Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • The Upside Down

      This year is a bit upside down.  Winter came before the oak leaves came down in the form of a couple of early snowfalls and freezing temperatures.  Then came the rains that washed away the snow but left a brown landscape of dead leaves, bare trees and Christmas decorations.  In truth, this isn’t an unusual year for New England.  The weather always seems a little screwy.  But it just seems a bit more screwy than ever before.

      “And it’s been a long December and there’s reason to believe
      Maybe this year will be better than the last
      I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
      To hold on to these moments as they pass”
                                                                        – Counting Crows, A Long December

      Eventually when we hit December these Counting Crows lyrics run through my head at least a couple of times.  While my life isn’t as, uh, melancholy as this song, reflecting on the year and looking ahead with a measure of hope towards the new year are a rite of passage.  But 2018 has been a challenging year in many ways.  Too many great people passing away.  Too much Trump (any amount of Trump is too much).  Too much bad news about mass shootings and climate change and immigrants getting tear gassed and corporate greed.  Parents and pets getting older and having struggles along the way.  The nest is empty, and other empty nester friends are taking flight themselves.  No doubt, 2018 was challenging.

      And yet, it’s been a great year in many ways.  Visits to interesting places near and far.  Quality moments with extraordinary people.  Better career opportunities for both Kris and me.  I’m doing more reading and writing and appreciating the things that make life great.  We’re appreciating time with Ian and Emily and watching them grow further into adulthood.  I’m doing my best to hold on to these moments as they pass.

    • Dancing with an Elephant, Darwinism and Missing a Ghost

      In Buffalo for work, I debated dancing with an elephant or walking in the footsteps of a ghost.  With better planning I could have done both.  They say we all have one life, and to make the most of the opportunities you’re presented with.  I confess to not taking full advantage of that over the years.  The way the day was shaping up, I had the opportunity to hit a couple of local points of interest while in the area.  Or work a little more at my desk in the hotel.  I know which I’d regret on my deathbed and chose wisely.

      Niagara Falls is a well-known elephant that everyone should dance with at least once in their lives.  I’ve danced with the falls on several occasions before.  But I’d never gone there in winter.  So I got up and out of the hotel early and drove out to Prospect Point at Niagara Falls State Park.  I walked in with one of the park employees who was going to work.  The park is open 24 hours a day but on a cold, wet morning in late November who the heck is going to go there pre-dawn?  Only the security patrols know for sure.  And in the Niagara Falls neighborhood, I’m sure they have some doozies.  I’m probably on that list now myself.

      The view of the American Falls from Prospect Point is spectacular.  This was the dance with the elephant that I’d had in mind when I debated the side trip the night before.  With a distinct chill in the air, the mist rising from the crashing falls was beautiful.  This view alone was worth the 20 minute drive out from the hotel.  And perhaps I should have stopped on this high note.

      I should mention that while I was in the car, I’d contemplated putting on either the boots I’d brought with me or the running shoes that I had for the hotel treadmill I ignored.  I also scrutinized the winter hat and gloves that I’d brought for this weather.  In a move of questionable, Darwinian logic, I chose to just keep my dress shoes on and skip the hat and gloves.  After all, I was only going to be there for a short time before I went to my first meeting of the day, so why take the two minutes to change shoes?  And why get hat head before your meeting?  This is the very logic that precedes business tourist tragedies.

      My first clue that my logic was bad was when I hit a patch of ice walking to view the falls at the American Falls viewing area.  The park service did a decent job of clearing and salting the walkways, but things melt overnight and refreeze, and that’s exactly what I found with my leather soled dress black shoes.  But I pressed on and had a nice photo of the falls to post on Instagram.  Mission accomplished?  For the responsible, reasoned and experienced traveller for sure.  In this moment I omitted responsibility and reason and thought to myself, if you got this spectacular picture at Prospect Point of the American Falls, imagine how good a photo you might get over at Terrapin Point of the Horseshoe Falls?

      Looking over at Goat Island and then down at my footwear, I had another moment of false hope for my future where I thought that no, this wouldn’t be a good life choice.  Go back to the car, drive over to Goat Island, put on better footwear and then if you’re still insistent go see the Horseshoe Falls.  Better yet, go get a coffee and celebrate having this small victory.

      Instead I pressed on, shuffling across the frosted sheet metal of the pedestrian bridge, hands pressed deep in my coat pockets against the cold, and over to the very quiet Goat Island.  The few tourists I did see were dressed in winter-appropriate clothes and footwear, and were certainly wondering who the idiot was dressed for a sales meeting shuffling about on a cold morning in Niagara Falls.  I was wondering that myself.  But since I’d come all this way, I was going to get that picture at Terrapin Point, damn it, as a reward for my stubborn persistence.

      In the back of my mind from the moment I thought up this idea the night before, across the frozen tundra and the treacherous white water of the American Rapids, and then shuffling along the icy walkways where the mist from the falls froze on the paved paths, that there’s no way that the park service would have Terrapin Point open.  It would be way too dangerous having tourists on a sheet of ice inches away from the falls.  People die in summertime when they lean over too far to take a picture.  In winter?  Forget it.  Self-selection is a great theory but who’s going to clean up the mess?  No chance at all it’s going to be open.  And sure enough…

      I laughed to myself, or rather at myself and shuffled the 20 minutes back to where I parked my car where I toweled off my black dress shoes and cranked the heat to the highest setting.  I’d survived my flawed logic and can laugh at myself, but I know I was pretty lucky for a dumb ass business traveller.

      This ill-fated side trip to Terrapin Point ate into the available time I had for my dance with a ghost.  So saved for another day is a stop at the plaque memorializing the spot where President McKinley was assassinated at the Pan-American Exposition on September 6, 1901.  I’d come across the McKinley Memorial in Canton, Ohio several years ago and was struck by his story.  So learning about this small memorial in Buffalo was almost as alluring to me as going to see the falls.

      The Pan-American Expo was a big deal at the time, and there was a big fight for it between Niagara Falls and Buffalo.  Due to better transportation options in Buffalo and maybe some political muscling, Buffalo won out.  The Exposition showcased technology like X-Rays and electric lights, things that they neglected to use to save the President when he was shot by an anarchist at the Temple of Music.

      Like most expos, the buildings were torn down long ago, and that site is now a neighborhood with a small median of grass where the memorial is.  It’s nothing like the spectacular waterfalls I saw.  But there’s a whisper of history there that I’d like to feel on another day.  How many such memorials do we breeze by, not realizing the stories and the lives of those that came before us?  I’m not a “ghost” kind of guy, but I like to walk in the footsteps of history and better understand those who stood there before me.  Capra on Wednesday on Bridge Street in Seneca Falls, McKinley on Fordham Street in Buffalo was to be Thursday.  But alas, adventure is time-consuming and my career called me back to reality.  Perhaps another day.

    • Seneca Falls: Birthplace of Women’s Rights

      If time allows when I visit a town I try to dig into the history of the place and learn something about it.  I think of it as dancing with the ghosts of history.  And there’s no shortage of history in the northeast.

      Seneca Falls is famous for two things.  As I wrote about in my previous post it was the inspiration for Bedford Falls, the town in the movie It’s a Wonderful Life, and the bridge inspired the scene with George saving Clarence.  The second, or more appropriately, the first thing that Seneca Falls is known for is it’s role in Women’s Suffrage.  Seneca Falls was the birthplace of the Women’s Rights Movement in America.

      In 1848 the first Women’s Rights Convention was held at Wesleyan Chapel in Seneca Falls.  300 attendees participated, and five notable women spoke.  The attendees included a mix of women and men, and one notable black participant; Frederick Douglas.  Douglas encouraged the women to include the right to vote in their Declaration of Sentiments.  This document was a highly controversial statement at a time when women were largely seen as inferior to men.  The convention inspired others soon after in Rochester, New York and in Worcester, Massachusetts and opened up the minds of many that women were equal to men.

      It would be another 71 years before Congress gave women the right to vote, and many years after that before women were perceived as equal to men.  Frankly there are still some idiots who think they aren’t.  But the slow march towards equality began in Seneca Falls.

    • It’s a Wonderful Life in Seneca Falls

      The movie It’s a Wonderful Life was set in a town called Bedford Falls.  Which in the real world is apparently Seneca Falls, New York.  According to folklore Frank Capra spent some time in Seneca Falls the year before the film was made.  Looking around, he was inspired him to set the movie there.

      To commemorate this film classic, Seneca Falls has a festival every year in December.  This year it’s December 7-9.  And while the town has changed a lot over the years, there are still some areas that are the same as they were in the 1940’s when the film was made.  Most notably, the bridge that George jumped off is still there.  There’s a plaque on the bridge honoring Antonio Varacalli, who jumped into the river to save a woman who jumped off the bridge.  Antonio saved the woman but perished in the river himself.  It seems Frank Capra saw this plaque and it inspired his version of George jumping in to save his guardian angel Clarence.

      Visiting downtown Seneca Falls during the holiday season, and with snow falling, it’s easy to see what inspired Capra to film the movie here.  There’s a certain vibe downtown that inspires.  Sadly, that vibe doesn’t extend to other parts of town.  Seneca Falls is a gritty factory town, with a smelly landfill between the highway and downtown that fouls the air when the wind blows the wrong way.  Chain stores and Walmart line the road.  In some parts of town it’s more Pottersville than Bedford Falls now.  But downtown on a snow globe night, it’s easy to see Jimmy Stewart running down the street shouting “Merry Christmas!” to one and all.

    • Seeing the Elephant

      There’s an old expression that people used to ask when asking if someone had experienced something unique or special.  Have you seen the elephant?  Today seeing an elephant isn’t particularly hard to do – go to a zoo and there they are.  They used to be a big draw in circuses as well, until people realized how traumatic it was for the elephants.

      At any rate, seeing the elephant meant checking a box. Today people might talk about it as a bucket list item.  Have you seen Niagara Falls?  Have you seen the elephant?  Have you been to Paris in the springtime?  Have you seen the elephant?  According to Jon Sterngass, “seeing the elephant” also signified a quest for satisfactions in disreputable quarters.”  Wikipedia describes another meaning for seeing the elephant for soldiers – have you been to war?  Have you seen battle?  Wiki describes seeing the elephant in a negative connotation – yeah I saw it but wish I hadn’t.

      I confess to not really knowing the term.  I’d heard it before but it didn’t resonate with me.  Seeing the elephant?  Whatever.  Didn’t care.  I’d seen elephants since I was a kid.  But the term stuck for me when I read a Sports Illustrated article about the 18 inning World Series game 3, in which Tom Verducci compared watching that game to “I have seen the elephant”.

      I’ve seen a few metaphorical elephants in my lifetime.  I’m hunting many more.  Currently seeing the aurora borealis is by far tops on my bucket list of elephants.  Paris, Scotland, Hawaii, hiking the Appalachian Trail, hell, even seeing the last six episodes of Game of Thrones…  the elephant doesn’t have to be big to be meaningful.

      Life is very short, and as the expression goes, “Man Plans, and God Laughs”.  I keep aiming for the elephants, and hope that I might see all of them before I check out of here.  Without goals, what would life be?

    • The Ghosts That We Knew

      October is a magical month in New England.  The harvest is largely done, leaves are turning and falling off the trees, the days grow shorter and the air becomes crisper.  Winter is coming, but not just yet.

      Like most people who live here, I think of fall as the best time of year in New England.  It’s the sight of foggy ponds and pumpkins and chrysanthemums, the smell of leaves and hay and apple crisp, and the feel of layers of clothes pulled out of dormancy clinging to our skin to warm us from the new season’s chill.

      2018 has been a year of loss.  Some people who were full of life have moved on to whatever comes next.  Autumn is when I think about such things.  Really, it’s hard not to when nature demonstrates daily that this time is short and we’re all dancing on this earth for a short time.  Seeing the leaves turn or seeing Bodhi struggle to climb the stairs; really it’s the same thing.

      Momento Mori.  This is the season of reflection.  The ghosts that we knew remind us that our time is short.  I must do more with that time.

    • Good As It’s Been To Me: The Genius of the Avett Brothers in Four Songs

      Good As It’s Been To Me: The Genius of the Avett Brothers in Four Songs

      The Avett Brothers’s music is a lot like a tidal river; always shifting, complex and different.  Like many people I started listening as they hit a national audience with the I and Love and You album, then the Avett Brothers Live, Vol. 3 album and concert video, and finally when I got to see them live, where I learned just how electrifying they are with a crowd.

      I know what you’re saying, you’ve heard one or two of their hit songs, probably I and Love and You and Ain’t No Man, and maybe they’re okay but not your style.  Maybe you view banjo as a little too Americana for your tastes.  Well, if that’s the case then you’re missing out on some great music.  Like the songs themselves there are many layers to the Avett Brothers.  The songs are intricate creations built like melodic Penrose Stairs; uniquely complex but also highly listenable gems.  Scott and Seth – to me – are like Lennon-McCartney or John-Taupin in the way they feed off each other to build a memorable song.  Bold comparison?  Perhaps, but I believe their life’s work will stand up well against other legendary writing duos.  So here are four songs that illustrate the incredible range and complexity of the Avett Brothers:

      The Once and Future Carpenter  The Avetts craft songs that take you on a journey, and this song exemplifies that.  The central message is living your life following your own true north, so you don’t regret it on your death bed.  Old souls these Avett Brothers.  This kind of deep thinking about our mortality is usually reserved for the end of an artist’s career, not the middle of it.

      Forever I will move like the world that turns beneath me
      And when I lose my direction I’ll look up to the sky
      And when the black dress drags upon the ground
      I’ll be ready to surrender, and remember
      We’re all in this together
      If I live the life I’m given, I won’t be scared to die

      Pretty Girl from Chile  To really know the complexity of an Avett Brother’s song, look no further than this one.  The studio version is a roller coaster ride of deep climbs and plummets, hard turns and a racing heart.  A live performance adds a triple shot of espresso with a Red Bull chaser.  These are great musicians, and it takes a song like this to really hammer that point home.  From the moment Scott grabs your full attention with his piercing, evangelistic voice they’ve got you:

      I’m no more than a friend girl
      I can see that you need more
      My boots are on my feet now
      My bag is by the door

      This song has everything – starting with Scott’s powerful lead vocal and rapid fire lyrics to quick instrument changes that weave us between bluegrass, flamenco and alternative rock in the same song.  Seth is the engine behind this song with incredible range in his guitar playing and harmonies with Scott woven throughout the song.

      Laundry Room  There were big hits on the I and Love and You album.  The title track for sure, and Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise and Kick Drum Heart rightfully got a lot of airplay.  Great songs every one, but to me Laundry Room is the emotional core of this album.  The song that sneaks up on you, gives you a bear hug and won’t let go.

      Stop your parents’ car
      I just saw a shooting star
      We can wish upon it
      We won’t share the wish we made
      But I can’t keep no secrets
      I wish that you would always stay

      Lovely song that stays with you when you’ve let it into your heart.  The live versions I’ve seen just completely grab the audience and take them for a ride.  And every listen does just that.

      I am a breathing time machine.  I’ll take you all for a ride.

      No Hard Feelings  A masterpiece of looking at our own mortality and the dynamics of love and loss.  This song may ultimately be the signature song for the band, like Stairway to Heaven is for Led Zeppelin.  Neither band is a one hit wonder by any stretch, but respectively these songs demonstrate a pinnacle of creative writing for each band.  The Avett Brothers may yet top No Hard Feelings, but it feels like a song with the staying power and genius of Stairway to Heaven.  Look, I know the band isn’t at that Led Zep megastar level yet, and perhaps they never will be, but the point is they’re brilliant musicians and this song will be a highlight of their career catalog.

      When my body won’t hold me anymore 
      And it finally lets me free 
      Where will I go? 

      Sure, there are a lot of great bands out there making great music.  This one is my favorite of the last decade.  I could have picked four different songs with the same emotional impact.  There’s just so much to this band to love.  The harmonies between the two brothers is exceptional, and there’s a tightness to the band molded out of years of touring.  I’m looking forward to seeing where they take us next.

    • Reading List for 2H18

      Like many people I have a list of books I’ve been meaning to get around to.  Some have been on the list for years, others for a month or two.  Some I’ve chipped away at recently, hoping to complete them and check that box.  Others I’ve ignored indefinitely.  Three of the books in this stack are books I’ve been meaning to get to for years.

      Reading lists are deeply personal things.  My reading list is a stack of books I want to read to feel like I’ve accomplished something significant.  I read all the time and love to immerse myself in a great book, but some books are more evasive than others.  Representing 5,001 total pages of non-fiction and fiction, these books are my ultra-marathon reading challenge.  With 169 days left in the year that represents just under 30 pages per day to complete this reading list.  Simple right?  Some reading is easier than other reading.  There’s a reason a few of these have been sitting on the shelf for awhile.

      Here’s my list for the balance of 2018:

      • Benjamin Franklin – Edmund S Morgan
      • Antifragile – Nassim Nicholas Taleb
      • Mindwise – Nicholas Epley 
      • Surveyors of Empire – Stephen J Hornsby
      • Meditations – Marcus Aurelius
      • Cultural Amnesia – Clive James
      • The Count of Monte Cristo – Alexander Dumas
      • Ulysses – James Joyce
      • Don Quixote – Miquel de Cervantes
      • Letters to a Young Poet – Rainer Maria Rilke

      Some heavyweight business books, some classics, a biography, some history and stoic philosophy.  Like most things I do, it’s got a dose of eclectic in it.  So be it.  Averaging 30 pages a day is attainable, and candidly I’ve been putting several of these off for too long.  I’ve got a stack of books after this to tackle too, but these are the books I’m going to finish in 2018.  Ready?  Let’s go.

    • The Best Available at the Time

      Today I took this picture of a hummingbird.  Well, I took many pictures of a couple of hummingbirds and this one was good enough to post.  I know several photographers in my Facebook community who will look at this and bite their lip at my amateurish use of filters or aperture or whatever.  That’s okay with me.  While I wish the body wasn’t as blurry as it is, these suckers move fast, I don’t have 10,000 hours to dedicate to mastering the craft and at 52 I don’t really care whether someone harshly judges a picture I took.  Photos are time stamps of what I was looking at in a particular moment.  The 25 other photos I took to get this one go into the recycle bin.

      I recently heard a Tim Ferriss podcast interview with Brandon Stanton, creator of Humans of New York in which Stanton readily acknowledged that he’s not the best photographer, but that’s never been the point of it anyway.  His real strength lies in pulling stories out of the people he photographs.  And really that’s why people follow Stanton’s work.  He’s a master at going deep with his subjects.  He also mentioned that he’s interviewed and photographed thousands of people over the years, and most never make the final photoblog.  Those cut either hold back, decide they’re not comfortable with what they said, or perhaps Stanton didn’t find it as interesting as another person he photographed.

      Facebook is where we post pictures of the best of ourselves.  Great sunsets or vacations, adventures we’re on, fun times with friends and family, etc.  And I try to keep up as best I can, though I’ve toyed with the idea of deleting my Facebook account for years.  I don’t because it’s the only way to keep in touch with people I grew up with, worked with years ago, moved far away or simply don’t see regularly.  Some people hate Facebook because they feel like they’re not living as good a life as someone else.  I believe most people will post the good stuff and not the challenges they may be going through in their lives.  Which is why I appreciate those who open up about their struggles.  Chasing perfection is a fools game.  None of us are perfect.  Judging yourself based on how many likes you get is a dead end game.

      I was at two events over the weekend.  The first was a Celebration of Life ceremony for my Aunt Debby.  She was a remarkable, beautiful person who always got me smiling no matter how self-absorbed in teen angst I may have been at the time.  She was incredibly perceptive and could see when you were struggling with something and give you a shoulder to cry on if you needed it, or infect you with her laughter until you forgot whatever the hell you were spun up about in the first place.  I’m a better person for having known her, and strive to be better still.

      The second event I went to was a party with my wife’s work friends.  I didn’t know anyone but Kris there, but I make a living building bridges with people and rolled with the opportunity to get to know a lot of people in different stages of life.  All good people, and I was struck by how close they were as a group.  This was partly because they shared a common struggle to maintain dignity while working with two narcissistic VP assholes.  Having worked for or with some truly narcissistic tools before it was easy to sympathize with them.  I’ve learned not to blindly respect people just because they have a title, but for who they are and how they treat people.

      The hummingbirds are constantly in the garden right now.  Bee balm in particular is a hummingbird magnet.  Wait a few minutes and you have one or two hummingbirds buzzing around.  That meant I had plenty of chances to get a perfect picture, and yet never quite got there.  Hummingbirds are curious creatures, and while I lingered near the garden waiting to check them out they would swoop in, hover a few feet from me and check ME out.  Turnaround is fair play I guess.  They didn’t seem overly concerned about my photos of them and whether I was getting their good side.  If my photography and writing proves anything, its that perfection is… evasive.  So be it.  Sometimes you just need to go with the best available at the time and move on.  This post is far from perfect, but I think it’s time to post it and move on to other things.

    • Taking the Plunge

      Hot, summer days are upon us.  The season is short; too short.  Best to embrace these days while they’re here.  Garden work done…  well, done enough anyway.  It’s never really done.  These are the days you bought a pool for in the first place.  Time to take the plunge.

      Jumping into a body of water is always a sensory experience.  First, there’s a quick assessment of what you’re jumping into.  In a pond or in Buzzards Bay I might look for rocks, shallows or perhaps a log that might have drifted into the area that I’m about to plunge into.  Risk assessment is a form of self-preservation.  I’ve plunged from cliffs, off deck railings, and from diving boards into rivers, lakes, the ocean and into pools.  I’ve scraped the bottom on a few occasions, and I’d rather avoid that unpleasant brush with the solids.  My mother tells me about someone in the family who dove head first off a bridge at low tide and died from a broken neck.  My son has a friend who is paralyzed from a similar event hitting a rock.  Best to assess before plunging.  And first plunges into new waters are best performed feet first.

      On this day I’m jumping into my pool so I know well the nooks and crannies at the bottom.  Mentally checked that box if you will.  So after risk assessment is comfort.  Just how cold is this water I’m about to plunge into?  I’m not a tip-toer when it comes to swimming.  Cold water is like ripping off the bandaid; the sooner you get it done the sooner you can get to a normal state.  On this day looking into the blue water, I know already that its warm.  So with no further hesitation, I take the plunge!

      A feet first plunge straight into the deep end of the pool brings with it immediate rewards.  First, the cooling effect of water embracing your skin.  The water is 10-15 degrees cooler than the air at this point in the day, and that’s enough of a difference to refresh without shocking the senses.  Swimming in the Atlantic Ocean or in a mountain stream this time of year offers a completely different sensory experience when the temperature difference is 30 degrees or more.  Don’t get me wrong, that’s a thrill as well, but the immediate shock of the temperature difference overrides some of the other senses you experience when the temperature difference isn’t as extreme.  Cold water takes your breath away and shocks you right into the moment.  It’s exhilarating in those first moments, and numbing in the next moments.  Depending on your tolerance and the air temperature you may decide to linger or get the hell out.

      Back to the pool and warm water plunging, the moment after you’ve broken the surface tension with a plunge brings you into an entirely different environment than the one you just left.  In a dive you might swim forward, but in a plunge its a moment of blissful chaos followed by new sensations.  You may touch the bottom of the pool with your toes.  Perhaps you don’t.  But either way in a plunge you’re floating in aerated water that has changed its state.  Millions of bubbles float around you, and as you drift back up to the surface those bubbles brush up and tickle your skin as they float upward.  I feel like I’m floating in seltzer water at this moment, and as you break the surface and draw a breath the surface boils with air bubbles bursting as the hit the surface.  This is a moment when you feel truly alive.

      Swimming underwater brings its own sensory experience.  Different (of course) from swimming on the surface because you subtract everything happening up there and focus completely on what you’re doing and feeling underwater.  In the bay or in a pond you may feel plant life brushing up against your skin or the occasional fish.  This skeeves some people out but it doesn’t bother me.  Floating in Buzzards Bay you may have hundreds of minnows swimming close to you, brushing against or pecking at your skin.  That’s not for everyone I suppose but they’re just using you as shelter from the bigger fish who would snack on them.  But today I’m in a pool and if you do it right you don’t have plant life and minnows brushing up against you as you float in the water.

      Moving underwater you feel the water current brush against your skin.  This feeling is almost as exhilarating as the bubbles you felt after the plunge.  Feeling this fluid friction brush your skin as you float underwater has meditative qualities to it as you are very much in that moment and a part of the larger body of water that you’re floating in.  It’s a feeling I try to hold onto as I grudgingly get out of the water after that last swim in the bay or pool at the end of the season.  But lets not think about the last swim just yet.  We all know here that summer, like weekends, is all too brief.   So embrace the moment at hand and take the plunge.