Tag Archives: life

Look How Far We Have Come??

The route to independence for pre-teen boys in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s was paved with paper.

Newspapers.

Before there was a digital, instant-access-age, twice daily local newspapers were hand delivered to America’s door-steps by an army of young boys, over a million strong at its zenith.  Nearly half of all of the nation’s newspapers were handled by these young entrepreneurs and I was one of them.  Sadly, today that number has dropped to near zero.

Commitment, being on time, managing your time, honesty, accuracy, math skills,-adding-subtracting, managing money, counting change, managing credit, marketing, customer-relations, communication, handling complaints, paper-work, banking, coping with weather, delays, illness, fitness all of this and more was the responsibility of the newly minted pre-teen business owner.  As my customers came to know me, I mowed their lawns in the summer and shoveled snow from their sidewalks and driveways in the winter.

How would that reality affect today’s pre-teens and teens?

I attended one of the highest ranked business schools in the country and I learned far more about the realities of enterprise and life managing my paper route as a 12-year-old than I did at the university.  I’m still an entrepreneur and I continue to use those old, familiar lessons every day; street-reality forged by experience.  I was up-sell-marketing before I knew it was a business term.

The real tragedy here is that right now, today, we have done nothing to replace that kind of invaluable experience for our young people.  There is a price to be paid for ignoring this void and if you can pry the cell phones and ear-buds off today’s teens and pre-teens, that blind spot we are ignoring becomes abundantly obvious by their blank stares and struggle to effectively communicate.

My “graduation” from the paper-route was to the local gas station, a natural transition in those days because customers did not pump their own gas, attendants did.  Just shy of 16 and anxious to get my license, I was saving to trade my bicycle for a motorcycle and eventually a car.  A service station seemed like the place to learn more about all things mechanical.  Pumping gas for customers led to learning how to check the oil, filling or changing a tire, even changing the oil, or spark plugs.  Over time, even more methods of mechanical know-how became a puzzle I solved that granted me access to remedies and possibilities I previously knew nothing about and could not otherwise afford.  Knowledge becomes power when you can solve your own mechanical problems and at the same time save money and gain independence.  It was liberating, empowering and it gave me confidence.  It was a way to advance one more rung on life’s ladder and gain my independence.  I could transform a junk car into something useable and do it on a small budget and when it broke, I could fix it.

Self-service gas pumping, grocery scanning and a host of other jobs previously manned by an army of school-aged kids are now extinct in the age of automation.  Again, we leave behind a void and no intention of filling it, yet can we really expect to suffer no effect?  What I describe was my life growing up.  Thank God for it and Thank God I was able to introduce these kinds of working values to my own children, a genuine work-ethic.

Kids peddling newspapers and pumping gas are jobs and experiences never coming back however, the life skills those jobs and many others like them instilled in those kids provided a tremendous benefit we fail to provide today.  Like everything in life, there is a price for this failing and we can see it all around us as the mobs of phone-obsessed kids trudge through life oblivious to their surroundings, mind-numbed by a screen and sadly lacking of any of the kinds of “street-smarts” I managed to learn.

Today’s parental insistence on the physical “safety” of their kids justifies their hyper-insulation from the realities of life.  Paradoxically, kids will learn the longest-lasting lessons about safety when parents allow them, (within reason and with calculation) to experiment with their own judgment and at times be even a bit unsafe.  You can’t know where the margins are if you never push them.  Close-calls forge real lessons and develop better habits much more authentically than a hovering-smothering-over-protective and lecturing parent.  The mistakes and mis-steps we prevent our kids from taking will correspondingly fail to teach them anything.  Failure is a wonderful teacher when consequences have real sting.

The illusion of safety is represented by a parent believing that the act of knowing their kids’ whereabouts is sufficient.  The actual threat comes silently from screens and ear-buds and knows no safe boundaries.  While parents may sit in the same room with their kids, digital forces from unknown sources are competing for dominance and control of their thoughts.

The reality of my childhood that involved, literally, playing on the railroad tracks, hopping trains and jumping off cliffs into the deep waters of abandoned gravel pits was a better and more effective character developing experience that I would argue was in the long run not only safer, but better than being mentally and emotionally poisoned digitally, ironically under the silent illusion of a safety we failed to provide.

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Look How Far We Have Come??


The route to independence for pre-teen boys in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s was paved with paper:


Newspapers.

Before there was a digital, instant-access-age, twice daily local newspapers
were hand delivered to America’s door-steps by an army of young boys, over a million
strong at its zenith. Nearly half of all of the nation’s newspapers were handled by these
young entrepreneurs and I was one of them. Sadly, today that number has dropped to
near zero.

Commitment, being on time, managing your time, honesty, accuracy, math skills,-addingsubtracting,
managing money, counting change, managing credit, marketing, customerrelations,
communication, handling complaints, paper-work, banking, coping with
weather, delays, illness, fitness all of this and more was the responsibility of the newly
minted pre-teen business owner. As my customers came to know me, I mowed their
lawns in the summer and shoveled snow from their sidewalks and driveways in the winter.
How would that reality affect today’s pre-teens and teens?


I attended one of the highest ranked business schools in the country and I learned far
more about the realities of enterprise and life managing my paper route as a 12-year-old
than I did at the university. I’m still an entrepreneur and I continue to use those old,
familiar lessons every day; street-reality forged by experience. I was up-sell-marketing
before I knew it was a business term.


The real tragedy here is that right now, today, we have done nothing to replace that kind
of invaluable experience for our young people. There is a price to be paid for ignoring
this void and if you can pry the cell phones and ear-buds off today’s teens and pre-teens,
that blind spot we are ignoring becomes abundantly obvious by their blank stares and
struggle to effectively communicate.


My “graduation” from the paper-route was to the local gas station, a natural transition in
those days because customers did not pump their own gas, attendants did. Just shy of 16
and anxious to get my license, I was saving to trade my bicycle for a motorcycle and
eventually a car. A service station seemed like the place to learn more about all things
mechanical. Pumping gas for customers led to learning how to check the oil, filling or
changing a tire, even changing the oil, or spark plugs. Over time, even more methods of
mechanical know-how became a puzzle I solved that granted me access to remedies and
possibilities I previously knew nothing about and could not otherwise afford. Knowledge
becomes power when you can solve your own mechanical problems and at the same time
save money and gain independence. It was liberating, empowering and it gave me
confidence. It was a way to advance one more rung on life’s ladder and gain my
independence. I could transform a junk car into something useable and do it on a small
budget and when it broke, I could fix it.


Self-service gas pumping, grocery scanning and a host of other jobs previously manned
by an army of school-aged kids are now extinct in the age of automation. Again, we
leave behind a void and no intention of filling it, yet can we really expect to suffer no
effect? What I describe was my life growing up. Thank God for it and Thank God I was
able to introduce these kinds of working values to my own children, a genuine work-ethic.
Kids peddling newspapers and pumping gas are jobs and experiences never coming back
however, the life skills those jobs and many others like them instilled in those kids
provided a tremendous benefit we fail to provide today. Like everything in life, there is a
price for this failing and we can see it all around us as the mobs of phone-obsessed kids
trudge through life oblivious to their surroundings, mind-numbed by a screen and sadly
lacking of any of the kinds of “street-smarts” I managed to learn.


Today’s parental insistence on the physical “safety” of their kids justifies their hyperinsulation
from the realities of life. Paradoxically, kids will learn the longest-lasting
lessons about safety when parents allow them, (within reason and with calculation) to
experiment with their own judgment and at times be even a bit unsafe. You can’t know
where the margins are if you never push them. Close-calls forge real lessons and develop
better habits much more authentically than a hovering-smothering-over-protective and
lecturing parent. The mistakes and mis-steps we prevent our kids from taking will
correspondingly fail to teach them anything. Failure is a wonderful teacher when
consequences have real sting.


The illusion of safety is represented by a parent believing that the act of knowing their
kids’ whereabouts is sufficient. The actual threat comes silently from screens and earbuds
and knows no safe boundaries. While parents may sit in the same room with their
kids, digital forces from unknown sources are competing for dominance and control of
their thoughts.


The reality of my childhood that involved, literally, playing on the railroad tracks,
hopping trains and jumping off cliffs into the deep waters of abandoned gravel pits was a
better and more effective character developing experience that I would argue was in the
long run not only safer, but better than being mentally and emotionally poisoned digitally,
ironically under the silent illusion of a safety we failed to provide.

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The Mediocre Mind

I live in Port Dickinson NY where exiting onto the adjacent highway is a challenge. Old State Road, a small two-lane road intersects the divided four-lane Brandywine highway at a traffic light and even though you can see oncoming traffic for the better part of three-quarters of-a-mile, a sign prohibits turning right on red. I routinely ignore this prohibition, much to the consternation of my good friend Dave, who is a faithful rules-follower, believing that the fragility of the social order itself depends upon the bulk of humanity obeying rules and following the signs. He constantly lectures me about my cavalier attitude about “rules and signs” and I regularly tease him about his blind obedience to them.

The Brandywine was designed and built over 50-years ago before modern traffic engineering and design standards were conceived. Today, a 90-degree intersection of slow to fast traffic patterns is considered unsafe. Modern speed-differential intersections are either avoided entirely or on-off-ramps and traffic-circles are used, but in this case, we are still enjoying the old and dangerous method.

The stop-line marked on the pavement at this intersection is about 15-feet from the highway. When I approach this, I regularly ignore that line, drive beyond it to the edge of the intersection, so I can better see to my left, checking for oncoming traffic before I ignore that sign and turn right.

Good thing I did that yesterday.

As I gazed up the highway, I observed a white full-sized Ford pick-up truck approaching at a high rate of speed, changing lanes in order to turn right onto the road where I was sitting. As the truck careened around the corner, narrowly missing me, it ran up onto the lawn of an adjacent house, hit a pole, then another, before coming to rest on the second homes lawn, tires spinning and dirt flying as the driver tried to extricate the vehicle from the severely grooved up turf. Had I been sitting at the stop line, like a good little soldier of obedience, I would have been killed by this asshole.

Because I ignore stupid rules, I’m alive today.

Thank God it wasn’t Dave in that moment, minding his own business and faithfully playing by the rules, but dead nevertheless. When it doesn’t make sense, when it’s stupid or ill-thought-out, use your God-given intelligence and reasoning and ignore those things that might hurt or kill you in the process. It’s a stupid, fucking sign. Ignore it and live or relish your blind obedience towards your own demise.

“Rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men.”

— Harry Day

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Open letter to the US Soccer coach

July 9, 2026

Coach Pochettino:

You blew the single greatest opportunity you ever will have as a coach and worse yet you failed not only your players but our country.

After President Trump intervened causing FIFA to overturn the ban on Balogun, you should have called a news conference and said the following.

Although I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the extraordinary efforts exerted in order to reverse the Red-Card ban on Balogun that now allows him to play in our next contest against Belgium, I am here to announce that he will not be playing in this game and we are honoring the initial call made on the pitch. While I believe the call was wrong, it nevertheless stands in the absence of outside influence and even the appearance of impropriety is bad for the game and our mutual association as footballers. Preserving the integrity and spirit of honest and fair competition is more important than winning under a cloud of doubt.

I’m genuinely curious if the thought of doing what I suggest ever crossed your mind?

Had you done this, you would have galvanized your role as a great coach while ensuring the positive impression the United States has made on the world. You would have taught your players a life lesson they would never forget while burnishing the credentials of what we are as Americans.

As it stands now, not only did we get our asses handed to us, but we appear to be bad sports that will go crying to daddy when things don’t go our way. Just think of the difference our loss to Belgium would have been if we had taken the high-road. Perhaps we still would have lost, but who knows, maybe accepting that Red-Card penalty might have energized players and fans and just maybe a different outcome, but even in defeat, had we done as I suggest, we would have been universally cheered in our defeat and respected for our sense of fair play.

I played an Olympic sport at a high level on 3-US teams, captained the team against Mexico and also served as an Executive in the national governing body authoring the sports successful application to the US Olympic Committee so I know and understand sports at the level you are coaching. That said, you failed to see the single most important moment in your tenure and because of that failure, you should resign.

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Denial, Vanity, Faith & Freedom

I have a paralyzing fear of doctors and hospitals.  I’m convinced that if I avail myself to examination, invariably disease, illness and likely death will follow.  Intellectually I understand this is irrational and yet I pride myself on being a rational man.  Nevertheless, I suffer under this enigma and struggle, even today, as I vacillate between what I know to be reasonable thought and action and that other world of inaction and dismissive denial.  I manage somehow to live in both worlds.

With my emotional dilemma as a backdrop, I begin this up until now untold story of my health care journey, reluctant in the telling because I am fiercely private, but important in the understanding that it might help others in similar circumstances.  Or maybe, more likely I suffer this unreasonableness alone.

In 2016, I grew tired of looking down and seeing the unsightly protrusion of what I came to understand was a condition called an “umbilical hernia”.  In more common terms, this condition causes your belly-button to pop out.  When combined with what is commonly known as a “beer-belly”, (which I was and am reluctantly fighting and yet cultivating), it made the overall condition rather unattractive.  I have been an active athlete all of my life and because I wanted to retain that level of activity, I conjured up all of the courage I could muster in order to visit with a surgeon who would relieve me of this condition.  Full-disclosure:  I was also highly motivated by no small dose of vanity and the come-to-find-out unrealized solution to my protruding gut.  The surgery fixed the belly-button but I was still stuck with the belly.

The surgeon dutifully visited me upon recovery and informed me that although he had successfully repaired my hernia, during the process unusual amounts of fluid were taken from my abdomen and additional testing was required.  I was scanned, examined and probed and told that it was very likely that I had lymphoma.  A few days later, after visiting with the oncologist it was all confirmed; stage 3-to-4 follicular lymphoma.

Aggressive chemotherapy was to begin, 6-courses of treatments three-weeks apart.   Good-bye hair, good-bye weight, and good-bye what was heretofore known as a daily and routinely expected quality of life free from illness.  Until it is taken from you, that assumption of good health as a guarantee is a life-changing adjustment in attitude.

The entirety of the experience completely reinforced that irrational side of my psyche concluding that the hernia operation somehow caused the cancer yet the rational me did come to terms with the reality that the hernia surgery actually saved my life, thanks to my own vanity.

So obviously I recovered, but the recovery wasn’t the typical story-book of ringing the bell to celebrate my last treatment and being ordained as “Cancer-Free”.  For me it was that purgatory of in-between.  The doctors were puzzled that they didn’t completely get rid of my cancer, but regardless, I was seemingly in remission and symptom free.  Now my world became that of the endless follow-ups, never allowing for the certainty of relief and again, playing right into my worst, irrational fears that were now becoming real.

The uncertainty is by far the hardest part.  I began to live life in segments, gleefully unburdened of my fears by a positive doctor visit or a lab test result that catapulted me into good spirits for about a single day and then turned back into the grim reminder that my good fortune is measured in the time frames between medical exams.  I feel like nothing can harm me, especially early on during those “good-news” times, but the shelf-life of that comforting certainty is short and quickly replaced with doubt, fear and a gloominess hard to describe unless you have experienced it yourself.  My life is lived in narrow slices of time.

My local, community health care providers were, I’m sure, happy to hand me off to the regional cancer research-university facility that would address the “in-between” condition of my illness.  And so began the 2-hour car rides back-and-forth to Rochester, NY in order to get a higher level of expertise and to hopefully address and arrest this limbo of not quite having cancer, but being threatened by it’s reoccurrence.

For the first few years, visits, tests, scans and exams were regularly 6-months apart.  For a guy like me, this is what that looked like.  After leaving a Rochester visit and being told that everything was stable and unchanged, I would be on cloud-nine.  The car-ride back would be joyful, the air cleaner and crisper, the sky bluer, the conversations, more important, more meaningful.  This state of glee would last for a few days and then normalcy would return, the reality that my life was rewarded to me by my doctors, but only rationed out to me in 6-month portions.

As that date on the calendar for the next visit loomed large, the dread, the fear, the anxiety welled up inside of me.  I turned always to God for relief, and most times I was rewarded for my faith.  But other times, my self-doubts overwhelmed me and the silent, solitary struggle commenced a terrible cage-fight between courage and despair.  The terrifying reality to me was the fact that in that instance, I had to endure this alone, there was no one to solve this, no one to save me, it was me facing my own fears, my own mortality, my own test of faith.  I could not do it without God.

It took me a number of years to get more-or-less comfortable with my relationship with the Rochester caregivers.  The anxiety lessened to some small degree, but that old, irrational fear of more care yielding more bad-news and illness never completely disappeared.  It sounds stupid to say this, even as I write it and look at my own words, but it is the reality of what bounces around inside of my head.

And so finally, we get to the point several years ago when my providers agree that my situation has now evolved into a nearly 8-year remission and the prognosis seems promising and stable, so we go from a 1-year to a 2-year follow-up plan.  Again, the elation at the moment is hard to fully transmit to someone what has not experienced it.  In my mind, this has guaranteed me a disease free slice of life that just got thicker by a whole year!  I was bullet-proof, at least until this September.

I scheduled my CT scan for that 2-year follow-up.  My doctor in Rochester tells me that although there is no indication of any changes regarding my lymphoma condition, the scan has discovered something else.  Something is growing on my thymus.  (I had to Google it)  After a biopsy, sure enough it was cancerous and it, along with the thymus itself had to be removed.  Here we go again with the reinforcement of the irrational yet ironically, this time the follow-up scan for the lymphoma may save my life from an otherwise undiagnosed and symptom-free cancer that is totally unrelated. 

My surgery in late November was successful, except that the growth had penetrated into my pericardium as well as one lung.  Because of this, radiation is required and I start that course of treatment tomorrow, daily sessions, 5-days a week for 6-weeks.  Just like I did with the chemo, I plan on simply integrating this regiment into my normal day; treatment at 8AM, then to the YMCA for a light workout/shower, breakfast and then begin my day.

I don’t know what I’m in for, but I’m all in because I know that God has equipped me.  I’ve been saved twice in spite of my best efforts to ignore reality and then the Lord made it right. 

Here I go again and as always, thankfully shrouded in His everlasting protection.  Thank you Lord.

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Mixed Signals

All of my friends and colleagues were shocked and puzzled by my opinion about the ongoing saga concerning Kilmar Abrego Garcia and as you can see, (if you care anymore), it seems that I am right.  He is still here, even after presidential efforts to disappear him. 

Even after a carefully orchestrated and relentless character assassination campaign with zero proof, the Great Unwashed of the minimally informed that seek validation over truth have made up their small minds.  With the senseless murder of an innocent young girl followed by Charlie Kirk’s assassination days later, for many, the weight of the news cycle buries and paves over their desire to retain information or even muster up the will to care.

Fully armed and sure of their logical purity, I would ask the gang of “the-very-sure” that have the Garcia thing all figured out to consider the following.

Some few days ago, federal agents raided a Hyundai plant in Georgia and arrested some 300 Korean nationals on site.  After nearly a week of involuntary jail incarceration, the administration did an about-face, releasing all 300 and providing charter air service back to Korea.  Come to find out, upon further investigation, these detainees all had B-1 visas, allowing them to be in the US legally.

Trump originally declares they are here illegally.  A week later, he invites them to stay.

These men were engineers here to build the state-of-the-art car manufacturing plant.  Now, completion times have been moved back dramatically.  What Korean engineer in his right mind wants to visit America after this fiasco?

Nobody understands and lives by the mantra of, I would rather ask for forgiveness than seek permission that I do, but expedience needs to be curtailed by the rule of law and the Constitution when it come to human rights and the lives of people.  Those who look the other way or excuse Trump on the basis of what he can get done quickly need to square in their own minds the fact that when those they oppose do similar contradictory things, the scrutiny is higher.  This is the definition of a hypocrite.   

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Disconnected

NYS Governor Hochul (of all the unlikely people) demonstrated long over-due leadership by banning student cell phone use in public schools.  This begs the question of why local leaders controlling the 731 school districts throughout NYS failed to do so on their own?  Who in God’s name thought it wise to provide kids with another distraction or way to cheat?  Maybe with test scores being so abysmal, school officials hoped that the cell phone induced cheating would improve their numbers?

Did any of the geniuses that manage our schools really believe cell phones would have no negative effect?  As it stands, kids are completely intoxicated by their phones.  For many, their social skills suck, they can’t carry on a reasonable conversation and their attitudes, well they suck as well.

History is a fine teacher and I’m old enough to have a historical perspective based on my own experience and I can tell you this, with certainty.  The overwhelming majority of school leaders from 50+ years ago would have banned cell phones from day one.  This is because back then, leaders actually led.  They didn’t  wait for legislation, regulation or questionnaires to know what was smart and what was stupid and allowing cell phones in schools is on its face stupid.  What passes for leadership in schools today is little more than cowardly custodianship.

Waiting to be told what anyone with a pulse knew was a problem and then applauding the effort demonstrates how leaderless our schools actually are.  You see, the youngest members of the educational establishment just coming aboard are also from the cell phone dynasty and have the same social issues and screen addictions as their students.

And to cap off what is already a colossal joke, the governor allots $13.5 for phone storage bags.

Seriously?

Again, common sense goes something like this.  Kids, you have 3 choices when it comes to your phones.  1.  Leave them home, (best choice.)  2.  If you drive, leave it in your car.  3.  Leave it in your locker with the ringer off.  There you go, common sense solution and $13 million saved.

What the hell is wrong with these people?  This is the best we’ve got?  Talk about phoning it in….  

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The Unspeakable Truth

Conservative ask, “What do they, (Liberals) want, what’s the end-game” when attempting to analyze their policies, practices and motives.

It is this.

Control, Revenge, Punishment, Domination.

Today’s liberals deplore personal freedom because it defies the want of their desire for oversight and control.  Preferred is a Master Plan that usurps the individuals for the greater good of the entire group.  Individual freedom is impossible to control and monitor and therefore needs to be suppressed and eliminated.  The basis for this level of control is that the over-Lords believe they are smarter than the hoards.  In their need for self-justification, liberals feel that these great unwashed masses, for their own good, need to be managed by the benevolent intelligentsia they think that they are.

Our founders were rich, white, slave-holding men and therefore have no moral authority.  This allows for the attacks on our Constitution and is essential to justify the dismantling of America.

The USA has been too white, too male, too rich, too fortunate and too dominate.  We stole this land from the Indians, we used slaves to enrich ourselves, we killed millions in Imperialist wars, marginalized women and dropped the atomic bomb on civilians.

Liberals have opened the borders and looked the other way while the gradual browning of America takes place and with it, in theory, millions of new liberal voters.  White men are vilified and systematically replaced with affirmative action candidates that represent a higher degree of importance on checking off boxes than actual competence.

Inflation, purposefully foolish monetary policy, confiscatory tax-policy, manipulated interest rates and energy policies designed to be very costly are all intended to steal our wealth.  “Fair Share” tax schemes fleece the wealthy while the Earned Income Tax Credit pays the poor back much more than they contributed.  We pay people to be lazy while strangling the producers, innovators, entrepreneurs and risk-takers with regulations, prohibitions and artificial barriers.

Once personal transportation ends, and it will if we go 100% electric, with it goes our freedom of movement.  Add to that a digitized currency and all personal freedom is gone.  Anonymity passes into history and everything you do and everywhere you go becomes data.  Once we become a part of a vast database, that data can be parsed, analyzed, manipulated sold and reorganized.

When the people who deplore personal freedom have enough data about you to know everything, you too will be manipulated.  Digital currency divulges your diet, drinking habits, whereabouts, wants and whims.  Your cell phone provides constant location monitoring and your vehicle calculates your speed, accuracy and efforts to thwart the laws of the road.  Privacy dies side-by-side with freedom and the world is a more predictable place for sure, however not a world in which I care to live.

Personal freedom is the bedrock of the fully actualized human experience and we are on a path that exchanges that necessity for the oppressive pit of damnation brought to you courtesy of the liberal notion of perfection by domination.

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