A beautiful, early fall night in the city. A cool breeze whispers above the rumblings of the bus on South Charles Street while the chattering rotor blades of a police helicopter puncture the night sky. With that I start another entry, albeit nine days since the last one.
I took Izzy to her Daisy meeting tonight. That's the kindergarten version of the Girl Scouts. I volunteered to design their newsletter. But between work, the AIGA board and family duties (this would be one) plus teaching, I may be a bit overloaded. I think it's important for Izzy and that's the main reason I'm doing it. I want her to have every opportunity to make good friends in the neighborhood. My biggest fear is that she'll be left out or get picked on because she's so sensitive. I hate to say this because it sounds so damn elitist but it's better to make friends at an early age, because after that cliques form and are hard to break into from the outside unless you have an exceptional personality. I'm not saying Izzy isn't capable of that but I'd rather not put her through the potential struggle.
Tomorrow is Erev Rosh Hashanah and I think we are all going to go to the serivces at Hopkins. They are short, about an hour, and come in both reform and conservative flavors. By myself on Saturday, I will go to the conservative service but for Karen and the kids, I will go to the reform. Exposing the kids to Judaism really is a goal of mine. Despite Izzy's going to Catholic school, I feel it's important that she know just as much about Judaism. I don't feel that I have been doing as good a job as I can with that. But I've spoken to Shira about spending the holidays with her family and she thinks her parents would love the opportunity to share with the kids. So, while it's a bit late for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur for this year, I think I'll set something up for Passover. That's a good family holiday to start sharing with and I actually miss doing a Seder.
On the work front, it seems as if I'm struggling a bit with managing my direct report in NY. While I do have the disadvantage of not being in the same office, I also think I've been too laid back about certain things and really just need to get more assertive and proactive. It may get ugly but that's the price of leadership. What's the quote, it's better to be feared than loved? From Sun Tzu's Art of War, which I've only read once but really need to re-read. It has some great stuff on strategy that is quite applicable to the business world. And it's definitely one of the great texts of all time.
I've found the way to design my own site and get out of this template stuff, but it may have to wait until teaching is done because my time is short and I'm really going to start trying to get to bed eariler instead of my staying up until one and two in the morning.
Good night, shalom, peace.
A lot has occured in the past two days and I am quite tired. So, while I have a lot to share, I don't necessarily have the energy to spend on that sharing. Most importantly, I went to my Dad's appointment at Sloan-Kettering and things went well, the upside being that the doctor didn't feel that the cancer was the progressed and that my Dad was a good candidate for a medical trial. Of course, that means he'll have to be in NYC for six months during the course of the trial, but I think that is what he and Mary Ann will end up working out in some way. I will do what I can to help.
Had dinner with my favorite cousin Shira, and we talked about everything from life to death, alternative medicine, the link between the mental and the physical, religion and the pursuit of dreams. Like I said, a lot has occured in the past thirty-six hours, and this was just dinner. We ate at a great Thai restaurant in SoHo. Okay, I feel as if I'm drifting and not really adding any words of substance.
So, on that note, I'll sign off. Peace. Shalom.
You have to wonder if any of us will ever be able to write anything on this date without mentioning the horriffic acts of two years ago. My old NY office was right across the street from the Trade Centers and it still stands, darkened, as a stark reminder of what happened. Draped in a dark shroud, waiting for its own untimely end.
As for me, I've spent tonight dealing with more simple problems like Quark crashing a document that was supposed to be in my boss's hands around 10 pm, didn't get to him until 11:30. And it's really not even done, I did manage to get all the content formatted and the inside layout done. I'll be able to finish it up, if it doesn't crash again, later this morning at the office.
Another cool, September night. Comfortable though, like a great night for camping. Anyhow, I'm about to fall asleep so more tomorrow?
It would appear that with all the beautiful weather I took a few days off from writing. As it passes into Monday morning, though, I'm back out here on the deck. Enjoying the still summer night in the early days of September, a hint of autumn mixed in with the whir of multiple air-conditioners clinging to their last bit of freon before we all turn on the heat. It's kind of funny, all these air conditioners running so loudly and even here, right downtown (okay, six blocks south of "right" downtown) they are about the only sound I hear.
I haven't quite decided how I want to hanlde this little dialogue. I have a lot on my mind between my father's illness, my family, my life in general, and my thought's on branding. It's almost as if each beckons for it's own stage.
Who am I? It's really a good question. For one, I'm a Yankee fan that gets to eat a little crow for throwing that two out of three ain't bad commment at my Red Sox friends. At least the Yankees salvaged one game and now I get to route for the Orioles to beat the Sox. I'll be at tomorrow night's game. Oh yes, you see how easily distracted I get. Back to me.
First, I am a husband and a father. I have a beautiful, patient wife who likes to keep her privacy so out of respect, I will limit my writings about her and our marriage. We have two wonderful children who I can only admire and love unconditionally as they make their way through the world. Our oldest, Izzy, is five and our youngest, Liam, turned 18 months today. While being a parent in the hardest job anyone can have it is also the most rewarding. I cannot tell you how special it is unless you live it. I won't say it's perfect, for we all have our moments, but I wouldn't trade it for the world (being a Dad to my kids, that is).
Professionally, I am a late thirty-something art director/graphic designer/production manager for the institutional marketing group of a large mulitnational corporation. I have, through no fault of my own, become something of a branding expert, mostly learning what I see as the wrong way to manage a brand rather than the right way.
I've already shared a small bit about my Dad. In addition to him, there's his wife. My Mom never remarried after their divorce and lives with her best friend. I have two sisters. One is married and the other in a committed relationship. Both of them live in the South.
It seems I've written a lot and not a thing. I could go on but I've got to make my daughter's lunch for school and it's thirty minutes past midnight.
Let's do this. This week's agenda will include, my first treatise on global branding, my thoughts on how protective one needs to be of one's child (related to biking) and a page on how me and my sisters have been dealing with my father's illness.
For now, peace, shalom.
It's dark out and the night creeps slowly into morning. I'm out on the deck, there's a slight drizzle but I'm holding on to my desire to write outside. Dawn is only a few hours away but I held awake by the double cafe latte I consumed around 8:30 after my AIGA Board meeting.
Actually, the battery on the laptop is getting pretty low, so I guess I'll have to move indoors since I don't have the long extension cord. But before that I can say that the news on my Dad is not great. If anything, it is strange. His doctor told him that he has between 11 months and ten years to live. What kind of diagnosis is that? I mean I'm sure the doctor was being honest in his observation, that being that in his experience people in my Dad's condition, have lived that short or that long. But where's the hope, or the despair? It's almost left in limbo, or at least a major depression balanced by some hope.
Leaves me a bit befuddled. I can only wonder how my father must feel. Of course, he puts a brave face on for the family (the kids). He's so much like my late grandmother (his Mom, the late great Nonni Betty, aka The Manager) with the exception that he tells us a little more about what's going on. Okay, down to 10% power, moving inside.
Yea, I prefer writing out on the deck. It feels more real for some reason. Not sure why. Oh well. A message to all my friends who are Red Sox fans, "Two out of three, ain't bad..." Of course, they did manage to pick-up 1.5 games over the past two days. Okay, good night. Peace. Shalom.
You know it's the unoffical end of summer and it's a cool, comfortable morning. Liam and I are hanging out on the deck, overlooking the skyline and I just thought I'd share this moment. Imagine, admiring the work of good and bad architects while sipping your morning java, thinking about how good you have it despite all the struggles and worries in the world. It's these simple times I treasure. Now, unfortunately or maybe fortunately, my 17-month companion has told me he has "poopy" which means it's time for our morning diaper change. Another one of life's little moments.