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

It was a hot day in L.A.  I was heading into the office when I spied the In-N-Out Burger a few blocks ahead of me.

It was nearly time for lunch and I was hungry.  “I haven’t enjoyed an In-N-Out Burger for a year and a half,” I thought.

In the past I’ve used the drive-through, but the line of cars stretched part way around the block.

“I can eat in a restaurant again,” I thought.  So I decided to enjoy a respite from the heat.

As I began to munch my first burger (if one is good, aren’t two better?), the man who was bussing tables approached me.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

I was startled.  There are no waiters at In-N-Out.

“Sure.”

“With ice?”

“Uh, okay.”

He promptly brought me a glass of ice water. I responded with a heartfelt “thank you,” and gave him a tip.  Five minutes later he asked me if I would like a refill.  That’s better service than I remember receiving at some sit down restaurants in the dim and distant pre-Covid past of eighteen months ago.

Unfortunately, I’ve also noticed that many people who are out and about after isolating for what seems like forever have forgotten how to be civil. Earlier in the day I saw a near–collision when one driver brazenly failed to stop at an intersection, nearly hitting a car in front of them.  When I drive, I always think it’s more important to arrive safely, not quickly.

I believe that one reason we’re here is to help each other out.  After all, no one makes it very far in life alone.  And don’t other people – our families, our children, our friends – provide our greatest source of joy and happiness?  And maybe the stranger who brings you a glass of water on a hot afternoon?

That single, random act of kindness made my entire day.

I’m doing what I can to pay it forward.

Alan

P.S.  The burgers were pretty good too.