Under The Tuscan Neon

Have you ever seen "Under The Tuscan Sun" with Diane Lane? 

It's a beautiful film about a woman who is lost and finds herself again in golden Tuscany. 

As we watch her slowly regain her footing in life, she continues to look out her window and catches a glimpse of an older man who also appears lost as he sadly puts flowers out on a pedestal. 

He was mourning the loss of his wife. 

Last night, at our favorite watering hole, my wife noticed an older man at the bar and said "That's the man from Under the Tuscan Sun." Not literally, but figurately.  My wife said he was looking for something. There was a sadness in him.  My wife noticed his book and engaged in conversation.  It turns out his wife was in the hospital in critical care after open heart surgery. 

My wife was so right.  The random stranger in the bar was hurting. As we talked to him into the night, he talked about his architecture career, his love of trains, and life with his wife Helen.  His sadness ceased growing for a moment in time. 

Once again, art imitated life. 

Once Diane Lane's character starts to really find herself, she finally catches the eye of the old man and he doffs his cap in acknowledgment as if to say "I see you and I know you have hurt too." 

I've often talked about human connections and how important they are. However random they appear, they serve a purpose. 

Bar neon or a Tuscan sun.

Both shine light into darkness. 

Scar Tissue

 

You aren't sure how it happened.  You aren't sure where it happened. But, nevertheless, it indeed happened. 

The pain was real.  And in the moment, in the actual heat of the moment, you couldn't fathom how long you could endure. 

But then, without warning, and seemingly without origin, the pain lessened. The clouds moved away and the sun, indeed, did come up again. 

Minutes turn into hours and hours turn into days and before you know it, the wound is healed.  Except one thing lingered; a scar. A simple, yet complex reminder of what was and what you had to do to get to what will be. 

A scar is not a defect.  A scar is not a blemish.  A scar is a beautiful symbol of endurance, strength, of challenges, won and lost from days gone by.  It's the outward-facing reminder of what is inside of us. It's what allows us to remember the past, not live in it and it propels us forward. 

Don't look down on your scars. Don't cover up your scars. Celebrate them and take pride in the healing that you have created. 

Sometimes they do fade, sometimes not. 

All good either way. 

Two Roads Diverged...

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, 
And sorry I could not travel both 
And be one traveler, long I stood 
And looked down one as far as I could 
To where it bent in the undergrowth

Of course, that is the beginning of Robert Frost's beautiful versification "The Road Not Taken." 

I've always related to Frost and this specific piece of poetry because of the final stage of the verse...

"two roads diverged in a wood, and I...I took the one less traveled by and that has made all the difference."

As I sit in the Autumn of the year and look back at how I got here, I realize...I have taken the one less traveled.  

Whether it be a choice made for me or a choice made on my own, there haven't been a lot of passersby on this trail.  Every once in a while, a random straggler shows up but for the most part, I have been Sal Paradise sans Dean Moriarty. 

And that has made all the difference. 

Regrets?  I've had a few.  But, overall, not a bad trip at all. 

The road is life.  Enjoy the ride. 

Too Many Mutha'uckas

 

Too many Mutha'uckas 'uckin' with my shi-

Bret McKenzie and Jermaine Clement, otherwise known as the Flight of the Conchords, created this quintessential anthem in 2008, which resonates with us all. "Too Many Mutha'uckas" takes us through a day in the life of Bret and Jermaine, who are just trying to get by but there are way too many passer-by personalities that try to "uck with their shi-."

We've all been there. 

We are just rolling along on the carousel of life, moving things forward, getting stuff done, when all of a sudden, someone comes in and hits the emergency stop button on the ride.  All momentum is lost, time is wasted, and you can't pass Go until you pay your toll to those with other agendas. 

They could be jealousy-driven agendas, insecure agendas, imaginary agendas, or just plain stupid agendas (naive agendas are a totally different animal and certainly allowed). 

But in the end, it's just way too many Mutha'uckas 'uckin' with our shi- and there is nothing we can do about it but plug in another quarter and wait for the ride to start back up. 

The inevitability of life...way too many Mutha'uckas. 

Side note; a really good way to forget about Mutha'uckas is to schedule some much-needed business time. 

Is Anyone Sitting Here?

Damnit. 

The call. 

The heart exploded. 

The head tried to repair. 

I’ve been here. 

The moving memory. 

The threats. 

Camelot saved. 

The forever loving bond. 

The collateral. 

Radio silence. 

Damnit. 

I’m here. 

Why You Play The Game

When I feel that chill...smell that fresh cut grass.  Back in my helmet, cleats, and shoulder pads. Standing in the huddle, listening to the call.  Fans going crazy for the Boys of Fall. 

Kenny Chesney described what it's like to be one of the boys of Fall to a T.  

The emotions during the game.  The brotherhood of the team.  The cachet of wearing your jersey down the school hall.  The glow of Friday night lights. 

There is so much more that comes with it though.  Being a role model.  Being able to ignite a smile. Being able to help kids dream.  Being able to show others a path.  

If you do wear that jersey on Friday nights, Saturdays, or even Sundays, realize the impact you can make off the field. 

Life is a mix of a two-minute offense and a four-minute offense all at once. 

Touchdown. 

Lester

You meet all kinds of people on the road of life when the road is your path. 

About 10 years ago, Lester serendipitously entered my life (I have no idea of his last name).  It was as if he got into the car and sat in the passenger seat from that point forward. Lester wasn't Dean Moriarty to my Sal Paradise but the road was different because of him. 

I was staying at a hotel and was spending my morn at the complimentary breakfast eating the usual fare of cold scrambled eggs and coffee, and needed some water (if memory serves me, I might have been up late the night before).  There was no water to be found and I was struggling a bit.  Lester was working at the hotel and I queried him for some hydration.  He bemoaned the fact that he had told the powers that be that they should have a pitcher of water handy but they never listened to him.  Several minutes later, Lester appeared with a pitcher and handed it to me and my morning fogginess started to dissipate.

I would see Lester every now and then and he would impart such lessons as; 

• Don't overthink things. 
• Don't be outworked. 
• Find pleasure in the little things. 
• Find a hobby that satisfies your creative side. 
• Don't look in too many corners for advice.

Recently, my wife and I saw Lester walking home.  He invited us into his house to see his woodworking projects. 

We stayed and visited for quite a while.  Lester told us about growing up in a foster home.  He talked about his disabilities and how he tried to not let them stop him from doing what he enjoyed.  He also shared that his new landlord has told him to find a new home after being there for 28 years (the new landlord didn't like the fact he did woodworking in his basement)  I shared with him how much my visits with him impacted my life.  As we were about to leave, Lester started tearing up.  We told him we would check on him again soon. 

We most definitely will. 

You never know who you will meet on the road and what conversations and lessons get sparked. And you never know how life can change because of human touchpoints.    

Sometimes, those who don't look the part, impart the most wisdom.  

Lester thinks of himself as a simple man. I think of Lester as one of the smartest people I know. 

Thanks for the water, Lester.  

 

What Stirs You?

 

Margaritas, Daiquris, and Mojitos. 

Just a smattering of drinks that use a stir stick (affectionately known as a Swizzle stick). 

The stir stick is used to make the ingredients in a cocktail come to life.  It brings the flavors to the forefront. It leads to the climax of the taste. 

Straight up or on the rocks, the Swizzle makes it all work. It's not the cocktail you want without this finishing touch.  

Life is one big cocktail.  Bring it to life. 

Make it what you want and swizzle the hell out of it. Take the individual ingredients and make it life's double bubble.  

Belly up to the bar, don't wait for the last call, and make it the best effin Happy Hour you can. 

Cheers! 

The Power of Vulnerability

 

 

Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. 

Yes, the favorite son of Krypton, it's Superman. 

Superman had several powers. One of the mightiest of heroes. Invulnerability was one of the more prominent tools in Supe's tool belt; being immune or highly resistant to damage, hurt, injury, or disease. 

Since it is highly doubtful that a tiny spacecraft carrying a mighty Kryptonian infant is going to make its way into our solar system anytime soon, finding someone with invulnerability is going to be a tall task. 

So, let's look at the power of vulnerability. 

To be vulnerable is inherently human but it's not a weakness. It's not an Achilles' heel. It's not kryptonite. 

It's a gift and it's so powerful. 

To be vulnerable to others is the ultimate trust fall.  When you care about someone...when you love someone so powerfully that you can be vulnerable to them, you can drink the elixir that can lead to healing and growth. 

Open up.  Let it out. Be human and show your power of vulnerability.  You will be ok. 

It's kinda super...to be Clark Kent. 

Blank Walls, Cleaning, and Cleansing

Beers for the buds. 

Towels and blankets. 

Goodwill trips. 

When was the last time you used that Openfly vegetable corer tool anyway? 

Yup...it's time to move again. 

The stroll down memory lane is part nostalgic, part closure, and part life-loofah. 

We've all been there.  What was familiar, isn't anymore.  What was home, is just an address. Even your Google Maps are confused. 

Exhilarating, exhausting, exhaling. 

Door closing...door opening kind of stuff. 

It's change, baby.  Roll with it. Onto the next step. 

As Alan Watts once said...

 "The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it and join the dance."

May I have this dance? 

PS; It sure does help coaching football.  Players and coaches usually know how to move! 

What'll You Have?

One part therapist. 

One part advisor. 

One part chemist. 

One part best friend. 

All the parts add up to constitute your local barkeep. 

Truth be told, a good bartender makes the bar.  

I've spent time on both sides of the bar in my life and I've come up with the perfect concoction for what makes the best mixologist. 

• Good listener
• Smart 
• Attentive

And for F-sake...read the room.  

There are times when one needs to be alone to read, work, or contemplate life while peering into the depths of his whisky.  And, then there are times when companionship, advice, and fellowship are required.  

Here's a tip...hone that Spidey sense of what is needed and when.  More tips will follow. 

What'll you have? 

Chapters

 

Roller Coasters. 

Music. 

Dancing. 

Carousels. 

All intelligent and intuitive analogies for life. 

Time to hit the library...

Several pages of my life are turning over in the wind.  Pages turn into chapters. Chapters turn into books.  The wind howls. 

I took some time to seek shelter from the gale. And, realized, this is life. Words blur and pages turn and before you know it, you are there...at the conclusion. 

But this book has many volumes.  The epilogue and prologue are on rinse and repeat.  

But the point of the book is the same as the roller coaster, the song, the dance, or the carousel.  It's not the end, but the process that's the real adventure.  Enjoy it. Read it.  Soak it in. 

Don't worry about the overdue fines.  Just, dig in. 

PS; there is nothing better than turning the page of a real book, while on a beach.  Nothing like a little sand between your pages. 

Trond and Enuc

 

They sound like characters in a Marvel movie or the next iteration of Lord of the Rings. But rest assured, they are very real people.

One is a tour guide in Iceland.  The other is a tour guide in Costa Rica. One is a large Norseman who resembles a long-lost brother of Thor.  And the other, a standing member of Menudo. 

So different, yet also so alike. 

Both had a sense of adventure but took great care of their guests. Both were extremely knowledgeable but did not have an ounce of patronization. 

You sensed both suffered through their own trials, pains, and loss. You sensed both spent time searching for their answers. Searching for their own guides. 

You also sensed an inner peace while on their own trails. An inner peace with their human connections with those that start as strangers but end as teammates or partners in adventures. 

Life itself is the greatest adventure or tour ever created. So, allow yourself to be led by trusted guides but also explore, so that one day, you become the guide and can lead others. 

Watch your step. 

X's and O's and XOXO

 

"A good coach can change a game. A great coach can change a life." 

The great John Wooden. 

Simply put. Eloquently said. 

The job of a coach transcends the work on the field or court.  The lessons apply to the game of life. Everyday day living and learning. 

A good coach certainly knows the fundamentals of the sport. The X's and O's.  A great coach though, knows the fundamentals of the player.  At the very core, one has to show they care. Truly care about the individual as a person.  Genuine love.  

Once you combine these, you can't lose. The final score will ring true. In sports, and in life. 

Scoreboard. 

AI? Aye-Yi-Yi

 

AI 

Artificial intelligence.  No matter where you are or what you do in life, AI is buzzing around our Broca and Wernicke areas like gnats around the eerie blue light of the bug zapper in our backyard. 

We hear about how it will affect everything.  

Redefine the game. Change the rules. Rewire the hard drive of life.  

No doubt. 

But just like the grainy feeling of sand on an actual paperback novel page as you read on the beach, AI is no substitute for the real thing. 

It seems the further we push the envelope with technology, the further away we get from the actual feeling of an envelope. 

No matter how we progress, there is no higher bar than; 

• A caress
• A hug
• A whisper
• A kiss 
• A tear 
• A smile 
• A glance
• A touch...
• A thought

Advance, but don't forget, EI is always stronger than AI. 

Feel.  Always, feel.  

Clear the Mechanism

 

Billy Chapel. 

The iconic character in "For Love of the Game." 

As he prepares to dig in for his starting assignment against the Yankees, you get a peek behind his mental curtain on the mound. 

"Clear the mechanism." 

Chapel says this to himself to block out the noise so he can focus on the task at hand. 

It's a powerful mindset.  Not easy to do, but when successful, it's gold. 

We have so much noise in our lives.  Coming from outside and inside. To insulate oneself from it all is the key to the kingdom.  

Find your own path to clear the mechanism.  When the noise is deadened, it's well-oiled. When the noise overflows, we no longer can prosper. 

"Clear the mechanism."

Strike three! 

The Circle of Mistakes

 

Several years ago, I made a big mistake.  Not my only one mind you, but a memorable one that I learned from.  

A younger friend of mine made the same mistake. He admitted it to our group because it was better for him to share than for us to find out. I gave him the headline at the time that I made the same mistake and that we understood. 

He reached out recently to talk about the mistake again. His was still fresh.  Mine was much older.  Mine already had cobwebs growing on it and you could see a tinge of rust but nevertheless, still clear in my mind. 

That's the thing about mistakes.  We all make them.  Hopefully, we learn from them and move on.  

But more importantly, maybe we can help someone weather the eye of the storm of their mistake. 

I was able to bring perspective and experience to my conversation with my younger friend. Hopefully, my post-storm, rearview mirror look helped him through his front windshield view. 

If my mistake became his GPS on how to get through his, then the circle of life worked. 

Circle of life. Circle of mistakes. 

Same thing. 

The Tiniest of Slivers

 

We only need a sliver. 

A hairline barely visible to the naked eye. 

Strain if need be to see it. 

During the darkest of times, focus on that small crack of light. 

It can guide you through the clouds. 

But, the clouds do serve a purpose.  Without the blanket of pain or adversity, the comforting hand of hope is powerless. The beauty of the light doesn't shine. 

Know the clouds will come. But, also know the flickering will ignite. 

Death and life.  Tears and smiles. 

Feel. 

The Lost and Found

 

A virtual potpourri of nostalgia. 

Some of it is not even remembered by anyone. 

Some of it is remembered by a few. 

The random box in the corner you would find at a multitude of public destinations.  Stores, hotels, venues, etc. 

The lost and found. 

For the purpose of this narrative though, we'll look at the lost and found that matters most.  Not the one full of stuff.  The one that's full of life. 

Life is about the lost and found. 

We've all lost and have felt lost.  Most of us eventually find and have felt found. 

When you are lost, keep searching for the found. It's there. Sometimes, in the most unlikely corners of the world but it's there. "When one door closes..."

Gary Clark and John Carney created a beautiful song entitled, "The Lost and Found."  Give it a listen...

There's a light. You never get back. Once it dies. 

And it's alive. And it's waiting for us.  At the lost and found. 

At the lost and found. 

Regrets? I’ve Had a Few

 

Ol’ Blue Eyes said it best. 

“I did it my way.” 

That’s the only way to go. 

And, yes, he admits…”regrets, I’ve had a few.” 

Same (don’t worry, no laundry lists to follow). 

When someone says “no regrets,” they are lying.  It’s Ok.  You’re human. It’s allowed. It’s inherent to our species. 

This song has been on the turntable of my life almost from the first time the needle touched the vinyl and you heard the white noise of the friction. 

Most of us have gone The Chairman of the Board on our own lives. Or for those with a different artistic palette, how about Robert Frost?  “I took the one less traveled by.” It’s the only way to go. 

But here’s the thing…

Win the hours of the day.  Win the days of the month.  Win the months of the year.  But win it your way. 

As Frank said, “ I'm gonna live till I die.” 

You should do the same.  But, do it your way. 

Epilogue; One personal anecdote about this tune. When I moved an incompetent manager in the company down, he played this song at our company Christmas party and dedicated it to me.  Yes, Brent, I did. 

A Duo, A Trio, or A Quartet?

 

The Dave Brubeck Trio. 

A wonderfully talented trifecta of musicians from the 60s that produced an eclectic mix of jazz fusion and non-lyrical beatnik melodies. 

The quintessence of cool. 

What's your jam? 

A duo, a trio, or a quartet? 

The dynamic is different for sure. 

A duo is 50/50.  Parts being equal. 

A trio is unbalanced. 

A quartet is weighted. The teeter-totter can tilt or remain steady. 

For me, it's the unbalanced magic of the trio. It breaks through the same old, same old.  It shocks Broca and sticks. 

Take Five...

 

The Longest Shortest Month of the Year

 

28 Days (29 if we are in a Leap Year). 

How can it be that the shortest month of the year, always feels like the longest? 

These 672 hours are eternal. 

Winter holds on by a coarse thread and Spring still can't be seen within telescopic view.  No holidays to celebrate (Valentine's Day doesn't count), the darkness lingers, and the hamster wheel continues to go round and round. 

Groundhog Day, over and over. 

Tears seem to lurk around every corner. Sadness is inevitable. 

But, fear not, as it is a temporary malady.  Without it, we can't March on. It serves a purpose.  

Just as the mud serves the Lotus. 

Life; It's Shaken. Not Stirred.

Reflections. 

Reserved. 

Sitting in a local Michigan establishment that I frequented over 10 years ago. 

Checking the rearview mirror and the blind spots. Soaking in the hour which is happiest.  Taking a peek at the telescope. 

Random thoughts...

Hotel Rooms. I like them. Uncommonly comfortable. 

Growth.  Personal. Love seeing it (except my weight). 

Coaching.  A true program makes a true difference. 

Regret.  It's there, but it can't dominate.  Learn. 

Memories.  Keep them in high res, but keep them in the past. 

Humans.  We all need to connect.  We all need to talk.  Do it. 

Loss.  All have it, but all is not lost. 

Gratitude.  Abundance. 

My Wife.  The tallest. The smartest. The sexiest. 

My Kids.  Unique, and always amazing. Love. 

Sunsets/Rises.  So damn beautiful.  Watch every one. 

Football.  Best sport. Ever. 

Perspective. The teeter-totter of life. 

Shaken, not stirred. 

Check, please. 

The Smart of a Woman

 "Hoo-ah!" 

Admit it. 

You all immediately transported and became Lieutenant Colonel Frank Slade when you read that. 

It's not even a real word but you knew what it meant.  

"If you get all tangled up, just tango on. Scent is such a powerful tool of attraction, that if a woman has this tool perfectly tuned, she needs no other.  I will forgive her for a large nose, a cleft lip, even crossed eyes; and I'll bathe in the jouissance of her intoxicating odour." 

Lt. Colonel Slade nailed it but lest we forget the 'smart of a woman' as well. 

Smart is sexy.

Period. End of discussion. 

If you are lucky enough to have a smart woman in your life, embrace it, listen to her, and shower in her beautiful wisdom. 

We all can be blind sometimes but still try and see. 

"Hoo-ah" 

I'm Listening...

 

"I'm listening..." 

The immortal words of Dr. Frasier Crane. 

Spoken to hundreds if not thousands of faceless patients on the good Doctor's radio show. 

Even though Frasier's advice was most often not recommended by the American Psychiatric Association, he was still there for most. 

Several people I know see a counselor or therapist on a regular basis.  

I have in the past on a situational basis and I found it a healthy way to process. 

We all need human connections.  We all need conversation.  We all need a little help sometimes. 

Damn the societal stigmas. Reach out. 

Tossed salads and scrambled eggs...

all over the place.