Two Things

Like you, we are watching helplessly as the west burns and the south floods. It’s so bad we saw the smoke here on the horizon last week. All is not well. Ughh.

Another rough week for our country in a rough year. I’m still long-run OFO but these are real challenges and I send you all a virtual elbow bump.

We also send our love to friends in the path but we can’t do much about fire and rain. What we CAN do is act locally to help mother nature wherever she makes you feel like a favorite child.

For me it’s Buzzards Bay. When I think of Buzzards Bay, I think of sailing upwind into chop powered by a 17-knot Southwest breeze. At sunset the breeze softens and fades into an oily orange sky.  Nothing better than the easy sail home, off the wind with friends. Gratitude finds me there.

I think of quick chilly dips with braver, younger swimmers in June and slower, more leisurely August swims – and even today – the occasional night swim.  Rum- inspired July date nights off Butlers point, wintry morning coffee and conversation at Old Landing with the car heater running — she is giving to us in every season.

The only fish I like on my boats are grilled fish but others rejoice in chasing stripers.  I remember a still, quiet Sunday morning a couple years ago when three of these beauties surprised me by darting right underneath my paddleboard in the clearest most beautifully-tinted water. Heartbeat skipping stuff. It was my kind of religion – the world was saying “all is well here, things are as they should be”.

Of course, it’s also true that Buzzards Bay is at risk.  Nitrogen, oil, declining forests and wetlands.  Lions and tigers and bears.

It’s just a little stone in the pond, but I’m joining a few hundred every-day-average-awesome people cycling around the Bay to raise funds to restore and protect clean water in our community. Thankfully, it’s an old story –banding together, we can create a ripple and begin to change one little part of what’s not “all well” in the world.

I would love your support (click here to help protect Buzzards Bay)and no worries if you can’t.  Embrace and cherish your own “Buzzards Bay.”

Keep moving in the direction of your dreams in spite of the circumstances.  Keep throwing stones.

Peace and Health and Clean Water.
OFO, Dan

All feedback is a gift. I learned that from Dr. Gerry Bell in god’s garden, Chapel Hill, North Carolina in the fall of 1994. Through the Covid lens, Marty McFly could do worse than to set the DeLorean time machine to the soft blue sky of that time and place.

Dr. Bell didn’t mean you should ACCEPT all feedback as “Truth.” He taught us to be hungry for all feedback AND then to sift it through a filter. The idea was to sort out the “noise” of dubious motivations and to tune into the “signal” of the honest insight of others. It’s not easy, but with a little courage, this is an essential component of upgrading our human software.

Recently, in a professional context unrelated to my facilitator day job, I got some feedback. I was told, “You can be a bit of a dreamer, a bit idealistic.” REALLY!?

Well, what the hell does he mean by that? It didn’t FEEL like a gift at the time. I came to terms with the feedback maturely and quickly, well… at least maturely…three weeks later.

To cut to the quick, yes, he’s right and I need to have a greater awareness of these traits AND I don’t think it keeps me from keeping my feet planted firmly on the ground. Thank you, again, Dr. Gerry Bell!

Fast forward to today. The sun is in, the sun is out. A huge greyish cloud rolls over, the atmosphere is thick and expectant. I was researching a topic on YouTube (seriously!) and a 2017 Coldplay video caught my eye. Now I know, dear readers, you may want to join a class action suit against Two Things for too many Coldplay references but please, roll with me here and watch the video.

The world is still in the middle of an unrelenting storm out there so as we head into the holiday weekend, let Emmanuel Kelly fill your cup. A couple of time stamps for you. At 1:54, Emmanuel’s world-class humanitarian mom, Moira Kelly, discovers that her son is in the stadium and is going to sing with Coldplay in front of 70,000 fans.

Second time stamp – After what most people would think was a once in a lifetime performance, at 8:33 Emmanuel says, “It’s going to happen again. I feel it and I know it.” Wow. I’ll have what he’s having!

The arc is long. It bends toward justice. It bends toward therapeutics and school openings, restaurants, bartenders, concerts, and football. It bends toward a vaccine. It bends toward more economic mobility and more understanding. It bends toward love. I know, I know, I KNOW! Such a dreamer. But aren’t you inspired by Emmanuel Kelly? It’s going to happen. I feel it and I know it.

I was in Miami, waiting for a plane to land on a sunny day outside a four-bay mechanic’s garage until a gang of modern pirate-like militia came in shooting long guns and wielding machetes. I woke up, thought
#classicpandemicnightmare, and then went downstairs to scroll Twitter. Sad (the Twitter part), but terrifyingly real.

And 2020’s version of March Madness is equal parts all of that. Sad. Terrifying. Real. Not nearly enough sugar to coat this state of affairs.

But there have been some great family moments, too. Two brothers making a light bulb-like discovery that they can actually enjoy one another’s company for many, many minutes.

Also, this happened: Dad and the boys settled in after dinner to watch “The Day After Tomorrow”. After ten minutes of being introduced to Mayanism and the film’s plot of the earth’s core melting leading to tectonic plate shifting (I know, Best Pandemic Parent of The Year Award goes to…), the nine-year-old, asked “Wait, is this The Day After Tomorrow?” GenX me, who had searched and found the movie on Netflix assured him, “Yes”. Well, here’s a hint for you all – when you search for “The Day After Tomorrow” don’t press play on the movie “2012” which comes up as “Titles Related to The Day After Tomorrow”. After the three of us became aware of this (err, as the credits rolled) I got to revel in the nine-year-old explode in a milk-through-the-nose, whole body two-minute giggle. “DAD, WE WATCHED THE WRONG MOVIE!!”

So what to do? Two thoughts for you. First, in Tom Friedman’s “Thank You For Being Late” (yes, I’m quite sure I’m referring to the correct book, thank you very much), he says we are in a new age of unprecedented accelerations (technology, globalization, and climate).

In this age, Friedman asserts, you may want (crave?!) to stand still or even go back to a simpler, less rapidly changing time. There was a time when static stability (think of the four-legged stability of a table) could be had. It’s just not possible to keep up with the technological and societal change in that mode. The only stability available to us now is dynamic stability – the stability that comes from moving forward like when you are riding a bike.

How does this relate to the stress of the moment? I feel the least bad when I am not standing still (scrolling Twitter, refreshing nyt.com every five minutes, worrying about the kids, the future, my 201k). I feel best when I am DOING SOMETHING (working productively, walking, writing, trying to keep up with Emma Lovewell). In other words, if you want stability, KEEP PEDALING! Keep moving forward, regardless.

The second thought is, and this is a 4:30 am thought – I think the only way I can get through this is just to decide to be OVERWHELMINGLY EFFING OPTIMISTIC. Not head in the sand…just OFO. Because, what’s the downside of that and what good does it to be in any other mode?

An early HBD to the spectacular KSC 🙂 and an ocean of gratitude and admiration for so many on the front lines. OFO, Dan

I know I said I was breaking up with January, but you know, March and everything… I started to think of all the good times and laughs January and I had and I went crawling back, but she had already moved on.

So what to do. Social distancing will give me some time to work out my own issues before trying to date another calendar month. If I’m honest, I do still find myself dreaming of a gorgeous, blue-skied and sunny July. The heart wants what it wants.

<Transition to the point of post here> I saw the author Tony Schwartz on YouTube TV last night #stayathomeeconomy and this is what he said, “This is a rare opportunity to recognize how much we all take for granted — and what really matters in our lives.”

It’s a Fraulein Maria moment in history. The dog is biting, the bee is stinging. It’s a healthy move to focus on our favorite things, and the gratitude we feel for them.

Here are some of mine, what are yours?

The sail out

K, H & O

Connection

Sibs, Sibs-in law, Family

Friends

Starting lines

Humor

The Kingston Mines (60614)

The “Honey I’m Home” Margarita with Clooney’s Tequila

Johnny Carson

Bobby Orr

Tom Petty

Key Lime Pie

John Irving

Seth Godin

Chapel Hill

BYC

Election Victory (1990 – 75 of 77 counties)

Tortilla Coast (400 First St. SE)

Sun on your face

Coca Cola

Philip Roth

Rockwood Music Hall (10002)

King Estate Pinot Noir

Coldplay

Lawrence O’Donnell

CHARLIE

Tar Heels

The Way We Were

Chicago guitar blues

Meaningful work with and for people that care

Leo’s BBQ (North Kelley, OKC)

Roger Smith Hotel

Being heard

Really listening

North Sound Virgin Gorda

SKEDADDLE

Charlize Theron

Anchored in skinny water southeast corner of Hadley Harbor

La Esquina (114 Kenmare St)

Tim Ferris Show

Walks (laughs) with Betty

JFK (the Prez, not the movie)

Just the right buzz

Boys playing on a Longboat Key beach

Sarah Harmer

Herman Wouk

Jaws

Lake Vineyard (Lagoon Pond)

The (oh so occasional) good ski turn

H&O smiles, hugs and kisses

Tom Brady

Paul Simon

Jerry Maguire

Alvin Toffler (AKA Nostrafreakingdamus)

Titos

Elizabeth Banks

Run DMC

February 3, 2002 (Vinatieri practically kicked it right to me!)

February 8, 2002 (First date)

Ian Bremmer

Swimming in water where I can see my toes

American Ground: Unbuilding the World Trade Center

At sea, going fast under the stars with the right gear and the right watchmate

Having written

The Tarheels

Gary’s (Cannon Mountain)

Kindness

Ed’s (gap) toothy grin

Bermuda Race finish

David Letterman

Mark Knopfler

Boat dates

Neuroscience

Liz Phair

Political economy

Cheeseburger on the deck of the Coral Beach Club

Clarinet Concerto in A Major 

Don’t quiz me ok? but most Mozart

Thinkers with something original to say

B.B. King

Meals at sea

Buddy Guy

Net-Givers

Naughty by Nature

Spirit-forward cocktails

Graciousness

James Taylor

Having run (now having ridden with Emma Lovewell)

Tom Petty

Toasted Blueberry Pop-Tarts with (a lot) of butter

Michael Lewis

Clock Room British Museum (Thanks Myron)

New add – Katie Porter!

New add – Springsteen’s Tunnel of Love and The Rising

Scallops (breadcrumbs and butter nothin fancy)

The whole Cooney 4 on a ski lift with not a ski glove missing

Winning a sailboat race

AMERICAN PRAYER

Netflix show Love is Blind (no, just joshing you)

A great sleep

Squash with Kate

Walks with Kate

News with Kate

Projects with Kate

Okay, okay…everything with Kate

The sail home

In this Coldplay video, we are introduced to the concept of Ubuntu. Watch the first 30 seconds.

The direct translation of Ubuntu is “humanity.” The first (beautifully wise) voice we hear in the video explains the concept further…

“To help others, your brothers, your sisters, even when they are strangers and you don’t know them, you are supposed to help them, that is Ubuntu.”

Even when they are strangers and you don’t know them, you are supposed to help them.

The world just changed. We saw it coming for a while but now it feels like we just hit third gear. Feels faster now.

We don’t know, and we don’t know what we don’t know, and we don’t know when we will know it. Google doesn’t know. Siri and Alexa…nope. In our know everything, buy anything (right this instant) world, there’s just no app for that.

If there was a pilot for the 8 billion of us on Blue Marble One, she might say, “Hi folks, this is your captain speaking. It’s going to get pretty bumpy here for awhile. We’ll do the best we can to steer around it but make sure you are buckled up, give your seatmate an elbow bump for good luck and we’ll get through it together.

Two paths diverged in the woods. Down one path will bring out the worst in us.

Down another is our chance to help our brothers and sisters, even if we don’t know them. That is Ubuntu.

I’m breaking up with January. It can take my whole CD collection, whatevs.

The month brought flu to our fiery fourth-grader, a pesky sinus infection, Christmas overspend, a fender-bender, impeachment, road warrior mileage, and dry skin. That was all before Coronavirus and Kobe and heartbreak in Calabasas.

Last weekend my partner in crime, the extraordinary KSC, and I had a big polyurethane project on the docket. This would be the second weekend in a row we were working non-stop in our paint shop garage adjacent to the urgent care center (the house).

This was a DIY chore, more grit and cocoa than Chip and Jo Jo. Getting started was the hardest part. Like the impeachment, each of us had opening arguments over the best way to arrange painting flow and multiple levels of drying racks. There were no witnesses called and, unlike what’s happening in D.C., not one cross word was uttered.

Kate’s idea worked well!

We soon found a rhythm, cranked up the tunes and ripped through it. On drying breaks between coats, we found a way to sneak in quick walks to escape the fumes and talk about all the incredibly sexy stuff *irony* going on in our lives. Walks have a way of generating the best talks.

On Sunday, my son shared the Kobe news right before I was getting in the car to head off for a business trip. We have been going through a Coldplay period around here and I listened to the new album, “Everyday Life” on the drive. Music has that magical power — the power to reach down to the good stuff – the best stuff in all of us. I thought about the bounty in my life. I thought about those gone in a blink in California…and there was Chris Martin encouraging us to “Hold Tight to Everyday Life”.

As I started to scan for the positive, it came easily. KSC had secretly filled up my gas tank so I wouldn’t have to make the stop I had foreseen, the inside painting jokes came back to memory, the fourth-grader had been fever free for the first time in a week, the roads were clear, and the car was warm. Everyday life. Hold tight!

Howdy, Two Things readers. I’m on the mend after back surgery. In the old days, I loved the endorphins from a runner’s high. A few days ago I felt euphoric over being able to get into bed without cringing pain. Our fragility at any given moment feels absurd when juxtaposed with our feats of strength but both conditions are equally “us”. When momentarily down for the count, it’s best just to laugh at our own expense. I’m grateful for a native Irish sensibility that knows no other way forward.

Humility has always been a characteristic I value highly, and in my recuperative mode, perhaps I’m acutely attuned for it. I’ve been a fan of David Brooks for over a decade and a recent speech of his spoke to me. He’s a brilliant and wildly successful New York Times Columnist and best-selling author. In a deeply brave way, he publicly confesses that his life went into a ditch in 2013.

He believes, and I agree, that the country, too, is in a social ditch. Our rates of depression, anxiety, suicide, and opioid addiction are off the charts. Last year, Fortune magazine reported that nearly half of all Americans feel lonely and isolated (younger people more so than older people). #technology?

What Brooks’ learned from his own experience is poignant, timely and important to be shared because he offers a hopeful prescription for getting us out of our collective ditch. The answer he says is acting locally, investing in the quality of our relationships and sacrificing together for mutual gains. You can watch the whole thing here on YouTube or sample a couple audio clips below before deciding if it’s worthy of your attention. Note: If you are reading on Gmail, you need to go here to listen to the clips.

As always, thanks for your friendship and readership!

Dan

Howdy, Two Things readers! It’s been a crazy couple of years. I didn’t write, I didn’t call but mostly I didn’t write – let’s get back to this blog for goodness sake. We’re going to get the Two Things flywheel turning and try some new stuff (stay tuned!). Hope you enjoy and thanks always for your friendship.

One of my first posts (below) was a cliff notes primer to a book called “Love and Death” and an ode to the author, my hero, the late Forrest Church. Sadly, Death has been our uninvited companion over the last couple years (the inimitable, friendship-savant Betty Cooney and the witty, ice cream-loving Ed Cooney – my mom and dad) and then this summer/fall we lost two wunderkinds…accomplished friends in the prime of their lives…moms at the center of family universes.

The memorial services were beautiful, chock full of love, music and remembrance.  Each story poured tenderly into already full hearts.  As we listened, we were focused on them AND we asked ourselves questions. Am I kind enough?  Am I adventurous enough?  Am I making the days count?  Egocentric or human, you decide but just keeping it real.

We miss them. We want them back. We love them. We hurt for their kids and spouses, sisters and brothers and their parents. We thank them for making us laugh and think and grow and now we thank them for inspiring to us to “Give more love away”.   

 

Love and Death Part 1

A Person: The late Forrest Church, Unitarian minister, author of “Love and Death.”

An Idea: Death is hard and unwelcome and yet it is the piper that will be paid by each of us.  At the same time, the “impermanence and fragility” of life is what makes it such a wondrous gift. Sooo… why can’t we talk about it? Forrest Church tells us in his beautiful final sermon of a book that “The only taboo left, the only subject almost no one dares to talk about in polite company, is not politics or sex or religion but death.”

Taboo or not, the bell tolls crisply into the big chill for people we love — family, parents of friends, our parents’ friends, friends and even, most tragically, children of friends. So how can we make the high price of our life worth it?  How can we live a life worthy of our death?  Forrest Church tells us that a life can only be measured by how much love you give away.  By how much love we give away. Yes! Not only do I buy it, I want to give Church a Big Papi hug for the simplicity and clarity that this yardstick offers.

The rest of Church’s mantra:

Want What You Have: Don’t focus on the sleep that you missed when the human puppy of a three-year-old comes into to your 3:00am bed and nuzzles into your armpit (and simultaneously kicks you in the ribs).  Just listen to every sweet breath and let your gratitude wash over you.  And when the real rain in your life comes, don’t let it crowd out all that is still good.

Do What You Can: Not climb every mountain, but first, climb ONE mountain. Be ambitious but focus on the attainable.  Do what you can, not more and not less.

Be Who You Are: Be your authentic self, not somebody else’s version of you.  Respect and use your own talents and don’t waste time envying the gifts of others.

Last August a whole gang of fun, typically far-flung families on my wife’s side gathered to reunion in spectacular Wyoming.   I was an out-law who lives for the ocean and our short New England sailing season.  I had never.. ever… even been on a horse much less ridden up hills and through streams.  I thought, well,  I’ll give it a try but prepared to read more than usual in what I knew would be beautiful country.

You can guess the rest — we rode horses every day and loved the openness, the smell of the earth,  the crisp winds and the occasional cool raindrop.  We felt grateful to be open enough to love it, even embracing the challenge of getting my horse, Bear, to walk in equal proportion to chomping grass.  Who knew Bear would be so good for my triceps.

In music, there are beats per measure and tempo to set the mood.  The calendar has the same power over me and mid-August brings me to a wistful place.  We’re relaxed from the summer’s warmth but also pensive and excited about the demands of the coming season. We long to go backward and forward all at once.

The first day at the ranch we were told that we would be asked to contribute a short poem or song at the final campfire.  It feels like a good mid-August thing to share it.

 

Cowboys and Sailors

Daybreak had barely broken, safety talk just complete

Piper threw out the challenge, Cowboy poetry was Friday’s treat

Oh great, I sighed, another test, didn’t we come here to relax?

I’ll have to ride Bear up the mountain, then make the verses poetically wax;

 

Now, I’m a sailor not a cowboy, I think that’s plain to see

I ride horses in foul weather gear, giddy up and hard -a- lee!

But high up on the Mesa, where the breezy silence sings

You trade yesterdays and tomorrows for a moment…and it’s the moment that gives you wings;

 

I’ll miss Elvis, the Brits, even Bear,

I’ll miss the blues, grays and purpely greens

Cool mornings, kick-the-can evenings,

Halbys, Schaefers and cousins in between;

 

And I think sailors and cowboys are alike much more than not,

A weather eye, a ready knife, and a clove hitch in a tricky spot

And we both seek the far horizon, where the open wild beckons

One rides, the other sails toward it, we’ll meet there again someday I reckon