Graduation…

To our new graduates: 

When it was announced Charlie Daniels would be the commencement speaker at UNC-Wilmington…, some students opposed it, questioning the selection of a speaker who didn’t graduate from college. He wrote this 4 months before graduation (February,1996): 

I would like to clear up a few points about my addressing your class at commencement exercises, points which I feel have been distorted by a few overzealous, uninformed, pseudo-journalists. 

My professional life is a matter of documented public record and easily obtainable. No need to discuss that. 

Having been born in Wilmington, I consider it an honor to be asked to speak to you on one of the biggest days of your lives, and I accepted the honor with gratitude and humility. I cannot speak to you of lofty academic ideals nor scholarly pursuits because I have neither entree nor credential for that world. 

The truth is I come to you from the street, from reality, the very same place you’re all headed if you plan to make a living in this ever-changing, difficult, show-me world, and when your college days are just a memory and your diploma hangs beneath dusty glass or some office wall, you will still have to deal with that world on its own terms every working day of your lives. 

Let me tell you why I thought I was invited to speak to your graduating class. My career spans almost 40 years and you don’t go through 40 years of hard work and unrelenting competition without learning a few things. 

My qualifications are humble but extensive and diverse. I’ve stood at the 38th Parallel and looked across into the hostile eyes of the North Korean border guards. I’ve been catapulted from the deck of an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Adriatic Sea and ridden across the frozen wastes of Greenland on an Eskimo dog sled. I’ve taken a hammer and chisel to the Berlin Wall and performed with symphony orchestras. I’ve had conversations with Presidents and walked the halls of Congress lobbying for legislation in which I believe. I’ve flown on the Concorde and acted in motion pictures. 

I’ve seen the royal palaces of Europe and the hovels of Hong Kong. 

I’ve seen the Mona Lisa and stared in awe at the timeless works of Vincent Van Gogh. 

I’ve gathered cattle in the Big Bend country of Texas and met some of the wisest people I know at campfires in the middle of nowhere. I was privileged to have conversations with Alex Hailey and Louis L’Amour. I’ve appeared with The Rolling Stones, worked in the recording studio with Bob Dylan and two of the Beatles. I’ve been married to the same woman for over thirty years and raised a son who did, by the way, go to college. I’ve kept 20 people gainfully and steadily employed for over 20 years. 

I am not a man of letters, I readily admit to that. But is being a man of letters the only thing which qualifies one to speak to a group of men and women who are about to enter the real world? My world. 

My address will not be delivered in the beautiful strains of poetry of a Maya Angelou or with the technical expertise of a Tom Clancy, but I can tell you where some of the land mines are hidden, the shortest path to the top of the mountain and the quickest way down. Been there, done that. 

          Charlie Daniels 

When life gets tough we could get a helmet… or… we could leverage the peace and share the power of a positive perspective.

Tough topic today…

It’s always been a tough topic.  It takes tough people to deal with it.  Let’s you and I be tough today.  According to research:

 

Mental health has grown to be an outsized problem in the United States, with 90% of Americans saying it is now a crisis.

Let’s also be more aware when we ask someone, “How are you doing?”  If we hear, “Alright” that can mean so much more.  It does for Eric.  

 

Eric is the toughest person I know. When you greet him with, “Hi. How you doing?”  he almost always replies, “Alright”.

 

I have known him for 50 years this coming Monday. Over that period Eric’s Mom and Dad have shared some of his most joyous occasions and some of his most upsetting events. In between these highs and lows Eric would tell you that he has been doing alright. It shows how amazing he truly is.

 

Eric isn’t like the rest of us. Merely getting up and facing the day; every day; takes enormous strength. He offers no excuses – never has. Eric has earned success and experienced failure. No matter; Eric treats each day anew, the best he possibly can.

 

You see, Eric suffers from Bipolar Disorder. He lives every day with this unwelcome guest. Medical science is not much help. Bipolar Disorder is an affliction of the brain, very difficult to properly diagnose and almost impossible to treat. Trial and error, mostly. People like Eric with Bipolar Disorder typically wind up dealing with this on their own.

 

For most of us, we migrate from the “poles” of our highest highs to our lowest lows slowly; with long, “recovery” spans of feeling average in between. Unfortunately, Eric is different. His mood “Rapid Cycles”, swinging back and forth, between euphoric highs and debilitating lows in minutes. Picture your life with his type of mood swings – as if our other challenges aren’t enough to deal with.

 

Most people with Bipolar Disorder can’t hold steady employment. Eric can, although job changes are frequent in his world. He is a skilled tradesman; a licensed electrician. Most people with Bipolar Disorder can’t live independently. Eric does. If you met him, you would never know the internal turmoil he lives with. He has a pleasant personality; a nice sense of humor; knowledgeable of current events; just like the rest of us.

 

No, I don’t have Bipolar Disorder, but it’s a huge part of my life. I see first-hand the toughness Eric has as he lives with it every day. Eric is my son and I’m proud of him. One day I hope to learn the source of his amazing toughness so I too can be doing, ”alright”.

Happy 50^th birthday, Eric.  I love you!  Dad

 

When life gets tough we could get a helmet… or… we could leverage the peace and share the power of a positive perspective.

 

Worth it?

I saw a quote online recently (apologies I don’t remember the source), about how we are all replaceable by AI at the office, but we are all irreplaceable at home with our family.  Having retired in 2022, it’s easy for me to look back and question/dissect/reflect about my days of heavy business travel.  Away from home. Away from my family.  Justifying it with my W-2.

Many of you have “been there, done that” as well, true?  (Many are there now.) 

Of course in today’s “modern world”, business flights every week have been replaced by Zoom.  Long hours in the office have been replaced by work-from-home (or, as I prefer to describe it, “live at work”). 

That online quote came almost simultaneously to a book I just finished, Son of Nobody © by Yann Martel, a novel about a scholar at Oxford researching a combatant in the Trojan War.  This characters’ line gave me pause after he lost his marriage and was absent when his 9-year old daughter died: 

It's a question that has always haunted me: was my work worth it?  For all the joy of it, and that joy was real, were those hours and weeks and months worth it, when they kept me away…? 

We see it don’t we?  At a restaurant the couple next to us; she on her iPad, he talking on his Air Pods.  We see them at the kids’ game, cell phone in hand, drawn to checking email.  Attending a VRBO family vacation and upon arrival ensuring first, last, and in between wireless network and password access.  Or simply grocery shopping while simultaneously “checking in” from our phone.  Oops!  Sorry for bumping into you. 

Yes, I know.  Moms will say, “I am there for my kids!”  But in reality we all know you can be there and not “be there”.  Dads’ minds; attention; and worries are not about whether their child’s piano recital is going off without a hitch, but rather what’s going on “back at the office”.  Which “there” was he at? 

I’m no better. In between President’s Clubs, commission checks, and stock options, I missed much of my sons’ childhood.  Not to mention the added stress my absence put on my wife and our marriage.  Acknowledging my guilt perhaps, I wrote a meager poem back in the day: 

A shared prayer from the Mayflower to the modern day road warrior: 

We know before leavin'

    The ride will be bumpy

    The quarters will be dumpy

    The stewards will be grumpy

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    The days will be long

    ETAs promised will be wrong

    Success smiles on only the strong

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    Our family will pine

    We'll miss children's' prime

    We barter money for time

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    To no one we sob

    While pursuing our job

    Our energy travels rob

    And still we must go.

We know before leavin'

    And we pray every evening

    Lord, get me home safe

    And I'll call the rest even. 

Look, you may not like my poem.  You may not like this message.  You may not like my posts.  You may not like me.  Regardless, I beseech you to hear these words from an aging road warrior.  Prioritizing career over family – IT’S NOT WORTH IT! 

GAP 

When life gets tough we could get a helmet… or… we could leverage the peace and share the power of a positive perspective.

Moms are special…

My Mom was special - I bet your Mom, too.  This coming Sunday is Mother’s Day.  In mind; in memory; or in person; let’s be sure to make it special for Mom.  They often lead us when we’re in over our head:

Among many other qualities, they are lifetime mentors and teachers.  Remember the life-long lessons you learned?  I do. 

What my Mother taught me: 

My Mother taught me logic;

“Because I said so, that's why.” 

My Mother taught me irony;

“Keep laughing and I'll give you something to cry about.” 

My Mother taught me about the science of osmosis:

“Shut your mouth and eat your supper!" 

Unknown Sage 

Mothers offer us encouragement in just the right way, also… even at risk of hurting our feelings: 

My mother always encouraged me to be myself.  “Unless you’re going to be boring on that day, in which case do us all a favor and be someone else.” 

Joan Rivers 

But more than anything else, Moms have a special and immeasurable reservoir of power, true?  My Mom did.  She was stricken with cancer when I was 6 years old.  In fact, I cannot remember a time when she was not ill.  The last 15 years of her life were spent undergoing continuous treatments: 

I watched my Mom’s great power, which she needed in order to deal with a new cancer treatment in the late 1960’s that was so unimaginably harsh – the administration of this treatment was solely based on the primitive science of trial and error.  The doctors’ routine consisted of observing how much of a dose could she tolerate without it killing her. 

It was an experimental treatment back then; offered only as a last resort for terminally ill cancer patients. This wasn’t a cure; just a radical option to extend one’s life a precious little more.  Because of her staying power she survived another two years before finally succumbing in 1974. My Mom’s power, and that of so many others like her, helped pave the way to the development of today’s commonly used, life-saving cancer treatment we all know as chemotherapy. 

How many special Moms have sacrificed trying to fight terrible diseases (and brutal treatments) so the rest of us can benefit from the exaggerated term, “modern medicine”? 

Mother’s Day - make it special for your Mom if she’s living; make it special for you through your memories of your Mom if she’s not. 

GAP 

When life gets tough we could get a helmet… or… we could leverage the peace and share the power of a positive perspective.