Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • 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.

    • Broken Shoelaces

      Just when your shoes are nice and broken in, the laces seem to wear thin and break.  Granted, the same forces that break in your shoes are also working on the weakest link in your shoes, but it has always seemed a design flaw that could be fixed.

      Shoelaces are not a sexy topic, but they’re highly relevant at critical moments, like when I’m rushing to a meeting and quickly slipping on my shoes to dash out of the hotel room and BAM! a shoe lace goes.  Emergency splicing and cursing ensue, followed by a visit to a store for some lesser shoe laces that never feel as special as the originals.  Many love affairs with well worn shoes have gone south for the lack of decent replacement laces.

      A good pair of shoes takes you to faraway places; hiking the coast of Portugal or walking La Ramblas in Barcelona, or to dance floors at your niece’s wedding reception, or to quiet walks of reflection with your aging dog.  I’ve come to appreciate a great pair of shoes as I appreciate a great tool in my toolbox.  I don’t buy a lot of shoes but the ones I buy get a lot of use.  And they do the job time and time again.  But time and use wear out each and the laces are the canary in the coal mine for shoes.  I’d like to think that an old pair of shoes is like Willy Nelson’s worn out guitar full of holes but still making beautiful music, but in reality an old pair of shoes can only take you so far.  At least with guitar strings you replace one with another just as good.  Not so with replacement shoe laces; they almost always are found lacking.  And while we may get a replacement set of laces or two, usually that first set of laces marks the beginning of the end for shoes.

      So consider the humble shoelace.  Designed to tightly integrate your shoe to your foot.  An excuse to stop and observe for spies around the world.  Source of many a middle school prank and inadvertent fall.  There when you need them until the day when they announce they’ve had enough.

    • Tomatoes, Chicken Shit and Marcus Aurelius

      “…. Leaves that the wind. Drives earthward; such are the generations of men.”
                                                                                         – Marcus Aurelius (quoting Homer)

      “Even as are the generations of leaves, such are those also of men. As for the leaves, the wind scattereth some upon the earth, but the forest, as it bourgeons, putteth forth others when the season of spring is come; even so of men one generation springeth up and another passeth away.”
                                                                                        – Homer, The Iliad with the original quote

      We’re in the prime of growing season now and the tomato plants that I grew from seed are over knee high.  I’ve tried a couple of things this year that I haven’t done previously.  First, growing from seed instead of just buying plants at a local nursery.  I did that just because I wanted to do something “summer” in the middle of what seemed like an endless “winter”.  And second, I switched to chicken manure instead of composted cow manure.  This is a nod to my grandfather, who was known to gush about the benefits of chicken manure for growing kick ass tomatoes.  So far that seems to be bearing out.  Chicken shit is a derogatory term, but the real stuff packs a punch; pungent, powerful and efficient (a little goes a long way).

      The more I garden, the more I recognize the seasons for what they are.  And the longer I live, the more I see the similarities between our lives and the seasons.  There’s nothing revolutionary in this thought process, just refer to Homer and Marcus Aurelius and you see that countless generations of humans have thought the same thing.  This is our season, make the most of it.  Don’t fear the end, embrace the now.  I don’t view this as fatalistic, but pragmatic.  Believe me I’m in it for the long haul but know the deck of cards doesn’t always play out in your favor.

      A couple of seasons ago I had a problem with groundhogs eating half of my tomatoes and leaving the rest to rot in the sun.  Apparently they’d rather sample than finish the fruit.  Lovely habit.  Around the same time I had a nice batch of blueberries ripening in the sun.  The birds picked every last one of them before they showed a tint of blue.  Lesson learned.  Last year I planted pole beans to fill in around a clematis vine I had growing on a trellis.  The rabbits ate them all to the ground before they’d even reached a foot tall.  You just never know what fate brings your way, but I’ve learned to take measures to protect the fruits of my labor.  Don’t go through life trusting blindly that everything will be just fine.  Fence in your fruits and vegetables, change your passwords and lock your doors; trust but verify.

      “Life is short.  That’s all there is to say.  Get what you can from the present – thoughtfully, justly.  Unrestrained moderation.” – Marcus Aurelius

      Our growing season is pretty short, but it’s long enough to grow decent tomatoes.  Provide plenty of sunlight, nourish and give them a drink now and then, protect them from those who would harm them and if you’re lucky you end up with beautiful, ripe tomatoes later in the season.  It’s a basic formula for gardening and raising children, and it works well for how we maintain ourselves along the way too.  The last step of course is to savor the things you produce, the good fortune that comes your way, and the season that you’re in.

    • Father’s Day Reflections

      When I think about Father’s Day I think about the Father’s Day I spent spreading crushed stone as a base for our brick patio on a hot and humid day a dozen years ago.  Spreading crushed stone with a rake and shovel is soul-crushing work, and I was miserable.  At moments like that I usually try to push harder to just get it done, but looking around that day I realized that I had a long way to go.  No end in sight.  The Bobcat I rented couldn’t do what needed to be done, I had to do it.  Thoughts ran through my head about hiring someone to finish the job.  Throw money at the problem and have it go away.  Go have a drink and relax on the deck instead.  But we pushed through those feelings and eventually finished the work.  And for the last twelve years we’ve enjoyed countless birthday parties, fire pit conversations and casual strolls on that walk and patio and look back and laugh at that “low point” in our lives.

      Like every father I’ll remember those moments when my kids were born forever.  The marathon exhaustion of Ian being born combined with the mystery and newness of bringing a child into this world.  The surprising and relative ease with which Emily introduced herself to the world (spoken from a father’s point of view).  Those moments were milestones but just the start.  Fatherhood is the grind that comes afterwards.  The day-to-day commitment and sacrifices you make for your family.  Being a father means showing up and doing the work.  Maybe thats why I think of that particular day when I think of Father’s Day.

      I think that’s the magic in It’s a Wonderful Life.  Most parents can relate to it.  George Bailey sacrifices his own wishes and desires for his family and the town he lives in.  The knocks keep coming but ultimately he figures out that the things that kept saying “not yet” to him when he was just about to realize his dreams were the things that made his life worthwhile.  That’s being a father.  Sure I haven’t checked off a lot of items on the bucket list just yet, but I wouldn’t trade the time with my kids.

      I have a few fathers in my life.  My dad and step-father have both been central in my development and in the way I look at the world.  I inherited my sarcasm and self-depreciation from my father, but also my love of family and willingness to sacrifice like George Bailey for the family.  After raising four children my dad fostered and raised six more kids.  He never complains about the struggle, he just pushes through.  Being the 8th of 16 kids meant my dad was as middle child as you get.  He taught me to appreciate the little things and to be patient with others.  He’s better at that than I am.

      My step-father has his own kids but made us a central part of his life.  He sacrificed a lot in doing so.  He’s more Harry Bailey; flying off aircraft carriers, athletic, traveling the world, a knowing gleam in his eye and quick with a great story.  And there for you when it counts.  Taking a walk in the woods with him was a Masters-level education.  My love of adventure, gardening and willingness to jump right into it comes from him.  And rum.  He set me down the path with rum.  Not just the drink but the process of making the drink and when and how to drink it.  That’s a post for another day.

      My father-in-law is the third father in my immediate circle.  He’s the ultimate cheerleader for his kids and grandchildren.  He knows everyone in the Merrimack Valley.  He tells stories about basketball games from 30 years ago like they were yesterday.  Kris says he never missed a game or track meet she was in growing up.  While I can’t be at every game like him I’ve tried to be there as much as I can for my kids’ milestone events.

      Now I’ve got adult children.  My youngest is the age my mother was when she had me.  But being a dad doesn’t stop just because my kids are largely independent.  I expect the next twenty years will be filled with both milestone moments and knock you to your knees challenges.  I’m hoping for more of the former.

    • Bluebirds

      Bluebirds

      I have a pair of bluebirds nesting in my backyard.  This isn’t an accident – I’d decided earlier this year to put up both a feeder and a birdhouse to give them a place to eat and to nest without competition from other birds.  I spent a few minutes outside sitting quietly in between the feeder and the nest.  Eventually the male made an appearance, first at the feeder, then at the nest.  He’d likely been waiting in a tree somewhere to see what I was all about before he got back to the business of bringing worms and nest material to the female.  I’m sure there’s a great filter that I didn’t use on these pictures, but these represent the colors pretty well.

       

       

       

      While most of the other bird feeders were put away for the season, I’m sticking with the bluebird feeder.  I like the flash of brilliant blue out of the corner of my eye.  I’ve had similar success attracting hummingbirds, cardinals, finches and other birds to the yard.

      There’s a law of attraction principal at work here I’m sure.  A “build it and they will come” allegory.  Whatever.  I like to fill the yard with color and motion, and to be a good neighbor.  The reward is the occasional glimpse into the lives of other creatures who co-habitate with us in this space.