Monthly Archives

During the six weeks of recovery from my first surgery I stayed home and watched television, mostly cable news.  During the six weeks since my second surgery I‘ve also stayed home, but with a twist.  For the first time in many years I’ve sworn off TV news and, frankly, it’s been a relief.

That does, of course, leave Netflix.  My problem with Netflix is that I find most of their offerings slow, superficial, or both.  I’ve polled my friends, asking what they like when they binge on recorded TV shows, and most have shared several favorites.  One friend mentioned, “I sometimes spend twelve hours on a weekend and watch an entire series.”  I’ve tried most of their recommendations . . . for about fifteen minutes each.  Nothing felt compelling.

But last night I discovered “The Kindness Diaries” (Second Season), in which a personable Englishman named Leon travels from Northern Alaska to Argentina in his 50-year-old yellow VW Bug he named “Kindness 2.”  The theory is that he has no money and relies entirely upon the kindness of strangers for food, shelter, and help with the inevitable problems that arise from driving his ancient VW bug.  Of course, he has a camera crew with him, and he finished the series, so I’m pretty sure he doesn’t freeze or starve.

One neat feature of the series is that when Leon meets a stranger who is particularly caring, he offers them a gift.  For example, a religious Texan transplanted to Alaska was given a trip to Jerusalem.  To a Canadian who provides a weekly meal for immigrants, Leon is paying the cost of all food and drink for a year.  And to a young woman in America who was homeless in New York when she was ten years old, Leon gifted a service trip to Costa Rica as well as assistance setting up her own private charitable foundation.  And at this point in the season we’re only as far as Salt Lake City!

This show reminded me that we each have our areas of confidence and fear.

I’m fearless about a few things.  For example, I’m entirely confident in my ability to think of a subject and write a blog post in about an hour to share with the world. But counting on help from a stranger when my car is stuck in a snow-filled ditch on the side of the lightly traveled Trans-Canadian highway?  I’d be terrified.

It’s likely that I will never be confident relying entirely on the help of strangers for two months of food and shelter, and that’s okay. Leon’s method of kindness in the world is unique to him, just as mine is to me and yours is to you. The challenge for each of us is to harness our confidence, in whatever forms it may take, in order to help ourselves and benefit others.

For exciting and heart-warming inspiration I highly recommend The Kindness Diaries on Netflix.

Love,

Alan

That is the title of a lovely folk song written in the 1950’s by Pete Seeger (Grammy Hall of Fame).  It must be outstanding because it later became a hit for both The Kingston Trio in 1958 and Peter, Paul, and Mary in 1962. The lyrics and tune entered my head as I awoke this morning, evoking those days, many years ago, when I was a teenager and folk songs meant a lot to me.  Apparently this one still does.

The lyrics go full circle.  The flowers are picked by young girls who, in turn have taken husbands “every one.”  Husbands became soldiers who, in turn, have gone to graveyards “every one.”  And in the end the graveyards are covered with flowers, “every one.”

The refrain to each verse –

“When will they ever learn?

“When will they ever learn?”

Some of us, understandably, may find this to be a somewhat grim view of life.  I find it sad, but uplifting.

Perhaps I’ve been thinking of flowers because in the past week, as part of my rehabilitation and what, I’m told, should become a part of my permanent routine, I’ve been taking walks in the neighborhood.  Since I can’t yet look up, or even straight ahead, I find myself looking down.  And what do I see along the road?

Flowers.

I’ve lived in the same neighborhood for almost fifty years.  Fifty years, folks, and I have never before noticed the flowers.

In my teens I certainly noticed the young girls.  During the Viet Nam war I saw more than enough soldiers on TV.  After the deaths of my mother, father, and younger brother I visited the graveyard, which held more grass than flowers.

And here I am.

Where have all the flowers gone?  Nowhere.

The flowers have been there all along.

Alan

During the past few years I’ve been recording hour-long episodes of the popular TV series Shark Tank.  Since this is their tenth season, I have more than one hundred shows ready to go whenever I’m struck by the impulse to use my elliptical machine for a morning workout.  But since this show has now consumed about 80% of my recording capacity, I have dug into the backlog and begun to view episodes from the comfort and convenience of my couch, while recovering from neck surgery.

On each episode, five wealthy business people listen to “the pitch” of four different entrepreneurs seeking cash to expand their fledgling businesses.  Most of the time an offer is negotiated and accepted.  Occasionally the entrepreneur leaves empty handed (always vowing to press on and prove the “Sharks” were wrong not to have invested with them).  Mostly, I agree with the sharks.

Two men who usually sit on the panel of sharks include Mark Cuban, the famous billionaire owner of an NBA professional basketball team, and “Mr. Wonderful” who is known for picking the presentations apart as he explains to each supplicant why they are totally overvaluing their business.  His favorite parting line when his lowball offer is rejected: “You’re dead to me.”  Truly a wonderful guy.

On a recent show one young woman, a single mother of two, was seeking a $350,000 investment for 25% of her dress line for young mothers who wanted to spend more time playing with their children.

“To my four-year-old son,” she said, “a grass stain is the sign of a day well spent.  To me, it’s a large dry cleaning bill.”

Her dresses were quite fashionable, but could still be thrown into the washing machine at the end of the day.  She had been in business for five years, and her annual sales for the previous year had reached $1,200,000.  Even Mr. Wonderful was impressed, though he argued that she had valued her business at much more than he thought it was worth.  This position, of course, is always part of his negotiating strategy.

When asked by one of the women on the panel, the entrepreneur shared her back story.

Though she was a single mom, she was determined to help other moms play more with their young children. She had taught herself to sew even though she didn’t previously know a thing about sewing or patterns.  Her own mother, she said, hadn’t played with her. There had been abuse and addiction, but the mother “did the best she could.  We all have trauma in our childhoods,” she said, “and I needed to leave that behind to pursue my goal.”

At this point even Mr. Wonderful took out his handkerchief to dab tears from his eyes.

One of the women on the panel offered the full amount asked — $350,000 for 25% of the business.  Everyone was thrilled, the two women hugged. The entrepreneur had succeeded where few others had – obtaining her exact asking price.

Surprisingly, as Mr. Wonderful was putting his handkerchief back in his pocket, he said, “This is the best fashion presentation I’ve ever seen in the past ten years.”

Amen, Mr. Wonderful.  Amen.

Alan