Alexandersmap

    Category: Lifestyle

    • New Year’s Day

      2019 has begun in earnest and there’s no time to waste.  Things to do, places to see, books to read, people to meet, friends and family to reconnect with, work to accomplish.  The flipping of the calendar signifies many things but it does mark change, if only in a number.
      “I will begin again” – U2, New Year’s Day
      The morning after the celebration, for those who didn’t celebrate too much, is chock full of promise.  New habits or the banishment of old habits, goals to accomplish, changes to make in the way you live your life.  Really, every morning offers this opportunity.  Every day you wake up is a clean slate, and offers the promise of the coming day.
      “When you see the Southern Cross for the first time
      You understand now why you came this way
      ‘Cause the truth you might be runnin’ from is so small
      But it’s as big as the promise, the promise of a comin’ day”
                                          – Crosby, Stills & Nash, Southern Cross
      Those lyrics remain burned in me like cattle prod, and poke at me now and then to get out in the world.  Just as the movie Local Hero does.  They serve as a catalyst and travel and some form of adventure must follow soon after each taps me between the ears.  I need to pay penance first with work to do at home, in Pocasset and in my job, but sure as the calendar changes on January 1 I’ll be off somewhere again, finding adventure where I may.

    • HNY

      “Give yourself fully to your endeavors. Decide to construct your character through excellent actions and determine to pay the price of a worthy goal. The trials you encounter will introduce you to your strengths.” – Epictetus

      Perfectly stoic outlook for the 2019.  Here’s to a great New Year’s Eve tomorrow and a safe and Happy New Year for all.  Cheers!

    • The Reading List

      Each day the reading list grows.  The will to read is there, and I’m working through the stacks, but the stack grows nonetheless.  I feel like Permetheus pushing the rock up the hill when it comes to tacking the mountains of books I’d like to get through.  Counting some Christmas additions and leftover 2018 reading list books that I’m either still trying to get through or trying to get to, I’m looking at dozens of books.  While I’m happy to have completed many of the books on my 2018 list, I regret the  distractions that kept me from completing the rest.  So here we are, heading into the New Year, and these are the books that I’d like to complete in 2019:

      How the Scots Invented the Modern World
      Guns, Germs and Steel
      This is Marketing
      The Map Thief
      American Nations
      The Count of Monte Cristo
      Cultural Amnesia
      The French and Indian War
      Letters from a Poet
      The Way of the Seal
      The Cuban Affair
      Ulysses
      For Whom the Bell Tolls
      The Rising Tide
      The Fateful Lightning
      Empire of Liberty
      Valiant Ambition
      Benedict Arnold’s Navy
      Leadership
      Belichick

      Twenty-one books.  Thirteen are historical novels or cover historical events. one sports biography, one self-improvement, one business book (marketing), four fiction and one is a book of letters from a poet.  It’s history-heavy, but then that’s an interest of mine.  My short term goal is to finish seven of them – 1/3 – by the end of April.  So I’d better get focused.

    • Christmas Stoicism

      On”Do what nature demands.  Get a move on – if you have it in you – and don’t worry whether anyone will give you credit for it.  And don’t go expecting Plato’s Republic; be satisfied with even the smallest progress, and treat the outcome of it all as unimportant.” – Marcus Aurulius

      Stoicism and Christianity started at roughly the same time.  I embrace stoicism not as a rejection of Christianity, but because it completes the story for me.  Merry Christmas – and Memento Mori.

    • Faraway Places

      I’m looking at an app showing the best locations right now for viewing the Aurora Borealis.  One of the best spots at this moment is 1,063 miles away from where I sit in Labrador.  Seeing the Northern Lights has grown to be a priority for me.  Something I’d like to do today, or at least before the end of the year.  Alas, responsibilities trump dreams.  Which makes me wonder, who made these rules anyway?

      “But oh, that magic feeling, nowhere to go.”
      – The Beatles, You Never Give Me Your Money

      I’ve got plenty of places to go.  Plenty of reasons to stay too.  I’m not going to roll out The Clash’s lyrics now, but it’s a real battle taking place.

    • 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?