My relatives came through and lived in Canada on their path of immigration from England, Liverpool and London - in the early days of 1900. Canada was a safe and secure place they rested their hat for a while before continuing on.

This week move with intention and “Make love your flawless moral compass.”

- Peter M. Breggin, M.D.

xo,

Jan

Creating joyful Dollywood amusement park, giving away over 150 million books to children, honoring her dad who couldn’t read.

At 80 years young, gone too soon for us but heaven bound to be with Carl.

Greed is a core value in our times. It bites and nips at our heels.

“Whoever loves money never has enough; whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income.” — Ecclesiastes 5:10

Core question to ponder: what is enough? I mean, what’s the number in your head?

Now, imagine a world without taxes.

Christian girl thinking,

jrs

xo

May tomorrow be a non-icing event in America. Or at least cracks in the ice.

Still without power and heat in parts of Tennessee. Seems like Tennessee is Iceland. Prayers for all of us to warm.

~ Jan

Medical privileges

Today marks the one year anniversary of being hospitalized with compartment syndrome of my right arm, which I nearly lost use of due to medical negligence following surgery. Yikes. Grateful for health insurance but the tunnel vision profit driven, cost-sheering nature of our healthcare system leaves us in a lurch.

Today I mourn the loss of health care benefits for millions — that will come over the next few years. Up to 90 nursing homes will close in Illinois alone — where will these people end up? Back in their adult children’s homes? Picture that for a moment.

The privilege of food

— and well as the SNAP program cuts to food assistance. Really? It’s food. To those that believe, the Good Book shares many examples of how we are to share - and feed those around us

Jesus made the table longer - remember the fish / loaves of bread story? He didn’t build walls, He expanded the table.

You will be the camel trying to pass through the eye of the needle. St Peter will not be on your horizon.

Music, and character - then and now

Last week I purchased a rebuilt piano. Going through the treasured box of Grandma's music, I found original sheet music, pristine condition of Irving Berlin’s God Bless America. First sung by the famous voice of Kate Smith on Armistice Day, November 11, 1938 — before it was copyrighted in 1939.

Remembering that 1938 was still the latter throes of the Great Depression. People were still suffering, the nation was suffering and striving to move forward, one day at a time. My grandparents from ‘Great Britain’ were lovely decent people, civilized with manners, but their children in that year were still literally licking their plates clean due to lack of food in the household. Baked potatoes were cooked on coals in the metal trash can lid in the alley behind their home, tended to by my Dad, rather than use the expensive gas oven.

With this backdrop, the humble lyrics and magnificent musical score of Irving Berlin is born.

God Bless America, by Irving Berlin

I have been playing this and attempting Grandma’s Clair de lune for past few days. My grandparents, immigrants from Great Britain, hard workers plus artists who almost lost everything several times in that decade — my Grandma was a self-taught pianist.

God Bless America — bellows out a sound, a prayer -- the beautiful composition of notes is astounding. I can almost hear Kate Smith. The bass notes that Berlin composes are stirring.

The musical score is in perfect pristine condition, reflecting my Grandmother’s care.

America weeps today. God please bless America and hold us tight as we slip into repeating bad history.

“When the storm clouds gather

Far across the sea.

Let us swear allegiance

To a land that’s free,

Let us all be grateful

For a land so fair,

As we raise our voices

In a solemn prayer

God bless America,

Land that I love,

Stand beside her and guide her

Thru the night with a light from above,

From the mountains, to the prairies,

To the oceans white with foam,

God bless America

My home sweet home. — Words by Irving Berlin too

Uncle Phil was born today, July 4, 1920. WWII Marine veteran. Journalist. From his work as vice president at NW Airlines, he answered the call to NASA in the 1963 - 1968 developing the architecture of the space launch to the moon. Advisor to five presidents. Author of A Guide to Negro History, 1968 outlining achievements and contributions to the nation. Presidential Council on Minority Suppliership under President Johnson. Corporate director of philanthropy in western African nation of Liberia. A true hardworking career patriot in government and industry. Born to Norwegian immigrant farmers in Dane County, Wisconsin. Resilience and forward thinking.

Oh Uncle Phil. Your labors undone. America weeps.

We lift our prayer.

xo,

Dedicated to the concept of mistakes, empathy and forgiveness

Historically speaking

Life is simpler than other decades with the assistance we have gotten from technological advances.

Remember silly things from the past — such as ironing sheets and underwear? How did that matter ~ but it did.

I recently had a conversation with someone regarding growing up in the 60s and 70s. A great era, no helicopter parenting but at the same time — my own parents were so exhausted from the rigors of maintaining a household — they fled the house on Saturday nights for their own relief —

From maintaining the lawn, my dad painting the exterior of the house, hand-shoveling the long driveway from snow, my mom laundry and hanging clothes in the basement w/o a dryer . . . lack of microwaves

On Saturday nights — who wouldn’t flee?

Today

Life is stressful in new ways. Complexities abound. Even the basic concept of truth has become challenged daily.

2024 - Moving forward

It’s helpful with the advent of new year, fresh starts and fresh thinking to reflect on our own mistakes <a list too long to be accommodated here.> This opens the door up to empathy of others’ potential missteps.

Standing by and silently offering a olive branch to someone — can allow them to not go further down a rabbit hole of wrongness — is my observation. Wrongdoing leads to more wrongdoing. The old adage that the coverup is worse than the crime applies. Can we be gracious to help someone out of a rabbit hole of bad thinking?

In 2024, can we apply this concept broadly to others in this year of political division and reclamation?

Observations

I have witnessed too many times — people who went down rabbit holes and suffered with an emotional horror show with their conscience, close to their deaths.

Can we through empathy avoid this hardship to them (and our country in this divisive election year) — by simply offering a nod of acknowledgment, an offering of the branch of forgiveness?

Hmmm

I don’t know. It appears terrible to die in anguish — let’s help them out beforehand. Just some thoughts.

Spread kindness 2024,

~ jrs

Waking this morning about 5:30 a.m. there was already snow sticking to the ground and parked cars. Dreary gray was the sky, it called for a good cup of coffee. So glad it’s Sunday to snuggle up with a favorite quilt, read, talk on the phone and drink tea in the afternoon. Ahhh.

Years ago I had a bedroom with a vaulted ceiling and you tell when it snowed, somehow the snow sound-proofed the room completely and it would be so very quiet, you knew it had snowed before you peeked outside. It was very fun.

Too many side dishes ~ we ate homemade quiche with appetizers because guests arrived famished, glad I had made the quiche on a spur of thought. When you have a small group guests, you can be flexible.

Truth be told, we had chicken this year because everyone likes dark meat only. To compensate from this departure from tradition, we made an awesome cranberry-maple syrup paste to grill on the chicken which was a smashing success (courtesy of Ocean Spray). We also had salmon steak bites. Cheesecake Factory bread. We took shortcuts and were creative with ingredients in other ways, our favorites, and we shared laughter.

My upstairs neighbor had fallen Thanksgiving morning. His part-time caretaker came down to alert me as I often run upstairs if I hear something unusual and I am worried. But I also hardly know my neighbor. The caretaker was returning later — but in between cooking I ran up to check in. He invited me in and we sat for an hour talking. I promised I’d bring him food later.

He is 91, he is independent, a USMC veteran having served in Korea. His face is wrought with worry for his disabled son, whom he is unable to see while his other children ignore him. We talk about his fall and he reports that the local vet hospital is the best, they treat and honor the vets well. I am relieved that he feels loved there.

I feel badly he fell and hurt himself.

Makes me pause and think there are many around us, who are alone on Thanksgiving - or any day. Hmmm. Why has it taken me this long to know my neighbor?

I agree.

Another week dawns to spread kindness.

Collection of love snow photos

Happy week ahead.

Dedicated to musicians, big and small

Appreciate each day

September 27, 2023, Washington — The State Department launched the Global Music Diplomacy Initiative. The timing is breathtaking as ten days later, unexpected war would erupt in the Holy Land. A reprieve of joy — as music does — filled the Benjamin Franklin Room that night and Secretary Blinken, not yet known for his instrumentals and vocals, played a Muddy Waters piece.

The initiative builds on an existing program.

Public-private partnerships such as Google, You Tube and the Recording Academy spoke of commitment. Enthusiasm with such innocence four long weeks ago. This ancient language of music, so needed in the ancient lands afar.

From Conflict Transformation through hip-hop, music extends the hand of international friendship.

The violin, strings

I love the violin for its intimacy. The holder cradles it close to their cheek, tilting their head in, bonded to each vibration created. Violinists, bonded with emotion to their violin and its history. Custom-tailored with re-fittings to size, its mellow wood tonations and meticulous fragile string tuning each time deepen the partnership.

Celloist Yo-Yo Ma, posting yesterday. Such brilliance of play and timing. String instruments offer music sans lyrics. Not easy to sing along, your mind is forced to relax, like it or not.

The Middle East may have unique flavors and different instruments. Is there a commonality of music with Arab populations and Israeli populations?

Music:

it gives voice to democratic ideals, to the powerful and the powerless, across borders and beyond barriers, and to generations of citizens – from all walks of life – worldwide.    (State Department website)

Music could connect heartbeats to rhythm any place in the world.

— Pianist Dave Brubeck thoughts, quoted by Secretary Blinken

Back in the Benjamin Franklin Room, the State Department’s first Peace through Music Award was presented to musician Quincy Jones — for his lifelong commitment to knitting people together through song.

Grief creates a tear, an opening

Before a wound heals, there is an opening. Left alone a hardened scab will appear and then a scar to memorialize the event. However the wound will heal better on its own from inside, if the right environment is fostered. So the doctor’s orders read.

• Music be that timely balm?

• What else can fill that void, the vacuum, that exists in absence of good?

• Music cleanses.

If earthy inhabitants could unite, in a timely way in the 11th hour, on the 11th day in the 11th month — before then please — and listen to some music in the presence of another. Would that affirming fill the raw voids and vacuums?

“With…good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on Earth God’s work must truly be our own.” 

- JFK’s Inaugural Address closing

The world seems too raw in this moment? Can we avoid more hardened scars that never fully heal?

We just can’t give up, all 7.8 billion of us.

This sounds crazy but imagine if each of us today — across this hot flaming land, took five minutes to offer a water to a stranger.

We could meet someone new, show humanity and generosity.

Maybe ~~

• the landscaper across the street

• the bus driver

• your postal delivery person (no A/C in most vehicles)

• parent, child or older person

• Your wife or husband

You could make someone’s day, crack open a heart or two. Meet someone new, learn someone’s story.

I brought a glass out to the landscaper and then brought a refrigerated jug because it’s so hot to be outside.

Just because. I can’t think of an easier way to spread kindness today. Maybe someone will offer me a glass of water today.

Today’s music is ‘We Are The World’.

“As God has shown us by turning stone to bread, And so we all must lend a helping hand.”

Five minutes isn’t too much. I hope I remember to do it tomorrow.

Love and peace, dear planet

Jan

Talk about a fun messaging method — these sugary, crispy delights of flour, sugar, vanilla and sesame seed oil hold vagaue prophecies ~~

What can be more fun when out for dinner than concluding the meal with the tradition of the fortune cookie? The English search for the penny in the plum pudding, but this is much more fun, says this Brit girl.

• Do you go around the table and read?

• Do you share only with a close confidante? (adding a spicy ‘in bed’ at the end?)

• Do you abide by the Rule of the Fortune Cookie?

History, according to legend says this messaging method started with a Chinese-American David (Tsung) Jung who owned / operated Hong Kong Noodle Company in Los Angeles. He stuffed cookies with passages from the bible and handed them out to unemployed people outside his bakery in 1918.

~~ If there is no fortune in a fortune cookie, it is a sign that something good will happen to you soon.

I wish I had been eating fortune cookies like mad all week, before the PowerBall winning ticket was pulled.

Globally, fortune cookies are eaten in Britain, Mexico, Italy and France too.

The Library of Congress folks say that this may have stated in Japan. The Japanese version do not have Chinese lucky numbers and were eaten with tea.

Gilligan’s Island had the message in a bottle floating in the ocean.

So enjoy some take-out or eat in Chinese today or the coming days.

From fortune cookies — to smoke signals — to love notes under your pillow there are many methods to messaging. The more the merrier!

Gracias on this beautiful summer day.

Jan

Sixth in series about exploration and innovation — why does it matter to the soul?

This is the story of my great-grandmum Eda Christian’s courage in a short life. In her honor, I lovingly dedicate the following.

Between 1875 - 1922, in her forty-seven years my great-grandmother with moxey and a limiting grade school education, traveled by a small wooden boat the rough Irish Sea from the Isle of Mann to the port of Liverpool — and eventually pioneered by long roadway to the state of Washington. The song in her heart may have been akin to Brad Paisley’s new release ‘You Only Get So Many Summers.” (Love this song). Here is her tale of spirit and courage.

Dear Lord, be good to me. The sea is so wide and my boat is so small.

Footnote on the isle, isolated they had their own language of Manx, looks similar the Welsh language, which is no cakewalk, so to speak. A quiet, rocky 222 square mile isle with no trees. My family tree, however traces back to the 1600s there.

Yes, inquiring minds want to know, Manx cats hail from there too ~ but I do not know if Detective Joe Mannix, circa 1968 TV series was from the 🏝 isle. I have a friend whose last name mirrors that of the island ,,,, I wonder if we are related! It was a small island after-all ~~ stranger things have happened…

It may not have been paradise island or even Gilligan's Island in the latter 1800's for conveniences. Looks as though you are living on a big rock at sea.

1912, Liverpool, England — James my great-grandfather, a grocer manager became acutely ill with stomach pain and bicycled himself to the hospital, where he succumb to appendicitis.

In 1913, the year following Titanic disaster — using the same cruise line — his widow Eda, mother of five parceled all she owned for tickets to travel from Liverpool to Chicago with her three oldest children. Leaving industrial England behind in the hopes of a brighter life, future in America.

She left her two youngest children in Liverpool out of necessity. Louisa, age 13 was left with an aunt, and youngest Tom in an orphanage — until the family would have enough money to send for them.

“One thing the ocean has taught me all life on this planet is in the same boat.” — Jacques Costeau, oceanographer

In 1914, the first world war broke — and the two youngest children would not travel from England until after the war would end.

1915, a hot summer July morning about 7 a.m. in Chicago, a year after her post-Titanic voyage, my Grandma Emily a.k.a. ‘Dolly’ age 18 was working as a seamstress in a warehouse along the Chicago River. With windows cranked wide open, there was loud human commotion riverside and she ran to the window and was witness to the immediate aftermath of the rollover of the SS Eastland.

As with the Titan submersive tradegy in June 2023, this event in 1915, prompted public concern and regulatory evaluation of maritime safety standards. A hundred years of regulatory safety excelling forward has kept many of us safer than not it can be said.

The family was shook, their voyage from Liverpool had been sandwiched between two maritime disasters, as they still awaited Louisa and Tom.

In November 1918 the break came for the family to reunite when the war ended. My Grandma recounted that her mum, my great-grandmother Eda got up and danced on top of the heavy oak clawed dining table on the news

— prayers answered, she would soon see Louisa and Tom after nearly five years. No texting, no phones, I wonder how often letters? Such uncertainty. Children by nature, are not voluminous letter writers. How difficult.

What allowed her to remain patient, steadfast and faithful to purpose, as I impatiently wait at the Target checkout line?

In 1921, Eda pioneered further west going from Chicago to Washington state by automobile. Did they even have road maps back then for common folk?

My sense of direction was not inherited from Eda, as I can get lost in a paper bag it's widely known…so much being paired with a pilot says me.

That's about all I know of my Great-Grandma but that's enough to love her on.

In January 1922, she died in Washington state. Eight family members, at different times, have walked the cemetery of her burial, and never found a headstone bearing her name.

A few years ago I made one and gave her a space on the wall of her great-granddaughter, admiring her courage as a single mum, nearly a decade of grit, navigating turns for family.

Few conveniences, innovating solutions. She took the options ahead, customized them with bravery and flexed to achieve better results. She was a joyous woman, my Grandma said.

"Make love your flawless moral compass.” — Peter M. Breggin M.D.

Eda's joyful daughter, my beloved Gram.

“This is the day that the Lord hath made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” — my Gram would start the day, opening her kitchen curtains, on Leavitt Street before making her tea.

Happy Friday — only so many of those too in a lifetime ~~ make it a good one! Brad Paisley’s song 'You Only Get So Many Summers.’

Jan, from Mann

Fifth in a series on innovation.

Today we explore how ideas can come together.

As in ‘kitchen sink’ ideas (or this case walk-in bathtubs) —- how brainstorming crazy ideas — can lead to better lives.

Have you ever been in a brainstorming session at the office? You know the conference table for 8 or 12 and you’re just throwing ideas around.

Maybe there’s a whiteboard, or even my personal favorite for creativity — post-its, with color, for the walls. You can move them around as the idea generates into a new ‘process’.

Today I had such a brainstorm session. So stay with me on the connection with the Epsom salt baths and immigration.

Top photo is me today taking an Epsom salt bath, kinda, sorta. Luscious and wonderful, I have not done this f-o-r-e-v-e-r. Musical link for today from Shiana Twain’s ‘Man! I feel like a woman!’ Skip the ads, it breaks the flow~

The problem is: the standard size tub. As I am loving this timeless time, I think ~

• This is so relaxing. That said, how do you get out in a graceful manner says this Jane Fonda workout queen?

I stayed awhile and thought

Tell me why not! Young, old. Baths throughout history have been associated with relaxation.

When I feel this way — after a simple, short - or long - little bath — I am a better person for hours! I am more relaxed, focused and generous. Could everyone benefit from taking baths for relaxation?

Walk-in tubs for all!

Then I thought, just like how

• Dishwashers overtook most homes in the 1970s, and

• Production of solar panels in the 2000s to help shift energy dependence —

• Can’t installing walk-in tubs become the next wave of home improvement?

People are concerned for the people immigrating. I feel it must take a lot of moxy to walk your kids hundreds of miles with only backpacks to escape a hopeless environment. I would be challenged herding-my-cats into the minivan from the mall.

Imagine no energy drinks or snacks to be offered as bribes/ Parenting 101 class. We’d probably do the same. Unless we’re Native American, the families we come from have for centuries been anxious to come to America’s shores, for the promise of a better life.

Maybe we could by fair taxation - provide for the installation of the walk-in tubs by offering this employment to new residents eager to find their way — needing jobs and us and them, stressed out needing tubs.

The workers and us get the tubs.

Oh what a great world we’d have!

Call me crazy ….

Happy Monday.

Innovation is healthy. It lifts and invigorates. Fashion fun ignites and radiates a ‘vibe.’

Shopping for groceries today - a mundane task, my eye caught the fancy of a summer dress by the Walmart checkout. My love of dresses runs deep.

When sixteen, I worked at the retail store Chas. A. Stevens & Co., a Chicago staple in women’s wear — where I loved selling ladies dresses for the next 10 years. I loved helping ladies find the right color, cut, style and neckline — while running to the nearby accessories department to find a scarf, necklace, handbag and whatever popped into my head. Each customer a blank canvas.

I became proficient in saying:

It brought great joy to pair a dress on the rack with a grateful lady. Later it has been observed that I ‘shop like a shoplifter’ because I wander and weave through a store, reminiscent of my salesclerk days, mixing and matching, and returning.

In the 1980s the Garment District in Manhattan or shopping at Bergdorf Goodman on Fifth Avenue (looking only).

~~ Secrets revealed I wear a dress every day. ~~

Dresses are

• Fun

• Easy

• Economical

• One and done dressing!

He shopped at ‘Needless Markup’ (code), an exclusive retail store.

Where did fashion take off?

Fashion got its foothold in the Victorian era and took off from there. Maybe the pandemic has brought the joy of dresses to the local retail shops. Old Navy advertised in 2023 they were offering dresses ‘with pockets’. In 2017, I met a bride who chose her dress because it offered side pockets (!)

Bathing suit fashion — full one piece suits for gents and caps for gals, circa 1920.

Fashion can be ageless — if you try

At age 88, my mom was the best dressed woman at her grandson’s wedding (2017), sans the bride — sporting a custom-made outfit by a family friend. Good color choice Mom!

After the Spanish Flu pandemic of 1918, creativity boomed

and the Roaring 20s followed. Creativity abounded including flapper dresses, Charleston dance parties while surviving the 18th Amendment — until repealed (1933) — which had prohibited the sale of alcohol. But as we know, people partook in cocktails and the like.

In America it’s hard to hold people back.

We’re a hardworking, fun, forward bunch.

In the 20’s — 1900, not now — up in Lake Geneva my great-grandma Florence Nightingale — you can’t make this stuff up — may have not been purchasing alcohol — was rolling her own cigarettes, playing the slots in Fontana while picking up the morning newspaper, near where Chuck’s restaurant now stands.

A dignified woman but letting loose after the pandemic 1918 — was release/ survival.

Fashion is an expression of individuality.

For seamstresses / tailors, creativity beckons matching the details of side zipper, nylon or metal zipper …. invisible zipper? What color? Hook and eye on top?

Fashion can create identity and unity — think sports, office t-shirts. It also creates a space for individuality. Halloween, office ‘Ugly Sweater’ parties, holiday socks and pet fashion. Creativity is a wonderfully fun thing.

I learned flag etiquette from my Dad, a Korean veteran. He used few words, I only remember his actions.

Flag etiquette is elegant in its simplicity. You quietly post the flag at the crack of dawn, sometimes before coffee —

If you were going to display it two days in a row — that meant you did the up and down on both days. Each day deserved its own flag ritual.

One flag can offer more notice, reflection and emotion.

Flags are popular these days.

With many flags on many days, with many causes. . . do people reckon to use flag etiquette anymore?

While my Dad was losing fast ground with cancer, I found a flag that had flown over the U.S. Capitol that my brother had requested, years before. Why keep it in a bag in the closet?

I took it to the fire station and asked if they might be able to help me out with the tri-fold, so I could place it in a decorative display case (Michael’s craft store).

They seemed happy to help out for my Dad given the circumstances. Then folded within the triangular display, it could be out-of-the-closet.

• Are there too many flags?

• Are they all taken care of, with the dignity and respect that the military models?

• Do they ever touch the ground?

• Do people still care?

• How do children learn flag etiquette today? Have we become lax?

In Girl Scouts, we’d use white gloves, ‘post’ the flag, step back with eyes on the flag and then be formally dismissed. In the evening, sometimes ‘taps’ was played and we sang.

At my house, we had the same flag for fifty years and gave it a good home.

I hope that all American flags are given flag etiquette along with a special storage space to call home.

Math is one of the many things I am not good at. But the year 1776, stands out when I think of the Fourth of July. So, my calculations show it to be 247 years old — the birthday.

247 strikes me funny. It’s like 24/ 7.

Somehow history finds us in a spot — where we — without asking for this moment, we’ve have been forced to internally reckon and define to ourselves our personal values and what that means or transposes onto being an American. Or citizen. Phew. Calls for a …

So today time off, let loose and have fun ~~ the forefathers approve.

24/ 7 is always there for tomorrow. Remember today is the best day. We’re all here. Happy birthday good country!

Grandma’s hundred-year old piano book with racists songs included— to a flashback of 1976, the radio was blaring Elton John singing ‘Philadelphia Freedom.’

Long long may she thrive.

Dedicated to ‘Of all the Dads I’ve Loved Before’

1961-1965 — NASA, special assistant to the administrator. Twenty years later I spent an afternoon with Uncle Phil …

and we talked normal stuff in his corner apartment. Born July 4 — you can’t make this stuff up — he was a braided blend of accomplished corporate man and grateful public servant and an ordinary man to talk with, just like his brother, my father-in-law, Dan.

Was it something in the water or just parenting skills? Was it a credit to rich reading environment in local schools? Did they read a lot because they were bored? Both were very keen listeners.

From 1961-1965, Phil had been part of the inner-core Project Mercury, and later Gemini program which accelerated the call by President Kennedy in 1962 to launch a man to the moon.

NASA meeting notes indicate the focus was efficiency based on safety. March 1965 the first Gemini program manned spacecraft launched, and with mission accomplished, Phil moved onto new ventures.

Diligence, commitment and pushing innovation across society and the globe. Whether working to develop economic equality in Africa’s Liberia through the new concept of corporate philanthropy, or back home in uplifting minority supply chains as appointed councilman by President Johnson. He served as presidential advisor in various capacities to Presidents Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Carter, Ford and Reagan.

Open minded, he also published in The Saturday Evening Post, and books Black Heroes in Our Nation’s History, Up from the Ghetto, and New Hope for Problem Drinkers. Busy but humble, he sought out and listened to learn from the paths he traveled and shared what he learned.

Land exploration, with $20 in his back pocket

More laidback was his older brother, and with a pipe resting on his chin, Dan a.k.a ‘Dad’ would capture my attention and I’d hang on his every word. Revered by peers and his sales team, I was curious about this man. In 1935 during the Depression, with bleak outlooks for employment, bravely took a chance and at age twenty he hitchhiked from Dane County, Wisconsin to L.A. with $20 in his pocket.

Hitching rides from truckers heading west on Interstate 80, he credited the trip to the grace of others. He’d offer gas money but drivers were thankful for the companionship instead. A driver would drop him off, as they turned off a needed exit and he’d walk until someone else picked him up for another segment of conversation.

This edgy bare bones survival experience, before the advent of cells or texting, and during the height of the Depression taught him about the back & forth nature of people. Riding and talking to different types of people, listening to their personal stories taught him the nature of people.

He signed inter-office memos D.A.D. as were his initials and was referred to as ‘Dad’ by the company’s 300 employees. Sought after to confer with, you were always safe with him, he kept a confidence. He was a gentle giant of a man, usually in his office, alone working. He never came in early, nor stayed late.

The last 15 minutes of the day, he’s come out to the ‘typing pool’ and just chat about the weather, news or daily chitchat. Then he’d leave with the rest of us on the elevator. That was appreciated by his employees. The everyday-ness of him, is what earned him such high regard by others.

Dad believed in carefully hiring people and then believing in them. He granted long leashes for creativity to explore new ideas and ways. He built bonds of trust by being someone that others could trust.

A good sense of humor. Only ‘Dad’ at the podium could deliver a one-liner at the annual company sales meeting after the discovery of an item in the crook of his arm due to static cling. Legendarily lovable was he. And did people ever produce for him, you just didn’t want to disappoint him, you’d aim to please with vigor and detail. Blessed was I to have worked for my future father-in-law in a corporate setting. We later joked that my employment as a long interview.

I wish I had known Dan and Phil’s parents, Norwegian immigrants. Phil and Dan lost a sister in childhood and were raised in rural Wisconsin. Hardy stock.

Speaking of pipes, those were days where people smoked in the office, hard to believe!

Remember fashionable ashtrays? — don’t get me started ~ maybe a road trip with music is the antidote.

Innovation and its change can be invigorating.

Your mission, should you decide to accept, is to have a great day and as always, thank you for subscribing.

Signed,

Daughter of career federal agent, ladened with piles of IRS regulations — Love you Dad to the moon and back. xo

Innovation and creativity make the world go ‘round.

Freedom to create, collaborate, speak truth to each other, make corrections. Perfection exists if scrutiny can be used to help check and perfect. The pencil sharpens sharper when there is peer-reviewed collaboration.

I’ve always loved the Atlantic Ocean. It lures and seduces you to its rocky shores and to board its boats. Rough and mighty, its waters squeezed between continents of Africa / Europe, and in the cape I sail, the water jiggles with force, and yet …

… there we are --- a mile from shore with a speck of land in sight via binoculars, when visited by a congenial oversized resident. Confident park district swim lessons would sustain me, Lila and I, not a life-jacket in sight. Calm as cucumbers in the gracious whales’ home waters (check out the soda can & straw in photo #2). A humble one-motor boat, before the advent of cell phones and GPS, it felt like a wonderful rowboat in the ocean. And we had a blast.

Like Galileo, we used the sky as the compass of when to start back to shore in time to avoid the unforgiving darkness. I look at this and remember how people are driven to the mystery of the ocean. Not ever a strong swimmer, another time we swam off another friend’s boat when miles from shore, again counting on park district swim lessons, with no life-jacket. ~ yikes. I guess we are all subject to losing our bearings when fun beckons.

The oceans’ mysteries seduce. Being human people lose their heads and don’t use their full faculties to deduce and can be prone to being overly driven, or successful.

Grateful that small foires in tiny boats were safe ones and for regulations that seek to perfect innovation through broader collaboration. Unlike people, the oceans’ baseline can be fierce and unforgiving. This week was a difficult witness.

“Dear Lord, … the sea is so wide and my boat so small.”

What are elements of innovation?

Visuals offer the opportunity to not talk. Plus they can be concise and often unflappable in meaning. Happy Juneteenth wishes sent into the universe!

we found him outside in the dark checking on the neighborhood luminaries that lines our street to the church. Weeks beforehand, Dad had stashed away extra milk jugs in case some neighbors ran short. Filling them with sand and a candle, tending to them like a garden. Doing the quiet invisible work for community that defines a good man.

No agendas. Let’s return to these days and nuture those around us. Dads and heavenly dads are counting on us.

This picture is especially endearing to me because it involves light. A light in the darkness. ‘this little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine’