Daveen and I love to enjoy cruises together, but for the past year and a half the pandemic has turned us into homebodies. At the end of July we were finally able to embark on an Alaskan cruise. Our cruise ship, with 1,200 passengers, was only 60% occupied, because COVID-19 still rules the seas (even more than the land).

We walked off the ship in Ketchikan, Alaska, and headed for the Lumberjack show that we had attended on a previous visit.  Chopping logs, climbing tall poles, a log rolling contest with the loser falling into cold water – all were entertaining, as before.

But for the past 21 months not a single cruise ship has brought potential patrons to the local shops and restaurants. That is, until yesterday when six hundred tourists, the first to arrive in almost two years, visited the town (which itself has a population of only 8,284).

As we were walking through one large shop I overheard another passenger ask the young sales clerk, “How’s business?”

“Slow,” she said, then hastened to add, “But it’s picking up.  It’s better today than yesterday.”

Thankfully, Daveen and I are beyond our years of accumulating stuff.  Even so, we bought a few items for gifts, to help the local economy.

“Let’s have lunch,” I said to Daveen as we walked past a cafe.

“For the food, or to help them out?” Daveen asked, already knowing the answer.

I left a substantial tip.  Daveen noticed that the young man who waited on our table was carefully sheltering his left hand that had a tremor.

I felt increasingly sad as we walked around the largely empty town on a day that should have been their peak season, with more tourists than residents.  Even the local busses seemed to have few, if any, passengers.

If you have the time, and money for a few purchases, please visit Ketchikan. I would feel better.

At times our lives depend upon hope.  Sometimes that’s all we have – hope, and each other.

Alan

My father died shortly before his 105^th birthday. That’s a pretty good run to look forward to (unless you’re 104).  On July 14^th 2021, he would have been 107 years old.

I’ve heard it said that a man never really grows up until his father dies. While I can’t say if that is always true, I can say that since my father’s death, I appreciate him more every day.

My father was a professional musician who grew up in New York City. He moved to California to work in Hollywood.  While he never finished college, he was a natural teacher, and developed a number of parenting tools that were very effective.

My brother David was 3 years younger than me.  In the fourth grade David still had difficulty reading.  I had been taught to read phonetically – by sounding out words, letter by letter.  But when my brother was learning to read the teaching methods had changed.  He was taught sight-reading, not phonics, and was expected to recognize entire words.  That didn’t work for David.

My dad didn’t hire a tutor for my brother or study books on how to teach reading. Dad simply showed David how to sound out each word. After failing to learn to read at school, David succeeded at home.

Another parenting innovation I learned from my dad was the family conference.  If any member of our family had a problem with any other family member we could call a conference.  Whoever called the conference could talk about his problem without interruption.  After that we could all discuss it.  That experience taught me that I learn a lot more when I listen than when I talk (even though it can be more fun to talk).

We learn, and teach – both in words and by example – every single day.

Give someone a fish and you feed them for a day.  Teach people how to fish and you feed them for a lifetime.

Thanks for all the lessons Dad.

Alan

A well-known Chinese proverb advises, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

Since we can take no more than one step at a time, this wisdom seems self-evident.  If you’ve ever been to Disneyland, you might have noticed how this proverb plays out in real life.

When standing in line for a Disneyland attraction, it’s hard to know how long you’ll be waiting. That’s because the line is almost always arranged so you can’t really tell how long it is, especially from the back.  I’ve waited for an hour and a half to board one of the boats on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.  Had I realized that when I first stood in line I might have chosen not to wait.

It is our attitude towards our lifetime journey of a thousand miles that makes all the difference.

Could I walk from Los Angeles to New York?  I’m not even going to calculate how many steps that might take, because I would be discouraged and give up before I started.  When I walk my 8,000 steps each day, I begin with the first step, and resist the temptation to do the math.  The first step out of 8,000 seems trivial, next to nothing, and yet…

That first step, joined by a second and a third, gets me . . . well, not even half way across my bedroom in the morning.  And yet, add up all of the steps I’ve taken in my lifetime, and there would be enough to carry me around the world more than once.

We can plan our lives for the next fifty years.  But we can live our lives just one step at a time.

A member of the Manhattan Chess Club once won a game against a renowned grandmaster.

“Your opponent is reputed to think fifteen or twenty moves in advance.  Is that what you did to beat him?”

“No, I only think one move at a time.  But I try to make it the best possible move.”

We can only take one step at a time.  Make it a good one.

Alan