Truth is ... Words Can Last. Just ask Sam.

The Bible. The Odyssey. Moby Dick. The Lord of The Rings. To Kill A Mockingbird.   Classic books that have stood the test of time.  Printed again and again.  Read by generations. The titles of these greatest books conjure up images whether you have read them once, twice --or never.  Their lessons and stories transcend time.  The truth is words can last.

Childhood Treasures

The Cat In The Hat.  Charlotte's Web.  Good Night Moon.  Where The Wild Things Are.  Winnie The Pooh.  Literary heavyweights?  Maybe not.  Timeless treasures for children?  For sure. Their words and characters stay with us like old friends we see again time and again.  They connect us to moments and memories with our parents.  And decades later we share these same bedtime stories and books with our own kids -- or our grand kids.  The words last.  They connect us.

Will and I like to read at the barber shop when we are waiting for haircuts.  Most other times reading can be a chore that Will dreads.  It's work that takes away from video games.

But in the barber shop on a Saturday morning, when it is "me and him" time ... then a good Dr. Seuss book is exciting and fun.  I will never look at Dr. Seuss as long as I live and not see him sitting in the Plaza Barber shop with me - and smiling.

Pleasant Memories, Personal Meanings

Words that last are the Mother's Day card you wrote in first grade (or the Father's Day card Tess wrote for me this year).   It's the the first article you wrote for the school newspaper. It's your grandparent's hand-written recipes for pot pies or sauerkraut balls.  These words bring pleasant memories and personal meanings.

Father's Day Message from Tess

Words for Liberty State Park

And sometimes, words can last in ways you would never expect.  Twenty-one years ago, my friend was publishing Hudson County Magazine and needed some freelance writers to help bring his pages to life with stories about the area.  I had spent a good part of my graduate studies at Fordham University researching the history of Liberty State Park for a project.  It was a place I had known since my own childhood and I had seen firsthand its transformation from an industrial dump to a national treasure enjoyed by families.



I was fascinated with the park's history and fell in love with the story of Morris Pesin, whose vision and advocacy over decades led to the creation of this historic park.  Pesin was part businessman, part politician and part showman, and so I agreed to write an article about his fight for Liberty State Park.

I wrote it.  It printed.  I got paid.  Long forgotten.  End of story, right?

Well, today that article still has a life.  It's framed and hangs on a wall in the Liberty State Park visitor's center.  Check it out next time you visit.

And every summer -- like clockwork -- I can count on my mother calling me to say that she ran into Morris Pesin's son Sam at one of the concerts at the Park.  Sam says hello to my mother and father and tells them how grateful he is for that story.  He asks for me and my family and wants an update.  He points out my parents to other people at the concert and says, "That's the Prices.  Their son Bill wrote that article about my dad..."

Morris Pesin did an amazing thing creating Liberty State Park.  I did a little thing in telling his story.  But words have deep meaning.  They strike a chord and stir memories.  They bring back people lest their stories be forgotten.

Words can last.  Just ask Sam.

PS
Sam and others in the Friends of Liberty State Park organization have kept the article alive on their website. You can read it here.

Truth is ... Success comes along with being nice

"Good night, Emma," he said.  And whoosh, she is off to the car in a flash without noticing or acknowledging her drama teacher's farewell.  Her father slinks behind her, saying thank you and good night to her teacher.

What was that?

Emma is a 12-year old girl. Do you know one?  Most times, she can be bubbly and funny with her family and friends.  The life of the party.  Her impersonation of Grandma's s Ohio twang, or her non-sensical My Little Pony songs, would leave you in stitches. Put her on a stage and she can belt out a song from Broadway to shake the rafters.  Catch her in the right mood and she is the PG version of Sarah Silverman. Leave her to entertain a group of 4 year-olds and she is on fire, a Pied Piper with a fan club.

But put her in the midst of a crowd, a room of strangers, or people she just honestly isn't interested in knowing, and she can seem distant and aloof.  She floats along on her own little cloud, an iPhone in her hand and a song in her head.  She is independent -- and at times oblivious to others.

What do I say to her when she ignores her drama teacher's "good bye" for the second night in a row.  There are  the standard lines about "having good manners ... being courteous to other people ... how would you feel if someone ignored you?"  I try all of those, and I get back, "I didn't hear him.  ... It's not a big deal... I wouldn't care."

50% of success in life comes from just being nice 

I try appealing to her desire to succeed at being an actress. I tell her the the truth is ... 50% of success in life comes from just being nice to people.  A smile and hello.  A please and thank you.  A sincere how are you.  Opening a door.  An unexpected comment or act of kindness.

We all like nice people.  People who are friendly, kind and polite.  Who doesn't root for George Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life or Kristina Braverman in Parenthood.  We all cheer when good things happen to nice people (or cry when bad things happen to good people).  And the truth is ... we want to help them.  We want to be their friend.  We want to see them smile, help them succeed.  We want to believe that kindness and niceness will be rewarded.  

I think about the young people I have wanted to help in my career. I am always willing to speak to the interns and young students who get referred to me, but it's the ones who are talented -- and NICE -- who will get my extra effort.  The college kid who is appreciative, polite and earnest leaves a good impression on me.  I want to talk with them.  I will make a call to help them out.  Pass along their resume.  Give them meaningful advice.  Listen to them.  Pay it forward.

When I started out in my career, I had good grades and had done internships.  It made me more marketable, hopefully more talented, but it made no guarantees of employment.  It was the manager who remembered the "nice" intern, who returned my call and said why don't you come in and meet our new boss who would take a chance on this "kid," open a door for me and become a mentor and friend for life.

Working with nice people makes a difference

I have enjoyed a wonderful career in business, but I have also had my share of amazing crises and dark days, too. When SEC investigations loomed or recalls hit, our teams didn't run for the door. We banded together and did some of our best work. We smiled, joked and got each other through those times because those teams were some of the nicest (and most talented) people I have ever known and had the privilege to work with.

And when the "not nice" people came in, you just didn't care as much.  Your cynicism got a bit thicker. Your patience wore a bit thinner.  Your attention waned.  Your sense of loyalty and trust was damaged.  And you just didn't give that "not nice" person your best effort.  You didn't invest in their success.  Simon Sinek speaks about leaders who sacrifice themselves for others (Why did you do it?  Because they would've done it for me).  Call it lots of fancy things, but the leaders I admire -- the ones who I see as models of success -- are nice people at heart.  See Merriam's definition of nice here -- giving pleasure ... good quality ... kind, polite, friendly.

I am reminded of a quote I had never heard until this year when Maya Angelou passed away and her memorable words were all over Facebook.




Maybe Maya Angelou's words could explain it to my Emma.  We all remember the nice people and how they make us feel.  And isn't that the best legacy -- the greatest success -- of all?

"Good night, Emma," he said this week.  "Good night, Sean," she said with a smile and walked over and gave her dad a hug. What a nice girl, my Emma.  :)

Long drives nourish the brain

I love long drives.  Call me crazy.  Truth is ... long drives nourish the brain. Long drives can be a unique time to disconnect, clear your head and put your mind on a bit of auto-pilot (of course, while obeying all posted speed limits and traffic laws).

And by long drives, I mean the easy flowing, peaceful drives when you are on vacation ... making an easy, daily commute ... or making that same routine drive to your parent's house that you could do in your sleep.  I don't mean the typical New Jersey "long drives" that are 2 hours on the Garden State Parkway in stop-and-go traffic to go five miles on a summer weekend.  Or, the frantic, "we are going to be late for my cousin's [wedding, christening, graduation] again" drive to Pennsylvania.  Or, the let's drive around town for two hours, but make 16 stops for groceries, dry cleaning, recycling, stamps, etc.  I mean nice, pleasant and long drives.

My mind starts to work in different ways when I am driving for a while.  My kids are usually all connected to some iPad, iPhone or iLithium type of product.  My wife is in full "flight attendant" mode, serving snacks and adjusting cabin temperature and can't be bothered with me.  Or, she has absolutely no desire to entertain my "big" questions about where we should retire in 20 years, or my small talk about the family life I miss when I am at work (Tess did what with the toilet paper?). Her glares across the front seat say it all -- "Please don't bother me.  I am trying to get some sleep or play Candy Crush on my iPhone."

Just Drive

So, on these long drives, my mind can go somewhere else.  You can't actually be "doing" something. You can't answer email or discover new stresses at the office.  You can't be on the computer reading The New York Times or checking Facebook.  You can't be washing dishes, sorting the mail or cleaning up dog crap in the yard.

The fact is you really can't be doing anything other than driving -- and you don't need to feel guilty about it. It's like your brain knows it is play time and it can shift into a different gear. Some people say at these moments of mental idleness you can let your mind "sort through a backlog of unprocessed data and empty itself of accumulated concerns." (See Scientific American for an interesting read on this topic.) 

For me, my mind will wander through old memories, think about fond friends or try to crack present problems.

• I might remember that my mother's birthday is coming and I haven't gotten her a gift, or recall where I hid my daughter's iPad when she was driving me crazy (sock drawer, usually.  Maybe the garage?).  
• I might have a fresh thought about a speech I am writing for work, or think about what I need for my next trip (What does one wear for a business trip to a pig farm?). 
• I might take the time for those meandering thoughts and critiques about what I am doing with my life (The idea for this blog came from one recent drive -- surprise!).  
• I might rehash difficult choices (changing jobs, buying new homes) or relive some of life's greatest moments (wedding day, vacation trips, kids' shining moments). 

I also might think about the kids' futures.  Will my son Will (age 6) sleep with his mother until he reaches the legal drinking age?  Will my daughter Emma really follow her theater dream, or become the wonderfully talented member of the family who waits tables and sings at funerals and birthday parties?   And will my daughter Tess really start that combination hair salon/child care/dog-walking business she talks about after watching an episode of Shark Tank?

Confinement, Introspection and Clarity

My wife has no idea that all of this is going on in my idle mind.  She just sees me grab another drink of soda, unwrap another piece of gum, or run my hands through my hair for the thousandth time to keep my tired eyes from drooping.

The long drive for my mind is about confinement, introspection and a little bit of clarity (and if you are lucky, after a few hours, it might also be about connecting with family when they surface from their digital comas -- but that's another topic).

The truth is long drives let your mind refresh, explore unusual ideas and exercise parts of your brain that are normally too  busy to do anything other than deal with the immediate problems of the day -- like how do I fix the cable box on World Cup Final day! .

So start the engine, roll down the windows and nourish your brain.  You may like what you find.

Truth is ... Writers write

Truth is ... writers write.  

I have a friend who gets paid to write about sports.  That is his job.  Imagine that, guys.  Every day.  But the truth is he would write about anything.  As he has said to me, he is a writer. It's what he does.

His comments made me think.  I am many things.  A father. A husband.  A son.  A coach.  A business executive.  A PR professional.  A mentor.  But in all these roles, I am often a storyteller and a counselor... and when it gets down to what and how I do these things -- I am a writer. 

Writing is a skill, but the truth is anyone can "do" it.  In today's day and age, we are all constantly writing.  Memos at work.  Papers and homework at school.  Emails to friends or colleagues.  Proposals and plans for your latest volunteer crusade or home renovation.  Posts on Facebook or 140-character tweets. Typing with your fingers or just your thumbs.  Or even old school -- with pens or pencils. Writing is a basic life skill that we all learn young -- and keep learning to do better, hopefully, every day.

For writers, however, it's different.  We love writing. It's about the words. Which ones do we use?  How clearly can we make a point or paint a memory? How do we string together thoughts, facts and phrases to convey information, evoke emotion, or stir someone to take an action?  Each blank computer screen.  Each pad of paper.  Each post or tweet presents a new challenge. 

I can paint, but I wouldn't say I am a painter.  I can put a nail in the wall, but I wouldn't call myself a carpenter (nor would anyone who has seen my handy work).  I take photos all the time with my smart phone, but I would never really say I was a photographer.  I can boil water, but it doesn't make me a cook.  And, I am pretty sure that if a professional artist saw some of my drawings and doodles, he would be very disappointed.  

Nope, I am a writer.  It's what I do.  Just like painting for an artist, cooking for a chef, selling for a salesman...

Writing and storytelling is part of my core.  And the truth is we all have something in our core that we are.  Something that when you strip away what we do for a living or to pay the bills.... Something that when we have that rare moment to do just what we want to do...  Something that we talk about as our passion or pleasure.  Something that is who we are, what we do and how we like to enjoy ourselves. 

We easily fall into that core "thing."  We get lost in it when we are doing it.

We may spend our whole lives looking for that core, that essence, or we may be fortunate to find it early.  What is your core?  Your essence?  What leaves you saying, 'Yes, I am this.  It's what I do."

   

In this blog, I want to explore and be who I am.  I want to write about observations, ideas and stories that strike a chord of truth with my readers.  I want to share essays and simple posts that make you say, "That is so true ... in my own life."  

I hope my stories will entertain you ...  make you smile.  Maybe they will inform you or make you think.  Maybe they will challenge your views of truth and life, or have you challenge mine.

This is my first blog, so it will be a journey.  I hope you'll come along.