Fifty years ago today, I graduated from high school. Photographic proof: My sideburns and me accepting our diploma from the school board president.
Northampton Area High School does a classy thing each year when it invites alumni who had graduated 50 years previously to attend the current class’s Commencement exercises.
More than 100 of my classmates returned to a reception in our honor, and mingled with vaguely familiar people who reminded us of old friends we used to know! (What a half-century can do to a person!)
Under perfect weather for an evening outdoors, we were privileged to sit behind the graduating class in the very same stadium in which we had last assembled. Each of us was respectfully introduced by name, before ceremonies moved forward with the speeches and business at hand. And at sunset, we stood and sang the Alma Mater with our younger mates, with lyrics that—remarkably!—came back to mind.
Speaking of privilege, the historic day’s other momentous event must be called out. 80 years ago, and 30 years prior to our own day in the sun, boys about the same age that we were then died in the D-Day Operation of June 6, 1944, in the largest amphibious invasion in military history. The sacrifices of our parents’ generation for ours, and for those of today, cannot be overappreciated. We stand on the crucial—and at times sacrificial and heroic—work of those who have preceded us. May it ever be so with each generation’s contributions to the future good of society. Here’s to the Class of 2024!
This complex image was generated by a young man with autism spectrum disorder. He used a computer program he wrote that solved for the roots of millions of polynomial equations, plotted them on a complex plane, then stacked and colorized them by density on a logarithmic scale. Is that something you can do?
Not many of us, anyway. People who are neurodivergent think differently than we neurotypicals. As a result, they benefit from such unique perspectives that they can often come up with new and creative ways to solve problems. What appears to be a weakness in the way they learn—especially during school age, where teaching methods, textbooks, and testing systems simply do not meet their needs—is actually a unique strength, given the time and freedom to develop.
The creator of this image, and of many others of widely varied design, is our son, who had an awful time in school, but who is now a Research Engineer. Learn more about his story in the book he co-wrote, found at tinyurl.com/4c6bxw4s. To see more of his copyrighted “polyplot” designs, see tinyurl.com/plyplt.
In honor of my mom on Mother’s Day, I’ve decided to report on something I wouldn’t normally share publicly. See, Mom was known for her absolutely bizarre dreams. And she has passed that legacy on to me. So as a loving tribute to her, I offer up today’s inexplicable edition from very early this morning. (Thanks for the endowment, Mom! I’m thinkin’ of ya!)
It appeared I had some tiny metal splinters in the middle side of my left forefinger. I tried to grab at them with my right thumb and forefinger, but couldn’t pull them. I then looked closer, and what had looked liked some black fuzz, was now a fully formed, but extremely tiny bird. It was only about a quarter-inch round in size, with bright pink and buff feathers. As I looked, disbelieving what I was seeing, it flew off my finger and lighted on a shelf or half-wall directly in front of a mailbox facing away from me about 7 feet away, and grew into a full-sized duck with similar plumage. I frantically asked Becky to take some pictures of it real quick! I wanted to see if we could identify it.
There were other people standing and talking near me. I still couldn’t trust what I think I saw, and pulled Carol and Ann close so I could whisper into their ears what I witnessed, and see if I was crazy. Then, as I looked again at my finger, which still felt like there was something stuck in it, the wound opened up and appeared as a deep, narrow throat. Looking down it I saw a pair of long black, curlicued antennae, with the tops extending to the top of the “throat.” I grabbed them with my right thumb and forefinger and pulled them up and out. They were attached to a long, narrow black insect, about an inch long, that crawled out as I pulled. I kept hold of it as it struggled to get away, and went over to a nearby sink. (We were neither indoors or outdoors, but both, what with the sink and the street mailbox in close proximity.) And I asked Carol to get something to help me drown it before I let go of it. It was getting bigger all the time, now at about 5 inches, with long legs and curly antennae, and still struggling.
She gave me an odd-shaped cup, like those for measuring laundry detergent, filled with a liquid. I carried it away, crossed the street to what seemed like a boardwalk over the street next to water, and I forced the now 18-inch-long insect’s head into the cup. It seemed to be extremely thirsty and actively drank with its whole head submerged. I then tilted the bug vertically and kept the cup on its head until it stopped moving. It was now about three feet long including antennae and legs, and dead.
I showed it to two men on the boardwalk and explained that it came out of my finger. I had thought it was a splinter! They seemed amazed, but looked at the spot on my left finger, and agreed that it looked like it had had a splinter. The monster bug was now starting to shrivel and shrink. I wanted to get back to show Carol before it shriveled up entirely. But I had to cross a couple street blocks to get back to her. But then there was construction on the parking lot and sidewalk. The sidewalk was all crumbly and taped off closed, and I was in a hurry, and had to backtrack a little to go around the construction site.
Among the little things I inherited with the passing of my dad is what may yet prove to be a lifetime supply of No. 3 pencils, all embossed with his name, business and address. They’re modest, durable, and reliable—just like the man himself.
With two sons living in the path of totality for the 2024 solar eclipse, we had very convenient accommodations and parking in Rochester, NY for the long-anticipated event. Too bad the weather covered the sun’s tracks!
But the trip was not wasted by any means! Our whole family was able to gather for a couple of days of fun togetherness.
The weather the day before the eclipse was crystal clear, and we immersed ourselves on the very blue edges of Lake Ontario. We were even treated to a superior mirage of the distant lake’s surface appearing above the horizon. Looking like an ethereal highway bridge, the apparition spanned a good portion of the northern vista. (A superior mirage appears when the air below the line of sight is colder than the air above it. Light rays passing through that difference in atmospheric density are bent downward, so the image appears above the actual object.) My poor-quality photo was produced from my zoomed-out handheld iphone camera.
Back at our youngest son’s house, the spring peepers were in full voice in a very picturesque pond.
Eclipse day enticed us to Rochester’s Cobb’s Hill Park with a few thousand others who assembled downslope from its hilltop water reservoir. Knowing that the high cirrus that greeted us in the morning would likely thicken and lower by the afternoon’s celestial meet-up, I must say we managed our expectations well. There was a bit of a holiday festival air about the crowd, despite the looking-up let-down.
At 4:09 pm, just as predicted, totality, totally hidden above a thick deck of stratocumulus, plunged our dim world into darkness. Despite not seeing the disks of the sun and moon, it was just as thrilling!
In commemoration of the special event, son Andrew created a limited edition patch on his embroidery machine: for when the sun and the moon and the clouds and the family aligned in New York in 2024.
I was a highly impressed freshman meteorology student when I first met the dean of Penn State’s College of Earth and Mineral Sciences, Charles Hosler. He regaled us with stories from when he was a professor of meteorology in the 1950s and 60s, conducting then-cutting-edge experiments in weather modification. He confessed that if it rained after an experiment, it was tremendously difficult to tell if was due to the experiment, or it would have rained anyway! So the experiments were abandoned, but not before he had aroused fierce opposition from local farmers who attributed everything they didn’t like about the weather to him and Penn State—even accusing the university of flying a black airplane at night to seed the clouds when no one would notice. Once he was even shot at.
Dean Hosler, as I knew him, died last November at the age of 99. Today, I attended the Celebration of Charles Hosler’s Penn State Life and Legacy on campus, in the building that used to house the weather tower on the eighth floor when I was a student (and which is connected to what is now named the Hosler Building).
In the college’s announcement of his passing, it noted that “Hosler was one of the early titans of weather forecasting. He created one of the first television weather shows when he started broadcasting weather forecasts from Penn State in 1957, with a goal of providing more accurate weather forecasts for Pennsylvanians.”
Dr. Hosler received many awards for his research and administrative excellence over his long career. After serving 20 years as dean of the Earth and Mineral Sciences College, he became Penn State’s senior vice president for research and the dean of the Graduate School, and acting executive vice president and provost before retiring in 1992. I was glad to have been inspired by his example and earn my degree under his leadership in the atmospheric sciences.
In the 2024 Iowa caucuses, Donald Trump urged supporters to go vote for him despite a life-threatening cold snap. “You can’t sit home,” he demanded. “Even if you vote and then pass away, it’s worth it.” (reported in The Week, Jan. 26, 2024)
Jerks have a way of making everything about them, without a care for others.
Trouble is, jerks have infested nearly every area of life. Not only do they harm people, they are often contagious, influencing imitators of their poor behaviors. See above.
But to those who are aware that behaviors have consequences, jerks can be great role models—for how NOT to act.
This short list comes from my personal experiences. My purpose in identifying some of the noxious results is to hopefully arrest the actions of potential jerks before they permanently damage other people.
Belittler. He was the VP at Orkin Exterminating, where I worked as a termite inspector salesman, who occasionally attended our daily 7:30 AM sales meetings to “motivate” our salesmanship. “If your customer doesn’t want to buy,” he declared in all seriousness, “you just bring on the tears.” Another time, he publicly belittled our top salesman in front of everyone, to show (I suppose) who was the real Top Dog. Of course, that motivated our guy to move on to other opportunities. After more than 40 years, what I remember most about Mr. VP is his stupidly uncaring arrogance.
• Be a builder of people instead of a demolisher.
Deceiver. When I worked at Kiawah Island Resort, I directed and sang with a small group of interns who performed every Saturday night at the Pig & Oyster Roast. My boss had hired them based on whether they said they could sing. (I was lucky: they could!) But he continually misled them on their working expectations. They, in turned complained to me. I eventually confronted him about his lying, and he broke down and bawled in front of me. I was just 22 years old myself, and didn’t know how to respond to that. What I remember most is his excessive self-boasting to (apparently) cover up his insecurities.
Micromanager. I became one of the first Recycling Coordinators in Pennsylvania when the state law requiring it went into effect, working for the City of Bethlehem. I reported to the head of the City Health Department. Two memorable quotes from his mouth: “Listen, I know more about this than you!” as he berated a citizen over the phone who had questioned him. And in a particularly revealing moment with me, he confided: “I should have been a cop because I like telling people what to do.” To this day, he has been my prime example of the interfering and ineffective micromanager.
• Hire good people, give good guidance, and let them make good for you.
Yeller. I once took up an offer of no rent from a farmer in exchange for feeding his pigs everyday (upwards of 200) and mucking out the stalls on Saturdays. It didn’t take long to discover his unpredictable temper that could explode at any moment. I got screamed at several times a week, mainly for infractions he seemed to make up on the spot. (He reminded me of the temperamental character of Quint in the movie Jaws.) He never apologized, and then carried on as if nothing at all happened. I remember him as a pitiable, angry man who preferred ignorance.
• Get the best of your temper before it brings out the worst in you.
Bully. I sold my business to a nonprofit group that was to pay me over a period of years, but unfortunately didn’t understand the work involved to make it successful. The Board promptly ran it into the ground in 18 months, and then sued me to get out of the agreement. Bullying can be verbal, physical, social, cyber or legal, as in my case; they stiffed me on 90 percent of our agreed sale price. I could have countersued, but the assets no longer existed. I donated the remains of the business in exchange for them dropping the suit. (See Matt. 5:40 for my legal guidance.)
• If you habitually force others to get your way, or to feel better about yourself, seek interventional help.
Such classic jerk behaviors come in many forms. But perhaps the most insidious are those that arise unchecked from within. How many of us have ever been unintentionally rude, sharp, or disrespectful? Disparaging, resentful, or unforgiving? Pushy, flippant, or ungracious? I know I have at times. The jerk resistance movement must start within me.
MasterPoint:Deny the jerk within to prevent its contagion abroad.
Four years ago today my organization canceled its largest-ever statewide conference, just four days before it was to begin, due to the emerging pandemic.
Today is the start of this year‘s conference. And we have returned to same venue for the first time since the “Greatest Conference That Ever Wasn’t.”
And when I opened my daily devotional this morning (New Morning Mercies, by Paul David Tripp), I see my note in the margin from the last time I used this book four years ago.
Tripp’s particularly timely reminder for this day: “You are always facing the unexpected. Almost daily you are required to deal with something you wouldn’t have chosen for your life…“
Today, and every time you face the unexpected, I wish you grace.
Last year, I participated in a provoking thought exercise with my counterparts from other states. We attempted to develop an alternate term for “recreation and parks.”
Schuylkill River Trail. credit: Visit Philadelphia
Because recreation and parks means something different to practically every person, and carries unwanted baggage of being regarded as trivial, even laughable, and less worthy than more “important” things, we wanted to explore what single term could encompass all its comprehensive benefits.
Eleanor Warmack, CEO of the Florida Recreation and Park Association, declares, “If our industry was a corporation, we would have rebranded ourselves 20 times by now. This profession has evolved—we cannot keep using terminology from 100 years ago to limit what the public thinks of our value, nor to allow our profession to be defined by three words.”
In the book The Blue Zones of Happiness, author Dan Buettner cites research from 141 countries to distill what contributes most to life satisfaction all over the world, and offers practical lessons to making happiness a personal lifestyle.
It’s fairly easy to be happy in any particular moment, of course. The challenge is to sustain an ongoing pursuit of what he calls the three P’s—purpose, pleasure, and pride—the universal keys to life fulfillment, regardless of culture or personality. And while personal discipline can go only so far, Buettner advocates “for strategies that make changes to our surroundings…that constantly nudge us into doing the right things so we don’t have to remember them on our own.”
Our governments, communities, and workplaces; our social networks, homes, and finances; and even our inner lives can be “happier by design,” he asserts. Each of his designing blueprints for happiness enumerates specific action steps for advancing our personal and collective purpose, pleasure, and pride.
In the book’s foreword, Ed Diener summarizes, “We now know that happiness is an essential part of functioning well, and that it gives a boost in well-being not only to individuals, but also to those around them, their communities, and their societies. Rather than being a luxury to be pursued only after we take care of the more important things in life, happiness is beneficial to everything else we desire: It aids our health and helps us live longer; it aids our social functioning and makes us better citizens; it helps us perform better at work; and it builds up our resilience, which enables us to bounce back after setbacks or when bad events occur in our lives. The happier we are, the better we are for our friends and family, our workplaces, our communities, and our society as a whole.”
Doesn’t this passage sound like what we strive for in providing recreation and park services?
Now back to the rebranding term for recreation and parks.
Our creative thought exercise was tough. We identified what we wanted the new phrase to embody. We noted that some park and recreation agencies are transitioning to alternate terms, like the Community Enrichment Department in St. Petersburg, Florida. We tried out new phrases. We even enlisted ChatGPT to invent a new word, which came up with such disastrous results as “recrarks,” “culturisure,” “leisureplex,” and “communivital.” Our discussion was quite stimulating, but so far, we’ve failed to invent anything that conveys so much so concisely.
But—doesn’t the above description of happiness come so very close? There might be a case for it. After all, its pursuit is singled out as an important tenet in one of our nation’s founding documents. And as everyone knows, it’s one of the inalienable rights of “We the People!”
What do you think? All comments and suggestions are welcome!
