One of the sales rallies I wrote for IBM many years ago had as its theme “The Power of One.”
At the time, I had no idea what that meant. So I wrote the usual corporate fluff.
But now I understand the power of one. It comes down to this . . .Read more
This just in . . .
My new book did not make the “100 Notable Books of 2017” list that will be published tomorrow in The New York Times.
In a way, I’m glad. Because some of the non-fiction books that made the list leave me scratching my head.Read more
As I prepare to gather with friends later today, I can’t help thinking about past Thanksgivings with those dear to me who have passed on.
I am thankful that I am here to remember them, because the Jewish people say the deceased live on as long as they are remembered.Read more
My blog post today is a shameless, undisguised supplication for birthday salutations on Tuesday, October 17, when I mark “A Big One.”
Your well-wishes for the occasion may take any form you wish: phone calls, texts, emails, Facebook postings, UPS or FedEx deliveries.
Floral arrangements, gourmet food baskets, and show tickets are always appropriate. No puppies or kittens, please.
All I’m after is adulation.Read more
In the shortening days of Cape Cod October, the only birds I hear are blue jays and crows. Their screeching adds to the depressing prospect of approaching winter. But the calls of the jays also brings me back to summer days at my grandmother’s house.Read more
I had the rare privilege this week of having both a book and a poem published on the same day.Read more
My Puerto Rican island of Vieques wears a dark cloak of invisibility. No electricity. No water service. No air flights to and from the island. No ferries run. No Internet or phone communications. No press coverage. No way of knowing if friends and families there are safe. No idea if my house still stands.Read more
They said we'd look back on our tears and laugh. They never told us that someday we'd look back on our laughter and cry.Read more
When I was growing up in Perth Amboy, New Jersey, we moved frequently from rental to rental—my father always on the lookout for a better apartment (and to stay a step ahead of the bill collectors). The place with happiest memories for me was a low-income, Lefrak City-like complex of semi-detached houses. Each had a lawn, a little porch, and a clothesline.
It also touted a pack of harmless street urchins who easily accepted me as one of their own.Read more
August arrived last week. Its arrival brightened my outlook and mood, because it signals that the end of the packed Cape Cod summer tourist season is in sight. On the morning after Labor Day, my local roads and favorite restaurants will return to normal.
But August doesn’t exist. Nor do days, weeks, months, or seasons. Not even time itself. They all are products of our own fabrication.Read more