Fathers, Sons, and Golf

I first became aware of the game of golf as a kid when I saw my Dad leave the house at 7:00am on Saturday mornings with his golf bag over his shoulder. I can still picture his orange ball cap, but I don't remember the course name and can't see the logo in my memory.

Dad was an avid golfer when he was younger. He bought both my brother, Jeff, and I our own set of clubs that we proudly took to the driving range with him.  Unfortunately, they were stolen from his car while parked at a downtown Boston garage near where he worked. I never owned another full set until about 15 years ago, when we began playing with friends.

I don't remember when my Dad stopped playing golf on a regular basis. I suspect it had something to do with his perpetually bad back and/or being too busy with life as his first two sons grew and a third somewhat unexpectedly arrived.

My Father still played every now and then. When friends would visit from Indiana they would always spend a weekend at what was then the Sheraton Hyannis near the Melody Tent. The boys would play golf at the hotel course, Twin Brooks, while the girls would cruise the Cape Cod Mall and have a leisurely lunch.

My Dad's been gone almost 11 years, but I just recently went through all the pockets in his golf bag and found several pencils from Twin Brooks.

He also would play on occasion when he and my Mother would visit us on the Cape. Nine holes at our home course, Holly Ridge in Sandwich, with Mom riding shotgun in the cart, followed by lunch in the Clubhouse. He also played when we vacationed for a few summers at the Jack-o-Lantern resort in New Hampshire. Ironically, my parents took us there when we were kids, but I don't remember him packing his golf bag.

Dad would be rusty when he teed it up, but you could see that he probably had a very respectable handicap in his younger days. I'm sure he played at other times, too, probably with my youngest brother, Eric. But, he never got back to anything consistent.

He still passionately followed the game and would attend pro tournaments when they came to the area. My daughter has fond memories of going to the Senior Open in Salem, MA. with her Grandfather, Uncle Eric, and Dad. We got there in time to see the pairing of Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus tee off and sat in the stands with David Duval, who was there watching his Dad play.

My Father was the best at getting autographs and my brother has several hole flags and program books filled with signatures from everyone from Donald Trump to Greg Norman.

He was excited for a number of reasons when my folks finally left the Brighton section of Boston and moved to the suburbs in Natick, where Eric and his wife live. One was that the driving range where he took Jeff and I when we were kids was just minutes away. He talked of practicing there and hopefully playing again at a nearby course.

Unfortunately, shortly after moving Dad learned that the pain he was experiencing wasn't his back acting up again, but cancer. He passed a little more than a year later having never got to the range.

Mariana with Holly Ridge teaching pro Darren Falk

I know he'd be pleased that his seven year old great granddaughter is taking lessons at Holly Ridge; can drive the ball 100 yards; has good club speed, and is an excellent putter.

Since it's summer and golf season, my reading list has featured several books about the game. It seems that more than a few have been written about sons, their Dads and golf.

One particularly touching book is Final Rounds written by golf writer and biographer James Dodson. It's mostly the story of a trip the author took with his ailing Dad to golf courses in Scotland and England, some of which Dodson's Father played as soldier during World Way II.  But it's also about Dodson's memories of his Dad, golfing buddies and final days. If you've lost your Father, the closing chapters might be a little gut wrenching. They were for me.

If nothing else, Dodson's experience made me promise myself that I will take the time to play with my granddaughter. Weather permitting that's what I hope to be doing Fathers Day, nine holes with Mariana and Mari, then lunch at the Holly Ridge Clubhouse.

I'm hoping that someday I can finally visualize that logo on my Dad's hat and take Mariana to where her great grandfather played.  Lasting memories are made on the golf course and that's one I don't want to miss.

I'm living to 120...

... to which my wife says: "Oh, great."

I'm not big into self help books. I think the content is all pretty similar with different versions of the same advice. I feel the same way about books that tell you how to run your business. Same advice, just a different spin.

The only possible exception is the content currently being generated by Gary Vaynerchuk, aka Gary Vee. He owns a highly successful international marketing firm and was an early investor in social media. You might say he's a bit of a philosopher about a number of topics, including living your life and running a successful business. Vaynerchuk's videos have been a big hit with my students over the last few years at least in part, I think, because his language can be more than a little salty. So much so that I would sometimes apologize in advance before sharing one, just in case someone was uncomfortable.

But that's not the subject of this posting.

My topic is how people deal with growing older. I don't know about you, but when I thought about an older me, it was somehow a different person. But here I am, officially a "senior" and it's the same me. People who haven't seen us in a while tell my wife and I that we "never change." I used to believe it about me, until a college buddy recently texted a picture from our campus radio days.

Photographic evidence aside,  I still think I'm the same kid, who was playing "Freebird" on WTBU in 1974.

So my research on Amazon for books about getting older led me to I've Decided to Live 120 Years by Ilchi Lee.

While some of what Lee writes is new age mumbo-jumbo, he did offer a few interesting insights.

According to Lee, scientists say that we have the biological capacity to live 120 years. So if that's the case, shouldn't we at least act as if we could? Upon reaching a certain age, too many people conclude that's all there is and live their remaining years with no sense of purpose. Retirement is seen as the end; nothing else to do but wait.

Lee says we need to determine what we want to accomplish during the second half of our lives. If it's travel, make a plan for several years out. Volunteer? Make a long term commitment to do something. Start a second or third career? Go for it.

Our goal should be completing our lives and not leaving any unfinished business. No coulda, woulda, shoulda when the time comes.

Rome's Spanish Steps

While I'm not a retiring kind of guy that advice did hit home with me.

I became aware late last year of a potential six week summer teaching opportunity in Rome. While I applied too late, I was encouraged to put my name in this September for the summer of 2020. To be honest, I've been getting cold feet. I'll be 67 then. ("The good Lord willing.")  Even though Mari will come with me for at least part of the time, I started to doubt whether I wanted to be on my own for a few weeks so far away from home . Maybe I would be too old for something like that.

But after reading Lee's book, I realized that there's no harm in applying. I know I'd regret not trying. I was visiting Rome regularly for work not that many years ago and have several former colleagues I'd enjoy seeing again. The weeks Mari would be there could give us a chance to visit other parts of Italy. She and Meg did join me on one of those work trips and they have very fond memories -- and pictures -- of charming waiters and cabaret crooners, who sang Michael Buble tunes. Maybe we could find a way this time for Meg and Mariana to join us. Friends might want to take advantage of the free accommodations, My self doubt could cost all of them an incredible experience and I wouldn't forgive myself for that.

In the big picture, Lee writes that "American Baby Boomers who are now seniors have massive power -- politically, economically, socially, culturally -- that cannot be compared with previous generations. The older generation not only has plenty of time, but also the passion to pour their energy into meaningful work."

While it might be disconcerting to think of ourselves as the older generation, isn't it better to be in the game than sitting on the sidelines?

So, my senior and not so senior friends, I have a question for you. What are you going to do with the second half of your lives?

(If you care to share your plans, please do.)

Random Redux

When did it become OK to start pumping gas and leaving your vehicle unattended to go inside and get coffee?

Something to think about from Larry the Cable Guy. (Yes, Larry the Cable Guy.) Turn off the TV news and go out into your community and see the many ways people are working together and helping each other. Not that there aren't serious issues to discuss, but the talking heads and the politicians with the extreme views, who seem to dominate the conversation, are the outliers not everyday folks.

Is it programmed somewhere in our DNA that we start visiting our doctor more often when we reach a certain age?

Here's one I don't understand. Chase Bank recently posted what they thought was a harmless #MondayMotivation tweet with some simple ideas to save money. Nothing that most of us haven't thought of at some point...like eating what's in the frig and not going out, or making coffee at home, instead of going to Dunks.  (If we saved half the money we've spent at restaurants over the last 30 years, we'd own that Florida vacation home we talk about!)

But the twitterverse and the more liberal amongst us -- who I often agree with, but not this time -- decided that the tweet was "poor shaming." So, of course, Chase had to apologize; take down the tweet, and promise to be more thoughtful in the future. I guess you can't be sure anymore about what is or isn't acceptable.

I always admired John McCain. But even my Dad said McCain was too old to be President when he ran against Barack Obama in 2008.  If you haven't read his final  book, The Restless Wave: Good Times, Just Causes and Great Fights, I encourage you to.

After our bout with all that rain, I don't think I could live in the Pacific Northwest.

I don't know if I buy this, but marketing mogul, investor, and raconteur Gary Vaynerchuk  (aka Gary Vee) is predicting that sports cards are the next big thing.

We just had our Annual Town Meeting and elections for local office. I wish the enthusiasm shown for the issues on the townie Facebook pages translated into people actually attending and voting. Lots of excuses after the fact about why people didn't turn out. I'm sorry. I managed to serve in Town government for 10 years, while raising a family, working off Cape, and having a wife who worked full time, too. If people are truly as concerned as they claim to be on social media, they would find the time to attend a one night a year Annual Town Meeting on Monday and vote in an all day Thursday election, which are both held at the same time every year.  It's all a matter of priorities...

The Red Sox bandwagon. On or off?

On Being Uncomfortable

Now that the Academic Year is just about over, I feel comfortable telling this story.

At the conclusion of one of the last classes of the semester of an Intro to PR course, a student approached me to say that she had been "uncomfortable" with something that occurred.

I mentally ran through the topics we covered. It was actually a pretty boring class: an information dump about legal considerations in the Public Relations business. For example: obtaining permissions to use photos, and citing reputable sources like Consumer Reports or J.D. Powers, if you're going to compare your product to a competitor's.

I was pleased that she stepped forward. I was clear at the start of the semester that since this was a Public Relations course, we would be talking about current events. If we wandered into an area that hit a nerve, I encouraged the class to let me know.

No one stepped forward during the semester. In general, I think I have a good rapport with my students. I'm also very careful about prefacing topics that could be the least bit controversial with comments like "We're all adults here," or "This is a broad generalization."

I'm also sure that it's not easy to speak to a professor about something he said in class. (Especially one who is old enough to be your grandfather!)

So, after thanking the student for coming up, I asked what made her uncomfortable. She answered that it was my use of the word "uncivilized."

I had been using the current measles outbreak as an example of a Public Relations and educational opportunity for the medical field. We had talked about it a few weeks earlier and I had been sure back then to acknowledge that there may be some students in the room or members of their families, who believed that vaccinations weren't safe.

When talking about the crisis this time and the Public Relations challenges that the medical field was continuing to face, I said that one would expect to hear about the return of a disease that had been been declared eradicated in a more "uncivilized" area, not a country like the U.S.

I supposed I could have used a better word like "underdeveloped." But my choice of "uncivilized" wasn't malicious or critical of a particular region or group of people. I teach almost all of my classes without any prepared notes, just PowerPoint slides that serve as talking points. So, I'm sure every now and then I've said something that's arguably a little off base. But, this was a first time a student had spoken with me about what I had said.

I applaud the student for talking with me and in no way want to minimize her feelings. But at the same time, I started to wonder how the younger generation is learning to deal with topics, conversations and people that make them "uncomfortable."  That's a very broad term that means different things to different people.

I supposed it's a matter of personal priorities and experiences. Maybe this student's family comes from a part of the world that has been unjustly termed "uncivilized." I honestly don't know. She never explained.

But she did touch a nerve with me, as I never want anyone to be uncomfortable in my classes. We had discussed other topics during the semester that had me half expecting an invitation from my Department Chair -- who was teaching in the classroom next door -- to stop by for a little chat. But the phone never rang.

So, this caught me totally by surprise, given some of the other topics we had gotten into. But I also started thinking about anyone who speaks in public. One of the basics is to know your audience. But, can you ever really be sure today about who is listening and what might make them uncomfortable?

Additionally Random

If plastic bags are being banned, I guess that means we've saved the trees.

I feel bad for Joe Biden. By today's standards his "hands on" style of relating to people is no longer deemed appropriate. While I'm in no way dismissing the feelings of those who felt uncomfortable, he is by all accounts considered a good man by people across the political spectrum. To see the haters take a picture of him consoling his grandson at his father's (Biden's son) funeral and crop it in a way so it seems he's being inappropriate with a young boy is beyond wrong. (The photo didn't identify him as Biden's grandson.)

It just seems that too often we're apologizing. In teaching, I sometimes feel like I'm on the defensive. I can't count the number of times I've prefaced a point by saying "I'm making a broad generalization here," or "Not that there's anything wrong with that." Just in case a student might be offended.

In honor of my recent birthday, I've started a bucket list. (Or as my friend Mike calls his, a Life List.)

Short term items include joining a spring/summer golf league (done) and having an outside shower installed (which I think will happen in the next few months.)

Intermediate goals include visiting New Orleans; Memphis and Nashville; attending Patriots and Red Sox road games somewhere interesting and/or warm; another trip to Italy, and spending time in two of our favorite places, Clearwater and Lake Tahoe. I went to Kiawah Island back in my United Way days for a conference. I wouldn't mind returning, though I don't think my golf game is up to the challenge.

Long term, I want to attend my granddaughter's high school graduation. And if I'm real lucky, her college one, too.

I've also always enjoyed writing and have done my share as a corporate PR person and occasional free lancer. I've taught a number of classes about it over the years, too.  (I'm scheduled to teach Sports Writing this summer at the Plymouth campus of Curry College, if anyone is interested.) So, I'm curious to see what possibilities might be out there for me beyond this blog and the one at the website for my wife's real estate practice.

For her birthday, we recently took our granddaughter to a hotel that features an indoor water park. It was great to see so many young families -- and grandparents -- having fun with the kids. But I hope this younger generation stays in shape. Otherwise, all the ink they're wearing is going to look mighty silly a few decades from now.

Another sign that you're getting older. You're referred to as a "gentleman."

Even his critics have to admit that Tiger Woods' success is stunning. Not that long ago he was hoping to simply be able to walk.

His Masters win reminded me of my sainted Aunt Elsie, who was a cloistered Poor Clair nun for about 70 years. Somehow she became a Tiger fan and would commandeer the TV from the other sisters on Sunday afternoon, especially if he was making a charge. During his personal crisis, she greeted us once by saying "Poor Tiger. All those awful things those girls are saying about him."

But, don't think my Aunt was naive. She also asked us in the midst of the Clinton impeachment why Monica Lewinsky kept the dress!

A Pair of Sixes

Another year; another birthday.

They say that you're never too old to learn and I've certainly had my share of lessons this past year.

I've been reminded once again of the time and effort that it takes to be a teacher. While the schedule and responsibilities of a full time college professor (especially one who doesn't have classes on Fridays) aren't the same as an elementary or high school instructor, the subtle suggestions that you don't have a "real" full time job are similar.

A lot of what you do is invisible. The organization, preparation, and research happens under the radar. You're not always scrolling through Twitter for the latest scores or gossip. You're sometimes looking for a current example of a topic you're teaching. Reading for pleasure is replaced by underlining key concepts in textbooks for a presentation in the upcoming weeks. You listen to a podcast while driving to campus in the hopes of finding an anecdote that you can use in the lecture you're giving in two hours.

Today's students are growing up in a challenging era. The pressures and temptations that we faced back in the day don't compare to what they deal with. While you can be humbled that someone in your class chooses to confide in you and seeks your advice, you can also feel woefully inadequate in responding to their concerns.

Another lesson from my 66th year is that unlike Tiger Woods, who got one of the biggest do-overs ever by winning the Masters, the chances for one more bite of the apple are slim for most of us who are past a certain age.

Even though we can offer the value of our failures and successes, another big win probably isn't in the cards, because potential employers believe that we expect too high a salary or will leave (read retire) after a year or two.

The research says that's simply not the case. Older workers, who are far healthier than previous generations, want to continue to make meaningful contributions and have much to share as mentors and experienced leaders.

That's why I'm grateful that I've always had a second career in higher education and within the last two years have been able to take on a greater role in my wife's real estate practice.  Both are fields where experience is actually considered an advantage.

At this point in our lives, we've also done the best we can to raise our children, who are now adults with families of their own. None of us are trained to be parents. We learn on the job. We can only hope that the advice we gave; the example we set will somehow serve as a compass as they navigate through their own lives.

If we haven't, we need to learn that the decisions our children make are theirs, and not a referendum on our parenting skills. They still may disappoint us on occasion, but give them time as our parents gave us.

By now most of us have learned to adjust to life without our parents. I'm lucky. This is my first birthday without my Mom. I'm also fortunate that my "sainted mother-in-law" is available for advice, which she gives willingly. (Whether asked for or not!)

But more than anything else, as I grow older I continue to learn the futility of hanging on to the past.

Events that occurred months, years or even decades ago serve as anchors that hold us back as we sail into the uncharted waters of our years still to come. We can't change whatever happened, so what's the point of continuing to be chained to it? Take whatever lesson there is from the experience and move on.

I like to say that I've entered "shit happens" territory. I'm not afraid of it or even worried about it. But I acknowledge where I am.

The actuarial tables say I should live to be 91 giving me almost 25 more years on God's mostly green earth. Of course, what the numbers can't predict is the quality of my life.

So I have less interest in waiting 'till next year. I've started a bucket list, and cringe at even the thought of time lost or wasted on something that will never be featured in the highlight reel when my name is called.

Author Michael Leboeuf says that when you "waste your money; you're only out of money. But, waste your time and you've lost a part of your life."

And our lives are too precious to waste.

Lesson learned.

More Randomness

To the person who was speeding and cut me and several other drivers off in their haste to get to church on time, I don't think that's what Jesus would do.

If you've been involved in higher education for more than 20 minutes, you weren't surprised by the celebrity college admissions scandal. Back in my younger days, I served on the Academic Review Board at a small New England college, where I was teaching. As we reviewed the grades and potential of students who did not fare well during the semester, we would be interrupted several times during the process by a knock on the door summoning the Dean, who chaired our group, to the President's Office. He would return to tell us that a particular student was off our review list, because the family had just made a generous donation.

I tend to see things from the liberal side and am certainly no fan of the President. But it was uncomfortable watching the morning network news hosts trying to continue the collusion story when clearly the Special Prosecutor had debunked it. This kind of behavior only provides more evidence to the fake news crowd.

I'm enjoying podcasts more and more and radio less and less. There's more variety, less repetition, and I feel like I'm always learning something.

After watching a weekend of March Madness, the NBA seems very boring.

You wouldn't think that recent stories involving Lori Loughlin and Michael Jackson would have anything in common. What they share is that in both cases the reaction of  a certain segment of the population was to deal with the issues raised by ignoring them. Stop listening to Jackson recordings and fire Loughlin from the Hallmark Channel. The first reaction does nothing to punish Jackson, nor give the men who were featured in the HBO documentary their lives back. The second was a pre-reaction to the Twitter mob, who would have quickly moved on to another issue. Ignoring uncomfortable issues doesn't solve them. People have to find the space in their consciousness to handle both sides of the coin.

Did you enjoy how Bill Belichick handled the wiseguys from TMZ as much as I did?

Why is it easier to forgive than forget?

I finally know what "chalk" and "OG" mean.

This from Dean College colleague and voice of the PC Friars John Rooke's "Thinking Out Loud" column. This major league baseball season marks the first time there isn't a single player who played in the 20th century.

This Red Sox fan isn't panicking.

Yet.