Last week, the topic of my blog was “Cheers.”  Today my topic is “Fears.”  To be specific, my fear of repeating myself.

When I started writing this blog more than ten years ago, I had a lot of good ideas for material and was never at a loss for what to write about.  By now I have not only used up every one of those good ideas, but I’ve also completely forgotten what I’ve previously written.  Thus, I risk repeating myself without even realizing it.

And repeating yourself is a big issue in my family.  Especially when I do it.

My dad repeated himself often during conversations with me, so it must be karma that my children are the ones who now roll up their eyes and say the same thing I used to say to my dad. “Dad, you’ve already told me that,” they say.

And then, to rub it in, “Three times.”

I’ve even taken the vow to only tell my children about my experiences if they happened within the past two weeks.  That should avoid repetition, right?  If I could actually do it.

But do you have any idea how long two weeks is?  Also it is nearly impossible to keep track of the day when something happened, and remembering conversations is not one of my strong points.

But I have an idea inspired by a news story that might be able to help me.  The new Pope has a reputation for being an excellent listener.  I know for myself that I always learn a lot more when I listen than when I talk.

I hereby resolve to be an even better listener than I have been. This should have the added benefit of helping me restrain my preference to do most of the talking (a trait that also runs in my family).

My fear is that I’ll continue to repeat myself.

Or did I already say that?

Alan

Years ago I decided that my default answer to any request, especially from my children, would be “yes.”  I wanted to add positivity to my life, and there are few words any of us like better than “yes.”

Well, one thing is better — an enthusiastic “YES!”  Especially if the previous question was, “Will you marry me?” (I’ve never been turned down on that one.)

Today I’ve decided to add “cheers” to my repertoire.  By that I mean I will be cheering for other people to do well.

When I was in high school my friend Pete Lippman ran the mile at track meets.  One Friday afternoon before a meet he told me that any decent high school miler, including himself, should be able to complete a mile in under five minutes, and he was going to do exactly that.

From the stands I cheered him on, and for three laps he was on track to finish in slightly under five minutes.  Unfortunately, at the beginning of the final lap he faded.  Badly.

Pete ended up at Cal Tech, so he must have been destined for success in pursuits other than track and field.

I’ve since learned that competing is the point, and winning is one possible result.  But having others cheer for you, regardless of the outcome, always feels good.  I remember the Olympics in Tokyo a few years ago during the Covid Pandemic when athletes competed in front of empty grandstands.  Did it really feel like the Olympics with no live audience?  And no cheering?

As a grandfather, I’m happy to cheer on the successes of my grandchildren.  In fact, I like to cheer on many people I know. I like to share their successes, and they seem to like sharing mine.

So you not only have a cheering section.  You ARE a cheering section.

Wishing you a great day.

Cheers!

Alan

I know many of us lately are feeling overwhelmed by the constant barrage of news and social media.  So much so that it’s hard to focus on what is happening around us in our own lives.  But sometimes, you must stop worrying about media reports of the world at large and pay attention to what is actually happening around you.  There are times when we must focus on ourselves and our immediate surroundings.

Which reminds me of a story I’ve shared before about a potential disaster in my own backyard that was successfully averted by quick thinking and action on the part of my stepsons and me.  I’ve lived in houses with swimming pools for most of my life.  And while having a swimming pool is a welcome luxury in the summer heat of Los Angeles, it also presents a constant danger.  We have always deadbolted the door out to the pool, and it is always the first place we’ve searched for a young child if they went temporarily missing.  Fortunately, we’ve been lucky to never have to rescue a child!

But, years ago, I was in bed late one Sunday morning reading the newspaper, when one of my stepsons raced into our bedroom frantically.  The housekeeper had jumped into the deep end of the pool and apparently didn’t know how to swim. She was now floating on the bottom.  This was a true emergency.  Sometimes, you have to stop reading the news and take immediate action at home.  While Susan dialed 911, I dove into the pool.

One of my stepsons helped me to pull the woman out, over the side of the pool. Fortunately, she was still breathing.  The medics arrived, and they took her with them for observation.

Never was the statement truer than in this story — all’s well that ends well.  The housekeeper was fine, the two boys were heroes.  I never did finish reading the Sunday Times, but I’m resharing this story today as a reminder to all of us, that sometimes, the most exciting story is not in the newspaper, but in your own backyard.

Alan