dad introduced CBA to The Fitzgerald's in 1975 and one of his sons walked those halls for 14 years straight. Interestingly enough, Dad's All American hockey playing Fitzgerald didn't attend CBA, and she played in cleats instead of skates. The Fitzgerald's took BC by storm and Marion 's success launched the second phase of Dad's field hockey career as his grand daughters picked up sticks. One of Dad's proudest Fitzgerald moments came when his eldest son announced the name of his first grandson, "Anthony William Fitzgerald". That means there has been an AWF in the tri-state area since 1911. Dad's local fame grew with reports from Northern Jersey Baseball and Soccer, local field hockey and golf scores and another onslaught of Fitzgerald's running through Rumson Fair Haven High School (6 years straight, and counting). We will be starting a second run at CBA in the fall at Garret joins the Blue Shirts. Dad made his daily local rounds and heard the accolades from all, Vickie at Flair, Bobby at Cardners, Rob at LS liquors, Jimmy, at Rumson Market and many more. Dad lived for the successes of his clan. How about this one, Tony graduated from Middlebury something like 28 years ago, Dad has had 4 or 5 cars since then, but despite the years and change of wheels, he still has every college and post grad school sticker on his back window. His gospel iaccording to Fitzgerald is spreading now in Virginia and Los Angeles with many more missions to come. This man was Proud of all of us Fitzgerald's.

Family, Love - A Man of Action
From the moment he turned to Mom at the end of the aisle on their wedding day and said,"now I have a family" to his final round of encouragements to each and every one of us just a few days ago (Our Dad actually thought FB was just for Fitzgerald's), Dad's life was a consistent testament to living for others. And his actions spoke louder than words ever could. He road the train for forty some odd years so we could grow up on bikes and beaches. We learned to field a ground ball or catch a pass because he showed us how to do it. He recited Latin to prove it was learnable and he stood on countless sidelines, blue lines and receiving lines through every kind of weather and event to teach us the true meaning of support.   He had some great family teachers and partners along the way, Lala my Mom’s Mother and Autie Marg McLaughlin were his mothers and Ed McLaughlin and Bill Kearney were his life long sounding board. They taught him well but it was he who turned the lessons into action Here are just a few of the ways you knew Dad loved you:

- he taught you the eefess pitch
- he held you in his arms so you could smell his Skin Bracer
- he sang to you (Little Mary Sunshine was particularly brutal in his car)
- he played chess, checkers, gin rummy, floor hockey, offense/defense or table top football with you
- he brought birthday bags from Cosby's
- he threw you up in the air in a pool
- he gave you orders
- he gave you advice without preaching
- he gave you advice with preaching
- he took you with him to get ice cream (Friendly's, Cherry on Top)
- he wore fake hair, interestingly often in mullet form in your presence
- he mailed you a picture of yourself in grammar school
- he wore a baseball hat from your team or school
- he made you a duck sandwich after Christmas
- or he offered you his ABC gum

Individual Love
Corn, Bug, Bruin, Zook, Marksie and Gritz, Shan Shan, Waisey, Torte , Widgie, Eice and on and on. Seemingly odd call signs for some air squadron, or perhaps code names for a sortie, these names manifest the investment Dad made in each of us. Our Dad was a master at making you feel like you were the only one that mattered. He created these persona and brought them to life for us everyday. He spent his days making little notes to himself, typically on little yellow sticky pads and attached them to the inside flap of his wallet. Little Silver vs. Red Bank, boro field B & M , BC vs. UCONN at home on the 7th. He kept it all straight for each of us here and delivered every single time. I'm not sure why but I somehow scored a trip alone with him to San Francisco when I was about 12. We took like 3 vacations as a family our whole lives and here I was in San Fran with him, by myself. Dad created these personal, individual relatiohships with each of us. As a grandfather he had four or five different names from Dandad to Da so that each family's grandchildren could have their own special piece of him.

There's the smallest anything collection with Ellie, the hilarious greeting card trail with Ed, the 50 years of Giant tickets with Charlie, and of course the Yellow Roses with Mom. If he knew you he created a special place for your relationship and nourished it in hundreds of little ways. Likely the best example I can give you of Dad’s ridiculousness in this vein is my baby sister’s nick name. Marion Margaret, Munch worth business brain, yellow pepper, George Jetson, Hamburgler, French Fry, Azrielle, 36 er, Star, Blade. Again it would take all day to explain but I hope you get the picture.

A Man of Words
Our Dad was a Man of Letters. Ever a voracious reader, he kept Quotes from Marc Antony on his bedside table. Through his early Greek and Latin studies he had control over most of the Romance languages and reveled in conversations in French. He always had a book you should read and often had two or three going at the same time. An Atlas at his side at all times he traced history and his own travels to his beloved Paris and the world in great detail. He had a gift for language and often communicated his most important thoughts in writing. His Grace said at Christmas dinner was often written to reflect the themes created by Mom and his thoughts of joy from the year. This tradition is continued masterfully by Brian as we gather now at 8 Woodside. Dad had a lawyer's editorial mind and he would use it to write wonderful and often simple letters to us all while we were at college on those yellow legal pads.   While the letters were simple the language and message was always clear, "Do your best".

Dad also collected his favorite displays of our language and he would recite them at will. The Latin Mass, The Mighty Casey, The Four Horsemen, St. Luke's version of the Christmas Story and more. This love carried over to music as well. He loved John Denver, Peter Paul & Mary and Johnny Cash. The first guitar any of us ever played was a nylon stringed number he bought himself. He learned a chord or two but quickly shifted focus back to being a groupie as the boys began to play. (Hey Mannn)

A Man of Faith
Finally, and most importantly our father was a man of faith. From St. Saviour's to Brooklyn Prep to Fordham, Dad's faith was built by the Jesuits. They gave him the tools, the knowledge and the discipline to discover his beloved saints and all their stories. Many is the day you would get a call or a note from him, just after morning mass reminding you of a feast day. It is very likely that Dad's devotion to family, the underdog, the less fortunate, and the everyday people in his life was forged by the instruction of Jesuits like Father Finnerty. Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam - For the Greater Glory of God. Dad understood that the best way to glorify God was through a life of service.

If the Jesuits built him, Marion and the Mylods, and in particular Lala perfected him. He not only loved and respected her but revered her as a perfect example of how to live. He once told me that Lala was the closest thing I would ever see to the Blessed Mother on this earth. His adult life reflected his learnings at her side. He spoke regularly to the Blessed Mother. He shared his thoughts and fears with her. We know this because we witnessed it. We know this because in our times of need he sent us to her. We know this because we experienced his love for her in everything he did, without complaining, without wondering what was in it for him, without ever showing his own suffering. He is with his mothers now and we can be certain that they have already said a rosary or two for all of us.

The Teacher
He was a husband, father, grandfather, brother. Uncle, Mentor, lawyer and Friend, or perhaps like his father he was a teacher. I believe that the lesson our father leaves us is true to his nature, Simple, to the point and powerful. We are all ultimately known by God and remembered on Earth for BOTH our words and our actions. It is his understanding of how to use them in the right place and time that defines the beauty, power and love of this great man. This is how he managed to touch so many so deeply. Look down on us, watch over all your grandkids, help them tell the personal gospel of your life and enjoy all your heroes in heaven, We love you....Hang by your Thumbs. Don't take any wooden nickels.

My Father

2012-01-16T19:05:00.000-05:00

I feel like I have been thinking about writing this since I started writing this blog. I have touched on the subject of my Dad several times, even a few times lately, "On the Third Day of Christmas" but this is the real thing.

He has been having trouble with his hip for several years and has gotten worse and worse. I'm speaking of him as if he were still here, but he's not. I lost him today. Out of the blue. On MLK's birthday. He had been to church, done his bills and left them sitting on the counter for his later day errands, he put a steak in to marinate, it was delicious we ate it tonight, he even logged into Facebook to follow the threads of the family he created. He went to his physical therapist and collapsed. He never woke up and the doctors say he was gone by the time he hit the ground.

This is all so matter of fact. People die every day but today it was my father, so today I have to try and sum up in words some semblance of who this man was and what he meant to all of us.

My father was stoic, but with budweiser eyes. He was very learned but still got Blazing Saddles. My dad was quiet and reserved unless you messed around with one of his kids. He was a man of extreme faith. In fact he held regular debates with himself over why some particular saint was falling down on the job. He was fiercely loyal to the Blessed Mother and to those who represent her on Earth, my mother, my grand mother and her twin sister.

Sorry, that's as far as I got before the crushing pain of loss took over. After several days of thought, the final picture in words is here "Our Father Who Art in Heaven" .

This post is saved only to remind me of the initial blow and my early response.

All memories, whether good or bad make us who we are and without these I would not be me so I am glad to have made it this far and prayer for strength for the future.

And that makes me happy.

Words With Daughters

2012-01-13T06:38:00.002-05:00

Today I have just a quick Friday kind of note. Its like my equivalent to the general interest article on the front page of the Wall Street Journal. I can't tell you how many silly cocktail party conversations I have had over the years based on these stories. Today's article describes how little zebrafish share two thirds of their genes with humans and thus are great test subject for early testing of new medical treatments. The problem is they don't mate enough to produce the volume of host needed for research. Important topic, funny and entertaining approach.

So this morning I'm thinking about words. In particular 3 to 7 letter words like ACUMEN that use A's and U's and a W. You see I am entrenched in the latest App craze of "Words with Friends". For me though this is not some silly Alec Baldwin, cause a ruckus on a plane kind of thing. It is rather a new way to stay connected to my 3 girls. Each with an ipod or iphone, they introduced me to the game and with iPad in hand I am playing three games simultaneously and most importantly, asynchronously (that would be a great word if we had that many letters). I post words usually at six in the morning and again at seven or so at night. They post in the afternoon and after I've gone to bed. There's a chat so I can joke a little with them as well.

I love words but don't have the time or patience for the NYT crossword puzzle. My dad does that everyday and he is a wizard. I am not but I do like the brain tease of figuring out the best scrabble word with a P, two U's and a W. More importantly though I love connecting with my girls.

And that makes me happy.

Missing Music, Missing a Beat

2012-01-12T06:21:00.002-05:00

I have a problem with very short term memory. I can tell myself to do something and then quickly get distracted for just a second and that task is gone.

Such is the case with my ear buds. About three weeks ago I packed them into a brief case to take on a plane. When I got home I forgot to take them out. Sine I don't carry the bag everyday it went right to its storage spot in a closet downstairs. Today for the twentieth time in a row I am sitting on the bus without music. I feel like I'm having withdrawals.

I walk by this closet every day, both on my way up to my room and on my way out in the morning. I have reminded myself to get the ear buds more times than I can count but still no music.

This short term memory frazzled synapse hits me in other places as well. At work I am a list maker because I have a lot of ideas and people coming at me from all directions asking for input or follow up. The only way I have found to remember them all over the course of the day is to write them down. I once shopped around for a little digital voice recorder so that I could create reminders for myself even when I was without pen and paper. They were too expensive at the time but I bet now "there's an app for that". I will have to look into it.
When I am giving someone a ride to the bus or boat in the morning I put a bright orange sticky note on my wallet so that when I'm foggy at 5:15am I don't leave the person stranded. I put notes in my pockets at work to trigger activities at home and I send email to my work address for the reverse.

Memory is a very interesting thing. I can remember the faces and names of virtually every member of my work teams from my first job 25 years ago but I can't remember to grab a granola bar on my way out of the house in the morning (I get one out the night before and put it on the counter next to the door). I can remember verbatim conversations and exact dialogue from movies but if my attention gets distracted just as I am about to send an email I might never remember the note.

I continue to build in the little tricks and reminders into my life to keep me up on the little daily tasks and I use technology as a reminder tool. If I'm lucky I don't miss a beat on anything too important.
I think I will tie a string to my finger tonight because I need my music.

And that makes me happy.

Getting It Done Right Usually Takes a Team

2012-01-11T08:13:00.002-05:00

Unless you are talking about producing a piece of art or perhaps taking a shower, it seems to me that having a team approach to getting things done works best.

I have been doing a lot of things on my own so far in this job. There hasn't been much of a team around me to rely on and the ideas I am introducing are new so I need to educate before they can participate. I have been working hard on the few managers I have and believe I made a bit of a breakthrough yesterday with two of them.

Recently promoted, the head of my account management team is now very fired up. She is focused on putting in place new procedures and policies that promote our growth agenda. Equally she is looking at work flow and systems to better our productivity. Yesterday she brought a situation up that has been nagging me but has been a very low (no activity) priority given all the other things on the docket. Within 20 minutes we were able to compare our thoughts, seek out the others involved, create a game plan and get it underway. The key is that follow up will be monitored by her and the work spread across a few people rather than just me. Ah, leverage of the team!

On the same day, I pushed out one of the most important pieces I have developed, new compensation for this same account management team. I have been working hard to establish a good relationship with my head of sales in London but he often bristles at any request for information or seeming exertion of control. When he saw the work that went into compensation for his team I believe he was impressed. From this bit of credibility, we spoke in detail, he made some great suggestions (which forced me to do some more critical thinking on implementation), we made the changes, updated everything and will communicate a much better result to our team today. More leverage!

Two quick examples of the power of teams. Get them working well and they will produce out sized results. That's my game plan.

And that makes me happy.

Ugh, I Ate Too Much

2012-01-10T08:11:00.002-05:00

Off to a bit of a rocky start this week. There are just not enough hours and support at work is thin. I am changing a lot of people's comp all at once and I really want to get it right. I am also dealing with global time zones so if I miss an opportunity to have a dialogue, I lose a day.

I put together a good plan but as I am now implementing I find that I haven't had a second set of eyes and there are potential holes in bringing it on. Additionally, I thought our CEO was going to discuss comp for last year with individuals so now I am behind in talking about the new plan, which given the calendar will hit paychecks this Friday.

Roll all this up and I ended up working late, getting home late, stuffing my face with chili, walnut muffins made by D1 and D3, add in a slice or two of frozen pizza and a chunk of chocolate, oh by the way forget exercising and then I went to bed after a quick play session with puppy girl.

Here's to getting this big start of year push done so I can focus on actually delivering some sales!

I can always do better.

And that makes me happy.

Playoff Football and the Sunday Movie

2012-01-09T07:26:00.002-05:00

When we were kids a Sunday afternoon might often be spent watching whatever movie was on network TV. With just a handful of stations we didn't have the endless reality shows and celebrity watching drivel of today. We had Clint Eastwood, or John Wayne. We watched the "Guns of Navarone" or "The Dirty Dozen". There was the whole genre of "Kung Fu Theatre" and movies about sports like "Brian's Song".

When it was cold outside and football was over, this was a great way to spend a quiet afternoon with a brother or two. We would fry leftover spaghetti and wrap up in sleeping bags or blankets and just be together.

While I was fixated on the Giants playoff game yesterday I was pleasantly surprised to find my youngest pulled into a Sunday movie. Even better it was the Bourne Identity followed disappointingly by Bourne Ultimatum which is the third movie. She was really into it and so I found myself describing the plot from the books and filling in the big gap between the first and third installment of Matt Damon's remake (the originally movie was a made for TV thing, and yes we watched it one Sunday way back when). I was very much interested in watching the second playoff game but the more D3 wanted to watch the more I was pulled back to the couch to be with her.

The Giants won handily and Tim Tebow pulled off a tremendous over time win in that second game. With my iPad handy I kept track of the time and score so that I did see the game winning play live, but my Sunday afternoon was made special by the connection of the Sunday Movie. Now if we had only had some fried spaghetti, "Fong Kong house boy, where are you?". In the end it's being with the people you love that makes any day special.

And that makes me happy.

A Quick Look Back

2012-01-06T06:23:00.002-05:00

Yesterday morning I was on the bus heading in and decided to close my eyes for a bit. I don't think I slept more than a minute or two at a time but since I was nice and warm in The Old Man Coat, I just gave in and rested.

In the blink of an eye here I am this morning realizing that as a result of my attempt to nap I never posted here yesterday. Time is just moving that fast.

I find that when things are really busy it is easy to lose track of all the things you want to get done and all the things you have gotten done. This morning I was running through a comment that was stuck in my head and I literally counted off the 4 months in my job on my fingers. It seems I needed to visually prove to myself that it has been that short a time.

As I continue to think back over the four months (it is annual review time at my company after all, and I am also sitting here with the shock that B4, an executive in one of the largest investment banks was laid off yesterday) I am taking stock of all the things I have achieved. I won't bore you with the list but I'm quite proud of it. My question though is, Why do I still feel frustrated?

When I look back over my career there have been many times when I have achieved great things only to end up frustrated over something or another. I always seem to feel that I am not given the credit I deserve or that I lack respect for the intellect of the people I work for. Given my career track record I have to assume that this is my problem not there's. Also, given this job market I have to be exceedingly careful that frustration doesn't lead to visible discontent. The key is to remain mature. No one is perfect and as long as we are all seeking the same goals the ego should be held in check.

Don't get me wrong on this. I love my job and feel like I am making a huge difference. The point of this Quick Look Back is to remind me to stay focused on the things I can control and not the things I can't. Respect and stature come over long periods of time and only to those who perform. So that's what I am going to do.

And that makes me happy.

Strategic And Tactical

2012-01-05T07:44:00.000-05:00

January is a month for planning. It is also a month for executing. All fall we worked on our strategy for this new year and now it's time to communicate it out to the troops and get cracking. January is also a money month. In different times during my career I have either been handing out (or not) bonus dollars, and getting them, or talking about new salaries and plans for the coming year. Since I am relatively new with my team here this January is all about the upcoming year. I am however doing all of the performance reviews for the team myself so that I can get everyone fired up.

I have written new compensation plans for both our sales team and our account management team. I have reorganized the teams and am now planning on turning my focus more towards Asia and the team there. (That's a Strategic one).

If it seems like I am jumping around here, that's because I am. Over the last week or so I have been both implementing much of what I developed over the last few months and summarizing strategic initiatives for prioritization in this new year. Thus at one point I might be writing a review of someone's performance for 2011 and the next thing on my agenda is the written picture of our company in 2017. It's a definite challenge to keep it all straight, but I love it.

I took a look at my themes written at this time last year, and while there are some good ones in there, I was very focused on staying motivated despite my work enviornment. What a difference a year makes.

Looking forward into 2012 I still see great opportunity and I have to stay very focused on achieving goals so I am juggling the Strategic and the Tactical all the time. I have lot's of room for improvement on both fronts but I am excited about the prospects.

And that makes me happy.

It's Winter Now, It's Really Winter Now!

2012-01-04T09:17:00.001-05:00

I am having a lot of fun with D1 this Christmas break. Our relationship has really "re-blossomed" over the past year and we have spent some good quality time together these past few weeks. We worked together on our annual ginger bread house. She assisted me on my whirlwind Christmas shopping spree. We've watched a few movies together and spent a lot of time together playing with our new puppy. We have had so much success teaching little Sadie a few tricks that last night we huddled around the iPad and looked for funny Youtube videos of new things to teach her. We found "go to sleep" and "bang you're dead". I can't wait to try them out. And this Youtube phenomenon brings me to my point for today.

It's amazing how families develop their own language. It's kind of a cross between inside jokes and shared repetition of experience that the rest of the world would find dumb or at a minimum, decidedly not funny. No matter, within the family this dialogue, made up of one liners, movie quotes, adaptations of baby talk from the kids' toddler years, funny shared memories and increasingly YouTube videos that make the rounds.
Growing up in my family, it was all about Blazing Saddles, Caddy Shack and a substantial amount of bathroom humor (as my Mom used to call it) made up of fart jokes, imitation fart sounds and of course the occurrence of the real thing. I was reminded last night when I cracked a joke that almost had milk coming out of D3's nose, that nose flowing milk due to uncontrolled laughing was a regular occurrence at our dinner table. In fact dinner at our table of the five boys and my sister has always been as much about the entertainment as about the food. It is part of our family language and I love all of those memories.

Some time back D1 introduced a real winner to the language in our house and it has really taken hold. There are a series of commercials that have made their way to YouTube featuring one of the cutest, funniest kids you have ever seen. Here's the link to the video in question."It's Growin Now, it's really growin now" Note, the final two lines, "it's grown now, it's really grown now". Not funny to you, right? Well to us it is now part of our daily dialogue. "Is dinner ready?" "Ooh, it's ready now, it's really ready now!" "I'm hungry now, I'm really hungry now!". And so on.

As I make my way to work today I am thinking about my wonderful D1. I am loving my new memories with her, and chuckling about the one she would likely rather I forget (can you say New Year's Eve). I am happy for our family's shared language and the closeness it brings us.

When the doors open and I step out of the boat into the zero degree wind chill smacking me in the face, I just laugh and think, "It's winter now, it's Really winter now!"

And that makes me happy.

Keeping Score

2012-01-03T07:22:00.002-05:00

We live in a competitive world. Despite the trend by over indulgent parents to remove competition from children's sports (everyone gets a trophy), when those same kids join the real world (perhaps when they are 30 and have bankrupt those same parents by living at home post college and dumping student loans back on Mom and Dad) they will realize that their are definitely winners and losers in life.

Well maybe that's a bit too much social commentary to start the year, but as I watched the weekend's assortment of sporting events and I put my mind to my annual list of goals I was reminded of how important "Keeping Score" really is.

There are the minor wins of daily life to track. Did I get it all done today. Did I challenge myself and achieve something special. And then there are the bigger games. How is my health, family relationships, career? Did I get the promotion, raise, bonus? Did we push the company to new heights? How is our team? What innovations are we introducing to win business from our competition.

Ultimately for me the biggest game is, am I happy?

There is no way to know all these things unless you keep score. Just like the last minute field goal or overtime winning score, the milestones in life show us that we are progressing. Unlike sports games though the point totals aren't always so simple. In fact in order to keep score you often have to set the rules of the game yourself and develop your own score card.

About 20 years ago (holy cra@p) I was faced with a major turning point in life. I was married and finishing up business school but I was still plagued with the self doubt and lack of confidence and discipline to achieve advancement in life. I knew I wanted to be successful but I just didn't know how to get there. I had no scoreboard. (I also lacked the required tools but I will have to discuss this later).

One night Mary and I were watching TV and we stumbled upon one of the early infomercials at the time. It was a full half hour promoting Tony Robbins Personal Power. As said above, I will have to discuss the full story later because this program helped me mature as a person and change my life. For today's topic I will share that one of the challenges that comes out of the program is to create a list each year of goals. There are three categories and you give yourself three goals in each. Personal is the category for your own growth. These are the events, achievements and skills that make you a better person. For me one of the best was - Start reading 10 books a year. I think I picked this in the early nineties because I now have a long list of books read. The second category is Things. 2011 started with an iPad on this list and as I've stated here "iEnvy No More" we checked that one off! The final category is Financial. In this category I have both succeeded and failed but each year I come back with three more goals.

I have been making this list now for 20 years. It is a sort of scorecard for my life. It has seen me through some great times and some tough ones. I think my first Personal, Things and Financial goal in 2009 was - Get a Job. I never achieve all of the goals on this list and since it's set in the beginning of the year there are times when one or two become less relevant, but certainly I know when I'm winning and losing and the reminder is powerful.

This year, like all of them lately is a very important one. High stakes in the new job, college for two girls and continued personal growth and energy to match up against the challenges.
It's a short week so I am planning on reviewing the 2011 list and writing down the 2012 list this weekend. It's going to be a great year.

And that makes me happy.

Winding Down

2011-12-29T07:32:00.002-05:00

It's been a slow but productive week. On the two ends of the spectrum I have succeeded in teaching Sadie to sit and lie down and completed a dozen annual reviews for members of my team. As I look back over this week I am struck by how representative it has been. In my every day life I seek balance as a path to happiness.

At any given point the events of a day or the environment around us can dramatically influence how we feel. One of the reasons I write here is to force at least one block of time during my day to reflect, find good in my life and celebrate it by exploring in written words. This exercise is a key component to my daily experience of happiness. In this small window of focused time, usually early in the morning before the day has truly begun I seek the counter balance to all the difficult situations life throws at me.

This week began with the beauty of Christmas and the joy of family that it brings me. All too quickly this was replaced with the holiday week trudge to work. I was not anxious to make the commute knowing that many were home in bed, warm and content. Once at work, I faced up to the current challenge of providing individual constructive feedback to the team. Having lost the head of one of my departments I stepped in to do annual reviews myself. Definitely an arduous chore but when viewed from a perspective of change and growth, a real opportunity to impact the careers of young members of the team. (Hey, that makes me happy).

Continuing the week commuting alone, pushing through my exercises each night and getting my responsibilities accomplished, I have made it all the way to Thursday! Wow, for a short week, this sure is a long week. But there in lies the truth.

My life is made up on hundreds of little decisions made daily. Some I control (do a good job at something or mail it in), others I have less control over (the new puppy needs to go out in the middle of the night), the happiness and balance I seek this week, this year and every day comes from facing these decision from a place of good and positive attitude.

And so as I make my way in today, having rewarded myself by taking a later boat (yes the pup had to go out during my supposed extra hour of sleep, oh well), the sun is over the horizon sending its warming rays through the frosted window. I know what a need to accomplish today and that at the end of the day I will be home with the ones I love. Tomorrow is a day off to end this year of positive change in my life and I am looking forward to winding down before I spring on to the other side of the balance in the new year.

And that makes me happy.

Honor Your Father and Mother

2011-12-28T09:02:00.002-05:00

There's a note a while back about honoring someone by simply doing what they ask of you. It was the subject on a homily for the 8th grade CCD mass and provides one view into what honoring, (to regard or treat someone with admiration and respect), means. "Complain, Comply or Honor"

Yesterday, my Dad was on my mind and I think the memories shared honor one of his many points of influence on me www.johnrfitz.blogspot.com/2011/12/on-third-day-of-christmas.html. Continuing the Christmas week theme I spent the rest of the day thinking about my Mom, and Mary.

Mary's Mom came to visit this Christmas and while it was great to see her and have her with us on Christmas morning to be with all the girls, there is always tension when she comes. She has a way of getting under Mary's skin like no one I have ever seen. Perhaps it's because the mother and child relationship is the first and most enduring in our lives so when it goes wrong it is all the more difficult. I pray for both of them and as Mary suggested I will try to do more to support her in that relationship.

My Dad came from a small family. His Mom died when he was a young boy and so he and my Aunt (Godmother) were very much raised by their Grandmother (my Dad's Mom). I met her a bunch of times when I was little and never thought she was very nice. My guess, given the family history research I've done, is that she had a difficult life. She too lost her husband early in their marriage (though it's not clear to me yet how). My Grandfather was her pride and joy. I believe he honored her throughout his life.

Without the experience of a full family my Dad may have been looking for something different when he met up with my Mom. She is one of 9 children born to two of the most astoundingly happy and generous people I have ever met. My Grandfather and Grandmother were nucleus of a family dynamic so strong and loving that it has been documented in many public forums over the years including the best selling biography of Walter O'Malley, "Forever Blue". Most of what I know as Christmas, and family for that matter has it's roots in this larger than life clan.

My Mom is the third of the nine children and though she brought all things "family" to her marriage, we are all distinctly (enter Dad's Family Name). Something really wonderful happened as our family grew. My Mom was able to take the best parts of the clan and incorporate the dynamic of her pack of 5 sons into what is now an emotional mainstay in all of our lives.

But this is meant to be about Christmas, and I'm already getting long winded and running out of commute time.

Christmas is Our holiday. Since we established ourselves in the suburbs my parents hosted the big party at our house. Each year, in addition to creating unbelievable memories through thoughtful gifts on Christmas morning, my Mom would pick a theme for the family party that would honor something or someone special from that year. She got all of us involved to decorate the table and create a centerpiece based on the theme. She would make or buy ornaments for each family to put on their tree that celebrated that same theme. I think Mary and I still have over 20 of these. We could in fact decorate an entire tree with just the theme based ornaments.

True to her nature, in the midst of an overwhelming set of personalities and celebration, Mom was able to single out a thought, or person, or event and bring the magic of Christmas to life in a very personal way.
We continue this tradition now at B3's house and though it is just our clan now, the traditions and themes continue. We honor the teaching of my Mom in this and many other aspects of our daily life. To say she has been an influence is a shameful understatement. To say she is one of the brightest stars in our sky might get a little closer to the truth.

She is the best, no problem.

And that makes me happy.

On the Third Day of Christmas

2011-12-27T06:45:00.002-05:00

I am off to work. I should have taken a later boat. Oh well. It should be an easy week, though I have a lot to do.

Thinking back over the weekend, there are a lot of themes in my head but the one that stuck with me throughout the celebration was a flash at Christmas Eve mass.

We were lucky to have our favorite priest as the celebrant and as usual he didn't disappoint. He gave a great talk about the continuation of life. Jesus became man, humbling himself so that we could have a chance to join him and continue our lives in heaven. Its was wonderfully presented, touching on themes of sacrifice, "ghosts" of loved ones, belief in miracles, and of course reference to the Giants trouncing of the Jets earlier in the day. All this filled me up but it was those words before the homily that got me.

"A reading of the Gospel according to Luke, In those days....".

I was immediately transported to one of three living rooms. First in Manhattan in an apartment in Stuyvesant town. Then to our first home in the suburbs, three bedrooms and 7 people before we moved. And finally to our "big house" with the tree in the connected room. I am standing at my Dad's side, or sitting on the floor and later on a couch with a little brother or sister on my lap. My Dad is reading from a little black leather Bible. Always Luke. I'm not sure why, perhaps he is the only one that provides details. I will have to check. He's reading us the Gospel. He's pulling us back from all the excitement of Christmas Eve. We may have been to mass, or perhaps if I was 11 or 12, my brother and I would be heading to midnight mass with him. We certainly were full of Santa Claus and sugar plums but he brought us back. And though he was wise enough to end with "Twas the Night Before Christmas", he began with that story. A better story than most I have ever heard. Improbable, untraceable, and yet world changing. And it made him cry, every year.

We have an expression that comes from years of watching this great man. If you well up inside watching something moving you are said to have "Budweiser Eyes". The origin is likely one of the famous Clydesdale commercials from the iconic beer company during a football game or family mini-series, or perhaps some kind of Christmas special. We would have all been in our den watching the TV (eight of us) and the strong man in the crowd was blubbering. Very emotional for all of us to see him this way and yet the memory is likely locked in do to some wise crack by one of us making fun of him for crying over a beer commercial.

As I heard Father John speak those words, "in those days Caesar Augustus issued and edict..." I thought of the gift I have been given by my Dad. Despite the thousands of thankless hours my Mom spent each year preparing for the big day (perhaps more on this tomorrow), my Christmas Eve memory remains with him.

I must remember to put more of my Father into these pages. They say I look most like him and it's true. I can only hope that I carry as much wisdom and love into my daily life as he does. I am better for having him lock in the true Christmas message into my heart.

And that makes me happy.

Merry Christmas

2011-12-24T22:47:00.002-05:00

The Greater became lesser, so that the lesser could become greater.

Speak Your Mind, but Be Polite, Please.

2011-12-23T06:26:00.002-05:00

Yesterday the whirlwind continued. I ended up finishing my post on my ride home, then headed directly to dinner with the family at a local restaurant so got home at 9 or so. I'm right back at it this morning. Haven't been able to exercise in three days and won't get to today either, ugh!

It's my Mom's birthday and par for the course this week I am completely over booked. Well, spirits are high and we're almost there so I'm feeling pretty good.

I'm also feeling good as I head in to work. One of the many things I need to do today is sit down with my CEO and review the strategy meeting we had yesterday. During the meeting I think my passion got the better of me and so early on I was pretty vocal about some of the company's failings. CEO sensed this and so we chatted afterwards. I suppose it's a bit risky to speak your mind in this kind of job market. I don't even want to think about all the entries stored here that address that topic from the last year of my life, but in the end if I'm not pushing I'm not making a difference or having an impact.

I believe in certain things, setting goals, passionate effort towards those goals, and consistent accountability to name a few. It struck me in the meeting that the Strategy points were more current events rather than an accumulation of our team's thoughts since our first session to determine near and long term goals back in September. For all the passion I displayed (again perhaps a bit too much) during the meeting on the points of failure it didn't seem to me that we ended up focused on the right things. And so, as we sat after the meeting and CEO probed on my apparent frustration, I was COMPLETELY honest with him.

I was frustrated in myself for preaching too much and thus held my tongue for most of the rest of the meeting. That's mostly what you saw, but also, "I'm not sure this plan is consistent with our earlier work, and frankly you aren't being aggressive enough with it, or us". There I said it. I criticized my boss. The thing is though, rather than the passionate preaching method used in the meeting I presented these thoughts deferentially, logically, and factually. I gave guidance from below suggesting ways to get more from his team. We ended up having one of the best discussions since we've worked together these 4 months or so, and are due to reflect again on strategy together today. We both spoke our minds, were conscious of the other person and held the greater good as our guide and goal and of course we were polite.

And that makes me happy.

The Home Stretch

2011-12-22T17:46:00.002-05:00

This week there seems to be a theme in my writings. It's all about movement. Movement through time to be specific. Yes, I have been in 4 states in three days and logged a couple hundred miles on my car and in the air, so there has been plenty of physical movement as well. The movement through time though reminds me that we also need to set aside time to rest.

This year for the first time in about a decade I will be working during the Christmas week. In so doing I have not set my brain on that normal trajectory towards a vacation week. I am chugging along knowing that I will be in the city next Tuesday rather than in my pajamas. I am working very hard in this new job to establish myself and make an early impact on the organization and our future prospects. Thus I am spending the bulk of my time on the subject of work. Today is no different than the rest of this week. Too much to do and not enough time. But I am in the home stretch to my favorite holiday and I have to switch gears somehow.

Case in point, I am now finishing this post on my way home after running out of the office so I'll be in time for a dinner reservation. I left several big things undone. Ugh! On the plus side I made my first purchase for Mary and I think she will like it.

The clock is ticking and I'm still kicking. I look forward to a quiet minute or two over the break and then right back at it.

And that makes me happy.

Short Turn Around Time

2011-12-21T07:48:00.002-05:00

Continuing the Mad Dash today. You know you are burning the candle on both ends when the Radio anchor person from the drive home last night is still on the air when you hit the road the next morning. I think I was home for a little less than 5 hours.

That's a short turn around. I don't mind it though. In fact I think short turn arounds are a very good thing. I'm not really talking about sleep deprivation here, but rather the practice of getting things done quickly.

I have always been a procrastinator "Get it All Done" but I have structured and trained myself to follow through and get things done. This was a hard fought and difficult transition for me but one of the most important self improvements I've made as an adult.

One of the key components of this strategy is to avoid inertia build up. When something is going to be difficult, do it now, do it quickly. Create the shortest turn around on the decision, work effort, or undesirable activity as possible. Monday's duty was a good example. Putting off the inevitable would have served no one and just prolonged a difficult situation.

Grabbing hold of your agenda and prioritizing the difficult stuff to the top of the list insures that you will not spend time agonizing over them.

Turn it around. Bang it out. Get it done. That's what I say.

And that makes me happy.

It's Gonna be a Mad Dash

2011-12-20T09:33:00.003-05:00

I'm on the train from O'Hare to The Loop. Up at 4 today to make a 9:00AM meeting on Michigan Ave. In Chicago. One of seven today. Will be home at about 10:45 tonight and turn around for a 6:30 AM flight to Boston tomorrow.

With the events of yesterday occupying my brain for most of the weekend and the new pup and Mary working, I haven't bought a single present. I helped out on the pup and on computer for D1 but nothing else.

My schedule is pushing me to one of those killer shopping sprees. Did I write about this last year? I think I did but will have to find the link another time. ---Found it: "The only kind of shopping I like"

My heart is pumping. The stage is set. Five days to go.

It's gonna be a Mad Dash!

And that makes me happy.

Short But Not Sweet

2011-12-19T06:36:00.002-05:00

Today is going to have a rough start. After living through the winter, spring and summer of 2009 unemployed myself I have to send a man my own age to a similar potential fate. I hope he fares better than I did in quickly finding his next role.

My heart goes out to him. My head confirms that I am doing the right thing for the other 150 people in the company that rely on sales people being successful.

I will try to be as human and understanding as I can and keep it short. Painful things should be short so that healing can begin.

I will keep it short if not at all sweet.

And perhaps that will help me be happy.

Coke and Diet Coke

2011-12-16T07:34:00.002-05:00

As part of Coca-Cola's annual holiday promotions they are packaging the original, world's best, perfectly balanced and flavored soft drink in a white can to promote awareness for the shrinking habitat of the Polar Bear. For many years now the polar bear has been an important character in Coke's marketing at Christmas time. I think it's a good thing, even if done for corporate reasons, that a company so big should focus on something so small. The world needs the beauty and majesty of the polar bear as a reminder of the perfection of adaptation regardless of species size or environment. They are vicious, but beautiful creatures. That's my opinion anyway.

I was in a bit of a hurry picking up lunch yesterday to get back for our mid day Thursday executive team meeting and quickly grabbed a can of soda to go along with my sandwich. Of course, unknowingly, I grabbed the white Coke can instead of the slightly different standard silver colored can of my now normal Diet Coke. I made it back in time for the start of the meeting, cracked open the can and pow! As I took the first sip the rush of the best drink ever triggered memories of childhood, early adulthood and the sacrifice I made about a decade ago in response to an ever increasing waistline.

If you couldn't tell by now I love Coca-Cola. The Original. Not Pepsi or any other cola. Not the New Coke when it existed. Not even Coke Zero, which is a reasonable substitute if hard to find in a regular deli fridge. I have come to accept Diet Coke and now prefer it to any other diet soda, but my love for the original formula.
My Mom was a Coke drinker. In fact I don't think she ever switched. I think she has cut way back but if she now drinks soda I'm certain it's still the good stuff. There were times as a kid when Mom would allow a "Fake Off" from school. Those were the days when you didn't feel great, or stayed up too late, or just were a bit burnt out from the rigors of grammar school. A Fake Off recognized the value of slowing down, taking a breather and creating opportunities for one on one time. I think it was genius and absolutely deserved a name.

You would be woken up as usual for school but as you lingered in bed complaining of whatever was ailing you the decision would be made, "ok, go back to sleep". Jealousy would immediately erupt. "How come he gets to skip school. He's not sick!". Nonetheless, you turned over, blocked out the noise and returned to dream land. Later when you woke, fully rested and as predicted by the name, not really sick at all, Mom would suggest grabbing sandwiches, potato chips and Coke from the butcher and heading someplace nice for lunch. In the dead of winter we liked to park at the end of a long peninsula street and feel the sun coming over the river through the windshield of the car to warm us.

Coke was also always a staple during Sunday football. When we were young my Dad went to most home Giants games and we would watch on TV with my Mom. Every Sunday she would make fresh popcorn and we would fill giant (for the 70's anyway) 22 or so ounce glasses with ice and Coke.
When I first started working and adjusting to the early morning wake up for work I began drinking Coke instead of the coffee which most adults used as their kick start. I never acquired a taste and so instead I would put back something like 3 or 4 cans of Coke over the course of the day. The company paid for lunch in those days so that was an easy 2 right there.

After I hit 40 the inevitable slowing of metabolism mixed with 15 or so years of minimal exercise to make the daily intake (no longer 4 a day but still a staple) of my favorite drink a non-starter. As part of a weight loss competition in my company I went cold turkey and made the switch to Diet Coke. It was rough. I didn't like the taste or aftertaste, but I stuck with it.

It was likely two or so years later that I finally felt used to the new normal of Diet Coke, but to this day, including yesterday I am still moved by the great taste of the original.

So, as I gratefully downed my mistake knowing full well that it would require a few extra sit ups and box jumps I had that wonderful flash back experience.

And that makes me happy.

I Said What I Meant, and I Meant What I Said

2011-12-15T06:03:00.002-05:00

I thought it would be worth following up on the note I wrote yesterday. I had a particular situation in my mind as I wrote yesterday's entry and I find today, as I review the conversation in my head, that it went rather well.

As expected, the person denied any intention to confront but in the end I was able to deliver my message, create some shared expectations and end the discussion on a positive note.

I don't ultimately know I got the buy in I was looking for but I am certain I set the tone for future conversations. I asked the person to review their communications from my perspective and to be objective about tone and intent. In describing my impressions I pointed out the places where I thought a different approach would have been more effective. This person is intellectual and I think I provided some good food for thought.

I was a bit unsure on how to handle the situation, as described in the earlier note "When to Push....", but I'm glad I didn't just let it pass. I'm also glad I kept my ego in check and stayed factual while communicating my expectations. Did it sink in? Will it make a difference? As they says in sports, "That's why they play the game". I am hopeful that this interaction furthers my relationship with this important member of my team. Either way, I am confident that I made the right choice on how to communicate.

And that makes me happy.

When to Push, When to be Patient

2011-12-14T06:22:00.002-05:00

If you believe in yourself, have self confidence and are in a leadership role there are times when you need to react directly and swiftly to demonstrate your leadership. Other times I believe you have to balance the consistency of rank and file with the maturity of restraint. In other words some time you have to get in people's faces to tow the line and other time you should just let the little things go, take the higher ground and not let immature actions bother you.

For me this is a difficult task. I often wonder if great leaders struggle to find the right balance as well. I never read about this challenge being addressed. Mostly what I read is that great leaders are unbending and of single minded commitment to the goals "they know to be right".

My question is how do they know they are right? Also, where do they draw the line between keeping the ship straight in the water and developing respect through benevolence.

This is a curious and difficult topic for me. I feel like as a young executive I may have been too blunt with people. I was very successful but it didn't last. As I have aged, and had my fortunes change, I have become much less confrontational and have seen the value of "live and let live". But in my observation the organizations that are not managed by people with very high standards and expectations for employees are the ones that under perform.

So I say, in which situations should I bend? When is it ok to allow a team member or subordinate to confront you with either direct or passive aggression? Perhaps the answer is always because ultimately if my ideas are right and I get most people to buy in then we succeed. Or perhaps the answer is never as I need to demonstrate that unbending will driving us to success.

As you can tell from the hodge podge here I don't know the answer. I am beginning to trust my decisions again in greater reaches as I am seeing the results of my efforts so I guess all I can do is make the decisions as they come, be fair and honest with myself about ego vs. right, and continue pushing for better communication all around. Having a this game plan hopefully reduces the stress of the decisions.

And that makes me happy.

I Looked Everywhere for This Hat

2011-12-13T07:32:00.002-05:00

Going bald is no fun. It's no fun at all. Sunburn, bad hair, and rain all take on new meanings. I distinctly remember the first time I heard and felt the Thwack of a big rain drop right in the middle of my unprotected dome. Crossing Market Street in Philadelphia I turned to my companion and said, "You know I don't ever see myself getting used to that".

The worst however is the cold of Winter on the exposed heat loss machine. Little did I know when I had an abundance that most of my sweat and cooling mechanism was through the pores on top. When this window is open in Winter it delivers the arctic breezes directly to my brain and soul.
Thus in about 2007 I started looking for a hat.

Let me just say right off that I am not a hat person. I have many baseball hats collected over the years, a ski hat which gets worn in major snow storms around the house and when I ski (every 5 years or so), I also have an Australian Cricket hat given to me by B4 after his honeymoon there. It has a very wide brim which comes in handy when it's raining and I have to clean out a gutter on the back roof. The brim it wide enough to keep the water from running down my back. That's really it though.

When I realized that the time had come to cover up on top on a regular basis, going to and from work, I was faced with more than just function. I was going to also have to make a fashion decision.

I have very specific notions about clothes. I guess everyone does, but I seem to be much more picky than most. I don't like tags or labels that are now ubiquitous as every singer, actor, personality comes out with their own line of clothing. I am not a billboard. I like classic clothes and would rather have very high quality fabric over the latest style. I do not follow trends, yet many of my classic choices have come back into style several times over the years.

Hats have always been a category unto themselves. When I think about guys that wear them I always come up with the picture of the dandy guy with lots of accessories, a vest and cane or umbrella. I am certainly not that guy. No, my hat was going to have to fit my Everyman personality. So I searched. Nothing looked or felt right. By the Winter of 2008 I knew I had to decide on something, my head was really cold. And then it hit me. We were planning a February trip to Ireland and as I have mentioned here many times, I associate myself strongly with my Irish heritage. It seemed natural then that I should bow to my age and model my hat selection on all those every day older gents in the country I love so much.

So it was that in Adare, County Limerick, not 10 miles from where my ancestors began their trek to the U.S. I found my Irish Flat Hat. It took me over a year to find but it was well worth the wait.
Standing in the line waiting for the bus as the mornings begin to finally express the season, my head is warm. I am in character and my day is off to a good start.

And that makes me happy.

Shady Sadie

2011-12-12T07:49:00.000-05:00

Mary and I have been talking about it since last Christmas. We lost Finnegan a little over two years ago and while it has been nice having no boarding worries when travel, I have missed that wagging tail. But is that reason enough? Last Christmas D2 told us that all she wanted was a new dog. We listened, but decided against. It did not go over well on Christmas morning. But is that disappointment enough? Puppies are always a welcome addition to any social group. They are cute and cuddly and stir all those wonderful caring instincts in all of us. But is that enough?

Ultimately, I believe there is no "perfect" time to bring a new member into your family. The girls are getting older and heading off to college. Their time is spoken for more often than not. Mary will hopefully be spending more time out of the house if she continues on in retail post the holidays. My schedule is getting more complicated rather than less and I expect that I will be traveling more in the new year. In the end families make things work. No perfect, just the best we can do.

We have space in our hearts and in our home for a companion. D3 deserves the same kind of growing relationship with a little friend as the older girls had. I would love to have a new companion to "walk the grounds" with me just like Finny used to. She would accompany me around our house while I did my many chores. Sometimes bugging me for attention, others just sitting near me in the sun or shade depending on the season.

We are also in a position to make a difference in one small dog's life. Unlike Fin, this time we will adopt our little Sadie from the SPCA. Calling it a maturing of our attitudes, or just a realization that it doesn't matter what she looks like. What matters is that she needs a home. This we can do. This is enough.

Yesterday, the girls and I, D2 & D3 that is, (Mary at work and D1 not home yet) visited the local SPCA and spent about an hour and a half talking to, playing with and ultimately deciding on adopting a new puppy. I wish we could adopt them all but we will do our part. We think we will call her Sadie. I was immediately reminded of the song "Hot Lunch" from the movie Fame. D2 came up with the name which D3 dutifully researched and reported comes from Sarah (the puppy's temporary name at SPCA). Sadie supposedly also means princess in its origin, which seems fitting for the fifth and youngest girl in our house full of women. She comes to us tomorrow, just 8 weeks old and right after she is spayed. A new baby in the house.

And that makes me happy.

Marathon Man

2011-12-09T06:31:00.002-05:00

Yesterday morning I woke in San Fran at my normal east coast time. I did my best to go back to sleep but was up for the day at 4AM.

My run along the Embarcadero was great and the day was filled with client meetings all over town. From the Presidio down to the Piers we walked and cabbed it from stop to stop. In all we saw about 15 people at 8 different firms.

We had an early dinner in Chinatown and then headed to the airport. Our meetings ran late enough to push us past the last "same day" flight so we we're booked on the Red Eye to come home. I took advantage of the time in the airport though. With the time change I was able to speak with Hong Kong during their business day so I got updates and worked through a few account plans with our team there.

After a good long stretch of time I got on the jam packed over night flight. I don't sleep well on planes to begin with and coach seats, when the flight is full, are no bargain. I had been awake for 19 hours so even though it was choppy I feel like I slept at least a few hours off and on.

Off the plane and into my car to head directly into the city. Quick stop, using a day pass, at a midtown health club for a short work out, shave and shower and I was in my first meeting of the day by 8:30.

I finished my day driving home at 9:30Pm after another full day of sales prospect meetings, internal account reviews and our annual holiday party. Windows open in the car despite the 40 degree weather kept me nice and alert for the final stretch of this marathon two day run.

I hit my own pillow like a ton of bricks and here I am Friday morning finishing up this note which I started some time early on thursday, somewhere in San Fran. I'm thinking tonight will be a night for a fire and an early bed time.

And that makes me happy.

The Streets of San Francisco

2011-12-07T09:45:00.002-05:00

I used to love the car chase scenes that seemed to happen in every episode of the 1970's cop show, The Streets of San Francisco. Karl Malden and Michael Douglas we always chasing the bad guys using their best detective work, but it always seemed to end up with big old cars leaping over the cross streets at high speed.

The chases were great. Barely ever up the hills they seemed to find every down hill stretch in the city. One by one the bad guys and then the detectives and finally the black and whites would race down a hill only to hit the flattened out section of a cross street and Bam, they were airborne. Watching them in succession was like watching a yo-yo or boat bobbing out on the water.

As I ran along the Embarcadero this morning and looked up into those hills I remembered sitting around with family watching this and other shows of the era. Good family times.

And that makes me happy.

Heading West

2011-12-06T09:08:00.001-05:00

I am heading to San Francisco for a whirlwind day and a half in one of my favorite cities. It's interesting to me how places are an hors for memories. I saw Elvis Costello once in an elevator in San Francisco. We were attending a fancy wedding for one of Mary's closest friends and Elvis was staying in the same hotel.

I also remember visiting San Fran when I was about 12. My dad had a business trip and fo some reason he decided to take me with him. I will have to ask him why he did that. It strikes me as odd since I am one of 6 children and we pretty much did everything as a family. Add to this that we are talking about a cross country trip, not just a drive down the highway. We stayed downtown, had dinner at a restaurant at the top of one of the skyscrapers. I remember looking out at the Transamerica Title building. I wonder if it's still called that.

While my dad went to his meetings I was allowed to wander around the city. I walked everywhere. I think the cable cars we on strike so I missed that experience but it is likely one of the reasons I wanted to get back to SF as an adult. We hit all the tourist spots and had a great time. To this day we crack up every time we think of rutabagas. That was the meal on the flight out there. I may still have the menu tucked away in a special place. Rutabaga stew. How rude.

This trip will likely show me the inside of a lot of office space rather than the sites of the city, but they will all be there in windows of cabs or out the window of a hotel room. If we are lucky there will be some time tonight to walk around a bit and perhaps I will be able to get a run in down by Fisherman's Wharf where my hotel is. Regardless of the reason for my visit, I enjoy being in the city of hills.

And that makes me happy.

It's a Wonderful Life

2011-12-05T06:24:00.003-05:00

Cliche, yes I know, but wait I have point to make here. Read on.

This weekend brought the first full schedule for Mary at her new job in retail. It was also the Fall play weekend at the high school with D2 playing a lead supporting role in three performances of Frank Capra's classic Christmas story. While we all chipped in to make the weekend work and celebrated another theatrical achievement by D2, I was reminded of exactly where I started with this diary.

You see it IS a wonderful life. Not because of the things we have or can buy. Not because of the nice house or cars. Not even fancy clothes or vacations. No, it's a wonderful life because of the people around us and the love and care we show for each other. When I take the time to stop and look around I am truly amazed at the wonderful experiences of my daily life and the more I am reminded that I have everything I need, rather than everything I want "What we Need..", the happier I am.

Mary was in charge of all the refreshments at each show. She made cookies, packed bags of penny candy, dealt with all the over engineered drama that accompanies just about every student activity these days, made coffee, donated tea, decorated and staffed the cafe and did it for all three shows, despite working a full shift on Saturday and a double on Sunday.

The show was attended by aunts, uncles, sisters, cousins, grandparents and friends all showing support. I barely got a seat for the Sunday show. In all a great community turn out and a reminder that the world is actually a pretty small place in every day life. While we need to be aware of the bigger picture, it's often the things that happen and people closest to us that make up life and happiness.

The local high school performance may have lacked some of Jimmy Stewart's conviction in telling the tale, but there was no mistaking the message. Be thankful for what you have. Don't despair over what you want "Compare and Despair". A life lived for others is the best life of all. And perhaps most important to me, never lose sight of the people you love and importance of your love to them.

On Monday morning we are back at our daily grinds. There is homework to catch up on, final preparation for a business trip and that Christmas tree never did get fully decorated. But with "Buffalo Gals" bouncing around in my head this morning, I am definitely believing that it is a wonderful life.

And that makes me happy.

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like......

2011-12-02T06:33:00.002-05:00

Ok, here we go. This morning it is finally below freezing. We have had a very mild fall which has been nice but as I started to see the early Christmas decorations in stores late in October and well before Thanksgiving in most places I felt a bit like Charlie Brown. If you remember his famous rants against the commercialization of the holiday you will know about how I felt.

I was tickled one day when Mary came home and announced that she had seen the best sign in the window of Nordstrom's. We like that store. Pacific North West, good Seattle common sense approach to the shopping experience and very good customer service. I am also a big fan of the live piano player as I sit patiently waiting for my girls to shop. I remember the first time I was in a Nordstrom store. It was in Portland, OR, Mary's home town. We were out visiting the family and had some time to kill. The store chain had not made it to the East coast so there approach was a very new concept to me, and I loved it. Mary's dad regaled us with stories of returns, follow up calls when items came into stock, and suggestions of lower priced items that represented better values. And then there was the shoe shine guy. Back then Mary and I were both cowboy boot devotees and we spent a god half hour talking to the nicest man, who couldn't be happier standing in the lobby of the store "shinen' 'em up". It's really unfortunate that you don't see this kind of care in more retail situations. In fact it's a shame that more people in general don't maintain a happy and willing to help attitude in their daily lives. Anyway, back to our story. The sign Mary described to me, after seeing it herself a few days prior to Thanksgiving was reported to have read, "We prefer to celebrate our holidays one at a time, Happy Thanksgiving".

With a chuckle I thought, "I love those Nordstrom folks", and proceeded to enjoy our Thanksgiving holiday. Now I am ready. Now the time is right, and finally the weather is beginning to swing in the right direction. Soon the thought of hot chocolate and snow will be recurring themes. The decorations and piped in Christmas music will have context. The walk across mid-town will definitely include the detour past the tree and my stops in St. Pat's will track our Advent calendar. I hear they have a Golden Retriever in the manger scene this year. My Finny will be smiling in dog heaven I'm sure.

None of the difficulties and distractions described lately have, or will be going away any time soon, but in this season of hope, when all things are made new, my spirits will rise.

Today is my sister's birthday. My father's father, whom I never met would have been 100 yesterday. We had 47 burps yesterday for B3's birthday and 37 today for sis.

The high school fall play production goes on tonight with D2 and my niece (Goddaughter) in the cast. The play is "it's a Wonderful Life", and from where I sit it certainly is.

And that makes me happy.

...And the Stars In the Sky

2011-12-01T06:42:00.004-05:00

It's a long week. Yesterday was a bit of a long day but I got a second wind and was energized ny several interviews with sales people. I am likely to add two people which will hopefully set us up for a strong pipeline as we enter the new year.

I also powered through the post commute lethargy at 7:45 to get a good sweat going in the garage. I still have a lot of worry and sadness over D2. I wish I could break through with her.

Yesterday morning in the midst of all this I was at a loss for inspiration "Looking for Inspiration". It's amazing the difference a day can make. Today, it is still very dark as I make my way to work. We are 20 days from the Winter Solstice, the shortest, darkest day, but sticking with my commitment yesterday to be open to inspiration around me I was rewarded.

After a week or so of very unseasonably warm days, this morning is a cold and crystal clear start to December. (My brother's birthday by the way. B3). Pulling out of the neighborhood as I headed for the bus I looked both ways and then my eye was attracted to the brightness above. The pitch black pre-dawn sky was the perfect backdrop for an amazing array of stars.

My love of the night sky goes way back. It's start lives somewhere in the same time as those road trips and nights in our first suburban house "Chasing Cars". I must have been given a northern sky constellation chart as I have memories of looking at them all with the overlay of connect-the-dots outlines of the pictures they form. My favorite has always been Orion, the hunter. Three stars across for his belt. Three down for his sword. Four stars in the corners complete the abstract. From Orion you can look across the northern sky to find the dippers, Ursa Major and Minor. I like to think of them as the bears, mother leading cub across the sky.

The stars are of course infinite on a night like this. I am reminded of nights in Vermont far from the glow of any city and the depth and breadth of the night sky in the mountains.

Why the stars are there I may never know, or I might. Until then I will enjoy the show.

Adele, "Sometimes it Lasts in Love" is playing as the Eastern sky is rimmed at the horizon in bright orange fading to the early bird's egg blue morning sky. It reminds me of Brown Edge cookies of my childhood. I'm sending my love to D2 sleeping at home. The sun will be up within the hour but in this transition the silhouette of the city skyline is a comparable beauty to the dark black nights of James Taylor's song describing the moon, ......and the stars in the sky. Now that was inspirational.

And that makes me happy.
ps. As if to confirm the importance of my pre-dawn todawn show in the sky, as I cross 48th Street, just before I enter my building, the curvature of Manhattan combines with the street grid layout and the exact time of day and year to produce a glaring light to my right. The sun has indeed come over the horizon and on this day it picked a path straight across 48th Street into my soul. It is a blinding orange semi circle rising out of the pavement, in the center of the street reminding me that the Lord will watch over me and my not so little girl. Thanks God.

Looking For Inspiration

2011-11-30T08:23:00.000-05:00

I have been at this journal now for over a year. Producing it has been both enjoyable and educational as I have been forced to stop and think, if only for a few minutes on the ideas and influences that drive me forward through time. There are posts that make me proud when I read them and others that make me chuckle. I like trying to come up with interesting, catchy or double meaning titles. I learned this from a recent coworker who puts out a daily investment piece that resembles a blog.

There are many, many posts though that are incomplete thoughts or poorly constructed descriptions of my feelings. Often I don't have time to proof read or reveiw my texts to see if I have even accurately captured what was in my brain at the time of the idea's creation. I'm positive that if anyone ever sat down to edit these pages they would end up with a scarce few with much value. Lucky for me that is not my intent. Rather I seek an opportunity to reflect each day on the past twenty four hours, or some consistent idea. My inspirations are as simple as the sun rise and as complex as my relationship with myself.

Today, as you might imagine by the rambling nature of this post, I was at a loss for inspiration. There is definitely a lot going on in my world right now but nothing really sticks out. I have written about the current parenting challenge. I have written about current hard choices and managerial decisions at work. These are the every day components of my life. While there is often inspiration to be found in the people and environment around me, I am also at times at a loss. Eventually something comes to me, whether important and worthy of a post or not is questionable.

So as I ramble through a likely forgettable post, I am reminded to look deeper for inspiration in my world. There is so much around me to see and hear that perhaps I just need to keep my eyes and ears open. I'll do just that today and be right back here tomorrow morning on my bus ride in.

And that makes me happy.

Tough Love

2011-11-29T06:12:00.002-05:00

Yesterday started as an ordinary Monday. There was that now too often blow up with D2 on Sunday but I'm used to these by now. Little did I know how rapidly this episode would escalate.

I know teenagers don't tell the truth, I didn't. There is a need at the age to create space, control our world and develop a lasting independence from our parents. So it is with this perspective that I have tried to engage with my second child. She is a manipulator. She is smart. She is confident. She is headstrong. She is beautiful and popular and....

She doesn't tell the truth.

I have always felt that deep down she knows right from wrong and that if faced with a true moral dilemma or one of the very difficult choices that all teens have to make that she would do what is right. Unfortunately for Mary and me, this underlying trust was shattered as the details behind the most recent "incident" unfolded.

Increasingly bold, disrespectful and remorseless, her antics have pushed us to breaking points on several occasions but we have always forgiven. We have always returned to normalcy and as you can expect been burned again. This time unfortunately it's different and I am heart broken. The details don't matter, but that last thread of trust has snapped and we are left with deep hurt and an unbounded sense of failure.

It is my nature to forgive but also to remember. The next few months could well determine drastically different life paths for my little girl. We have very tough days ahead and I pray that we are strong and smart and able to break through to her. No matter how little intellectual evidence there is for change in her, I need to believe that the Holy Spirit will touch her now with the grace to change.

I don't think permanent life damage has been done, but I likely still don't know the whole truth behind her deceptive life. If we are lucky we can still heal our relationship with her and use this crisis as the basis for a mature adult relationship with her. I want to believe this. I need to believe this. And I hope for better days for and with her.

Because that will make me happy.

Rivalry

2011-11-28T08:07:00.001-05:00

This past weekend brought lots of food, too much in the form of pie, lots of movie watching, visits with friends and a ton of football. In addition to the normal slate of pro games, this Saturday was Rivalry Saturday.

Traditionally the last week of the regular college season, Rivalry Saturday brings together those long standing grudge match teams often deciding nothing more than bragging rights for the coming year.

We have been playing American Football in our colleges since about 1880. Earlier forms of the game that didn't include Walter Camp's rules for line of scrimmage and distance and downs were played for years earlier. Thus as we solidly enter the second decade of our current millennium, we have rivalries approaching 140 years old. That's a long time to hold a grudge.

Not many of the games were close, as in many historic comparisons one side eventually develops an overwhelming lead. Since many of these games I tuned in on were one sided it got me thinking. Why does the lesser team keep fighting on? How is it that they can maintain the "We'll get em next year" mentality, especially given the transient nature of college. (4 years and out).

We all have motivating drivers that push us on. I've probably mentioned many of the things that push me in my notes here but I don't think I have talked through rivalry. In business it seems that rivalry is usually most experienced between companies. I have felt it though on a personal level when I was a divisional president in a big company. In that setting there was a bit of the "who gets the next big job promotion" mentality. Mostly though, inside the companies I have worked for there has a been more of a sense of team work rather than rivalry.

It is powerful though when present and as I think it through, while not always in the forefront, there has been an element of rivalry in just about everything I have done. Certainly I have experienced sibling rivalry, I have 5 of them so that's natural I suppose. In sports, I always wanted to be the best and challenged myself based on the achievements of other good players. My teams also have had rivals and many of my armchair quarterback stories dating from my "glory days" come from the epic wins over these teams. In fact as I write this I'm thinking that much of what makes up the desire to win when it counts comes from experiences in which I have taken on rivals and come out on top.

I have an old video recording of one of my high school hockey games. The game was broadcast live on a local cable channel and so we were able to get a copy from the station. Our team won the game over one of our much better rivals after I scored a tieing goal and set up the game winner. My friend and I were interviewed after the game and it's funny to watch now and hear the excitement in our voices. Along with the thrill of being on TV, we had toppled a much better team. We were winners and it felt good.

I like that I can recall this memory. It helps me at times when I'm not feeling so successful and it allows me to look for the Goliath in whatever I am doing at the moment. By creating a rival I can gear up my energies to put forward my best efforts.

Our local high school team got crushed in their Thanksgiving rivalry game, but I had fun with D1 who made it home for the weekend. I'm sure to attend the game next year as well and like everyone else on our side of the field I will hope for a better outcome. One of these days we will beat that rival.

And that makes me happy.

Giving Thanks

2011-11-24T11:53:00.001-05:00

I'm sitting watching the Macy's parade with all three girls. Cali girl just got up. She's still on her time zone. Last night was a blast. We ate in the city and went to see "How to Succeed In Business" with Daniel Radcliff (Harry Potter). This is just a few quick starters.

If I didn't limit myself to getting these posts out early in the day, I could probably continue writing this one forever. You see I am thankful for so many things that there is likely not enough time to think about them all much less write them all down.

Here's a few I can think of: I am thankful for my health, my freedom, my wife Mary, the three beautiful girls sitting here with me. I am thankful for the quiet of morning, the end of a long day, I am thankful for my family, that we are all here, that we can see each other very often, that we still play together and laugh, that we stand together when times are hard and celebrate the good times in each others' lives. I am thankful for work, both my ability to perform it and the continued availability of work that uses my skills. I am thankful for our country, all the men and women that give their time and sometimes their lives to protect the freedoms we all enjoy every day. I am thankful for the brave men and women that chose freedom, left their homes hundreds of years ago to cross the ocean, for the founders of our country and the establishment of the great democratic experiment. I wish there were more men like this today. In fact I wish I had the talent and strength and the will power to be one of them. Theft have my complete respect.

I am thankful for turkey and pecan pie and football. Fires in the fireplace are one of my great pleasures and I am thankful to have a comfortable home that allows me to experience them regularly.

On this day, my efforts here are distracted by the wonderful scene around me. Perhaps rather than trying to be profound here I will just be who I am, Everyman, and enjoy the day with my family.

And that makes me happy.

Go Make a Difference

2011-11-23T06:29:00.002-05:00

I'm pretty sure I have written here about the songs in my head. Let's see yes here we go: "I"ve Got Stuff Runnin Around My Head".

Usually the song in my head in the morning is something I have heard in the last day or so, either as now through Pandora on the bus to work, or on iPod/iPad in the car or commute home. Sometimes if I'm lucky I hear D2 playing a cover version of popular songs. The other night we heard a unique version of "You Better Shape Up" from Grease and that stayed with me for a good two days.

I don't remember listening to any music yesterday so I can only imagine that my brain was straining to find a song to fill my thoughts as I woke today. Interestingly my subconscious went all the back to Sunday to find a song and of all sources it picked something we heard in church.

I guess it makes sense as the sermon was a sort of "Hear & Tell" on songs from Advent. A good message in our days of have it now, forget tradition, rights without responsibility, care of self rather than community. Advent, and its music, reminds us that waiting and anticipation are good things. Being prepared for the "way of the Lord" (that's a good song too) is a wonderful way to live, and not just in this coming season of waiting.

The song in my head though, was not one of the Advent songs. Rather it was the recessional that is played at each of these monthly CCD family masses. It's kind of the theme song for D3's Confirmation class. It's straight out of the song book in Church but it sounds more like a motivational anthem. It's called "Go Make a Difference" and like many religious folk songs the refrain repeats the title line over and over. The instruction is direct and speaks to our young adults with a message of personal commitment to community. Perhaps too corny for 8th grade girls and boys, but a stunningly refreshing message all the same.

As the bus rolls through the dark (and rain today) I am thinking about how I can make more of a difference in the world. More to come on this.

And that makes me happy.

It's THUESDAY!

2011-11-22T06:38:00.001-05:00

Yes, I am already thinking about the long weekend. My college girl is coming home. Our office is closed Friday. There will be lots of good food and football. We will celebrate with friends and family. We have a family night in the city planned for tomorrow. And the whole thing kicks off with a feast (pot luck) at work today.

What's not to like! What's not to look forward too?!

Today will be a busy day. In addition to the feast I have several client meetings and I have to send out a disciplinary note to one of the sales guys. I sat him down on Friday and went through his issues. I'm not certain he got it so today he gets the written version. In an economy where every dollar spent counts, we all need to be even more productive and have less tolerance for the unproductive. It's difficult to put another person's likelihood in jeopardy but the alternative is putting all of us at risk.

Yes, I am glad that Tuesday this week is really Thursday. I am looking forward to all the fun, even if getting through today will be tough.

And that makes me happy.

Three Amigos

2011-11-21T07:38:00.001-05:00

Short week, short post.

I'm tired, it's a rainy Monday. The Giants lost in the Sunday Night game so I stayed up to late. Mary started work at a local clothing store. D3 had CCD Family Sunday Mass in the evening and then an 8:00pm pick up and D2 was in homework mode most of the day.

My tired is a good tired though. Due to all sorts of high school sports schedules the only people at our Sunday work out were me, B3 and B5. He had planned one of our group "push me - pull you" events using the now infamous sled and our normal 44 pound kettle bells. With only three of us that meant a 2 to 1 ratio of work to rest during our jog. And as usual B5 had planned a few surprises.

There was a fair amount of procrastination as we pondered the work load, but eventually we were off. With my nephew as camera man we took off up the hill. One man pushing, one man carrying, one man jogging. Every 30 seconds we switched and continued on for a solid 15 minutes. Then the fun began.

We covered the remaining distance in our loop with a cycle of Burpee/ broad jumps then sled, then Farmer's walk. In all we likely broad jumped about a quarter of a mile.

3 minutes of planks and then collapsed on the garage floor. But when brothers are involved there is always a little bit of competition so B5 told me to bang out 5 pull ups, they followed. Then another and another. Three rounds. Then we did squats. By now we were in over drive so instead of the prescribed 5 squats, B3 just kept going and pushed up 20 or so. B5 matched and so did I. One more round and then we were finally done. A great stretch to finish and then lots of high fives.

It's a good tired I feel this morning as I rub sore muscles and contemplate how to avoid bending down to do anything. Three 40 something amigos romping through the neighborhood and pushing through our PT. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

And that makes me happy.

Just 20 Seconds More

2011-11-18T08:03:00.000-05:00

This week has featured several "time based" workouts. In these sessions, rather than performing a number of repetitions of an exercise as the measure, instead you work against the timer. Early in the week we did a grab bag of exercises and the clock was set for 40 seconds of work and then 20 seconds of rest. Yesterday's events, using the Bulgarian Body Bag, (I love saying that) called for a full minute of work and then 30 seconds rest. In each session we were required to run through about 10 or so exercises making one round in either scheme about 15 minutes. Looking back on the two days I am amazed at how much harder the 60 second events were than the 40's. I can't believe what a difference that 20 seconds makes.

If there are many elements that go into being successful in life, one of them is certainly endurance. Having the ability to keep going when things are difficult often times determines "the winner" in any given situation. In life we probably often think about this concept as perseverance, but I'm thinking that in order to persevere we need the strength to keep moving down the path. We need the endurance to keep producing work output. If this sounds mechanical, as in how a machine works, then so be it. Unlike machines though, in addition to the fuel to keep going, we humans need to build up our capacity to work. Muscle mass and strength, whether in the heart, legs or even our brains comes from training and pushing our limits on a regular basis. Endurance then, like many other desirable qualities takes practice and commitment. Example, go run a marathon. Go ahead, just do it. The vast majority of us would fail utterly should we lace up our sneaks this morning and go out to run 26+ miles. I know I would. But with training and commitment many of us could build up the endurance to push our bodies through the grueling test of a marathon. Mary proved this resoundingly in 2004 or 2005 when she completed the Boston Marathon having never been a distance runner, or runner at all for that matter. She trained, built up the specific physical endurance to go along with her already present mental toughness and she cruised through the race helping her dear friend to make the distance as well.

Working your heart, lungs and selected muscles for 60 seconds vs. 40 seconds seems to pale in comparison to running a marathon but for me it is illustrative. As I said last night by email to B5 when I thanked him for the workout, "the difference between a 40 second and 60 second GO is way more than 20 seconds". B5 remarks bluntly, "yes, it's called Endurance".

Building endurance to enhance my capacity to work, play, listen, love and live is one of the many reasons I have committed myself to a life full of exercise. When I'm ninety perhaps I will get that marathon done, because, at this rate, by then I may just have the legs for it.

And that makes me happy.

A Morning at Home

2011-11-17T08:59:00.001-05:00

Unfortunate circumstances, Gran's funeral, but I am sending this in a little later than usual because at the normal hour of posting, I was still in bed. I may have also been asleep. I woke at the normal time and was flush with that wonderful "snow day" feeling of not having to get up for school.

II got to see both girls as they readied themselves for school (both dedicated, so going for the first couple of classes prior to mass). I had the company of a whole flock of birds on the tree outside my bathroom window to keep me company as I shaved. Seems the berries on that Hawthorne tree make for good Fall eating. They took turns flying from a bigger tree over to eat. It was as if they were watching out for each other as they went. Very nice of them.

It's a bit of a gray day here and most of the leaves are now down. Unlike days earlier this week, it's a bit chilly so stepping outside into the morning air feels great. I also enjoyed looking around "the grounds" to see the effects of all the rain from yesterday and last night.

The sun is trying to break through. I will eventually have to make my way into the city, and I have already been at work here for a god hour with a conference call and the normal early morning activities. I have spoken with our folks in Asia and Europe and confirmed events for the day.

As I sit at my kitchen table writing this I am thinking about how much I appreciate things. We will celebrate Gran today. I will hug the ones I love. I will drive into the greatest city in the world and hopefully make a difference in the lives of people I work with and interact with all day. But I am also thinking about how nice it has been to experience the quiet, easy going start to my day here on this fall morning in the suburbs.

And that make me happy.

Now and Then

2011-11-16T08:26:00.000-05:00

Last night I walked a bit further to the west before heading south to the bus station. I was walking with two of my co-workers, one of whom was heading a bit further north so we stayed on the path with him to keep company. Eventually I turned south on Broadway and wandered down this out of place path that cuts across the formal grip pattern of this city in a steep diagonal route from upper west all the way to the lower tip. As I walked I started thinking again of excerpts from recent reading.

My current book "New York" tells me that Broadway dates back as far as the city. When all of town was below Wall St. there was a path used by Indians to move diagonally up and down the island. This path became the main thoroughfare as traders moved goods from the wilderness north of the island down to the port city.

The grid that is the Manhattan street map turned 200 years old this year. The map has been called the single most important document to the development of the city of New York. Edward Rutherfurd describes this development through wonderful anecdotes. This morning I read of an automobile ride, presumably one of the first, around the city from Gramercy Park up to the Dakota, on to Charles Schwab's mansion on the west side and then to Columbia. The other day I read a segment describing the blizzard of 1888 and the journey from the Dakota to Gramercy Park by a messenger boy. He stopped along the way at one of the few open establishments (a bar) and was treated to a "car driver's" which was ale with some red pepper mixed in to presumably warm your insides. I have been on Broadway when there's been twenty plus inches of snow but I can only imagine (and thankfully read) about what it was like in the late 19th century.

As I walk south I look at the buildings and wonder at their age. Certainly there are examples built in those days of northern expansion, but not too many remain. The thing that gets me though is the constancy of this city. That messenger walked right here. The newly minted Rolls Royce silver ghost of my novel would have driven right past here. When I enter Times Square a whole new set of "memories" enters my mind and I try to picture what it was like before they plowed under the hills (Manahatta is said to translate to "island of hills') leaving houses stranded on bluffs and big earth works where now we have to cart away snow to the rivers as there is no place for it to sit. I wonder what those folks would have thought of neon lights.

It is a wondrous place and I am lucky to be able to walk through time in such an enduring setting.

And that makes me happy.

We Will Miss Her, She Was Gran

2011-11-15T06:40:00.002-05:00

I must have met her about 30 or 35 years ago. I can't remember exactly. I have recollections of picking up B3 at her house and meeting the odd accented Welsh man of the house.

I have known her daughter at least as long first recollections being a grammar school basketball game or our front lawn as she sat with my brother.

She was one of those enduring presences in our lives. With my "sister from another mother", as B1 put it yesterday, her only child we likely got the lion's share of holiday gatherings. But that's not to say there wasn't family on her side. In fact the very large cast of characters that make up her family are a wonderful counterpoint to our clan. There are cousins and aunts, weddings and babies, and of course, Uncle Fuzzy was one of the great ones.

She was very straight forward, always interested, and always, always spoke her mind. A Lebanese American married to a Welshman. Mother of the wonderful girl that I watched grow up and marry B3. Uncrowned leader of her family. As she aged she picked a spot and held court. My children were close to her. She developed a very special relationship with Mary and I often felt as though she purposefully Mothered her.

She made us dinner. She made us laugh. She taught us all. She made us happy. I will miss her, but she made us family.

She was Gran.

And that makes me happy.

A Couch Potato With the World at His Figertips

2011-11-14T08:11:00.000-05:00

Mary and the girls were away for the weekend. They had a break from school and so headed out for a fall weekend on the invitation of one of our closest friends for a girls weekend. I worked my week and then spent a relatively quiet weekend at home. I wired a few trees, worked out a bunch and did a lot of odds and ends around the house. Dinner at my parents Saturday night was the big event over the two days so as you can imagine I had a good amount of down time, which I spent on the couch.

Unlike many other couch potato weekends, this one was my first with iPad in hand. So in addition to keeping track in real time of my Fantasy team (I am losing heading into the Monday night game, but still lead my league) I was able to read all my news, check in on happenings in London, stay up on all the changes in European governments, check the weather (it's getting to that time of year when the trees will need to come inside to avoid frozen roots), create a cool drum beat as the beginnings of a song in my head, download and start using an App. that let's me write with my fingers as if at a white board, take and send a picture of myself to D1 who was feeling a bit down on her sorority's Father / Daughter day, view pictures of her (apparently in better spirits) sipping margaritas with friends, retrieve and view pictures from the Girls weekend, drop a quick note to my CFO and CEO about an idea on pricing, look up a quick recipe for Hollandaise Sauce, watch for updates from B5 who took part in a crazy race, and oh yeah, watch and control the TV's in my house!

I know I have already gushed about my new toy "iEnvy No More" but it seems every time I think about something there is an immediate solution in my hands now. On Saturday I was chatting with D1 about her Sorority Father's day. We were chatting on phones (still need to figure out how to do this on iPad) and she asked me if the Penn State football game was on. Tap, tap, tap. Yes, third quarter, they are losing. Hey, what's that link to "Watch Live". Tap, tap, tap. I now have several ESPN channels delivered to the iPad streaming live coverage in a better picture quality than on my HD TV's.

Then I 'm thinking I saw somewhere that you can actually use an iphone as a remote for your TV. Tap, tap, tap. I now have an App from FIOS that allows me to set recordings on my DVR from anywhere, look at the listings, and if I'm at home pick which set I am watching and control the TV right from the iPad. Not only is this a better user experience than shrinking the picture on the TV to reveal the guide, but it is faster and provides a better view of what's on right now simply by sliding a finger.

I'm certain I haven't even scratched the surface with my new toy, but to think that it has changed one of the most common activities of men my age (The Art of the Couch Potato) I remain truly amazed.

And that makes me happy.

Just a Deck of Cards

2011-11-11T06:38:00.001-05:00

If you are one of those people that can't, or won't work out because you don't have the right equipment or it takes too long or you don't belong to a gym, or any other reason you might come up with, here's one that's so simple and had me sweating for a good half hour after I was finished.

It was a long train ride back from Washington yesterday and I didn't get to work out on Tuesday or Wednesday so I was itching "to get after it" as my sensei says. So I was a little bit disappointed when the prescribed work out of the day was the Card Flip. There have been days when as a group we have blown through this in 19 minutes and needed more.

As is often the case, there was a twist to the day's effort that was lying right there in front of me but didn't expose itself until well into the workout. B5 has a way of picking exercises that work the whole body in each workout. He has carefully reviewed the method of attack each day and then selected the movements and weight based on the total effort. As I'm sure I have mentioned before, he targets the workouts at about 30 minutes but at the end of those minutes I am always completely spent. Last night was no exception.

In the Deck of Cards approach you pick a couple of exercises, in this case five. You therm flip the first card over. Whatever the number says, that's how many repetitions you perform. Seems simple right? Well it is. Flip a 3, do three reps. Flip an ace, it's eleven. With your five exercises you simply move through the entire deck of cards. Last night it took me 27 minutes. I stood in one place, no running, or machines, or fancy equipment. I stood there with two dumbbells and performed five exercises over 52 cards worth of reps, and at the end I could barely move. The beauty of this one is that you can pick any five exercises. If you don't have weights or have limited space you can use all body weight movements. I guarantee after a whole deck of cards you will be sweating and huffing and puffing.

I am so glad I have these 30 minutes most days. I am sore today, but in a a very good way and I am already looking forward to today's workout posting on the web.

And that makes me happy.

Washington, DC and a Funny Thing I Did Last Year

2011-11-10T07:31:00.001-05:00

This morning I am up early again to take the train to our nation's capital. It's a very foggy Fall morning where the air is confused. It can't tell whether it should hold all this water or just let it drop. From ground to sky the temperature is so varied that the blanket of low lying fog in some places is so thick that you can barely see the side of the road.

I am heading to DC to pitch one of the biggest private equity firms in the world. I hope it goes well!

It was a day just like this about a year ago that I was last in Washington. I was with a colleague attending a lunch event at which we were speaking. The train schedule was such that I had time to kill in the afternoon before my departure home. It was only about an hour so I decided to walk around the Capitol grounds. One of the features of these grounds is that they mark all the names of the tree species with little signs to let you know how diverse their plantings are. The original plan must have been to get representative trees from around the country. It being mid way through Fall, many of the trees had already dropped their leaves and there were countless acorns all over the ground. I guess they had planted a lot of oaks to demonstrate the strength of our country.

Now I am always looking for unique trees. As a bonsai enthusiast I am fascinated by the different growth patterns, shapes, colors and textures of trees. Thus I always have my eyes open and take note of individual trees that look different. I was heavily rewarded on my walk around the big dome. Coming to the end of my circle I noticed a tree off the beaten path that looked familiar. It was a kind of pine tree looking thing, but the needles were all brown and falling. Wondering if it was a bald cypress (my neighborhood at home has a few of these so I have gotten to know what they look like) I wandered over and took a look for the little plaque and its description. Turns out it was a dawn redwood. A bit similar to the bald cypress in that it is deciduous and loses it's leaves each year. "A Redwood" I thought, "I need to grow one of these". With so many branches and leaves on the ground already I immediately started looking for cones. Luckily there were a bunch that looked like they had just dropped. I couldn't tell how mature the tree was and as yet didn't know that often cones from younger trees don't produce new plants, but as I slipped a couple of cones into the pocket of my suit I was hopeful. A Redwood!

Sparing you the full details, I prepared and stored the seeds over winter and this past spring planted about million of them in little cups. To my unbelievable amazement, I now have about a dozen saplings. Great story right. No, not really. Well it makes me happy, but here's what I am remembering as I speed towards Washington one year later. It turns out that the tree from which I took the cones is the only Dawn Redwood on the Capitol grounds. It was donated by Mary's step Dad and planted on the grounds by Senator Hatfield from Oregon. I know this only because weeks after picking up the cones (Thanksgiving actually) Mary's Mom was visiting. One evening during the weekend I sat at the kitchen counter and started cracking the cones to get the seeds. In describing my story, through the ridicule of my daughters (you're so weird), Mary's Mom remembered the providence of this tree. I said it couldn't be such a coincidence, but upon checking with Mary's brother who worked for Senator Hatfield the history was confirmed.

I have planted a lot of seeds (I still can't get any of the neighborhood bald cypress cones to sprout) and have lived with the frustration. Nature is a crazy alignment of conditions. To think that my family is so connected to this tree and that Nature conspired to allow me to succeed in germinating my new "Little Forest" as Mary calls it is a wonder to me. Today I hope I have time to wander over and visit that tree to see how it's doing. Just like the timelessness it displays I hope one day this story will give my grandkids a chuckle if one of my girls remembers to tell it. (he was so weird!)

And that makes me happy.

The Smell of Autumn Night

2011-11-09T06:25:00.002-05:00

These days my commute takes me by mass transit through the dark of pre-dawn into the City and again through the dark of the evening ride home. Most of my adult life has been spent this way. We lived in the City for two years after getting married but as soon as the kids arrived we moved to the burbs and I got on mass transit.

There was a stretch of six years though when I drove to work instead. Last night on my way home from a business trip I retraced my route and as the day was unusually warm, the night air was brilliant.

With windows open I drove through a part of the state that still farm land and undeveloped wooded areas. This middle section of the driving commute was always a highlight and last night drive brought back many memories of being on that road.

Given the weather the memory that stuck in my mind, and my lungs, was the wonder at the smell of autumn night air. There is something very distinctive about the smell of night after days mixed with still bright sunshine, falling and toasting leaves, the drying of wet under brush, perhaps a distant leaf pile burning, and the crisp drop in temperature bringing moisture out of the air to capture it all and leaving it lingering in your nose. On nights like this there isn't humidity, but you might get fog. The earth below me on the sides of the road is still very warm so the waves come up from the grass in a rising heated air mass. This air mass seems to meet that distant breeze carrying so many tanins from the just fallen and drying leaves. I wish I had better words to describe the experience.

As I drove through the autumn night I thought of many others, windows down, music loud, singing lousy harmony to myself, and truly experiencing the season. Given my current enclosed mass transit commute I was happy for the reminder. Autumn night air is beautiful.

And that makes me happy.

Three Rivers

2011-11-08T08:44:00.001-05:00

Today was an extra early rise. I'm off to Pittsburg to visit with a few prospects and a big client. Since the airfare from my normal airport was steep, I drove the hour and forty minutes in the other direction to get a cheaper flight. The roads were empty and as I crossed the big river I came upon one of our original cities. The sun was coming up since we moved the clocks and I was able to see the real landscape of the place. I though how beautiful it must have been to the first people that enchanted this bend in the river. I would have stopped here too.

I am reading "New York" by Edward Rutherfurd. It's one of his sweeping histories of of place and people. I have read several of his stories and have very much enjoyed picking up little pieces of what life was truly like for earlier generations. One thing consistent in all the histories I have read from Rutherfurd is the difficulty large bodies of water can cause. Without the modern bridges like the ones I came over this morning it was nearly impossible to pass over fast and deep rivers. They did however act as the highways of the day for those well established and easy to protect locations. Access to the ocean meant trade, and trade meant prosperity for early settlers. Such was the setting in New York, Philadelphia, and Boston. Each had a safe harbor that could be protected relatively well. Each had access to the ocean trade routes back to Europe as well as down to the islands and over time to the ports of the Southern States.

Ultimately rivers gave way to roads, roads gave way to trains, and trains to airplanes. Today I travel by road, over rivers to an airplane to travel to another great city surrounded by three rivers. As I spend my day in one of our early country's second generation cites I am thinking about the rivers and how hard it was for the first people to cross them. I am thinking about the modern rivers that we cross and hoping that I am as brave and determined as those that have come before me. Pittsburg here I come.

And that makes me happy.

When the Frost is on the Punkin

2011-11-07T11:36:00.000-05:00

It's amazing how an observation can lead to such learning and increased connection with the world around me and the past. It happens everyday and I try as best I can to capture the ideas and experiences. If I'm lucky I actually remember some of them and capture them here.

This was a fall weekend. Pretty typical of fall weekends that have come before. It was cool, or cold depending on your perspective in the morning and warmed with the sun to an "I still need a coat" 60ish degrees. I still ran and worked out outside on Saturday morning, but with long sleeves. I finally put away all the pool / patio and screened porch furniture. The outside bathroom has been shut down and all the cushions and chairs safely stowed for the winter. The night time temperatures are getting down near freezing and I was staying up to date (thanks iPad) with the hourly forecast to make sure my little trees' roots don't freeze.

On Saturday morning we had our first real hard frost. It's the one that comes every year and finally signals the end of the last remaining flowers of summer. The sun has kept them going until now but you can finally see them give up after the weight and depth of this frost. As I breathed in the early Saturday morning cool air and looked at my little trees to insure none were worse for wear, the James Taylor song "Walking Man" came into my head. The second verse starts out something like "...the frost is on the pumkin and the hay is in the barn." It has that perfect Autumn reference in a single line or two of verse and stuck with me as a thought for my udate today. Was there a time when he walked out of his Western Mass. home and actually saw frost on a pumpkin. That would have been great to see and likely would have inspired me as well. I doubt I could have been able to come up with those lyrics despite spending a lifetime thinking about the same subject. As I quickly searched the internet prior to writing this morning, just to make sure that I had the song and the lyrics pretty accurate I came across a poem written by James Whitcomb Riley from around 1916. The poem is entitled "When the Frost in on the Punkin" and it speaks of that time after the harvest when the average farmer is waking to an Autumn day when his barn is full, animals well stowed and his summer's work well done.

I'll never know if somehow James Taylor came across this poem as he looked for inspiration for "Walking Man", but his character is certainly a counter point to Riley's. If in fact he was inspired by the poem I'm wishing I knew it many years ago as I could have appreciated it as I do now as a comparison to that man looking at the pumkins.

Either way, inspired or not, I am better today for having walked out my door on an autumn morning, seeing the first frost, thinking of a wonderful song, seeking its lyrics and stumbling on a wonderful piece of Americana. Here's a link to the poem: http://www.bartleby.com/104/10.html

And that makes me happy.

I know it's Friday, But Keep Up the Pace

2011-11-04T13:23:00.000-04:00

This weekend brings the annual running of the NYC marathon. Everywhere you look there are people walking around with their registration bags, or getting in that last jog to get acclimated to running on the streets. They are all over the place. I can't remember how many people this race attracts but I know it's in the thousands. Thus all over town and in the surrounding area there are people (including former NY Ranger Mark Messier) who have dedicated a significant amount of their time to preparing.

I have never run a long distance, much less the 26+ miles of a marathon. Mary has and I watched her several month long training regime. It was grueling, but she can handle anything so as with most things, she made it look easy. I am not a runner. I do it now as part of my training but I am usually only knocking out 5K or so.

Watching all these people on a Friday, while my work week is winding down, I am inspired to push a bit harder and longer into the close of my week. There are always things to get done and usually I keep the list moving. Today there isn't any big deadline or issue pressing so I have had time to think about the longer term projects I have to complete. There's a new plan for sales, and one for account management. I need to review all existing accounts with the account management teams. I need to complete a revenue forecast for 2012 as a first pass. I am trying to hire people so I need to reach out to my network to push for more candidates. I have been pushing to get a new pricing model together and have spent a lot of time this week fleshing it out. It would be good to take one more pass at it before the weekend.

I guess that the difference between doing your job and doing a great job could come down to the internal drive to get things done on Friday. It would be funny to measure real productivity across most people in office jobs on Friday vs. say Tuesday.

Well for at least this Friday, I won't be on the wrong side of that statistics. I have plenty to do and another couple of hours to get it done.

And that makes me happy.

Red, Red Wine

2011-11-03T07:08:00.001-04:00

I definitely miss both my father in laws. Mary's Mom was married twice and I got to know both men, but not enough. As I get older I look back at some of the great people I have met and which I had taken the time to get more out of those relationships. My Grandfather comes to mind immediately. While I knew him well and was lucky enough to have him around until I was a senior in college, I never took the time to learn enough about his life and his path to success.
Mary's Dad was a very successful doctor and was driven in both his work and his other interests. He liked opera, cars, electronics, travel, painting, and I'm sure, many other things I never learned about. One of his great passions that he did share with me though was his love of wine.
When I first met him we would go to dinner. He was always very friendly with waiters but it became clear very early on that he knew much more about wine than any wait staff we encountered. I remember him once in a very fancy NYC restaurant pointing out, first to us and then to the sommelier how a particular Spanish wine was extremely under priced. We of course had two bottles to celebrate his find.
When we visited his house he took great pride inn showing me the wine cellar. Both he and Mary explained how he had built the house into the side of a hill so that the cellar would be below grade to produce a perfect 55 degree space. The room wasn't so big but it housed a lot of wine. In the middle of the little room was a small table and three chairs. There was an old wine bottle with a candle in it covered with the wax of previous candles on the table and I could envision many a late night full of conversation around that table.
Over the years he bean to explain how he learned and then selected wine. He spoiled us rotten by sharing some of the great wines of all time with our neophyte palates. And I learned. I began to figure out the difference between mediocre and fine wine. I learned the qualities I enjoyed and those I didn't. I began to understand young versus old and appreciate both. But more than anything I began to understand that the fun and true value was in the learning. Mary's Dad was never pretentious about wine. He was perfectly comfortable letting others pick wine and comment on it. He knew what he knew and it made him happy. He didn't need to preach.
Last night I was a bit late in getting home so missed exercise for the second day in a row. I was very hungry and was quite thankful that Mary had dinner ready for me. The girls were watching one of the shows they watch so I sat down and ate in the other room. When I was finished I noticed the left over open bottle from the weekend. It is good but inexpensive wine so likely won't stay fresh too much longer. Being tired and wanting to relax I poured a glass sat in the quiet and thought about the day. I appreciated the wine and remembered how I have learned.
And that makes me happy.

She was, An American Girl

2011-11-02T09:29:00.000-04:00

I took a different path across town yesterday and wandered past the American Girl store. It's right around the corner from St. Patrick's which I stopped in on for the holy day. I love walking by this store and seeing all the young girls either walking in with dolls in hand or coming out with packages of different sizes. You can really get a sense for the effort (both physical and economic) that parents are making to bring their girls here. Some folks walk in with a big entourage replete with friends, many dolls, matching outfits or fancy dresses, clearly heading for a lunch event in the stores restaurant. Others are Mom's and a daughter, or a Grandmother and a child. There are small family groups likely celebrating a birthday with Dad having taken a day off work to escort the family into the City. Some come out with big bags full of a whole host of the latest gear from new dolls to seasonally accurate clothes and accessories. Others may just have a single small bag representing the one thing, of all the options in the store, that fit their idea of perfect on that day. These always make me smile a little bigger because I know that that gift represents careful selection and will likely be much more appreciated than the big bag crowd. I am definitely stereotyping here but cross section of people I have seen is so diverse that I can't help but apply some generalizations.

And indeed, I know a thing or two about American Girls. I first heard Tom Petty sing the words as a teenager. I was a "newish" guitar player and the opening riff by Mike Campbell hooked me right away. I just looked and saw that "American Girl" came out on Heartbreaker's first album in 1977 so I have been listening to it for a good 30 years. I am still struck by the ingenuity of the song, the local lyrics, the distinct guitar sounds and the sense of adventure and freedom it conveys. It is one of my classics.

As a young Dad I chuckled a bit at the arrival of a light and dark pink striped catalog from a new entity called "American Girl". Little did I know that that catalogue would start a more than decade long relationship with the company, the stories and the experiences which in no small amount defined what being "a little girl" meant in the mid-1990's and 2000's. From the news of the first store opening in Chicago through at least one or two of those famous "Lunch at AMP" events we were able to witness the joy, excitement, attention to detail, anticipation, and pure fun in the eyes of our three girls. One by one they came of American Girl age and as the number of dolls in my house went up and the amount of "stuff" escalated seemingly out of control we got to see our girls make choices and learn about the things they found important or interesting.

One might like to read all the background story stuff on the original dolls and get a better sense of the time she lived. Another might be interested in sitting with each new catalogue to identify and mark every new outfit or set of accessories that they wanted on their wish list. In playing with the dolls the girls interacted with each other and built bonds. We saw creativity and imagination at work as they interacted with their dolls making pretend cookies or cakes or running an office or preparing for a visit to relatives.

In all I think we ended up with enough American Girl paraphernalia to outfit a regiment of GI Joes, but the hours and years of fun were worth it. The dolls still sit on shelves in favorite outfits and from time to time, I notice hair being brushed. Who knows if they will be around by the time we have grand daughters, it doesn't really matter. I'm fully confident, now that these years have passed, saying that in each case, my girls are American Girls.

And that makes me happy.

Banh Mi

2011-11-01T11:13:00.000-04:00

I like a good sandwich. Likely because I remember my Dad as a good sandwich maker and the fantastic memories I have of going with him to a Sub (yes that's what we call them where I live) shop near our childhood beach town. We would head to the sub shop when my Dad needed to get us some food and get us off the beach (or likely out of my Mom's hair) for a while. We would get the perfectly made hero's (that's what my Dad calls them) and head over to a near by park to eat. The park had a war memorial in it which we called the "Fake Fort" because it had several World War 2 cannons and big guns.

Come Christmas time, my Dad made the best Duck sandwich from the leftover Christmas dinner. There was a specific bread that he bought before hand and he had a way of getting the exact right proportions of all the ingredients. We were a big sandwich household. Every morning before school, or before heading to the beach in summer, or prior to a road trip, or just on a random Saturday afternoon, the assembly line would be created. I remember my Mom buying Cold Cuts by the pound and we would tear through them. By the time my older brother and I were in high school we were making 10 or so sandwiches each morning to keep "the Meathooks" as my Mom referred to her 5 sons fed.

I have made thousands and tried innumerable combinations but the key to a good sandwich in my mind is the bread, or roll. I would have to say that every sandwich that I have truly loved started with great packaging. Of course the stuff on the inside has to be delicious as well, but if the bread falls apart or has no flavor or texture then you might as well be eating off a plate. There is no "one right kind of bread" either. It's more about how the bread is made and how fresh it is when you get it. There is a sandwich shop in our town with a great reputation. I like there sandwiches, though they are not great, but I go back consistently because they have awesome rolls. Put virtually anything on them and you have a great lunch.

I like hot sandwiches, like chicken parm or meatballs. I like messy sandwiches like pulled pork and cole slaw. I like little sandwiches like the highly crafted combinations we had that time in London when we treated the girls to High Tea. I like sandwiches with unique ingredient combinations that make me think of the places I have had them like even though they are both ham and cheese how the version served in an Irish pub is so different from the one served on the streets of Paris.

The one thing I don't like though, is a poorly made sandwich. Unless I am eating a very specific Pastrami or corned beef on the lower east side of Manhattan, I do not like the overstuffed sandwich. A huge pile of dried out turkey served on falling apart rye bread is a disaster. Your average worker in a deli doesn't care about the product being made, and you can tell. The meat and cheese are slapped down in a pile, too much or too little mayo squeezed out of a squirt bottle. The only thing holding it together is the paper wrapping used to package it so that they can get a knife through it without causing the whole thing to explode.

So you have to be careful where you buy your sandwiches. A bunch of years ago the phenomenon of the Food Truck began. Back then they were more carts rather than the full blown kitchens on wheels that we see these days. One of my favorite, and original carts in NYC was down near Wall St. It was a tiny thing, probably 4 feet by 7 feet with two people inside cranking out the freshest, best tasting Banh Mi. I of course didn't know what that was when I first encountered the cart but there was a massive line and one thing I know about New Yorkers is that they will only wait for something if it's truly worth it. I walked by that day thinking that I would have to come back earlier in the lunch hour on another day to avoid the line. I was later to learn that good customers knew the cell phone number of the proprietor and called in orders beginning at about 11:00am. I eventually got my classic Banh Mi and much the same way that I love Vietnamese lettuce rolls or Thai spiced dishes due to the combination of spice and refreshing vinegary vegetables and cilantro I was hooked on the flavor. The killer app though, is the French baguette that the sandwich is served on. A remnant from the French colony in south east Asia, Banh Mi is literally translated as "cake made from wheat" and refers to the craft in and of itself that we know as the baguette. (I could, and might write a whole post about good baguettes). When all of those wonderful Vietnamese ingredients are stuffed into a still warm, slightly crusty, but still very soft baguette the magic truly occurs.

I was wandering the neighborhood around my office the other day in search of a reasonably priced deli in which I could cultivate a new relationship with the Deli guy. I find that if you invest in getting to know them you get a better outcome with your lunch. I went a little further out on this recon mission and was rewarded by coming upon a tiny little shop selling Banh Mi. It will most definitely be my new favorite lunch spot as though they are small like the cart downtown, they care about the preparation and the ingredients. Though there are still many other sandwiches to try and a constant imagination working on new combinations of leftovers in my fridge at home. It's good to know that I have a new staple in the neighborhood to satisfy my sandwich obsession.

And that makes me happy

Sunday in the Park

2011-10-31T08:05:00.001-04:00

That's actually MetLife Park.

Yesterday was a good day. I woke feeling a little queezy from a way too late dinner reservation with two other couples. BYO wine meant at least a glass too many and the food left me pretty acidic.

Despite an early start I got in the HIIT workout at B5's house. Lots of sweat and huffing and puffing cleared my head if not my stomach.

But the point of this day was the Giants. More specifically, a day at the game with D3.

When the new stadium was being planned my Dad announced that he would likely let his season tickets go as the cost was going up significantly. Not in a place financially where I could afford luxuries like this I backed out from the syndicate of my brothers and cousins that decided to pony up the money to keep the two seats. My father and uncle had shared these seats since the sixties and we have all been lucky to attend games at the various homes of the Giants. Yale bowl, Yankee stadium, Shea stadium and the beginning in 1976 at Giants Stadium. I loved these one on one days with my Dad. As we all got older my Dad would share his games with us and in turn I took each of my girls. I usually got one, maybe two games a year so "Going to the Game" was quite special. Like all Dads, I made a big deal of the day. Jerseys, hot dogs, hats, etc. To this day, we have 5 or 6 home jerseys in the house that have become Halloween costumes and night shirts.

When the new stadium was finished the tickets were shared across the syndicate and I was out of the rotation. Other than the little pangs I feel letting all of the luxuries go, no one in my house seemed to mind. The girls, getting older, had little interest and Mary would rather spend the day doing other things. Thus it's been over two years since I have been to a game and never in the new park.

When B3 asked me if I wanted his seats for Sunday, having learned of a schedule conflict I through out the option to Mary and she immediately responded that D3 would really like to go. I have likely been to more games with her than the others combined. Whether because she was the right ages during our hey day of seats or our closeness, or just her nature she was always up for the day. And though she is solidly a teenager now she was as enthusiastic as ever about spending the day together.

We followed our jointly recalled routines and touched all the hallmark memories. We wandered the new stadium, had our hot dogs (and hot chocolate due to the cold), and actually stayed for the entire game to witness our team pull out the win late in the day. I can think of very few experiences that touch on so many important parts of my life. The time with my baby, our shared experience and memories, the tradition passing through my Dad to me and now on to D3, the memories of my childhood, being outside and feeling the cool autumn air, even the quiet warmth of the car ride home and the chicken soup dinner. All these things tie my life together.

And that makes me happy.

Communicating is About the Talking Too

2011-10-28T11:50:00.000-04:00

As a husband, who leaves the house at 5:30am each day and gets home at 7:00pm or so and then wants to exercise for 45 minutes, my available time for sharing is pretty short. Combine this with the normal everyday "crises" in a houseful of teenage girls and the available time often disolves to nothing.

I've been at this new job for about two months now and the routine of working hard and focusing my brain on what needs to happen over night and tomorrow has certainly occupied my thoughts more and more in my hours at home. On many nights this hasn't been a problem. If the ship is steady and we don't have a crisis du jour Mary and the girls are generally occupied with homework, planning for the next day or relaxing with one of the shows they all like to watch, the dancing competitions or singing shows and even some of the bachelor type shows. Not caring for these I tend to eat my dinner in the other room with the computer (now iPad! yes, still exstatic) and the TV going on cooking, or travel shows or sports. Unfortunately, it's easy to lose sight of the hours lost. What seems like a perfectly normal evening is actually a lost opportunity. Combine these nights with the crisis nights or even just the "end of a rough day" nights and over time, looking back, I have fallen down as a good communicator.

I am a helper. I am the classic Fixer husband. Mary has a problem and my initial tendancy is to propose solutions. I have learned over time though from our talks that she often doesn't want a solution but rather for me to understand what's happening in her life. She wants me to listen. This has a been a multi-year effort on our part to get to a point where we feel like we are sharing in each other's life. I think I am becoming a reasonable listener but along the way I haven't held up the other side of the bargain, which is to share my side of our life together. It's not that I don't want to but I have felt like the times when I begin to share I end up listnening on another topic. I have put this down to needing to be a better listener so I don't interrupt and yet usually we don't come back to the subject of my day.

Last night I learned something new. In describing how I have not been sharing enough Mary told me that during a recent example of the crisis du jour it would have been a welcome relief to talk about something else, like my day to give herself a break on the stuff that was dogging her that day. It was a good thing to learn and helps me to be better at being a husband.

And that makes me happy.

15 Years a Friend

2011-10-27T07:20:00.000-04:00

I feel pretty lucky. Despite the ups and downs of my career, I have had the chance to meet many very good people. Most have moved in and out of my life. Many remain in my contact database with woefully outdated phone numbers and email addresses some with companies that no longer exist. I keep them in there to remind me of them and that time in my life. There's the VC guy in Pasadena that we pitched on the concept of a web property focused on Grandparents. Bill I believe was his name. We kept in touch for a couple of years. Nice guy. There's my boss Alan. He's retired in England somewhere but every now and then I drop him a note. He's been a reference for me at least once during my job hunts. I have tracked with pride, the careers of the people we hired at our little venture consulting firm. We kept it going for six great years and attracted so many great people. Social networks, email and the occasional phone call have allowed me to watch as they all move on to successful postions. I even check in with at least two people from my very first job now and then. They have both been through all the same market ups and downs that I have so we have a few bonds through which to connect. In total, right now, there are 934 people in my "database" of contacts that represent clients, business partners, former colleagues, service providers, neighbors and friends.

Of all these people though very few are what I would consider friends. I tend to open up a lot with people once I get to know them. I think it's part of building a strong relationship. They get to know what motivates me and my values and hopefully gain a level of trust based on integrity. Through these efforts I have a lot of what I would call "work friends". They are business associates with whom I can spend time regularly and to greater or lesser degrees, depending on how well and long I have known them, share ideas, celebrate successes, rely on for advice, or discuss markets and opportunities. They aren't ultimately "Friends" though.

Then there is John. I had lunch with him yesterday after not seeing him for about 2 years. I have known John for about 15 years, we figured out at our lunch and as I approached him on the corner both of our faces lit up and the hand shake quickly disolved into a real hug. John is my friend. We lead very different lives and our business paths have only intersected once. He's a city guy and I'm in the 'burbs. His jobs have taken him here and there, as have mine but we never seem to be in the same place at the same time. My clients are not his clients so we don't bump into each other through business dealings. But John and I formed a bond through a very high pressure situation 15 years ago in which we developed what now is obviously a deep respect for each other. John has integrity.

I was the president of a new division of a big Fortune 500 company and we were spending a lot of money building a massive data collection and information delivery system for this new thing called the Internet. John was the sales representative for the leading IT Consulting firm that was doing the software development. The project was massive and it was an immense sale for John. As I have come to know over the years, signing the big deal is the easy part in a big development project. The negotiation to bring it in on time and in scope is the brutal reality. John's company likely bit off a bit more than they could chew and we complicated the whole thing by having a second consulting firm building the user experience portion of the project. They failed miserably and John's firm tried to take up the slack which was difficult for them in an already stretched service model. The negotiations got very difficult. We had the chief technologist of the Fortune 500 company involved (read, breathing down my neck) and the CEO of John's company jumped in as well. Throughout the whole difficult resolution, John and I communicated openly and honestly. We didn't try to make the solution one firm's problem but rather a shared responsibility. John was great.

As we both went seperate ways post that project we stayed in touch. John is a salesman after all and I continued to move into roles that would likely present him with additional opportunities. But something happened as we continued to meet. Instead of the discussion centering on our business lives it shifted first to career and market opportunity and then to family, parenting, relationships, fears and anxieties, personal success, health, life aspirations for ourselves and children, marriage and many other topics. I remember the pink wrapped Hershey bars that John had when he and his wife had their daughter. John remembers me recounting the supermarket meltdown of a toddler. We have shared many stories from our lives and I look forward to seeing him each time our paths cross, which is far too seldom.

True, we don't see each other very often but when I look back over time at all the people that are "Friends" rather than "Associates", John is right up there at the top of the list. Yesterday we committed to a more regular schedule for our get togethers and there are actually a few business reasons for us to meet up again in the short term so I'm confident that we will make it happen. No matter though if it doesn't. I know I will see John's smiling face again at some point and we will pick up right where we left off yesterday. That's a friend, that's John.

And that makes me happy.

Chocalate Cake, and Eating it Too

2011-10-26T06:33:00.002-04:00

It's been over a year writing here and I can't believe I haven't mentioned chocolate cake. I just searched all 240 or so posts and there is no mention. How could this be?

There is a pretty famous Bill Cosby comedy routine about parenting. One segment describes his interaction with the child that is up early and wants her still fuzzy Dad to make her breakfast. "Well what would you like to have?", "Chocolate Cake.". "No silly, you can't have cake for breakfast, how about cereal?". "Chocolate Cake!". If you have had toddlers you know where this is going. Cosby's rationale is hilarious. After fighting the good fight he reasons, "Breakfast: Milk, eggs, flour, sugar.....Chocolate Cake!!"

When I was a young father I lived for these moments. Some of my favorite home movie vignettes are early in the morning on one of the girls birthdays. I am interviewing them as they eat Ice Cream for breakfast, a birthday treat and tradition inspired by Cosby. As they tell me what day it is and how old they are the spoon goes from bowl to mouth several times. When I finally ask what she's eating she says, matter of factly, "chocolate ice cream silly" as if ice cream for breakfast is the most natural thing in the world.

On some birthday or another while we ate our cake in the kitchen we got a little silly. Prone to big bites as a matter of course, I had a particularly full mouth when I decided to play a little "See food" game. It started by asking, "Do you like chocolate cake?" (Mouth completely full, words barely understandable, frosting all over teeth, etc.). It was rhetorical and I answered my own question, "I like Cake". To this day when any cake is served they ask me, "Dad, do you like cake?" Happily, my silly response still makes them all laugh. It's one of our "things"

I mentioned last week that I had a birthday. One of the many great surprises was a home made dense chocolate cake with salted caramel and chocolate butter cream frosting. I have been eating that cake, a slice a day now for over a week. Last night I said, "Not tonight" but there I was grabbing the well wrapped cake from the fridge.

Chocolate cake is like all the good things in life wrapped up together. Birthday memories, special occasions, a vacation dinner, holiday (you should see the Hagen Daz ice cream cake we used to get for Christmas) celebrations, breakfast with a special girl, an anniversary, sunday night, or any old day. Cake makes them all great. I guess as I think about it there are times like last night when I eat left over cake by myself, but most times when I eat cake I am surrounded by people I love. "I like cake"

And that makes me happy.

It's Chilly and I Need More Sleep

2011-10-25T06:16:00.001-04:00

Last night as I climbed into bed, a little later than I had planned, I got that jolt of cold sheets and it made me shiver a little bit. Curled up in a ball until body heat took control of the situation I thought to myself, here comes Winter.

This morning as I drove to the bus I had the windows open as usual and felt a bit of a cool sting in the air. I had left the defrost on from the night before so as the car warmed up I felts its heat. Warmth good, I thought. So too waiting in line to board the bus, in just a suit jacket the air tingled my ears, I was conscious of my hair being wet and the tip of my nose felt that little cold drip.

I wonder if these same experiences are present in nature. Not likely the driving and waiting in line for the bus, but that first bedding down and waking in which animals think, I gotta find a cave or a tree or something for my Winter nap.

It's far too early to be talking about long Winter's naps but with the darkness at night and morning and the inviting warmth of my bed, I find myself this morning thinking about the relaxing, restoring and rejuvenating power of sleep. With this note now finished, I think I will try to nap.

And that makes me happy.

Out of the Woodwork

2011-10-24T06:39:00.002-04:00

Yesterday the weather was fine. By mid day it was mid 60's and sunny. Our workout was a tough one but without a Giants game to watch I knew I wanted to be productive. One of the nagging big jobs on my list was to paint the western side of the house. This face gets the afternoon sun and was not part of the siding replacement project about five years ago. Instead it just got a new paint job which now showed signs of age. Likely a job that should have been tackled last year I knew I had to get this done prior to it getting much colder so I jumped in.

One of my reluctant summer jobs in high school was to paint houses. Actually just two, but I did paint both entirely by myself. I say reluctantly because I was not a real fan of work in those days. Well, actually it wasn't really the work I didn't like it was the "getting of the work". I was intensely shy and not at all self assured and thus struggled in the area of asking people for things, help, work, advice, etc.. I was also a bit of a dreamer so I would rather spend my time playing guitar and thinking about how famous I might be or how to perfect the communication of emotions through song. Or when I was younger just some game or imaginary world or situation. In other words I was not the first to volunteer. Not by a long stretch. In fact, my parents took to calling me Woodwork, as in "he disappears into the woodwork when there are chores to be done". I was quite skilled at being in the right places when work was being handed out. Outside when cleaning the fingerprints off the stairway wall was on the agenda or upstairs when picking up burrs from the sourgum tree in the front was the duty of the day. The odd thing though is that once I got into task would always perform it well. I was the chief pot washer post dinner every night because I did the best job getting every corner shiny. I was chief climber of trees and painter of high places because I was careful and skilled of balance and attention to detail.

So as I put on my old clothes, already covered in paint spots I gave a bit of a chuckle. Here I was all these years later choosing to go out and take on a job that would have avoided like the plague in my youth. And I was doing it proactively. I did a good job on the house on Sunday and I will be happy each day as I drive my car into the garage seeing clean painted boards rather than cracking paint and exposed wood. I'm not saying it took meal this time to mature. I worked out being responsible long ago. But on A sunny Sunday in football season it is funny to look back and see how things have changed.

And that makes me happy.

iEnvy No More

2011-10-21T07:47:00.000-04:00

It's been almost a week and I have barely begun to scratch the surface. I don't want to rush into things. Rather I am taking my time and looking at every possibility. On Tuesday I took a big step. Turned on the cellular coverage package. And yesterday I was able to connect to work email and download all my contacts. Not perfect but now I am completely synched with one "Gold" copy of all my contacts in one place. My daily activities are just about mastered at this point and I am scanning the paper every day again which is something I had dropped.

I am of course talking about the life changing integration of my new iPad.

For most of my adult life I have been "gadget envious". I tend not to buy the latest and greatest even though I really would like too. Rather I make due with what I have and as with many parts of my life I try to perfect the experience without the massive cost. Home music is a good example of this. Rather than wire the whole house which would be nice and convenient, I have worked out ways to connect our computers or iPods to the two main speaker systems. I can get Pandora on the porch and the girls dance pop in the great room.

Rarely though has my envy been so strong as with the iPad. After understanding the change in my own computing habits over the last few years and then seeing the device for the first time with it's touch based user interface, I was hooked. We have 5 computers in the house and of course D1 has one at college. The older girls have iPhones and D3 uses her iTouch so much we refer to it as her "Husband" since it's with her all the time. Mary and I are the luddites. We take the hand me down computers and have simple blackberry phones. The computer Mary uses is a reject from D1 whose battery is so shot that you can't even unplug to move from one room to another without having it shut down. I use an IBM laptop (I know, IBM doesn't make laptops anymore and hasn't for a long time). This one is from 2000 or 2001. It too must stay plugged in but as I only really use it to browse the web it has worked for me. But it is deathly slow and prone to just stopping for half hour "breaks" as it thinks about what to do next.

Combine my desire for the experience offered by the iPad and my frustration with my current computing environment and you might be able to see where my envy festered. I would never buy one myself and even if I considered I would likely always wait for the next generation, putting it off and putting it off. But boy have I wanted one. So, as I mentioned earlier in the week "So Much To Tell You" I was blown away when out of a big William Sonoma bag, with lots of tissue paper to add to the disguise, I pulled an Apple Computer box of a size that could only contain the longed for device. Thank you Mary for helping me understand that treats are important even for 49 year olds.

Today, I am reading the WSJ, working my fantasy team for the weekend, watching the Youtube of last night's workout, checking all of my email, looking at my Irish and NYT headlines and writing this note. It's fast, convenient, simple and beautiful.

And that makes me happy

Chasing cars

2011-10-20T06:16:00.001-04:00

Most of the people around me are asleep. There are a few newspapers open and some smart phones and iPads in hand, but for the most part people sleep. We have returned to darkness on the morning commute.
I don't sleep. Not sure why, but never have been able to. I continue to try and over the years have employed ear plugs, relaxation music, a self hypnosis recording and other tricks to shut down for this extra hour. Mostly though I just try to make the best / most of the quiet time. It has always been this way for me.

As a boy, my first home in the suburbs was on a relatively busy road. My brother and my bedroom faced the street and my bed sat right against the wall under the front facing window. At night as I waited to drift off to sleep I would watch the lights from passing cars as they filtered through our shades and swept across our ceiling. Some fast, some slow. One direction and then the other. Brighter as cars passed in both directions. The odd dim sweep of a motorcycle or the brighter flood of truck lights. I often imagined the lights painting colors across my room or carrying some message to the world. I'm sure there were a few alien events as well. But always there was comfort and calm watching the light.

So too on family road trips did the lights keep me company. At night In the "back back" of our station wagon I would sit as my brothers snoozed. My Mom or Dad would check every now and then asking if I was still awake. I always was. Turned comfortably to the side, in a blanket or coat with some kind of luggage or bag for pillows I would watch the cars go by.

On bigger highways near the city. There were light posts on the roads. As we passed these poles the reflection of the light off the windows of our car created a kind of laser effect in which the light "attached" to us and seemingly pulled and then propelled us as we passed by. Generally, the lights were evenly enough spaced so that just as one light let us go another would grab us and pull us forward. To me there was no gas only the propulsion by light. Similarly on less well lit highways oncoming cars created the same phenomenon, though I always thought that they didn't "push" us as well as the light poles.
Riding the bus in the dark I am reminded of these memories just as one of my current favorite Snow Patrol songs come into the ear buds.

"Let's waste time, chasing cars around our heads". "I need your Grace, to remind me, to find my own"
"If I lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world"
There is a peace in the dark and a comfort in the lights passing by. Now if I could only just drift off....

Nice memories either way.

And that makes me happy.

I Can't Count the Gifts I Have Been Given

2011-10-19T11:16:00.000-04:00

Starting on Monday there has a been so much in my head to get out onto "paper". Today I already had two thoughts in draft form but I have to make them wait. I have never held much anticipation, or great love for my own birthday. There is actually a family joke from my childhood as my dear Aunt and Uncle's anniversary is the day before my birthday so my parents regularly forgot my day. Over the years there have been some funny stories.

I was also pretty indifferent to my birthday this year. I'm getting up there and next year cross one of the biggies so this one was a go to work and keep it simple deal in my mind. I mentioned the other day "So Much to Tell You" that we had a fantastic dinner with a surprise iPad, so on my actual day I was expecting a quiet night. Instead, I got an unbelievably good dinner thanks to Mary, some great cards from D3 and D2, a call from D1, and the gift of song below performed by the composer / artist using the guitar I picked out for her about a year and a half ago ( I love that guitar). Gifts such as this from D2 are priceless to me. They stop my heart and bring my entire life into focus. Any expression of the heart tends to tug on me, sports stories, overcoming adversity stories, etc. but none have been so powerful as seeing my children do something special for others. To be both witness and recipient pushes the following into the stratosphere. And, it's a great song.

"Hold my hand" you said "look left and right
And be careful not to cross until there's not a car in sight"

"Now put the car in drive, take your foot off the break slowly.
Take your time"

People change, they come and go
But you've always been there to help me grow
Teaching me right from wrong, giving me a place to belong
And all the other little things you do,
I Love You

Do you remember when I was two feet small,
You'd put me on your shoulder and say, " Look you're so tall"
Don't think I forgot that I'm daddy's little girl, looking up to you,
My key into the world.

People change, they come and go
But you've always been there to help me grow
Teaching me right from wrong, giving me a place to belong
And all the other little things you do,
I Love You

It is a very good day to be me.

And that makes me happy.

Climb The Ropes

2011-10-18T09:21:00.002-04:00

I believe in setting goals. Even if I don't reach, them I like the practice of working towards something. A distance, a feat, a body of work, a specific outcome, a state of being, a personal best, a long term effort. I also believe in consistency "Persistently Consistent". The consistency of effort often makes goals achievable. We all know that the best way to get something big done is to take on a bit at a time and keep working at it til you finish.

As I think about here I actually can't think of any part of life that isn't worth having some current goal to work towards. Stronger relationships, better communication, harmony at work and home, better client relationships, increased sales results, more knowledge, work / life balance, more fun, peace. Wow this list could go on and on.

A little over a year ago I started following B5's daily workout. I had been getting myself in better shape and working hard to maintain flexibility in my back. A big part of my daily outlook can be set by the way my lower back is feeling. If it nags or hurts it can make sitting difficult, and I sit most of the day (commute, sit, office, sit, commute, sit).

One of the issues I have always had with exercise is lack of time. Leaving at 5:30AM and getting home at 7:00PM (or even 6:15 before I changed jobs) makes it very difficult to get a work out in. So after my summer "holidays" during which day time work outs were possible I had been reduced back to working out just on weekends. B5 was already training people and he started a Sunday in the Park group. He told me not to worry about paying him, "it's our golf" he told me so I started going. The massive discovery was that his workouts took only 25 minutes to complete and yet were harder than I ever pushed myself in a gym. I was hooked.

Shortly after this he started posting the WOD (work out of the day) on the web. First on Facebook then a Blog. He also started posting video's to explain the exercises. Then, he climbed the ropes.
With a friend B5 constructed an A-Frame in his backyard fitted out with long ropes, bars and all sorts of other torture tools. On his 40th birthday he posted a video thanking his friend for helping with construction. After this introduction he grabbed one 15 foot hanging rope in each hand and proceeded to climb. It was unbelievable to watch. His strength and confidence was so inspiring my immediate reaction was, "I must do that". And so I started working. I took advantage of the 25 minute workouts. "I can do 25 minutes, even a t 7PM". I worked up from weekends to average 4 or 5 days a week. And I kept those ropes in my head. Sunday's in the Park moved to B5's house to take advantage of all his "toys" and I got my shots at the ropes. Initially I could climb halfway up on one rope using arms and legs. Long way to go. That was then.
This is now. Today I turn 49 and as part of my celebration this Sunday we did 49 Burpees to end the workout at B5's. As everyone else filed out I walked to the A-frame, grabbed a rope in each hand and pulled. At the top I smiled.

Everyday we climb the ropes. There is always something, or someone to inspire us and today I am thankful for my many, many inspirations.

And that makes me happy.

So Much To Tell You

2011-10-17T06:35:00.001-04:00

I went to London and switched my phone to be able to get international data and voice. It didn't go so well. Blackberry had server issues so my IT guys weren't able to turn on email. When I got home and switched backed to my regular phone the internet wouldn't work.

At the same time my password to the company network expired so even as I sat at the home computer and new iPad (more later on that) I was in the dark for work mail. Nothing from about lunch time on Friday through this morning's commute.

So begins my week. And now I need to do a lot of clean up. Login, fix passwords, clear email, fix phone internet and hopefully be on time for any meetings scheduled during my black out.

I feel like I have a lot bottled up inside that I haven't been able to get out. I got home from London at about 12:30AM on Saturday and after a good 7 hours sleep I was moving most of the weekend.

I turn 49 this week and so I had a few things on the agenda. Dinner with Family and my Parents, exercise since I missed Wednesday through Friday, climb those ropes, and perhaps rest a bit. The dinner went very well. The girls surprised me with the previously mentioned iPad and yes, I climbed those ropes. (Tomorrow I will talk about this). Today I just need to try and catch up.

Today I play catch up (I am even running out of time completing this note on the commute) but I know I will get things settled and I will look back at my hectic weekend and smile.

And that makes me happy.

It Seems I'm Pretty Happy

2011-10-14T12:27:00.000-04:00

I was thinking the other day that it has likely been about a year that I have been writing these notes, so I checked last night and in fact it has. There are now 225 posts here reflecting everything from the foods I like to the time I spend with loved ones and the trials and tribulations of life working and commuting to the big city.

As I scanned through the varied subjects and reminded myself quickly of all those days and thoughts and ideas I realized that the unspoken point of all this writing has very much come to pass. Over 225 posts and 365 days I have been able to find daily parts of life that make me happy. In fact, it seems I am pretty happy!

Of course there have been frustrations and in many of my posts I have struggled to find (read convince myself) of some silver lining but the point is that I did it. From the little things to the big ideas and challenges I have found reason to smile.

I kind of feel like I should rattle off a few "Best of" titles like any silly TV show or has been rock act might, but instead I will just say, "I'm proud of myself for sticking with this diary and look forward to continuing the story".

Maybe one day the kids might read these notes or maybe even grandkids (wish). Even if that never happens the daily reflection time has been a great addition to my life.

And that makes me happy.

Open All Night

2011-10-13T12:13:00.000-04:00

I used to travel to London about once every six weeks. I did this over a period of about 5 years as I started one business and then another. I got very good at the over night travel routine and as I built up my "Status" with the airlines it got even easier as I enjoyed the benefits of arrival lounges and departure lounges and flatter bed seats.

For the first time in 3 years I have returned to this city that I love for a vey quick meet the troops two day visit. Having lost all that status and being part of a small management team I was very frugal in my travel plans. So it was that last night I spent the overnight flight tossing around a bit and upon arrival this morning I discovered the wonders of the public shower at Heathrow airport.

Maybe I am just excited to be here talking about our business and seeing my old neighborhoods after the three year absence but I didn't mind the travel. I didn't mind the showers. I didn't even freak out when I realized that I had booked the wrong day at my hotel and will have to duke it out with my finance guys. In fact, being in London while you are working for a US based company allows you to work close to a 24 hour day. By the time folks in the States were getting to work, I had already gotten myself here and situated, held a long conversation with the head of the office here and planned the remaining time here. I had responded to all of my over night email and made calls into the early arrivals back home. When the work day here is finished, I will continue working. I have a management meeting at Noon EDT and the notes and calls will continue until about 9:00pm local time. I'm hopful that I will be able to exercise tomorrow morning and that I can walk around South Kensington this evening and perhaps get a beer or two in a local pub, but more than anything I am very excited by the engergy in my life right now that allows me to stay Open All Night.

And that makes me happy.

Broken strings

2011-10-11T06:14:00.001-04:00

D2 was in a funk. She has been pushing against the boundaries lately. Lot's of aspiration but I fear not enough perspiration.

When she said she needed new guitar strings I offered to go with her to the music store just to get us out of the house. Not much conversation along the way but at least we were doing something. I also know that there's little better than hearing the sound of new strings on an acoustic guitar.

That night I noticed that one of the new strings had broken. It happens sometimes as you are tuning up. Without that string the instrument is incapable of achieving its full sound.

Seems like a metaphor in here somewhere.

A full set of new strings is like a well rehearsed symphony in my ear. Each note rings out and the combined sounds create a depth that isn't reached by the duller vibration in old, dirty strings. When one string is broken the whole suffers.

When there is a part of life that's not going well it tends to bring the other parts down. Focus shifts towards the downed part and keeps us from focusing on the good. Instead of hearing all the sounds that are there we listen instead for the missing note.
As I walked from a meeting back to my office I passed a music store and so went in and bought replacement strings knowing that D2 likely would not have made it to one. She needs the outlet and I want her focused on the important stuff.

If the solution is simple, just get it done. Remove the distraction from your "things to think about" and get back to the things that deserve your brain power. Simple lesson. Major outcome.

And that makes me happy.

Half Full

2011-10-10T06:35:00.001-04:00

Columbus Day, the city will be jammed with parade goers celebrating something that happened over 500 years ago. I wonder how many will think of the day this way. Rather, it is likely to be a celebration of Italian heritage. Funny, he was actual sent here by Spain.

On Columbus day most businesses are closed and so our boat in today is half empty, or half full. The empty I guess are the lucky ones. They are still asleep and have a beautiful Indian summer day waiting for the when they rise for a day of rest. The half full are those of us traditionally tied to the Equity markets, which are open today.

Half full, half empty. I like to think half full so today is like an extra day. I can get more done in what I know is going to be a busy week. I can move things forward and get people closer to decisions. I can add to our current push on sales and account management. And if I'm lucky I can see a bit of a parade. It's going to be a great day.

And that makes me happy.

You Somehow Already Know What You Are Supposed To Become

2011-10-07T20:16:00.001-04:00

I guess I have been carrying this one with me for a couple of days. It started the other morning when I heard the clip for the first time. Steve Jobs made the commencement speech for the 2005 graduating class at Stanford. My baby was there this summer. As he passed, the radio of course picked the portion of his speech dealing with death. What the context of radio left out was the other two thoughts he wanted to leave with people. You see death was not so much on his mind just then, I believe. He felt he had cheated it. He felt that he was the exception for a time, but he was reconciled to the reality of this "Killer App". And he embraced it.

The next few days brought me the you tube version and several TV inclusions of this same speech. Jon Stewart did a tribute that as often with Jon, looked past the headline or sensational sound bite. "ooh, there's a clip of Jobs talking about death and now he's dead". Instead Jon (and Steve Jobs) focused on getting the most out of Life. In that speech Jobs did speak about death but he also spoke about connecting the dots of your life to uncover your passion. And then he instructed, no forcefully demanded, of his impressionable college graduate audience that they not settle. He insisted that they look for the true calling of their lives, because every day spent not loving what you do and doing what you do should be a day moving toward these things. If they are not, you are wasting time. His message to all the impressionable minds in his audience was "don't give up on your dreams". "You somehow already know what you are supposed to become". This is unbelievably easy for a genius like Jobs to say. He was smarter than most of us and more creative than anyone of his generation. But his message was one of persistence rather than talent. If you already "know" deep inside what you are meant to become then life becomes about courage and persistence and faith and desire. Life becomes all the things we all think. All the things I write here.

As a near 50 year old, well almost 49 anyway, I was moved by his speech. Not because I felt bad that he was gone, but because I believe that you don't give up. I get up everyday and thank God that he has given me the strength to continue. There is a purpose for my life. I must make an example for my children. I must make a mark for the people who I influence professionally. I must be the best I can be. Of this I am certain.

So as this great man passed, and the Internet and television uncovered this sound bite, I wanted more. I wanted the whole story and thanks to Mary, as always, I heard it.

I have been carrying these feelings for several days. I'm not sure I got them all out here as I have been very stream of consciousness with this entry, but I hope you can feel the emotion. (i didn't know I could still type this fast).

Innovation will continue. Attention to detail will continue. Passionate people will continue to drive for something better and the world will continue on. For a man that got the idea for proportional fonts by auditing calligraphy classes after he dropped out of college because he knew his parents couldn't afford it can become a genius of his time. And we can all benefit from his ideas.

But more than anything we can benefit from his legacy. Watch the Stanford commencement speech. Be who you can be and become who you already know you should be. I am trying.

And that makes me happy.

Be Polite, Please

2011-10-06T06:32:00.002-04:00

I am in the process of hiring a handful of people across the group. In doing so we have taken many of the current day normal steps to get the jobs "out there". We have posted them in the business social network world and of course on our website. There are recruiters and our own outreach efforts.
So it's not clear to me how one "applicant" reached me but I will give her at least that much credit. There was a lengthy email in my inbox on Tuesday. I tried to give it a read, but as I scanned down I saw that the note was well over two pages long. I don't consider myself impatient but there was no way I was reading this whole missive. Before I pressed Delete I noticed that the final line stated that she would call me the next day to discuss. I get this a lot. People seem to have the best intentions when they write this follow up statement, but very few actually complete the thought. Into the Trash.
Wednesday was a very busy day. I interviewed 2 candidates, met with a potential partner, several team meetings, a train ride out to the 'burbs to visit a client, a very important contract got done and several phone calls to set up meetings for next week. When my phone rang in the midst of all this I snapped it up expecting some kind of short business conversation. I was wrong. It was "The Applicant". My first instinct was to cut her off some how. "I don't have time for this". Instead, I thought of the effort (even believing it was misguided) that went into the long email and I made a decision. "I will stop, be polite, and listen. And I did.
Ten minutes later, after a mostly irrelevant recounting of long gone Wall St. firms and name dropping (mostly guys that are dead now) like I haven't heard in a long time, I tried to redirect caller. I instructed her to tell me why she would be good at our job rather than just the litany of the past. I suggested that she provide me specifics about her skills and experience. Another 10 minutes and now I know that this person is not a candidate for a job with us so I try to disengage. No dice, she is still talking, not listening. This is a sales job people, if you can't listen, you can't sell.
Ultimately, I summoned the most polite, but firm words I could muster at the moment. "I want to thank you for your call, I have listened to your pitch, but don't feel you are a candidate. I will however go through your resume, since I hadn't prior to your call to make sure". Again, no dice. At this point I really felt like dropping the politeness routine as I believed she was not just persistent but insensitive to the needs of the person on the other end of her phone line (ME!). I didn't. I did however shut off her remaining lines of questioning and reiterated that she was not a candidate. She hung up.
It matters not what others do. I will be honest, consistent, and always polite. That's what my parents taught me to be.
And that makes me happy.

Four and "O" but Don't Get Ahead of Yourself

2011-10-05T06:30:00.002-04:00

I didn't get to exercise last night as I got home a bit too late. Mary was out, D2 on the phone (what else is new) and D3 was happy to be able to walk on her recovering foot so she was bouncing around a bit here and there. After I got dinner and tended to the Bonsai plants I sat down to consider the important stuff; Fantasy Football.

Due to a lot of luck in the schedule I am 4-0 and lead the league. I think I have done a good job putting my best team "on the field" each week and I have made a couple of key pickups to make my roster a fairly consistent points producer. So, even though I only have the 4th highest point total for the season, I am out front. As they say though, it's a long season.

I need to get to London. We need to make a couple of key decisions about pricing and the guy who runs our London office has, I believe, a lot of good ideas. I also need to bond with him. He's one of the original employees of the company and bristled mightily when they last tried to insert someone above him (like I am now). I also have to make sure he's happy. He keeps his cards very close to the vest and if he were to quit it would be close to catastrophic.

I have made huge progress already in our client facing team, but just as in the football world, it's still very early days. Already, I feel that the attitude of my team has turned positive and I see the signs of people taking initiative to build client relationships back up. We are winning, but...
In these posts I try to stay balanced, I am a libra after all. There is always good in a situation which I try to uncover and yet there is always room for improvement. I could very well win my FF league if luck continues to run my way. I will do my best to get there as silly as it seems. That's pure fun.

More importantly though I need to keep the positive momentum going in our business. I need to solidify London. I know it's the right priority even though it is a big travel time and expense commitment. Then I need to push on U.S. sales reps. They aren't working hard enough. I have a lot to do.
Every day is a new chance to win. I might be leading the league or feel like I am winning at work but I have to keep pushing. Celebrate the victories but get ready for next weekend.
I just picked up Victor Cruz as a sub for Santana Moss who has a Buy week and I will pull our CEO aside today to convince him about London. Prepare and execute.
And that makes me happy.

They Are the Clients After All

2011-10-04T06:23:00.001-04:00

We have already made good strides towards solidifying our business. The market remains dismal but we continue to make incremental sales and have at least a handful of accounts increasing their use of our service.

After about a month in the new chair I have laid bare a few of the unseen challenges and the biggest / brightest of these is our customer churn rate. Yes, we need to focus on new sales but in the short term we need to keep the customers we have. Somewhere along the line the company forgot how important it is to listen and deliver.

On Friday, I spent the day visiting clients in Los Angeles. In at least two of the meetings the client said we were the first people from the company they had met. These were both big customers. In others, we were able to meet new potential users of our service through introductions by happy existing users. Nothing better than an internal endorsement.
As always, it's the basic things we over look and yet it's the basic things that often matter most. I have a bunch of things to do to improve our churn but one thing is for sure, we won't lose a client again because they think we aren't listening. Before the end of this year I will get in front of at least our top 50 clients, face to face.
And that makes me happy.

Dinner with My Darlin

2011-10-03T06:16:00.001-04:00

I want her to still need me, but I don't want her to need me. It's easy to be selfish when it comes to my girls.

They are all beautiful and I have been part of their lives since each was born. Like most girls, I'm sure, they have had all the "important" conversations in their lives with their Mom. Initially this upset me as I felt left out. But over time I have developed a niche with each of them that brings us together and keeps us connected.

On Friday night, prior to heading to the airport for the red eye home, I was able to meet up with D1 for dinner. She is in the heat of Greek Week so was "hard at work" preparing for the charity sorority lip synch contest. With practice from 4 to 7 and then again from 9 to 12, we had to squeeze dinner and a visit in, and it did feel a bit hurried.

I am very glad to see her engaged. I would like to tell her to be that engaged with her classes, but it's not time for that. She wants me to hear all about the events of the weekend and I want to listen. As she makes her way through descriptions she touches on room mates and friends and rattles off her thoughts on each. I realize she is actually answering the questions I'm not asking and it reminds me how much she has grown (matured, I guess is more to the point, but since she's still my little girl I retain the right to think of her as still growing)

It was a short visit and we both felt it as I dropped back off at the dorm, but I dropped in on her life in full weekend mode so that's alright. She doesn't really need me anymore and that's a good thing. The fact that she still NEEDS me is now even more important. She can get what she needs from a brief visit and dinner. And I can get what I need in a single look at her face as she skips across a quad to hug me when I arrive.

And that makes me happy.

Boy Am I Up Early

2011-09-30T14:34:00.001-04:00

I wanted an easy spot to get to from the airport because I knew I would be tired when I got here. I also wanted cheap since this is my first trip on the new company's dime. So I ended up booking in a little hotel out near D1's school in a neighborhood that we know well at this point.

I am in Los Angeles. I arrived last night and got to the hotel at about 1:30am east coast time. After a quick exchange with my guy in Hong Kong I tried to get to sleep. This is where you truly understand the value of a nice hotel, which mine for the evening was not. The AC didn't really work. I read the directions, and followed them to no satisfaction. Thus the room retained that built in the 60's dank smell. The walls were thin, the doors all squeaked, etc., etc. I managed a few hours off and on and was even able to go back to sleep at 2:00am local which is my normal 5:00 east coast up time. But as normal, by 4 I was awake for the day.

I always picture LA as having an early start, thinking that a bunch of people work NYC hours or just want to beat the legendary traffic. Not so today at least.

I got up for good, after more east coast email at about 5. I went for a run / body weight circuit at a park locally (yep still dark). When I got in the car to avoid the traffic myself I was amazed at how clear the roads were. I found myself downtown in less than 20 minutes, and a good hour and a half early for my first meeting. Streets deserted, nothing open. What happened to the early view of LA.

Oh well, I have already done a half day's work, exercised and called home and it's only 8:00am.

And that makes me happy.

Nothing So Special

2011-09-29T07:41:00.001-04:00

There is a lot going on today. Mary will bring D3 into the City to have her foot operation. Hopefully minor. Hopefully smooth sailing. But certainly enough worry to go around. She has to go under general anesthetic so that gets the nerves up.

I am heading to LA tonight so had to arrange a ride for this morning. B3 was driving in so we spent a good hour or so together. Always nice and I hadn't seen him at all this week commuting. Got a parent's weekend report on my niece who's a freshman in college.

Lot's of transitional work today. I need to get my account management team fired up. Their boss is leaving us so I will have to step into this breach as well as the sales hole I'm in now. I am also spending time with the tech guys to talk through stats I am looking to track to see how we improve over time. We continue to interview and need to get an offer letter out to a young gentleman we hired the other day. The senior management team gets together again today at noon to continue our strategic discussions. I need to be the catalyst for a meeting about projects for prospective clients. And I need to hit the road to the airport by 4:30.

Hopefully it will all get done. I will have 5 hours to reflect on our progress while in the air and tomorrow I will see my first baby.

And that makes me happy.

Organizationalizing

2011-09-28T06:37:00.001-04:00

When it comes to building a team it always seems to me that it takes both internal and external efforts. The mix of recruiting new energetic people and revitalizing the members of the existing team is the tricky part. In addition, finding those folks that are burned out and should be gone is a vital early step.

Here's my approach so far in my new organization and perhaps a few thoughts on people. (To show that I am completely ready for this post I am wearing my Frog tie; as in, "you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince").

My group of the company interacts with our clients. We are the face and voice of the organization and there has been a bunch of turn over in the market turn down. So first and foremost I am making sure that the people in the seats have good attitudes and show outward signs of commitment to doing their best. I am spending time individually on client issues and coaching people on specific communications. And most of all I am listening. Where is there conflict? Where, if any, are the naysayers. I am also changing the mood as much as I can with my demeanor. I am upbeat and confident. I expect high quality outcomes and so I am being very careful to follow up with the team. I am exposing my personality and my personal life. I want people to know that I am working hard because I need to as well as want to. Finally, I am communicating a lot about the future both in group settings and when focused on one person. I want people to know where we are changing and why I think it will be good.

On the recruiting side I am mostly looking for attitude. I want people who will make an impact on both our business and our culture. I am pushing people in interviews to expose their motivations. I want to know that they have a store of drivers that will keep them pumping even if the energy level is low across the group.

Getting the team right will be the single biggest achievement of this first year. I am feeling good about my options even as the curve balls keep coming my way. I like the people we have and am looking forward to the lift in mojo.

And that makes me happy.