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I met my new friend on the dock and after exchanging some pleasantries, we boarded his dinghy with my gear bag to head back to the trawler now sitting quietly at anchor in the river. He drove like an old islander he had met long ago, standing upright in the dinghy, holding firmly to the bow line for balance while using a tiller extension to steer. With his Benson captains' hat, he certainly cut a unique figure. All he needed was a pipe and a rain slicker to complete the look. [PLEASE CLICK ON TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING]

Long ago, my high-school friend was engaged in one of “those” conversations with his mother. He was behind the wheel as they drove down “The Pike”, that highway between our towns. In response to her question – something like ‘whaddaya want to do with your life’ – he started “I want to help make the world a better place…” She cut him off - “then start by letting into your lane that guy whose had his blinker on for the past quarter mile!” We still laugh about this today, 50 years later. [Please click on the header above to continue reading]

I get dismissive when I hear people habitually use trite, worn-out expressions as a response. It’s like they are pre-loaded on the tip of the tongue and just come driveling out. It feels to me that maybe it’s a crutch so they don’t have to think or process what the conversation is about. Especially so when the expression used doesn’t fit the context. They are not engaged, really, and maybe the use of these idioms helps them think they are. I know I should be more patient, hanging in there longer or trying something different to help usher them to more meaningful dialogue. But too often I don’t.

Some memories creep in slowly, a great effort made to push past the fog. Others rip down the curtains and flood your brain like a searing flash of light. This is one such memory. [PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING]

The request started off innocuously enough – visit this website and write a note or a letter in honor of one of those special birthdays for a childhood friend. It encouraged me to sit back, relax and think of some good times and memories that I shared with her.

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At about the same time last week that I walked through the gates of the Polynesian Cultural Center on the island of Oahu, the US Census Bureau released its preliminary results of the 2020 Census. “The United States grew significantly more diverse over the past decade, as the populations of people who identify as Hispanic and Asian surged and the number of people who said they were multiracial more than doubled.” The white category declined. Again.

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You would think it to be a simple exercise.

My nonagenarian father made a simple request that, when the time comes, a park bench be erected in his memory along the path where he has walked daily for so many years. He wants a bronze plaque extolling the virtue of a good daily walk as an expression of gratitude to all the passersby who befriended him during his countless walks there. He even bought the bench and had it shipped, ready to go for, you know, “when the time comes”.

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“Daddy, I’ve never seen Uncle Bubba so happy”, said my young niece looking at a photo held in place by a red plastic magnetized “M” on the door of her refrigerator. I was standing then in the cramped galley of a sailboat, baseball cap on backwards, towel over my shoulder, a glass of wine close at hand, dicing and slicing, a pan simmering on the small gas stove. Her father was perched at the salon table with shards of sunlight bobbing along the bulkheads and across his face as the boat gently rocked, camera at the ready. He snapped that photo as I turned to look at him, laughing at his comment. We had just sailed the 30 or so miles from the Southern California mainland across the shipping lanes to Catalina Island where we were safely moored in Avalon Harbor, the barren hills behind the village to the south, the casino on the western point, the sun beginning its descent. To be fair, I can think of no finer moment for me than having just spent the day sailing, cooking a simple but delicious meal and enjoying it topside in the open air as the sun sets and in the company of a close, long-term friend while sharing a bottle of wine and good stories.

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These are extraordinary times to be sure.

We haven’t been able to see those whom we love for nearly a year now. And, perhaps, we’ve never spent so much time together with those we do live with. We’ve gotten creative in finding new ways to interact and to share. This situation has given us a unique opportunity to review what is really important to us, if we devote the time to think about it. [Please click on the title above to continue reading.]

I’ve been requested to address the real fear some of us are experiencing about the pandemic and how to deal with that fear. But as I jotted some early notes, I realized that both sides of that coin need to be considered. On the one hand, many are experiencing immobilizing fear as the pace of infection and deaths accelerate into the holiday season, and that fear needs to be dealt with. On the other hand, there are still too many who are moving about nonchalantly and unafraid who frankly need to be realizing more fear. [PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING]