Alexandersmap

    Tag: Mark Twain

    • Plans and Adages

      “It is easy to make plans in this world; even a cat can do it; and when one is out in those remote oceans it is noticeable that a cat’s plans and a man’s are worth about the same.”
      ― Mark Twain, Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World

      I planned to do a few things this week that simply didn’t happen because of other things that were more pressing in the moment. Perhaps this has happened to you? Naturally. We’re all human, we make our plans and God laughs. We all have heard this adage and accept it even as some question the laugher, because plans have a way of changing no matter how stubborn we are about sticking with them.

      Mark Twain, bobbing around in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, was likely wondering what went wrong with his own plans that brought him there. He’d accepted a lecture circuit around the British Empire because he’d lost most of his fortune in bad investments. Through adversity we find opportunity. Finding the silver lining is a path to resilience. We are built to transcend obstacles and challenges, even if we don’t always realize it at the time.

      Speaking of challenges, trying to eat well and to drink in moderation (or not at all) during the holidays is just about as challenging as trying to fit in a solid workout when the days feel so short and frenzied. It’s easier to simply give in and eat the cookies and chocolate that people seem to throw at you this time of year (why does everyone bake so much in December?). What’s one more cookie anyway? The truth shall set you free, and when you find yourself in a hole, stop digging. Or at least stop eating and go take a walk. The dog would like that, and so would the waistline. After all, a rolling stone gathers no moss.

      If I’ve learned anything from having a few of these holidays under my belt, it’s to celebrate the season, but maybe temper that enthusiasm for treats with a bit more active lifestyle. Nothing ventured, nothing gained may be true, but don’t venture into too many treats and too few steps!

      Earlier this week I met with a couple of industry friends at a brewery. It became apparent that I’ve (thankfully) lost my ability to keep pace downing pints, and I opted out of the latter rounds in favor of staying under the legal limit for my commute home. All things in moderation, we tell ourselves. Just remember that moderation for some is excess for others. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.

      It may be true that we are never too old to learn, but it’s also true that we aren’t getting any younger. So sure, we ought to do things now that will be impossible to do later, but maybe lean into the healthier choices that build a stronger foundation for that future version of us that we hope is strong and vibrant and maybe even a little scandalously adventurous for the age we are at the time. At least, that’s the plan.

    • Fully-Valued

      “To get the full value of joy you must have someone to divide it with.” — Mark Twain

      Joy shifts time. It locks moments in amber. It makes years seem like days, even as days seem like minutes. It’s all a collection of joyful minutes, sprinkled with the jolts that life throws at us all. We learn to value our time together for the shared experience of living as the world sweeps past us like a swollen river after a storm.

      Now everyone dreams of love lasting and true
      Oh but you and I know what this world can do
      So let’s make our steps clear that the other may see
      And I’ll wait for you, and if I should fall behind wait for me
      — Bruce Springsteen, If I Should Fall Behind

      We live in our time machine, my bride and I. I know it’s a time machine because I look at old photographs, or think back on certain moments, and when I compare them with the date they were taken I’m shocked by the time that has flown by. We are betrayed by years, but we aren’t yet old. But tell that to the kids and they’ll laugh. Tempus fugit, indeed.

      May your hands always be busy
      May your feet always be swift
      May you have a strong foundation
      When the winds of changes shift
      May your heart always be joyful
      May your song always be sung
      May you stay forever young
      — Bob Dylan, Forever Young

      Printing out a wedding photo, the clerk commented that I look the same as when the picture was taken. Looks are deceiving, I laughed. Health is its own time machine, and for the most part we’ve been blessed with good health, coaxed by fitness and nutrition and good-enough genes. We know that time always wins, no matter what time machine we fly about in. A joyful life softens the landing, but we’ll land one day like all who have come before us.

      Maybe time running out is a gift
      I’ll work hard ’til the end of my shift
      And give you every second I can find
      And hope it isn’t me who’s left behind
      — Jason Isbell and The 400 Unit, If We Were Vampires

      We learn not to worry about what we cannot control. To always be worrying is to forsake joy for uncertainty. The only certainty is this moment together, so make it count in quiet gestures and unspoken ways. Joy is rooted in love: love of life, love for another, love of the moments built one upon the other for as long as this ride may continue. Nothing lasts forever—we know this all too well. But enjoying each something for all it offers is a path to a fully-valued, joyful life.

    • Lofty Expectations

      “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” — George Santayana

      “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes” – Mark Twain

      On my quest to be a lifetime learner I read a lot of history and philosophy in my spare time. Both subjects teach us that humans are fallible and the mistakes we inevitably make have tragic consequences. We must learn from the past, but mostly we repeat some iteration of it. History informs where societies spin off the tracks, philosophy teaches us how to get back on them. Pity that both subjects are largely ignored by the waves of humanity being told what to think.

      As the “greatest generation” passes and living memory of World War II and the Great Depression before it increasingly reside only in history books, it’s disappointing to see pundits twist facts for political gain, and it’s shameful to see learning the truth publicly shamed as woke by those who would have you only believe their words. We’ve been here before friends. We must choose to learn the lessons of history and be the voice of reason, and we must choose to learn the lessons of philosophy that we may find the moral strength to stay the course towards personal excellence, that we may live as an example of what is right in this world and guide others to a brighter future.

      This may seem rather lofty. Aren’t we allowed to have lofty expectations for ourselves and for the generations we coexist with? Would we rather be known as the ones who didn’t rise up when they could have made positive change in the world? History is full of such examples, but fortunately it’s also full of examples of people who pivoted at just the right moment to change the trajectory. I’d like to believe that might be us if we can ever put down the streaming cat videos and pay attention. Learning teaches us to be wary, but also cautiously optimistic. We may still get it right.

    • The Truth, and All That is Otherwise

      “It’s easier to fool people than to convince them that they have been fooled.” — Mark Twain

      I live in a red town, the red hat MAGA red that makes normal folk a bit weary. This is most noticeable in the signs and flags displayed well before the election announcing support for the former guy who wants to be the next guy that he may pardon himself and impose his version of payback on those who would make him accountable for his actions. Perhaps necessary for him, not necessarily for the rest of humanity. I tend to find the truth somewhere in the middle, ignoring the two extremes altogether. Sadly this doesn’t seem to be the norm.

      The internet created so much abundance in this world, but abundance isn’t always a good thing. The genie is out of the bottle now, so how do we balance the truth with all that is otherwise? The old expression, “trust but verify” only works when you can trust the place where you’re verifying the information you’re wondering if you can trust. When you use the same search engine for everything, how can we be sure anything is true?

      Modern life is making fools of us all. We ought to be focused on the massive challenges humanity and this planet face, instead we’re believing our ears instead of our eyes on every conspiracy theory, rumor and innuendo we stumble upon. When future generations look at us, will they shake their head in disbelief at the con job we were all sold on?

      If I began to tell you what the truth is, you should immediately put up your guard. None of us knows the truth about everything, and those who tell you they’ve got it all figured out are usually the ones that we should all be most skeptical of. We really only know the truth about ourselves, and most of us bury that too. The irony in all of this as that fooling ourselves and others seems to be one of those timeless truths about humans we will never quite shake. But hey, don’t take my word for it.

    • The Twenty-Year Filter

      “Our culture has engaged in a Faustian bargain in which we trade our genius and artistry for stability.” — Seth Godin, Graceful

      Some risk is necessary for true reward. This we know to be true. But we also know that there’s reward in being firmly anchored to something of substance when it gets a bit stormy. The trick is to know when to leave the safe harbor and when to stay put. As with everything, life is a balancing act skating the line between order and chaos.

      “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines! Sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover!” — Attributed to, but definitely NOT Mark Twain, rather a quote from H. Jackson Brown

      The twenty-year filter is a helpful way to approach decision-making: Will staying in the safe harbor be something I regret in twenty years or ensure I make it another day on my journey to twenty years? Will this work mean anything in twenty years? Will I be healthy enough to do this thing I want to do now in twenty years? Will there be any glaciers to hike in twenty years? And so on. Each question posed reveals a truth to us that guides us. Often the answer is, “Don’t wait!” Sometimes the answer is, “Not this”. And sometimes that answer is, “Not yet”.

      When we can see the forest for the trees, we gain perspective, insight and a proper sense of direction. Twenty years is about a quarter of a lifetime, if we’re lucky, and gives us a big enough runway to take off for wherever we want to go. In twenty years one can raise a couple of infants to adulthood, build sustained career momentum through a collected network of trusted business associates, pick up an advanced degree or gain mastery in a desired skill. Or we can fritter it away on the trivial and inconsequential. It’s a good round number that is useful in so many ways.

      When I look back on the last twenty years, I’m stunned by how quickly it flew by, but also thrilled with the better decisions I’ve made in that time. The poor decisions weigh on me too, but when we live a life of personal integrity and accountability, the good often outweighs the bad. Those good decisions were often unconsciously made with a long-term view, the bad with a distinctly short-term view. Putting a spotlight on this process with a twenty-year filter often makes our choice even more obvious. What exactly are we trading off later for this choice now?

    • The Newport Cliff Walk

      Newport, Rhode Island is known its notable music scene with world-renowned folk and jazz festivals, as an epicenter of sailing culture (longtime home of the America’s Cup) and the party town any sailor would want in a home port, for the Tennis Hall of Fame, but mostly, Newport is famous for its mansions. Those mansions, built as summer “cottages” by wealthy families like the Vanderbilts, are massive and interesting to tour if you want to get a sense for how the wealthy lived in the Gilded Age of 1870 to 1910. Industrial titans and savvy global traders moved here to be where other wealthy people lived—to be amongst their peers in net worth.

      The phrase “The Gilded Age” was coined by Mark Twain, and not as a complement. He was pointing to the thin veneer of wealth that hid a lot of problems underneath it. It has taken on a romanticized connotation since then, but we ought to remember that these were just people with the same issues we all face in families and relationships, with the blessing and curse that money layers into the mix. I’m not a fan of wealth politics or keeping up with the Jones as a lifestyle choice, but I can appreciate the craftsmanship of the mansions and the wealth required to build and maintain them.

      The strip of land between this collection of Gilded Age and modern-day mansions and the sea is public domain. It’s here that you’ll find the Cliff Walk. Sections of the Cliff Walk are meant for everyone to traverse. You could easily walk or roll a wheelchair on most of the paved sections between Memorial Drive and 40 Steps, the staircase that descends to the ocean. The section between Salve Regina University and The Breakers is equally well-suited for accessibility. Beyond that the path becomes best for the sure-footed. If you don’t love hopping between boulders there are sections of the Cliff Walk that aren’t for you. But there’s something for everyone.

      For me, the magic of the Cliff Walk isn’t just the glimpses of manicured lawns and mansions, it’s the diversity of the walk itself. At times paved walkway, other times rock scramble or beach sand. Even a couple of tunnels to move the public quietly through the historic and high end real estate above. It’s a fascinating place to traverse, taking you from one beach to another past billions of dollars of American wealth.

      The Cliff Walk is officially 3 1/2 miles long, but we extended it to almost 6 miles, from Old Town to the Eaton’s Beach starting point, and from the end at Baily’s Beach along Bellevue Avenue to Rosecliff Mansion. On a crisp and sunny November day it wasn’t crowded but it was surely beautiful. From Rosecliff it’s an easy walk to The Breakers, the largest of the mansions and the flagship of Newport’s Gilded Age “cottages”. The fact that they called them cottages tells you all you need to know about the vast wealth of the families who visited Newport each summer.

      Ultimately, a stay in Newport is never quite long enough. I didn’t have a summer to mingle with the locals, but a mere weekend. The Cliff Walk was a great lynchpin stringing together an epic walking day in the Celestial City. It justified some of the great dining experiences we had, and have us thinking about a return trip sometime soon.

      The Breakers
      Beautiful gazebo tucked up tightly against the Cliff Walk
      The Tea House, shadowed by morning sun
      Tunnel under the Tea House
      Not all sections of the Cliff Walk are easy to traverse
      Rugged coastal beauty is everywhere between the Cliff Walk and the sea
      All kinds of terrain will greet you on your walk
      The finale of the Cliff Walk is a walk through beach sand to the road

    • To Be Ignorant Is to Be Afraid

      “To be ignorant is to be afraid, and in the dark mystery of the unknown a man cannot find his way alone. He must have guides to speak to him with authority.” — Edith Hamilton, The Greek Way

      And, truly, what of good
      ever have prophets
      brought to men?
      Craft of many words,
      only through
      evil your message speaks.
      Seers bring aye
      terror, so to keep
      men afraid.
      — Æschylus      , Agamemnon

      Both of these quotes were drawn from Hamilton’s extraordinary book. The Gutenberg Project offers the entire English translation of Agamemnon, which the link above will take you to. Hamilton’s life story is itself fascinating and worth a deeper dive another time. For today, let’s focus on the urgency of climbing the steep hill of the informed. History ebbs and flows and, as Mark Twain said, rhymes.

      Much of the world runs on fear and ignorance. Those in the know shake their heads in disbelief at the things the ignorant regurgitate from the talking heads trying to hold power at any costs. That they’re largely successful speaks to the effectiveness of the platforms designed to stoke the fire. We must put out the fires being stoked or eventually be consumed by them.

      We dare not be ignorant. Look around at the world and feel the obligation of the informed, carrying the weight of the ignorant. We must look squarely into the eyes of those who would destroy democracy and rise up to meet them. Many will walk through life with blinders on, lest they witness anything contrary to what they’re told. There’s no nuance in the fears they express, no dance with life, merely a cycle of fear of what others are coming to take from them. They don’t see that they’ve already had everything taken from them by their messenger of choice.

      The thing is, we can’t change the extremists on either end of the spectrum, we can only shine a light on, and be open to, the truth. Life is a dance with either ignorance or knowledge. We must choose our dance partner with the utmost care, and in turn teach others to dance. Feel the rhythm in the rhyming of history and step towards truth. The alternative is wretchedness and fear. What kind of life is that?

    • The Day After Twain’s Birthday

      “Annihilation has no terrors for me, because I have already tried it before I was born -a hundred million years -and I have suffered more in an hour, in this life, than I remember to have suffered in the whole hundred million years put together. There was a peace, a serenity, an absence of all sense of responsibility, an absence of worry, an absence of care, grief, perplexity; and the presence of a deep content and unbroken satisfaction in that hundred million years of holiday which I look back upon with a tender longing and with a grateful desire to resume, when the opportunity comes.” ― Mark Twain, The Autobiography of Mark Twain

      Since I completely missed Mark Twain’s birthday yesterday (surely he didn’t mind), I thought a short post on the day after would be appropriate. We all ought to spend more time with clever people—people who don’t just say clever things but people who look at the world in a certain way that help us see what was right in front of us all along. Twain was certainly clever in that way.

      Dead now longer than he was alive, I imagine he’s made the most of the opportunity for peace and serenity that comes from passing from this world. I’m not particularly ready to join him, but take his words to heart. We weren’t alive far longer that we have been, and so it will be on the other side. We ought to be at peace with that, while using this unique opportunity to live as boldly as we can. Happy belated Birthday, Mr. Twain.

    • Roots and the Road

      “Be good and you’ll be lonesome.” — Mark Twain, Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World

      I’ve had this quote in my mind for a decade or two, floating about in the back of my brain. It sneaks back to the front now and then, mostly as a taunt to be more adventurous. Some may say I don’t need a prompt like that.

      A healthy dose of mischief leads us into all sorts of adventure. A healthy sense of place leads us to a life of meaning. There’s a happy medium somewhere in between. We ought to be a bit adventurous, but ought to have something that grounds us too. How we weigh that out is different for each of us. We’re never really lonesome when we’re running towards something.

      Last weekend Twain’s words drifted back front and center as I walked through a local greenhouse. It comes down to whether to plant tomatoes. If I plant them this year it signals I’m locked in to this place for at least another season. If I forgo the tomatoes, you might say I’m free to roam.

      Life is more complicated than that. We aren’t locked into a life by the crops we plant. But it sure feels like you’re rooting yourself to that plot of land while you’re planting them. That chicken manure sure smells a lot like commitment when you’ve caught the adventure bug.

      Still, I do love a good tomato.

    • To Hell With Comparison

      “We have so far to go” sighed the boy
      “Yes, but look at how far we’ve come.” said the horse
      – Charlie Mackesy      , The Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse

      I listened to an associate talk of stocks purchased and his regret that he only made $300K on his Moderna but would have made a million if he’d stuck with it. He’d already made millions selling his business, and talked of starting another business to build and sell. He’s a hustler, a builder, a big shark in a red ocean always hungry for more. And a charming guy who quickly wins people over with his personality and work ethic.

      Another friend who worked for this friend learned all he could from the big shark and started his own company. He’s built it up to be substantial. There’s no doubt that he’s a big shark himself now, and he talks exactly like the first guy. Rattles off accomplishments in every conversation, big wins, and a trophy house on a famous lake. Also a hustler, he’s built something special but isn’t slowing down. No, he’s got an empire to build and the climb isn’t over.

      You can quickly feel inadequate when you talk to someone who leapfrogs the average. These two make me dizzy when I talk to them, and there’s plenty more just like them who will rattle off wins like entrees on a Cheesecake Factory menu. I can’t help but admire them, and compliment each accomplishment for what it is. And there’s a little bit of comparison that slips in right about then where I think about what I’ve done in the industry versus what they’ve done, and… I silently curse myself for not being a bigger shark.

      “Comparison is the primary sin of modern life.” – Michael Ray“

      When you try to keep up with the Joneses you willingly enter into an arms race you can’t win. But the tendency to compare runs deep. And I thought about my two friends. They talk often, and I wonder about their conversations. I did this! Well, I did this! And so on until their next client calls with a billion dollar deal just in time for the holidays. And I shake my head. I don’t want to swim in that ocean.

      “Comparison is the death of joy.” – Mark Twain

      When you live your life based on how you perceive yourself to be in relation to someone else you can never measure up. And you set yourself up for a life of frustration and exhaustive one-upmanship. And yet most of us do it anyway. Worse, we start looking at what our children have accomplished compared to the neighbors kids and seed our issues right in to the next generation.

      “The trouble with the rat race is that even if you win, you’re still a rat.” – Lily Tomlin

      You can’t help but think about how far you have to go when you start comparing yourself to others. But it helps to look back and recognize just how far you’ve come. Often the best views are well before we reach the summit. We’re all on our own path, and it might just look pretty good to someone else. Shouldn’t we recognize that ourselves and appreciate where we are?

      And still comparison persists. Comparison can be a spur or a cancer. It serves to fuel progress, inspire action, alter our course and generally goad us out of complacency. Comparison isn’t all bad. Until you use it to degrade yourself or those you love, or to win at any cost. In those moments, to hell with comparison. Isn’t it better to be George Bailey than Mr. Potter?