Sunday, May 29, 2016

Closets not just for brooms...

But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and
when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father
which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth
in secret shall reward thee openly.
Matthew 6:6 - Bible

I asked her whether we might step into the closet where it would be a little quieter. When we closed the door in the small, lighted space, it was almost silent.

I suppose asking a woman you have just met to slip into a confined space with you seems a little strange. In all fairness, she was the one who suggested it.

I was on my way to Poznań, Poland, by way of Prague in the Czech Republic. It was Saturday and the conference wasn’t until Wednesday. I still had some time to get ready. The meeting in Prague was Tuesday, so I would have Monday to practice.

Practice, that’s the key to this climbing into the closet business.

A little background...
Over the years, I have had the opportunity to speak at a number of conferences around the world…something for which I am very grateful. These meetings have given me time and space to meet wonderful people and see some exotic places.

Once in a while I chair a conference, and when that happens in a foreign country, I try to say a few words in the native language out of respect for the invitation and chance to participate.

A few months ago, I wrote a very short greeting in English and dropped a note to my friend Beata. She is a physical therapist here in the U.S., and originally from Poland.

When I asked whether she would help with my project she said, of course.  I took the liberty of sending her not only the brief English sentences, but a Google Translation into Polish. I am certain it made her chuckle. She sent a corrected copy in Ploska, and we set up a time to video conference, which I intended to record.

After a couple of scheduling misses, we connected and I got to see her smiling face and get the recording done. Running through it a couple of times, I put it aside intending to write the words phonetically, so when spoken, they might be somewhat recognizable to the attendees at the conference. It was left on my computer desktop.

Time to go…
Getting ready to travel is a multifactorial experience. I have done it so frequently over the years that I have the packing drill down. Depending on the time of the flight, it’s done the night before, or sometimes the morning of the departure.

Molly also has a drill. She has me run through a verbal checklist of what I have packed, and if there is more than one suitcase, where things are located. I am sure she does this because she loves me, but it is also a task that she knows, without question, will save her time and stress. The legion of things I have lost or misplaced or not taken, or left behind, boggles the mind. Once, when I had left my wallet at home, she got it to the commuter terminal so close to take off, one of the ground crew actually ran out and handed it to the pilot through the small plane’s cockpit window!

This time, I was done the night before. The flight departed Tucson at 5:40 am for Chicago, where I connected to points east. Everything for the conference was backed up twice on a thumb drive and larger portable drive, in addition to my laptop. Everything except the audio of the Polish for me to practice.

In the car...
“Shoot,” I said. The word Molly hates to hear on the way to the airport. “Man, I forgot my Polish translation. I didn’t file it in the Poland folder after Beata helped me with it.”

“Too late to go back now,” she replied, and she was right.

So, it was on the flight and off to Chicago. Halfway there, the thought stuck me out of the blue, Wait a minute! Chicago has the largest population of Polish people outside of the mother country! Surely someone at O'hare speaks the language.

The question then became, how to find one.

After landing, I walked up to an information desk and asked one of the women if she might know someone who spoke Polish, expecting a shrug and an ‘I don’t know.’

To my surprise and delight, she said, “Yes, Alex does.”

Alex was the mid-sixties woman talking to another traveler and sitting right beside her.

“Alex, this man needs you to help him with some Polish,” my gal said.

The next thing I knew, Alex was by my side and I was explaining my dilemma. It was noisy and I asked her if there might be a quieter place because I wanted to record her voice.

She pointed to a door behind the desk and off to the broom closet we went.

I opened my computer to the Polish text, pulled out my iPhone as we huddled together in the limited space, and asked her to please read it very slowly.  Alex nodded, I pushed the record button and before you knew it, it was done.

It took about an hour and a half to transcribe her words phonetically, and in spite of practicing a few times, I still don’t have it right.

Come Wednesday morning in Poznań, I expect the audience...a very sympathetic audience...to let discretion be the better part of valor when I express my Polish greeting. I suspect some will smile, shrug and whisper to one another: "Jest to myśl, że liczy" It's the thought that counts.

- ted

Sunday, May 22, 2016

An unexpected touch of the heart…

Love all, trust few, do wrong to none”
Shakespeare: All’s Well That Ends Well

“That’s a big airplane out there. Do you think it will hold all of us?’

The two women were standing in front of me as I was boarding a flight from Tucson to San Diego.

It was the rhythm of the comment from one of the women that caught my attention. The question was flat, monotone and forceful. The sort of comment one might hear from an adult with downs syndrome.

“Can we get on the airplane now?” she asked. The other woman, apparently her sister gently said, “In a minute. After these other people in front of us get on.”

The question-asking woman turned around, gazing at the other passengers waiting to board and said, “There’s a lot of people here.”

As she turned in my direction and our eyes met…my heart was in my throat. In that moment, she was my sister Nancy.

We never saw it coming, my sister’s journey into darkness. She had always been the bright light. Smart, driven, thoughtful, she made her way in life with her intellect and capacity to interact with people that was amazing.

This woman was always upbeat and could find the sunshine in the cloudiest of life circumstance. Never a victim, never a finger pointer, when things and circumstances created obstacles for her, she simply did whatever it took to figure it out, always finding a way to move forward.

I come from a family of strong smart women, all of whom deeply influenced my early years. In fact, they have influenced all of my years to this very day, in that they are the ones to whom I am drawn. None more than Nancy Jeanne.

A couple of years before we lost her to the unrelenting gravity of Alzheimer’s, I brought her out to San Diego for a couple of weeks, thinking in my naiveté that the Southern California air and ambiance would be good for her.  In truth, it was something I thought would be good for me…it was neither.

She was still manageable in that day, but focally verbal, saying whatever came to her mind, in the flat monotone of the woman with her sister on that flight to San Diego. The family member, as I had done, quietly assured her sister things were normal and would be fine. Nancy, like the afflicted woman, was not sure…the verbal flow an expression of her anxiety.

I had come to understand that every day of my sister's pathway to early death, was the best day she would ever have, in the ever-descending spiral of this disease. So the time in San Diego was the best she had for the rest of her life.

As the two women walked down that gangway to the airplane, one gently guiding the other shuffling along, uncertain exactly what was going on, I found myself sitting in the theater of my mind replaying the life and times of the only person I ever knew from birth to death…the only person with whom I felt complete and free resonance…the only person I had loved so deeply for the little more than six decades of her life.


I took my seat, closed my eyes and watched the liquid chemistry videos that flashed through my mind. I whispered to her that I loved her still and looked forward to the ‘time’ when I would make my way down the gangway on my flight of no return, and once again feel her living essence…

- ted

Sunday, May 15, 2016

Tempests, teapots and tickets...

“Life is to be lived, not controlled; and humanity is
won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat.” 
- Ralph Ellison: Invisible Man


The whole thing began over six weeks ago. The ‘whole thing,’ meaning preparing for a short visit to Singapore.

This will be my sixth or seventh visit there over the past fifteen years or so, all of which have been great experiences. I had been asked to speak at a spine symposium, and as usual, it sounded so much more exciting when it was at a distance. It is not that I don't enjoy this sort of thing. In fact, I love it. It's just that I forget, as Molly reminds me, to look in the mirror and appreciate the guy staring back at me is not a spry sixty-year-old anymore…or less.

Getting to Singapore from Tucson requires more than one flight connection. For this trip, it will Los Angeles to Haneda (Tokyo), with the final leg to that Island city-state eighty-some miles north of the Equator.

As it turns out, my regular airline does not go all the way to Singapore and so part of the trip woule be on a different air carrier. In this case, it was a code-share with Japan Airlines (JAL).

Molly has gotten pretty good at airline reservations over the years, but when it is this kind of trip; I depend on my old travel agent Nancy. She has been getting me places for more than twenty-five years, and truth be told, I think of her as family. There is just something calming about this woman. When things seem too complicated, she just talks quietly to me with a consistently cheery voice.

This trip didn't seem to be much of a problem, except…except JAL would not give me a seat assignment until twenty-four hours before the flight.  I am one of those ‘trust but verify' kind of guys, so when Nancy told me this, I said okay. Nonetheless, when the date got closer, asked her whether she might check again, just to make sure. She did, and the answer was the same.

The JAL website confirmed that code-share flights with certain airlines prohibited seat assignments beyond twenty-four hours.

I have done a lot of calls, over the years, to Japan, India, New Zealand and Australia. It is just a matter of calculating the time zone difference to make them work. Familiarity, however, sometimes breeds contempt…or in this case complacent neglect. Only God and the Universe know why I imprinted a twenty-hour difference between Japan and Pacific Coast time – in fact, it's sixteen hours – but I did. That would be forgivable were it not that I had the days wrong as well.

I planned to make sure I called my airline at exactly twenty-four hours before the flight departed to ensure I did not find myself in the middle row with non-English speaking seat partners for the seven-hour leg from Haneda to Singapore.

I even called my airline help desk to confirm they would be there at four o’clock AM Sunday morning for me to get those seats. Planning – that’s the key. You know, “…measure twice and cut once…” and all that sort of thing.  The gal at the airline assured me there would be a representative available at the early hour. They would, she confirmed, call JAL and hand me off directly to them.

Alarm set, I tucked into bed early, to get as much of a goodnight's sleep as possible. Three-forty five I was up, making coffee and heading for the computer. At four straight up, I called my airline help desk, only to be told they never connected people with JAL, but she would be happy to give me their number...things were beginning to tilt.

After trying to sort out the auto-answering choices with JAL I finally got a representative who let me know, not only would they NOT give me a seat, but I would need to wait until I got to Haneda, where I could get my assignment just before boarding...

By this time Molly was up, and after having coffee and therefore wide-awake, she said,

"Hey Ted, two things: Japan is sixteen hours out from us, AND you called a day early! You will be in the air when it is time to try again. I’m happy to make the call for you. It might make a difference.”

The thing about Molly is that she can remind me just how out of sync I sometimes get and do it a way that seems like she is congratulating me for being so smart! The way she said it, allowed my ego to remain intact and land pretty softly.

All was not lost. Getting up early allowed me to quadruple check everything, to make sure nothing was missing, eat a hearty breakfast, say goodbye to the cats, do a little reading and watch the clock.

At eight-ten it was off to the airport, still preparing my mind for a shoehorned leg from Japan to Singapore. When I checked in, the gal at the counter verified my passport, asked whether I was checking luggage and printed my boarding passes. She handed me three.

There, long before the twenty-four starting line was a seat – 16A. "Sixteen A!" I exclaimed like a child receiving a surprise gift. It was a window on a two-seat side of the aircraft. Well, I thought, this is lots better than a middle seat!

"The JAL rep said I would have to wait until I got to Japan to get a seat,” I said to her. She gave me a knowing smile, wished me a safe trip and said, “I can help the next passenger here.” Summarily dismissed, I was happily on my way.

When I got to Los Angeles, I thought, Now that I have a seat, I wonder if I could change it to an aisle.

At one of the help desks, I asked the airline attendant what she thought. “Let me see,” She said. “I can give you an aisle on a three seat center section.” That would be lots better, even if my inside seatmate had to get up and out frequently. I wouldn’t mind.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “There’s an exit row seat open, but we can never get them. Let me try.”

An exit row, are you kidding me, I thought.

“Hey, you’re in luck,” she beamed. “Fifteen H is yours!”

I walked away from her desk a bit overwhelmed. It was one of those ‘…best laid plans of mice and men…’ situations.

The preplanning…the phone calls…the early hour wake-up…none of it, not one bit of it mattered in the end.

When Molly dropped me off at the airport, I had rationalized by remembering all the great seats I have gotten over the years and resigned myself to one cramped, seven-hour leg into Singapore…you know, in a strange way, balancing the universe.


In the end, I was delightfully surprised. It is not that eighteen hours in the air is the most pleasant way to spend one's time. 

On the other hand, as I readied to hop that second leg from Los Angeles to Tokyo, I was a happy camper.

- ted

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Appreciation and love...

“If we were completely unalike, we would be unable
to communicate. If we were completely alike,
we would have nothing to say.”
Jonathan Sacks: Not in God’s Name

I think we are aging gracefully, the five of us.

Molly is the youngest and appears to be the most resilient – quick of mind, spry of spirit, fan of sport, consistent of exercise, and keeper of the house. Yep, she is the most resilient of the live-in crew. Not much happens in the household over which Molly's influence does not take sway.

I would be next on the scale of ages. A mere eight years older, I like to think a sense of wisdom comes to the table with my presence…that is what I tell myself. On the other hand, everyone that lives here knows when the curtain is drawn back; the Wizard is not quite as richly wise as he might like to appear. That, of course, is the price one pays for being under the microscope twenty-four/seven.

Then there are the girls...that would be the cats. There was a time when we, that would be Molly and me, exceeded their ages. After all, when they arrived in our home, they fit in the palms of our hands. Time and gravity, however, in addition to the speed of inter-species biologic aging, have caused them to pass us by, right under our noses.

I have written about these characters occasionally, but as their lives accelerate and time on planet decreases, it seems a few more words…recorded thoughts…might be appropriate. If for no other reason than to read and remember when they have slipped through our fingers and disappeared from our home and lives.

It is a paradox how, as the privilege of a life lived drifts away with ever increasing speed, recognition and affection gather a different kind of momentum…richness of appreciation…depth of love. It seems odd that at the crescendo of the relationship, the heart empties and they are gone.

Hold your horses…they have NOT exited stage left yet!

The girls...
Hannah would be youngest of the girls – still older than Molly and me. She is the most independent – also the biggest by far. Her historically dumpy frame belies an agility that defies description. When she was young, she would leap to a narrow horizontal railing at the top of the stairs with the deftness of an Olympic balance beam champion. Even in these geriatric years, she is the most nimble of the bunch, and the healthiest.

Sarah is in middle…few weeks older than Hannah. While all the girls get along with each other and enjoy our company, Sarah is Molly's cat – period. It really doesn't matter what is going on in the day. If one wants to find Sarah, it is simply a matter of locating Molly. I am tolerated, maybe even mildly appreciated, particularly if I have feeding responsibilities, but there is no doubt where her loyalties lie. She is also the most fragile. A type one diabetic, with irritable bowel syndrome, she requires insulin and anti-inflammatory medication daily.

Finally, there is Leah – my girl and the eldest.

I have written about her the most; I suppose because she owns a larger piece of my heart. She doesn't follow me around like Sarah does Molly, but she comes to me frequently in the day. It is almost as if she is saying, "I just wanted to make sure you were not getting into any trouble."

If I'm writing, she will gently paw my leg requesting a spot by my keyboard. She has as spontaneously fused lower back due to arthritis, keeping her from just jumping from the floor, as had been her custom. If sitting on the couch, she will sit and stare at me until I pick her up. It would be hard to say there is urgency in her frequent appearances, but rather an increased awareness of how much we love each other, and a realization of the increasing velocity with which life is accelerating.

Our home...
So here we sit, our little nuclear family, in a home filled with love and appreciation…all of us, for each of us.

It seems that in spite of so many differences, so many inter-species obstacles, we have found ways to communicate. I suppose it is simply a matter of keeping at it. You know, continuing to take the next step when there is one to be taken.

They say when folk spend decades together; they begin to take on characteristics of one other. I can’t say that’s true for us, but I can say we have found an increasingly meaningful understanding and rhythm that suits us well indeed. These felines are NOT passive passengers in our home, but active participants in the dynamics of our lives.

Molly and I try not to think about life without these little creatures who have brought, and bring, us so much joy. Yet, there are moments of reflection when we appreciate, as it is for the two of us, we will not always be graced with their presence. We are mindful we have been gifted in ways hard to express. So, we work not to take these little ones for granted, nor their contributions.

Appreciation is the key here…appreciation and a heavy dose of love. 

Yes sir, when all is said and done, “I think we are aging gracefully, the five of us….”

- ted

Sunday, May 1, 2016

The safest room in Arizona...

 "To become a good guardian, a man must be by
nature fast, strong, and a spirited philosopher.”
- Plato: The Republic

We were a little late arriving. The color guard and bagpipes that began the evening were finished and playing their way out of the ballroom.

The fellow at the door looked around pointing to several places where we might sit. There were a couple of hundred people at circular tables. We chose one in the back of the room.

It was an awards ceremony that happens every couple of years in the organization. I sit on a small advisory council, which led to the invitation. After introductory greetings by the leader of the organization, dinner was served.  We recognized a few folk from a community public safety class we had taken, and from seeing several of them around town.

We didn’t know anyone at our table, but we did not leave the evening strangers.  Molly is particularly good at this as she chatted up her tablemate to the right and the woman next to her.

The guest speaker was a retired Air Force pilot trainer, spoke about the balance of duty with other life priorities. He related a harrowing experience of having to bail out of an F-15 with a student pilot in the front seat. He said this event changed his perspective on his career and family. He showed a cockpit video of the malfunction and rapid descent of the aircraft. It was breathtaking. Both he and the student survived, but a photo of the crash site made it clear they were lucky that day. He said the driving ambition to succeed while single-mindedly focused on his career was fed by the “…tyranny of the urgent…”

I loved that phrase!

The point, to this audience of dedicated men and women, was the importance of broadening priorities beyond work – a sometimes-difficult task for people who choose this particular career path.

This event was the Oro Valley Police Department’s Biennial Awards Ceremony. Because it happens only every other year, it is a special affair for this group.

There were citations for excellence and vision, awards for the officer of the year, the saving of lives, medals of commendation and merit, as well as a medal of honor. There were, also awards for Citizen, Volunteer, and Civilian of the year. It was a celebration of the best of what this profession means to society.

No doubt we are lucky…
The community in which we live is in the top ten safest cities in the United States, and this is due in large part to the ethnically and gender diverse police, the leader of which is a visionary Chief. He believes in proactive policing and accountability of his officers for their actions. Of consequence, hundreds of hours of education and training occur yearly for the men and women of this organization that has received national attention for its community-policing model.

In a time when police departments all over the country find themselves stained by the actions of a minority of officers, it is important to express that the vast majority of people attracted to his profession feel called to serve the greater social good. As Plato expresses in The Republic, the Guardians are critical for providing social stability and safety.

We hear stories and see videos of police officers that are too willing to act inappropriately, but on this evening when the discussion turned to the use of deadly force, a quiet soberness filled the room. At the tables, that night were not just officers, but spouses and children. Every one of them understanding the risks that each day could be their last, and/or that of someone with whom these men and women might have to interact with deadly force.

Sadly, the press does NOT report the thousands of daily occurrences in this country where police do exactly what they are asked to do – protect and serve. 

This department understands the importance of community partnership and proactively engages such a policy. Our police are visible through community interaction events like ‘coffee with a cop,’ neighborhood safety presentations, personal house security checks, and a philosophy that if you call a cop, you will get a cop. Not just a warm body, but someone aware of community resources to help in any situation that might arise.

All of this is to say, we felt honored to be at the awards dinner. We also commented to one another, that all of the officers at dinner were armed, as I am certain were some their loved ones.

One can never foresee a time when something bad might happen – life is unpredictable. But as we sat at dinner last night, we knew this was not one of them.


Last night, not only was it an excellent evening…but we were in the safest room in Arizona.

- ted