Yesterday I retired from my ten-year tenure as the CEO of the Pennsylvania Recreation and Park Society. It was a fabulous run!
Today, I begin as the part-time President of the new People, Parks & Community Foundation. The potential is vast!
Grateful for the privilege to serve both organizations, I now step forward with new aspirations to connect people and places, and neighborhoods and nature, in difference-making impacts. Bring it on!
My son once critiqued a movie as just a series of people staring at things. And I think he was justified in that one. But in our recent first-time visit to Seattle, Washington, we found that staring at things is what we did most productively.
First, I had a professional purpose to the trip: the city was hosting Greater & Greener, a biennial international urban parks conference for urban planners, park innovators, and policymakers. (I missed the last forum two years ago, hosted in Philadelphia in my home state, because that’s the week I suffered a passing-out case of covid!)
So the prime point of view was first to learn from the expertise and vision of those around the globe who are doing remarkable work in harnessing the power of parks to create more sustainable, resilient, vibrant, and equitable cities. Its opening reception was held at Pier 62 Waterfront Park, and its closing reception at the Seattle landmark and National Register of Historic Place Gas Works Park at Lake Union. Enlightening and beautiful!
But of course, while we were there, we took in the peculiar, picturesque sights of the city—starting with the famous Space Needle, with views from the ground, our hotel window, and from its top—from its rotating glass floor.
We toured The Marketplace, with its crowded cacophony of fishy smells, offbeat wares, cafes, retail niches, and sideshows. We rode the city’s famous Monorail, built for the 1962 Seattle World’s Fair, sitting right up front next to the young driver who engaged us in conversation about its unique history. We walked the fascinating streets, marveling at the variety of transportation methods, its quaint nooks, and its gleaming modernity. We gaped at the Norwegian Bliss, a cruise ship of 22 decks (!) docked at the terminal on Pier 66.
We particularly enjoyed the Chihuly Garden and Glass Museum featuring the career work of artist Dale Chihuly in eight galleries, a centerpiece Glasshouse, and a lush garden.
We very much found Seattle—with its uncommonly good weather during our stay—a particularly enticing city with a rich palette of intellectual, visual, cultural, and historic vistas. 5 stars.
Today’s news announced that the 2034 Winter Olympic Games will be returning to Salt Lake City, Utah, the host of the 2002 Games. Yay for Team USA!
Carol and I recently enjoyed a guided tour of Salt Lake’s Olympic Village following a professional conference at a nearby ski resort. It was a thrill to gaze down from the top of the 120 meter ski jump. The mountains in the distance offered just as spectacular a view—but less dizzying!
I am now a bobsledder, if one run makes one so! Set on wheels for the summer tourist runs, and piloted by a trained driver, the daring can team up with three other brave souls and hurtle down the track at 70-75 mph, experiencing 3-4 Gs—starting right past the sign that warns “severe injury or death can occur beyond this point.” (Here we see the only bobsled Carol would get in: bolted to the concrete!)
We did receive a brief prep: put on this hoodie, and this helmet. When you fold yourself into the sled, bend your knees, but angle your feet flat on the floor; extend your hands through the wrist straps; hunch and hold your shoulders up to cushion your neck and keep your head from flopping around. Now push outward with your arms against the sides of the sled to keep you inside. One thing more: breathe! And with that, the attendant gave us a walking push down the innocuous-looking track.
Fifty-eight wild, jarring seconds later we reached the bottom: shaken, not stirred. And I discovered that I was out of breath. Apparently, despite the advice, I forgot to breathe!
We enjoyed lunch on an observation deck by the Freestyle pools where would-be Olympians of all ages took turns cruising the slopes down and up into a flip into the bubbly water below.
We then left Olympic Village for the Weber River valley. At Weber Crossing in 1846, the Donner party was left a note instructing them not to go through Weber Canyon. Instead, they blazed a trail to Salt Lake Valley, which the Mormons followed for the next 22 years.
But we, aboard a bus, arrived at the same site for a more recreational sojourn: a mostly calm raft ride, save for a few surprisingly placed rapids. One raft from our company approached a boulder from a slightly wrong angle, and two of our friends promptly pitched into the fizzy drink. We were able to drag one of them into our raft, while the other unfortunate was rescued by her own mates. We then stopped and gave the soaker back.
Near the end of the river journey, our guide instructed us to lie sideways across the raft, facing up. We soon discovered why: the river was a bit high, and that’s the only way we’d fit under the upcoming concrete bridge. During that brief, darkened passage, I hand-spanned the distance from my forehead to the bridge’s flat underbelly. Our friends in the other raft had to stop and portage around the obstacle.
The river and mountain scenery was gorgeous, but of course we didn’t bring our cameras or phones along. As the guide explained, “your phone may be waterproof, but it sinks.” So we have glommed a few pics from others.
(Carol and I were in Utah while I attended a meeting with my counterparts from other state park and recreation associations. One night, we dined in a basement restaurant with curtained corner booths that reminded us of the Harmonia Gardens in Hello Dolly! This year, many of us opted to take an extra day off the clock to enjoy some of the special attractions of northern Utah. This other view I call Sunset Strip: straight down Main Street, Park City, UT.)
We ended our lovely, exhausting day with a barbeque at Wasatch Mountain State Park, where the lingering sun didn’t even begin setting until after 9 pm local time.
a deserving annual recognition
Celebrated all across the country today is Park and Recreation Professionals Day—an annual, deserving recognition of those who work to keep our public spaces clean, safe and ready to use.
These dedicated professionals preserve, maintain and improve our natural and cultural assets that support local economies, healthful and active lifestyles, and vibrant and resilient communities. They and their diverse public services are truly indispensable!
And it pleases me immensely that the Day’s special purpose, which I conceived while walking on a neighborhood trail six years ago, has since been so embraced by people nationwide, who recognize and celebrate what these local heroes bring to their own communities.
Earlier this week I attended the Centre County Commissioners to receive their Proclamation of the day. Today I was privileged to present at a “Spotlight Celebration” highlighting Butler County’s exemplary park and recreation staff, programs and facilities.
I join with Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro in encouraging all “to learn about the remarkable work of park and recreation professionals… and support their efforts by exploring our beautiful local, state and national parks.”
The Council of State Executive Directors met this week in Park City, Utah. The annual gathering focuses on trends and best practices of association management, and mutual issues in the recreation and park profession.
But we are more than just colleagues. We are a gregarious, fun, engaging (and exhausting!) bunch who continually and passionately invests in each other. This is my greatest gang of professional associates and personal friends – my collective, got-your-back brain trust. I appreciate and love them all.
Everyone needs such a herd. Who’s in yours?
an inalienable right
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.”
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.”
Such a new term could indeed rebrand our entire industry and lead to universal recognition of its value! But whatever the word is, it must express all its connections to health and wellness, environmental sustainability, social equity, economic stimulation, infrastructure and resiliency, people development, community livability, and, of course, recreation and leisure services! (See Recreation & Parks’ Internet of Things, 50 Ways Parks and Recreation Pay Out Every Day, and Are We Building People—or Just Running Programs?)
Now hold that thought.
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!
the history, lore, and how-to behind this sweet treat
If you’re a fan of maple syrup, you’ll love my little book about the history, lore, and how-to behind this unique North American treat. Learn the Natives’ stories, the methods of the colonists, and the modern innovations that make syruping a $1.4 billion global industry.
But if you’d like to try a little do-it-yourself sugaring in your backyard, this is also the source to help identify your maples, properly tap them, and boil off the sap to make your own home-grown sweetness. Recipes included!
And even if not, you’ll still want to get out and enjoy a maple festival near you, conducted by your friendly neighborhood naturalist.
Storey Publishing outdid itself in the highly attractive design of this perennial favorite, and I remain grateful to their fantastic editorial and production staff!
grateful for those who keep our parks clean, safe, and ready to use
From a concept that occurred to me during a simple trail walk four years ago to yesterday’s national celebration, I am thrilled with the attention and gratitude it brings from all over the country to all those who keep our parks and public spaces clean, safe, and ready to use. These unsung heroes deserve it!
It is these committed behind-the-scenes workers who ensure that when:
I was privileged to attend one of those public celebrations, hear a local Proclamation honoring their staff, and present a commemorative plaque to my colleagues of the Carlisle Borough Parks and Recreation Department at their community pool.
But if you missed yesterday’s occasion, you don’t need to wait until the next third Friday in July. Next time you visit a park, consider it a tribute to your local park and recreation providers to just mention a little thanks to the programmer, manager, maintainer, landscaper, facilitator, lifeguard, coach, event organizer or caretaker.
in the Cradle of Liberty’s most iconic places and spaces
This past week I had the honor to be included in a bit of wining and dining by the City of Philadelphia making its pitch to host my profession’s national conference in 2026. That will be the year of our nation’s 250th Anniversary, and the Cradle of Liberty was polishing its shine for us.
My colleagues and I were treated to whirlwind of visits to the convention center, hotels, and venues capable of hosting several hundred to eight thousand people during what would be a spectacular week full of professional development, learning, and networking.
From the thirty-third floor of the Loews Hotel we gaped at the Philly’s distinctive skyline and riverfront. We toured the expansive Pennsylvania Convention Center, inhabiting the old station of the Reading Railroad (of Monopoly fame). Reflective of that legacy, its grand entrance area depicts the iron rails still leading to the stopblock columns at the end of the line.
We swung by Love Park, Boathouse Row, and the Eakins Oval, where we met the artist painting a 450’ x 75’ mural about Ben Franklin and his kite on a sometimes-parking lot. We lunched at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Its most popular sculpture of Rocky Balboa, now moved to the bottom side of its iconic front stairway, still draws 200,000 people a year.
We toured the Tustin Rec Center, where its new basketball court memorializes Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna. Tustin’s playground is where the former Los Angeles Lakers star frequented when he was younger, and the refurbished court is now making the sport more accessible to children in a safe environment.
We skipped through the Reading Terminal Market (an eclectic and busy gastronomic bazaar of more than 80 merchants), dropped in at the Barnes Museum, called on Ben at the Franklin Institute, and viewed the Fels Planetarium.
But my most memorable moment was a well-appointed evening meal in the National Constitution Center with a grand, inspirational view of Independence Mall. Facing “America’s Most Historic Square Mile” containing Independence Hall, The Liberty Bell, Franklin Court, Declaration House, and many more historically significant sites, I was both enthralled and grateful just to be there.
in the lustrous month of May
A walk in the local park this evening featured many sights and scents of the season. All were found by the side of the walking/biking trail in the natural profusion of a splendid springtime.
I’ve identified them by common name, but you may know them by others, since many have up to a dozen or more aliases. Some of the most noticeable fragrances came from some of the least flashy flowers, like common buckthorn. Some of the most intricate fruiting bodies were found on trees, like the delicate cones of the larch. Some were tiny and low to the ground, like gill-over-the-ground, while others were showy and full of themselves, like the Japanese snowball viburnum.
I also noticed many walkers, bikers, joggers, and happy doggos sharing the route through the park during this grand evening. We were even treated to an authentic garage band (in its garage!) playing 70s tunes for the appreciative listeners in lawn chairs across the street at the park’s perimeter.
There’s lots to appreciate outdoors. Now get out! It does a body (and mind) good!
