Wednesday, February 28, 2018


Vicious cycle
Given all of the hoopla going on in Washington,
it's obvious our country is askew. Politicians,
lobbyists, and organizations are scrambling
to adapt to our ever evolving culture. While
those resistant to change are digging in for
the long haul. All of which creates a national
climate of discontent, disenfranchisement, and
discord. Yet if one steps back and looks at the
mess from afar they might see that nothing is
unusual. But instead discover that we're once
again in the midst of an adjustment process
that ultimately may take us to a better place.
That is if we can survive being "recycled".

On the brink
History shows us that our lives and related
national phenomena are cyclical. Hence we
all experience collective and personal highs
and lows as we transition from one phase of
existence to another. Some handle endless
evolution with dignity and aplomb. Others
resist forces beyond their control . Fighting
to maintain the status quo. Or even worse to
maintain some prior nirvana that at this point
is historical fantasy at best. However in the
midst of what some might deem hell on earth -
it's tough to rise above one's circumstances.
Hence we're stuck in a morass of mendacity.

Three times a charm
Yesterday I spoke to three dear friends in the
midst of crisis. One a corporate honcho who
is preparing to exit the business as gracefully
as possible. Another recently packaged out
post serving in leadership roles for decades.
The third and final is the owner of a firm
perched on the edge of extinction. All three
have three things in common. First they can't
wait for their painful transition to end so that
they can explore their new found freedom.
Second, they question "next" given they no
longer trust corporate entities. Finally, all
wonder why their "gut" instincts were wrong.
Sink or swim
Having the carpet ripped out from under you
is rarely uplifting. Rather, an adverse change
of circumstances is akin to falling face down
on the pavement. Not only is it mortifying,
slamming into an obstacle is beyond painful.
Yet, what choice do most of us have except
to as Fred Astaire warbled - "pick yourself
up, dust yourself off, start all over again"?
Obviously life is a vicious cycle. One that
unexpectedly ebbs and flows. Often at the
most inconvenient of times. And yet what
option do we have except to bob and weave
as we attempt to keep our heads above water?

Tunnel vision
Crisis management is what life is all about.
Leveraging one's survival instincts is all
consuming. Eons ago some sage said that
all we could do was face reality one day at
a time. While said approach can be deemed
myopic, in reality it's the most practical way
to confront one's demons. During such an
onslaught it's hard to see light at the end of
the tunnel. However experience shows that
the best is yet to come. It may not manifest
itself in a mode one can comfortably embrace.
Yet every new challenge can yield rewards
hitherto unknown. You just have to go there.

Promises, promises
The good news is that at least for now, all of
the above doesn't apply to me. Well... not at
the moment that is. At this point in my life
I'm confident that come what may - I'll be
all the better for it. Experience shows that
bad yields good. Thus for those who are in
a dark place, please know that redemption
is on the horizon. How, when, what, or where
salvation appears can't be foretold. We must
wait for the answers to come in their own
time. And also be patient enough to consider
all alternatives beyond historical precedence.
Who knows what tomorrow brings? I wonder...

Tuesday, February 27, 2018


Time tested
In case you don't already know it,
I am not the most patient of men.
Waiting is not my preferable mode
of operation. Instead I like to make
a decision, implement a plan, and
complete whatever the task as soon
as viable. On the other hand, some
folks love a slow, lingering build
up that ends in the fulfillment of
some long held dream. Baloney!
Why wait? I want it now and while
you're at it, step on it. What is the
benefit to deferring satisfaction?
Blow out
Frank's family loves to defer the joy
as much as possible, especially on
birthdays. Therefore one must wait
all day until everyone gathers over
dinner. Post a celebratory cocktail,
we sit down to a wonderful repast.
Then out comes the cake along with
a requisite serenade before blowing
out the candles. Next we adjourn to
the living room where whomever
has aged a year, gets to finally open
their presents. While they may think
such a delay is special, I want it now!
Closet case
I'm the kind of a guy who shops a day
or two before Christmas. Who wants
to check off their list before August?
I know exactly what I want and when
I want to buy it. Given I can't remember
my phone number how can I coordinate
a closet full of goodies? With any luck
I'll spend double and be stuck with a pile
of presents past that must be hidden for
another year. Only to be forgotten once
again. If you've ever wondered about all
of those thirty year old unused items at
garage sales, this is how they blossom.
Ready... set...
My Mother loved to entertain thus she
planned each soiree weeks in advance.
The buildup prior to the evening was
often even more exciting than the night
itself. At the appointed time, after all
was prepared, Mother would exit her
boudoir dressed to the nines. Quickly
she would light the candles, inspect the
table, rearrange the sofa pillows, then
sit in her regalia awaiting her guests.
All while I sat newly bathed in my
jammies ready to hide one the door
bell rang. And what a thrill it was!
Come and get it
Some things are worth the wait and
if I'm honest, on occasion I actually
enjoy the waiting game. One of my
favorite ways to cook is braising.
Not only is it easy, I somehow find
it oddly rewarding. Waiting hours as
lamb shanks, pork shoulder, or short
ribs slow cook truly defines the joy
of anticipation. As the fragrant scent
of cooking protein wafts through the
house, all know that soon a savory
repast will be ready to dish out. No
wonder it's called comfort food!
Far out!
Over the past several years, we've
commuted between rural Montana
and whatever city my job required.
Every summer, Frank resided back
in Lewistown. I loved indulging my
husband but honestly I missed him.
Absence may make the heart grow
fonder. As proven by the fervor of
occasional reunions. However now
that we're together all the time there
is little need for us to defer instant
gratification. And trust me I'm ready
to do whatever it takes immediately!

Monday, February 26, 2018


Given the circumstances
Lately I've worried that I've let my guard down.
At least as it relates to sartorial issues. As the
global casualization increases, it's challenging
to dress for success. And frankly, since exiting
Manhattan for a full-time return to rural Montana
there's been little to no reason to strut one's stuff.
Post our return we've been immersed in an arctic
onslaught. Somehow subzero temperatures shift
one's selections from form to function. Causing
this former fashionista to select ensembles based
on personal benefit versus external impact. Let
alone trendiness. Have I given in? Or worse...
given up? Has this former fop become a flop?
Bottomed out
Increased age and girth are added barriers on
the fashion front. With several closets full of
skimpy castoffs, I really should be dieting.
Rather than shop for larger togs, all I need to
do is lose twenty, thirty, forty or fifty pounds.
Post shedding pounds I would have at least
ten to twenty "new" blazers alone to choose
from. Yet at this point in life who wants to
sacrifice instant gratification in order to dress
accordingly? Yet somehow, I'm bored with
my closet and ready for a change. Having
always been a voracious shopper, part of me
wants new options. Yet would I wear them?
Black out
Like it or not, we're no longer city boys. Hence
so much of what we have (and still fits) simply
isn't appropriate given where and how we live.
For example theres little to no chance that Frank
nor I will don our formal wear anytime soon.
The same applies to fancy cocktail gear such
as embroidered satin or velvet dinner jackets.
Tom Browne's skimpy suits may be de rigeur
in some urban enclaves. However were I to don
such attire here in Montana, folks would only
assume that I'd outgrown my limitations. All of
which means that at least here in Lewistown,
much of our existing wardrobe is futile at best.
Best foot forward
Don't worry. It's highly doubtful that either of
us are about to embrace our inner lumber jack.
Hence fleece or flannel are NOT in our future.
That said, I've learned the hard way that thin
soled Italian loafers are not appropriate in sub
zero climes. A fact that limits one's options to
rubber soled shoes, muck boots, and my Gucci
"jelly" loafers. Which may cause me to worry
about what my friends back east would say if
they bumped into the new Montana me. Would
they assume that I'd "lost it"?! Or even worse,
that I'd finally succumbed to the evil influence
our obvious national dress code - mediocrity?!
Fine and dandy
If one looks around, both Frank and I still stand
out. Even if we've dumbed down our stylistic
approach to everyday existence, we still think
about what we wear. Whereas most of our fellow
male Montanans appear to subscribe to the roll
out of bed sartorial school of thought. Therefore
I prefer to attribute my fashion malaise to the
season itself. Fortunately very soon spring will
blossom. And I'm confident that once again I'll
be the only guy in town wearing a hand-knit
coral cardigan. Let alone Nantucket red shorts.
Meanwhile until then, I, myself, and my limited
wardrobe will stay close to home and hibernate.

Sunday, February 25, 2018

7th Day Surprise: Flower Power


At this point in winter
who doesn't need a pick me up?

So why not stop at your local florist
or the flower section at your grocer
and grab some posies.

Nothing brightens your world
better than flowers.

Make arrangements now...