I was a bad altar boy

Hope in Motion Update

2010-06-06T21:08:00.001-04:00

I must admit, when I was stretching this morning at home I was a bit nervous. After all, I was about to partake in my first race since 1992 when I stopped running the Waveny Park concert series. I was filled with self-doubt, which is a runner’s worst enemy.

Once I got down to Columbus Park, my self-doubt was replaced by an overwhelming sense of emotion. In the sea of orange tee shirts I saw young people and old people. I saw people of many different nationalities and faith backgrounds. I saw two nuns wearing full habits and smiles as they spoke with participants before the race started. Then I saw Jack Stobbie whose wife Jean lost her battle with cancer a few months ago. I was running on Jean’s Team and, upon seeing Jack, I had to fight back tears.

I saw friends from High School and people I used to lifeguard with who are now doctors at Stamford Hospital (which is a very scary thought because I also remember our staff parties). I saw teachers from my children’s school and parishioners from St. Gabriel Parish in Stamford, the church I grew up in.

At the starting line, I was again filled with doubts. I had to wrestle with the question, “Will I be able to do this?” Then the DJ played Beautiful Day by U2 and all doubt was erased.

I started running and did not stop until 3.1 miles later. When I felt tired I thought of Maria, my grandmother, who lost her battle in 1992. I thought of Randy, my best friend’s mother, who lost her battle before she could meet her granddaughter. I thought of Kim who is battling now, of Susan who is in remission, and of Kevin who lost his battle last week and whose funeral I will miss tomorrow because of a business trip. I thought of Nyree who is a survivor and of Declan who is surviving.

When I crossed the finish line I did not focus on the pain in my knees or the sense of fatigue I started to experience at the two-mile mark. I felt proud to take a small step in battling a disease that does not afflict based on gender, age, nationality, religion, or sexual orientation.

Of course, I could not do it without my sponsors. The thirty-five members of Jean’s team raised $2,761. Of that, I was responsible for $356.00. In particular I want to thank the following:

Nick Cappiello for once again proving that the best friends someone can make are indeed made in grammar school.

Greg Dowd and Mike Morgan for reminding me that brotherhood is not for a day, a year, or a college term, but for life. AEKDB

Brent Bodick for reminding me that, no matter how long it has been since you see ach other, that a true friend will be there when asked.

Marc Becker for reminding me that not all people who work at Unilever are nutty (or are they?).

And Nick Braccia for just being the person you have always been since the squelch days.

I also want to thank all of you who kept me and my fellow runners/walkers in your thoughts and prayers including Carrie Hall, Robin Falkoff, Nyree Pinto, and Joe Andreana.

For those of you who would still want to make a donation, the Bennett Cancer Center is keeping this drive open until the fall. You can make a donation online using the link below.

Thank you all once again!

Mike

http://www.hope-in-motion.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=338611&lis=1&kntae338611=228B0AC5200E48B8AFCE16C0781DAF4E&supId=257670240

Hope in Motion

2010-06-02T16:31:00.004-04:00

Maria Fauci was my grandmother and one of the strongest women this world has ever known but she was not strong enough to beat cancer. She died just shy of Mother’s day in 1992 and just a few weeks before my high school graduation.

Randy Cappiello was probably the second strongest woman I have known in my life. She died after a brief battle with cancer – she was barely 56 years old.

Declan Ratner is the young son of a friend of mine from high school. He is currently fighting Leukemia.

Jean Stobbie and Jack Stobbie recently celebrated 50 years of marriage. The following day after celebrating this golden anniversary with their family, the family was informed that Jean had terminal cancer. She died a month later.

Kim Hart is my best friend's younger sister. She is battling brain cancer for the second time. "Chemo sucks," is her favorite phrase these days.

Kevin Sutton was the Assistant Vice Principal of Student affairs at Trinity Catholic High School. He lost his battle with cancer this morning. He was my age.

Every single one of you knows somebody who has been affected by cancer. It kills without discrimination. It’s time to turn the tables and sentence cancer to death.

Perhaps it’s too lofty a goal. Perhaps you are reading this and scratching your head wondering, “What can I do?”

More than you think.

This Sunday, June 6, I will be participating in the 15th Annual Hope in Motion – Walk, Run & Ride to benefit Stamford Hospital’s Bennett Cancer Center. Help me fight this killer by pledging what you can – no amount is too small.

If you cannot make a financial donation, please pray for all of those who are participating, that we may finish the event safely.

Pray for the families of those who have lost a loved one to cancer. For those who celebrate bittersweet holidays such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, Mother’s Day, and Father’s day feeling as if something is missing.

Pray for all those battling cancer and for the repose of all souls who have died from cancer.

Pray that fewer people will have to sit across from a doctor who likely starts the conversation no one wants to have with the words, “Thank you for coming in, have a seat. The news is not good.”

Pray for the research scientists who will be using the money raised from this event to help find a cure for this killer.

Pray for your families and all those close to you that they may never have to feel a lump and wonder to themselves, “what if?”

May God continue to bless you all.

Michael

http://www.hope-in-motion.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=338611&lis=0&kntae338611=A80549FE7B644FD39D64A01AF1DBC5C1

The Joy of Se_ _ _ _ _

2010-04-30T16:56:00.001-04:00

Serving - Not Sex. Sorry to excite anyone.

____

I remember as a kid my mother would always volunteer my brother Jimmy and I for various activities. We did everything from painting a rectory’s basement to cleaning a convent. In retrospect, “volunteers” was the wrong word to describe our status; “indentured servants,” would have been a more accurate description.

As you might predict, the anticipation of these activities was met with resentment. “How could you do this to us mom?” we would ask. “No one else has to do these things!” we would protest. She would stand her ground and give us a look that suggested, “Someday you will understand.”

A strange thing would happen, though, once we were engaged in one of these activities. We would start to have fun; not in the “spoonful of sugar sense” of Mary Poppins as we were not creative enough to make a game out of it. No, we started to have fun because, deep down inside, it made us feel good to do these things.

Damn, I hate it when my mother is right!

We are told that we are only truly giving of ourselves when we expect nothing in return for our actions. What a freeing concept! Doing something for someone else out of the pure goodness of our heart. These can take the form of random acts of kindness (i.e. helping a stranger change a tire) to premeditated activities (i.e. completing project pro-bono for a non profit).

I will admit, I am in need of inspiration heading into this weekend. What have you done recently that may fit this criteria? Better yet, can you recall any times when you were the beneficiary of such activities? Thanks in advance for sharing!

Mike

My God Complex

2010-04-13T07:23:00.002-04:00

My mother is Italian and my father is Irish, which of course makes me Catholic. In many ways I am an exception to the rule; many in my generation do not practice the religion in which they were raised. While that may have been true for me during my college years, over the past 13 years or so, I feel as if I have truly embraced my faith.

I wish I could say that my devotion comes solely from 12 years of Catholic school or being an altar server but, while these factors certainly contribute to my faith life, there is another to consider. I grew up having a God complex.

Let me explain.

My father, Don, is many things; generous, honest, and frugal being just three virtues espoused by “the Don.” However, when God was giving out patience, my father must have chosen to “heavy up” on other virtues. As such, when the slightest bit of stress came into his life, the man could combine multiple swear words into legendary phrases.

My personal favorite actually does not contain any foul language at all; when someone is driving poorly on the road he simply refers to them as a “club member.” The club my father is referring to, of course, is the Asshole Club (my mother made him shorten the phrase to club member during one of our long drives from Connecticut to Florida when we came into contact with many “Club Members” along I95 South).

Back to my God complex.

When trying to teach me something that I could not grasp right away, where I had a tendency to cause a little “excitement” in the man’s life, he would often shout “Jesus Christ” before instructing me to make a correction. For example:

• While teaching me how to cut the lawn: “Jesus Christ, cut it in straight lines.”
• While teaching me how to drive: “Jesus Christ, don’t cross over the yellow line.”
• While teaching me how to play golf: “Jesus Christ stop picking your head up, God damnit!”

During this last instance, I turned to my father and said, “Don’t take the name of my father in vain.”

The God complex was now complete.
_____

What you have just read is some “material” I am going to try during an amateur night of standup comedy while on vacation in ft Lauderdale at my parents country club. If you think it is funny, please let me know. I have some additional material as well, I just don’t think it is appropriate for a “Catholic” blog.

I am a total bonehead

2010-04-09T22:20:00.003-04:00

I am writing this while on vacation with the family in Ft. Lauderdale. As always, our vacation started off with a little drama. Pre 9/11, we traveled to St. Lucia and forgot a birth certificate; luckily we were able to find a sympathetic ticket agent who let us through security so long as we promised to have it FedExed to us while we were away. Honeymoon saved!

A few years back, we did not realize that one of our licenses was expired. Again, we were able to sweet talk our way through security. This year, however, we forgot to check the bag containing my wife’s makeup. The TSA agent gave us two alternatives; go back past security and check the bag or leave over $200 worth of makeup with him to be thrown away. No sweet-talking our way out of this in a post shoe/underwear bomber world!

My wife looked to me, the experienced traveler, for advice. All that would come out of my mouth (in front of our kids and the TSA agent) was, “How could you forget to check that bag?” said in a condescending tone. This was, of course, not the correct response. It was completely disrespectful as it was a completely honest mistake on her part. I was frustrated because I did not want her to loose all of her makeup but I also did not feel as if we had enough time to go back through security to check the bag.

After I calmed down, I told my wife that I would pay for all the makeup she would have to replace, but this did not do much to make amends. It was not about the makeup, it was about how I reacted to the situation.

As I sat on the plane, I started to think about my friend Jack who came up to us after church one day with a big hug and said, “Enjoy this now. My wife and I were just with our kids celebrating our 55th wedding anniversary. The next day we found out that Jean (his wife) has terminal cancer. It was not a perfect 55 years, but we loved each other very much. Treasure this time.” With that, he went away in tears. (As an aside, If you have never heard the song Don't Blink by Kenny Chesney, listen to it right now. It could have been written based on Jack and Jean's life together).

I heard that Jean died two weeks ago. We have known Jack and Jean for 6 years, as Jack is the general manager of the swimming club we have belonged to over that time. He was always very social we had many conversations over that time on everything from Catholicism to politics to how fast my children are growing. He and Jean had a relationship to be envied; how many people can make it 55 years?

My reaction to my wife during the beginning of our trip (as well as other times in our lives) is something that I need to work on. My sense is that these reactions I have stem from a place of both selfishness and impatience. In these situations, what my reactions say is that I place more value on convenience than I do my wife’s feelings. Hopefully, now that I am more conscious of this tendency in my own life, I will be able to choose a better response.

Jack’s words to me after mass that day remind me that marriage is not meant to be the end to a race (i.e. dating), but the beginning of a long climb. There will be peaks and valleys along the way and it is how we deal with these peaks and valleys that will help determine whether or not a couple will make it or part ways halfway up the mountain. Now that I am more conscious of my own flaws, I hope that my reactions to stressful situations in the future will be more positive; helping us to keep climbing the mountain of marriage till death do us part.

Not for a day, a week, or a college term, but for life!

2010-04-01T11:52:00.002-04:00

If you ever wonder whether or not you have true friends, I’ll offer a litmus test; don’t see or talk to some for 10 years. Then, randomly, pick a night to go out to dinner/drinks with them and, if after all that time, you can sit down and pick up as if you saw each other yesterday, it is safe to say that you have some true friends.

Last night I did just that with some guys I went to college with. The bonds of the Kappa Sigma Fraternity made us brothers (gasp) almost two decades ago and this bond is as strong as ever!

Given that my job as a marketing consultant is a lifestyle job (i.e. there is a very blurry line between my professional and private lives) and that I am an active father of eight-year-old triplets, I don’t make the time to see old friends as much as I would like. This is unfortunate given that most of these guys live within a 12-mile radius of my home and some are literally right around the corner. Even though family life and professional responsibilities take priority, it is still important to maintain these old friendships. Every now and then you need to relive the old days while, at the same time, create new memories.

Seated with me at the table were the following (referred to by nickname only) Conan, Sloth, Zach Daddy, Big D, Slaw, and Po. A cast of characters indeed! During our time together, we of course played the “remember when” game and had the opportunity to catch up on more current events; what our kids are into, what we do for work, etc.

After being kicked out of a restaurant in Norwalk at 10 pm, we found ourselves looking for a place where we could extend the evening. We wound up at the Ash Creek Solution; one of those places I have passed a thousand times but never entered. What appeared to our wandering eyes as we entered this fine establishment? Karaoke night in full swing! Couple that with the fact that everyone in that place seemed to know each other and we immediately felt like the odd men out. We immediately knew that this was a world that we could not break into so we went off in the corner and had our final beer.

One by one each of us left citing either having to get up early with the kids in the morning or having to get to work earlier than usual as our primary alibis for leaving (mind you, these thoughts never crossed our minds 20 years ago when leaving Yellow House, Huskies, Teds, or the Upper Deck). As such, I was struck with two sobering (literally and figuratively) thoughts: 1. It is possible for men with nicknames like Conan, Sloth, and Slaw to grow up and 2. Our alcohol consumption has dropped by 110% over the time we have known each other.

Neither of these points are negative, just surprising to anyone who knew us 20 years ago at the University of CT.

Grace Before Meals

2010-02-05T17:42:00.001-05:00

I had an embarrassing thing happen today. During breakfast with my boss, Cathy, I noticed that before she ate, Cathy bowed her head and closed her eyes. Remembering that Cathy had been battling a cold for the better part of a month, I interrupted her moment of silence to ask if everything is all right.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just pray before every meal.”

Bonehead alert! Here I am ‘Captain Catholic’ as my friends often call me. I teach a first Communion class to second graders at my church. For Heaven’s sake, I write a Catholic blog and never miss a mass on Sunday. Not only do I not recognize when someone is giving thanks before a meal, but I have the nerve to interrupt them while they do so.

After my interruption Cathy felt as if she had to apologize, “I am sorry. I should have told you.”

Imagine that, I interrupt her during a prayer and she feels the need to apologize to me. What kind of world are we living in?

Why did this happen? Obviously, saying Grace before a meal is something that has gone by the wayside in my own life. Like Saul on the road to Damascus, the event from this morning knocked me on my rear end. It is an opportunity, though, to get back “on the ball” and start the practice of saying Grace before meals again in my own life.

As a result, I have two things to say to Cathy; 1. I am sorry for interrupting your prayer and 2. thank you for shining a spotlight on my own spiritual deficiency. This was the best gift I received today.

Resistance Training

2010-02-05T17:40:00.001-05:00

I started working out with weights while I was in college. My best friend, John, was planning on joining the Marine Corps after he graduated and wanted someone to bulk up with. Prior to my junior year at the University of Connecticut, strength training was a foreign concept. Any exercise I did was purely cardio; which explains why I weighed only 135 lbs for most of my college life.

I quickly learned that lifting weights was painful. The day after my first workout with John, I could barely move my arms. The day after that was even worse! “It will get better,” he said to me.

After the soreness went away, we went back to “the cage” as the gym in the field house was known back then. After a month or so of strength training four days a week I noticed two things; I was getting stronger and I was getting bigger. My friends started to notice too, “Dude, like your getting big,” my roommate 'flounder' said to me one day. I was no longer sore after every workout but only after those where we pushed ourselves. Over time, I learned to enjoy the soreness that came after pushing myself hard; it was like a little reminder that there was always room to grow.

The lessons I learned about resistance training were simple; increase the resistance and increase your strength. Keep the resistance the same, and your body will get complacent and not change; you will plateau. Stop working out all together, and you will loose what you have worked so hard to gain.

There is a parallel in our spiritual lives. Consider that sin can be like a barbell coming towards us as if we were doing a bench press. When our faith lives are strong, we can push sin away more easily. When our faith lives are weak, we have a harder time avoiding sin and, over time, a weakening resistance to sin can lead to it crushing us.

As we get older, the temptation to sin can get bigger as can the sins we are tempted by. As such, it is important to continually grow in our faith so that we can more easily resist sin. There is an unfortunate reality, though. Many of us were born into a faith and spent years, largely at the insistence of our parents, building up our strength in that faith. However, adulthood comes along and we are likely not under the watchful eyes of mom and dad who always “prodded” us to going to church at least once a week.

Adulthood, therefore, is not the time to walk away from faith because we can get away with it. Rather, it is the time to start practicing the faith more seriously so that we can be strong enough to push away the bigger sins that will come our way.

Video Killed the Radio Star?

2010-01-19T10:45:00.002-05:00

Bless me father for I have sinned. I have been listening to the 80's channel on Sirius XM and feel quite guilty about it.

I am not sure why I am drawn to this station so much; perhaps it is the original MTV VJs who I watched incessantly (much to my mother’s dismay) in my formative years or perhaps I am living out some “Peter Pan” type issues, but I just cant turn away from the sounds of Cindy Lauper, Tears for Fears, and Simple Minds. One thing is for certain; it certainly takes me back to a time in my life when things were simpler.

The other day I was treated to the sounds of Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles. Ironically, Mark Goodman introduced it on the radio. Looking back, the popularity of music videos and MTV certainly changed who could be a pop star; it was no longer good enough to have talent, you also had to have looks.

This was a change in convention, not unlike the change in conventions experienced as a result of Christianity.

In the days before Abraham, the known world was largely polytheistic in that people worshiped many gods. The actions of Abraham and, of course, Moses, would change the convention of polytheism and move civilization towards Monotheism. The changing of conventions, though, did not end with Judaism.

In the days of Christ, the area where He lived was under Roman rule and many were expecting the savior to be a great warrior delivering them from foreign rule. That Christ taught about loving neighbors, “giving Ceaser what is Ceaser’s,” and care for the poor/lowly, confused leaders of the time. That His influence was so strong was a threat to existing conventions.

Changes to convention are of course met with resistance; just like there were accomplished musicians who resisted the MTV phenomenon, there were leaders at the time who resisted the message of Christ. Luckily, there were those who embraced this message and who were courageous enough to spread it under fear of imprisonment, torture, and death.

That Christianity and Roman Catholicism have survived over 2,000 years with the odds stacked against them is testament to how powerful the messages of love, charity, generosity, and forgiveness really are. Of course, we would not have made it so far if it were not for those early martyrs who gave their lives for the faith. Likewise, we would not be able to practice our faith in community with others if it were not for the men who answer their calling towards the Priesthood.

In this year for Priests, I ask that each and every one of you reading this post remember to keep not only your parish priests in your prayers but also all those young men who are discerning a vocation towards the priesthood.

A Life Worth Noting

2010-01-11T08:12:00.000-05:00

Growing up as a Catholic boy in Stamford, I went through a rite of passage that my older brother and countless others experienced before me; I became an altar server. While there were those boys whose parents “strongly encouraged” them to serve their parish in this manner, my motivations were different; I was in it for the money.

My family belonged to St. Gabriel Parish on Newfield Avenue, which is also where I attended middle school. One of my fellow altar boys, who was a bit older than I and “retiring” from the “club” clued me in on a little secret; when you serve mass at a funeral, you are likely to earn a tip. Furthermore, funeral masses in our parish tended to be at 10 am in the morning during weekdays; as such, if I were scheduled to serve a funeral mass I would not only earn a little extra money, but also be legitimately excused from class. Jackpot!

Even at twelve I was a bit entrepreneurial so, while entering the Church on a Sunday morning, I would always pick up a bulletin and scan it to see if anyone had died that week. If so, I would approach our pastor and ask if he needed any help with the funeral. Father Bob was always more than happy to accept my offer of service and I not only had a ticket out of Ms. Gullo’s Literature class, I would likely have enough money for a new cassette tape (it was the 1980s after all).

In my two years attending St. Gabriel School, I likely served 20 funerals. Initially, it was difficult to see the grief worn by those who came to mourn the deceased; however, over time, I started to become immune to it. Thankfully, I have not had to attend too many funerals since those days in the late 80s.

Last week, however, I found myself sitting in a pew at a St. Cecilia Church to pay my respects to a former neighbor, John Marsalisi. That the church, one of the larger Roman Catholic churches in Stamford, was as crowded as it was serves as witness to the number of lives that John touched in his all to brief 54 years on this planet.

As I sat waiting for the funeral mass to start, I thought to myself this will not be hard to get through. After all, I had so much practice going to funerals in my youth, I was not fearful of shedding a tear. Then, it hit me. As I saw John’s wife Ann being escorted down the aisle by her four children, I felt the tears well up in my eyes and I lost it. I was so full of sympathy for the young family left behind by this untimely death that my only response was to start crying.

The sadness I experienced at the funeral was broken briefly by the sound of children playing. It sounded like they were right underneath all of us sitting in the church. Then I remembered that on cold winter days, the students of St. Cecilia School have gym class in the church hall, located in the basement of the church. What a nice contrast; while we were celebrating the end of one life, we were treated to the joy experienced by those in the beginning of theirs.

Ever since I heard of John Marsalisi’s passing, I scanned my local newspaper for a story on him. Certainly a man who impacted so many lives through his commitment to the community would have an article devoted to his life and untimely passing. Instead, I kept seeing a story on a rectory facing demolition. This inanimate object has no feelings and its demolition would leave no widow or children behind. From what I have read, it is not even usable in its present condition.

As such, I am left with a sobering thought; we sometimes are so blinded by our passion to fight for “little” things that the really important things, life for instance, are often ignored. As we enter 2010, I hope that we as a society choose to devote our time, talents, and resources to things that matter and will have a positive impact on others in the community. RIP John Marsalisi; I will pray for the repose of your soul and for the beautiful family left behind by your untimely passing.

The Fuse

2010-01-03T13:54:00.003-05:00

Today I have the unenviable task of putting all of the Christmas decorations away. It seems that it was just yesterday when the kids and I took them down from the attic and I remember completing that task with excitement and anticipation. Today's task, however, is met with sadness; it is hard to believe that another Christmas has come and gone.

This year, my kids made Advent wreaths at school. I am looking at them now and am sad that I have to put them away; not the kids but their wreaths. Since we light one candle a week for four weeks, each wreath has four candles of slightly different lengths. I don't look at these candles, though, as having slow burning wicks; rather, I see them as having fast burning fuses. The Sunday's of advent went past me in the blink of an eye and suddenly, BANG, it was Christmas day. The burned wax on each candle a subtle reminder that the flame that burns down the wick forever alters the candle's shape.

The holiday season is like that as well. As we moved through the Sundays of Advent we were preparing ourselves for the coming of Christ. Those of us who look to Advent as a time for reflection, and not simply a countdown clock for Santa Claus, should leave the liturgical seasons of Advent and Christmas as changed people; as altered as the candles on our Advent wreaths.

I hope that all of you who follow my musings had a very merry Christmas. I wish all of you health, happiness, and prosperity in the new year.

Hitting Curveballs

2009-12-08T12:31:00.002-05:00

When I as knee high to a grasshopper (who says that?) I played in the Springdale Little league for Palmer’s Market (which, like some of the other sponsors including Handyman Hardware and Machlette Laboratories, is no longer in business in Springdale). I remember having a hard time hitting curveballs (to be truthful, I had a hard time hitting anything – the only thing that explained my on base percentage was the fact that my smart ass attitude was a target for pitchers). I think I have a permanent Rawlings tattoo on my left hip!

I remember one game in particular where Palmer’s Market was playing my brother’s team, Handyman Hardware. On my grandmother’s gave, the opposing pitcher was 11 feet tall and had blond hair. He kind of reminded me of William Zabka; the actor who played Johnny Lawrence, the antagonist in the Karate Kid. Any rate, he threw a curveball that curved right towards my body on its journey from the mound to the plate. Being a righty, it slammed into my left hip. I was down for the count. When I took my base, the first base coach asked me, “why didn’t you get out of the way?” I replied, “I did not see it coming.” No more words were spoken between us, but his expression said it all, ‘maybe its time for glasses.’

It dawned on me yesterday though that long after our ball playing days are over, the curveballs keep coming, albeit in different forms. Consider the following events which unfolded over a 12 hour period yesterday;

As I was waiting to board a flight from New York to San Diego, I spilled coffee on the only dress shirt I brought on the trip (I was only to be gone overnight). No problem, I said to myself, I was going to have 4 hours to kill once I landed in San Diego as my focus groups were only going to start at 5:30.

As we approach the San Diego area, the pilot comes on and tells us that we are being diverted to Long Beach due to bad weather in San Diego. Bad weather? Really? It rains once a decade in San Diego and I have to fly on the day of an apparent monsoon. Okay, stay calm, it will all work out.

We land in Long Beach and the pilot does not know how long we will be there. However, anyone with a carry on bag can deplane and make their own transportation arrangements to get to San Diego. Having friends who were stuck on an airplane for 30 hours, I decided to deplane and rent a car. It is only about 119 miles to San Diego from Long Beach and I had 4 hours to make it. This should not have been a problem only for the fact that A. the GPS I rented did not work and B. people in Southern California apparently don’t know how to drive in the rain. It was stop and go as I got onto the 405 S.

At this point, I was fuming. I thought I was going to miss my focus groups; a first in my career. Then, as I was driving south, I saw a break in the clouds and the sun came out for a brief moment. Something caught my periphery vision; the biggest and brightest rainbow I had ever seen in my life. I felt as if I could open my window and touch it. I then looked to my right and saw the Pacific Ocean. I could not help but smile at its beauty. So, I decided to do what one does in such situations and turn on the radio. The first song I heard was Simple Minds’ Alive and Kicking:

You turn me on, you lift me up

And like the sweetest cup I'd share with you

You lift me up, don't you ever stop, I'm here with you

Now it's all or nothing

'Cause you say you'll follow through

You follow me, and I, I, I follow you

What you gonna do when things go wrong?

What you gonna do when it all cracks up?

What you gonna do when the Love burns down?

What you gonna do when the flames go up?

Who is gonna come and turn the tide?

What's it gonna take to make a dream survive?

Who's got the touch to calm the storm inside?

Who's gonna save you?

Alive and Kicking

What an appropriate message to receive at that point in time! Suddenly, I felt the stress and frustration which were on my back like a monkey leave me as I traveled south towards San Diego. I then started to reflect on the topic of the night's focus groups; the US Army. Images of soldiers I had seen in airports reunited with their families after a long deployment only increased my happiness. The thought of soldiers thousands of miles away engaged in war and separated from their families during the holidays made me think that my current ordeal was nothing compared to what they face.

I made it to San Diego with 15 minutes to spare before my first focus group. Not enough time to get a new shirt so I just started off the session making fun of my own clumsiness; group participants always like it when the moderator is a bit self deprecating. The groups went great and I felt as if I did a great job for my client.

At the end of the night I realized that, after 35 years, I finally managed to hit a curveball.

The Advent Adventure

2009-11-30T22:57:00.001-05:00

We children of the 80s hold a special place in our hearts for 1985’s Back to the Future. Imagine being able to travel backwards or forwards in time with nothing but a used DeLorean, a Flux Capacitor, and, of course, some plutonium stolen from Libyan nationalists. I know stealing is a sin but let’s face it; they were up to no good with it.

What would we do with such ability? I can think of a few actions I would like to erase from Carlon history; like the time I poured chocolate milk down my parents brand new hi-fi during a big party at our home or the time I said something really hurtful to someone close to me. In short, I would rather change some poor decisions I made rather than take a trip into the future to see who will win the 2010 World Series and make some serious cash by placing a winning bet (that said, I don’t need a time machine to know that it will likely not be the NY Mets).

What does this have to do with Advent? Last night my wife asked me to describe the significance of Advent to her and the kids. I’d like to think I learned something in my K-12 Catholic education so I offered the following reply.

Advent is a time of anticipation. It is a formal time set aside for us to reflect on whether or not we are ready to accept a savior into our hearts; and all that doing so entails. That Advent has its own season suggests it is a time to retreat from our regular lives to identify any obstacles we may have put up through our actions that may prevent us from fully experiencing the Christmas miracle.

Advent then becomes adventure; a time to identify our shortcomings, map a plan to overcome those shortcomings, and begin a journey down a more Christ like path.

While we don’t have Dr. Emmett Brown’s time machine at our disposal to erase the poor decisions of our past, we do have one tool that can help us prepare for the miracle of Christmas in our hearts; the Sacrament of Reconciliation. While many Catholics, myself included, have drifted away from this Sacrament as we moved into our adult lives, we must recognize that Advent provides a wonderfully appropriate opportunity for us to make confession and return to a state of grace.

Beginning our Advent adventure with a blank slate will help us truly experience the presents that await us after the wax from that fourth purple candle of the Advent wreath begins to melt. No, not those presents that come in wrapped boxes under the tree. Rather, those gifts that come when we realize that a savior has come to this world to carry the cross of our shame. The gift of joy we experience by serving and loving one another the ways we want to be loved and the gift of relief when we realize that we can surrender our burdens to He who so loved the world that He offered unto us His only Son.

Every Breath you Take

2009-11-30T21:11:00.000-05:00

I was very close with my maternal grandmother. My twin brother suffers from asthma and was in and out of the hospital when we were little. He absorbed much of my mother’s attention and, as a result, my grandmother would drive west to Plantation, FL from her condo on Pompano Beach to help take care of my older siblings and me.

Grandma and I had a very special bond that was broken in May of 1992 when she succumbed to cancer. Her timing really was awful; it was right before Mother’s Day, my twin and I were just about to graduate from high school, my sister was about to be married, and my older brother was about to open his first wine store. It was hard to believe that she would not be there to witness these events and the parties that went along with them; she always loved a good party.

Is that entirely true though? Would she really not be there?

I have a vivid memory of my grandmother’s wake, not of the scores of people who came to pay their respects, but of the scent of the flowers that surrounded her casket at the Gallagher funeral home. I will never forget that smell.

I remember leaving the funeral home after all of my siblings; I had borrowed my sister’s car for the night as she drove with her fiancée. I wanted to be the last person to leave. As I left the funeral home, my sense of olfaction was cleansed by the warm spring air as I walked through the parking lot and got into the car. I turned the car on and was greeted by the Police’s Every Breath You Take:

Every breath you take and every move you make

Every bond you break

Every step you take, I'll be watching you

Every single day and every word you say

I’ll be watching you

I inexplicably smelled the flowers from the funeral home as I heard Sting’s lyrics. I know this song is supposed to be from the point of view of a stalker, but for that brief moment in time it was being sung to me from the point of view of my grandmother. I truly believe it was her final gift to me; a way of telling me that even though she is gone, I will be okay. She will still continue to watch over me.

What a comforting thought, that those who have left this world to join the next will still continue to watch over us as guardian angels of sorts. Every now and then, when I am facing a difficult decision or a trial in my life, I sometimes smell those flowers as if my grandmother were right next to me trying to help me find a solution to whatever is troubling me.

As Christians, we believe that Jesus is still with us and by turning towards Him and putting our faith and trust in Him, our burdens will ease. I truly believe that the experience I had the night of my grandmother’s wake is a gift. It is a reminder of the reality that through Christ, all things are possible and all will be taken care of.

The Sin of Denying a Vocation

2009-11-24T09:59:00.002-05:00

I had a Religion teacher in high school, Mr. Roper, who impressed upon us the nature of sin. Up to that point in our lives, we believed that various acts, in and of themselves, were simply sinful. For example, treating your mother and father poorly, treating others unfairly, lying about something, etc.

Mr. Roper though, told us why these sins were, well, sinful. He explained that all sins can be traced back to the act of alienating oneself from others. Further, by doing so, we actually alienate ourselves from God as it is God’s will that we love one another. The actions described above, and many others, stem from acts of alienation. Therefore, Mr. Roper argued, that there is only one sin in this world and that is the sin of alienation (not to be confused by the 1988 film Alien Nation starring James Caan who was also in The Godfather. From the Godfather to Alien Nation; I could argue Caan's accepting the lead role in this horrible movie was a sin in and of itself but I digress).

I took on this simplistic worldview for a while and then, while considering the life of one of my closest friends, I started to challenge my beliefs in this area. My friend Robert (not his real name) came from a very strict family. He was extremely bright making the honor roll during all four years attending a very prestigious Catholic prep school.

He was talented at both mathematics and writing. He could have been an accountant or writer, or perhaps a writer of accounting standards (as exciting as that sounds). However, when Robert left home to attend a very prestigious private University, the sudden influx of freedom was too much to handle. His grades slipped. He was given 4 warnings and was later asked to leave the school. He bounced around a few more colleges after that, but he never graduated. Now, this former honor roll student runs around doing odd jobs well below his ability. He often does not go to bed until 4 am and treats his personal relationships poorly.

I know that Robert’s home life was abysmal. While his parents supported him financially, the emotional support critical to fueling a person’s self esteem was not present. However, at what point to we wake up and recognize the need to overcome such an obstacle? At what point do we accept responsibility for the poor choices that we consciously make even when we know better? At what point do we choose not to have our present actions dictated by our past?

My friend’s experience and choices made me realize that alienation is not the only sin in the world. The conscious decision to deny one’s vocation is also a sin. It is a sin of wasted potential.

When I was younger, the term vocation meant a call to religious life; an arguably very narrow definition. Now I come to understand that we are all called to something; we all have abilities and gifts given to us by God and tasked to use these abilities to spread the Gospel’s messages of love, forgiveness and salvation. Its not just through preaching, but through raising a family in the faith, treating others with kindness, running a business grounded in moral principles, keeping a blog, etc.

Choosing not to develop our gifts and therefore not to use our abilities in the service of others is just as much a sin as bearing false witness against one’s neighbor. If we consciously choose not to cultivate these talents we are, in a sense, saying no to God.

As I write these words, I find myself at the crossroads where these two sins (alienation and denying vocations) interconnect. I can choose to alienate my friend and not encourage him to take a different path or I can pick up the phone and have a heart to heart conversation with him. There is much more to be said about this theme, and more words I can write; however, I have a phone call to make.

St. Leo - The Godfather

2009-11-24T09:24:00.002-05:00

The Godfather is one of my favorite books primarily because of Don Corleone; a character whose sense of family and honor is shadowed by his own brutality. It is hard to argue that "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse," is not one of the best character catch phrases ever ascribed to a character in print or on film.

A few weeks ago, our parish celebrated the feast of our patron Saint; St. Leo. During the homily, our pastor told us the story (again) of St. Leo and one of the things St. Leo (then Pope) is famous for. Atilla the Hun was planning on invading Rome until he was met outside the city by Pope Leo I. History does not account for what was said at the meeting, but Atilla decided not to invade Rome.

In my mind, Pope Leo I must have made him an offer he could not refuse. I wonder if any of Atilla's horses were missing a head after the meeting....

Back in the High Life

2009-11-19T22:02:00.002-05:00

This weekend I took the kids to see the most recent adaptation of A Christmas Carol. It is one of my favorite stories primarily because it deals with the very simple, yet powerful, theme of repentance. As rich as he is, Scrooge realizes that he has lived his life quite poorly and is given a second chance. Quite a Catholic (in the religious as well as universal sense) message indeed; we ask for forgiveness and a forgiving God grants it unto us.

Later that weekend, I was driving with the kids and Steve Winwood’s Back in the High Life came on.

It used to seem to me

That my life ran on too fast

And I had to take it slowly

Just to make the good parts last

But when you're born to run

It's so hard to just slow down

So don't be surprised to see me

Back in that bright part of town

I'll be back in the high life again

All the doors I closed one time will open up again

I'll be back in the high life again

All the eyes that watched me once will smile and take me in

I cannot help but think that Charles Dickens could have penned these lyrics for Ebenezer Scrooge to sing after he woke up on Christmas morning and realized that he is, indeed, alive.

The idea of a second chance goes hand in hand with the notion of freewill; we are free to choose the road on which we walk and our not predestined by our creator to take a particular direction. Sometimes that road is smooth while other times it is bumpy. If we learn from our mistakes, and sincerely wish to change the road on which we are traveling, it is comforting to know that we have a second chance; a mulligan of sorts.

How do we engage such a second chance? As Catholics, we often take for granted the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Many Catholics and non-Catholics alike question the need for this Sacrament to begin with. I used to be one of them. The notion that another man can forgive us our sins just because he wears a roman collar used to seem preposterous to me. Truth be told, I did not know what the Sacrament was all about.

As a 35 year old man I now realize that there are 3 components to this Sacrament:

The penitent recognizing that he has sinned and feeling a desire to be absolved of this sin
The penitent confessing his sin to a priest
The Holy Spirit working through the priest to absolve the penitent man of his sin

A reasonable person might question whether or not simply asking God on a personal level is good enough for seeking reconciliation. The counter argument to that is that when you confess to someone else, you make the fact that you have sinned more real. On a psychological basis, hearing your own words come out of your own mouth and flowing into the ears of another provides a sense of accountability for the sin. Theoretically, this action should reduce the chances of committing that sin again. On a theological basis, of course, the Gospel of John (Chapter 20) tell us that Jesus said to his apostles (the first priests) “Whoever sins you forgive are forgiven.” Theologically, then, Jesus bestowed this power to his closest followers.

Thinking this through, Freewill, then, cannot exist without the Sacrament of Reconciliation to help erase the mistakes we choose to make as we live our lives.

Scrooge had 3 confessors in A Christmas Carol; the ghost of Christmas Past, the ghost of Christmas present, and the ghost of Christmas yet to come. We need not seek out these 3 spirits to put our lives back on track. All we need to do is seek out a priest and ask to be absolved from our sins. And, believe me, priets will be happy to help. Many times, they are looking for a little company in the confessional.

Healthcare Reform: Treating the Symptoms and not the Cause

2009-11-19T09:27:00.002-05:00

President Obama, Hillary Clinton, and the majority leaders in both houses of Congress are not the first group of people to realize that the health care system in the United States is in need of reform. The US Conference of Catholic Bishops has been preaching on this for decades. The fact that health care costs have risen so high to the point where tens of millions of Americans cannot afford health care coverage or elect not to pay for it suggests that the current system is broken. Access to affordable health care is a key component of Catholic Social Teaching and the fact that millions of Americans do not have access to it is simply wrong; dare I say sinful. The Bishops are right to call for reform.

This issue has become politicized, meaning that a lot of people on both sides of the aisle use manipulated data points and fear tactics to push their agendas. Really difficult problems become very simple (albeit watered down) sound bytes. The average American has no idea what the proposed House bill is all about; it is, of course 2,000 pages long and no doubt filled with all of that legal mumbo jumbo that causes me to break out in hives (personally, the world would be better off with fewer lawyers and fewer tax accountants, but that is another post all together). The point is, all most of us know about this legislation is what we hear politicized on the news.

One issue that has received a lot of airtime surrounds whether or not federal dollars will be used to fund abortions. With over 50% of people in this country now considering themselves pro-life, the thought that their tax dollars may be used to fund abortions is, frankly, sinful. Initially, the President understood and respected this position as he, on multiple occasions, pointed out that abortion will not be covered by the legislation under consideration. However, over the past few decades we have come not to take our politicians at their word so, when a House Democrat from Michigan, Bart Stupak, pushed for an amendment clearly spelling out that federal dollars would not be used to fund abortions, President Obama should have been relieved for 2 reasons; 1 it clearly states something the president has promised and 2. this amendment was the primary reason the house voted in favor of the bill.

The fallout from this event has been interesting to watch. The President and speaker Pelosi along with other pro-abortion democrats are not happy with the House bill in its current form. They are not pleased with the Stupak amendment and many in the senate have pledged not to vote for any health care reform bill that contains this language. Given the President’s multiple statements regarding abortion and healthcare reform, it begs the question, why?

Put that maddening puzzle aside for a second. I suggest that even if you are pro-abortion, you should be in favor of the Stupak amendment if you want this bill to pass. Here’s why:

The bill does not prevent abortion from being funded by federal dollars in the case of rape, incest, or when the mother’s life is in danger. Otherwise, arguably abortion is not a necessary medical procedure but rather an elective surgery. Which other elective surgeries are covered by this proposed legislation?

Abortions are actually one of the least expensive medical procedures to have performed, particularly early on in a pregnancy. In fact, it costs less for an early term abortion than it does for many vision procedures or dental procedures that are not covered by most health plans.

This amendment does not ban abortion, it simply prohibits the use of federal dollars to fund abortions under the new legislation. It simply applies the principles of the Hyde Amendment to this new legislation. As such, cost to the woman seeking an abortion do not change as a result of the Stupak Amendment nor does her access to having that abortion.

All of this, however, should be a moot point. With or without abortion, health care reform, as it is being addressed by the administration and congress, should not see the light of day because it does not address the root causes of why health care costs have escalated to where they are. Consider the following:

Doctors have to charge higher fees to cover exorbitant malpractice insurance premiums. Additionally, healthcare costs rise when doctors order unnecessary tests to cover their “you know whats” for fear of misdiagnosis which can lead to further legal liability. If this liability is not “capped,” this cycle of high premium/unnecessary tests will expand and continue to add to inflation in the healthcare sector.

Managed care organizations (of which the government is proposing to become the largest if the public option passes) only reimburse doctors a fraction of their fees. Additionally, doctors have to wait a long time to get paid and, as a result, must see more patients to maintain their income (and pay off all those debts incurred in medical school). Seeing 30+ patients a day (and finding the time to deal with multiple insurance hassles – ie taking multiple calls from a pharmacy about Ms. Smith's Medicare not covering Forteo) leads to fatigue, which increases the possibility of making a misdiagnosis.

The interrelated dynamics of number 1 and number 2 are what cause healthcare costs to continually inflate. They will continue to do so even if every American has affordable healthcare available to them. As a result, our taxes will increase proportionately. We will not be solving the healthcare cost crises; rather, we will be funding costs that will continue to escalate by robbing from Peter to pay Paul. Responsibility will now be on a wider base of Americans (i.e. all tax payers) vs. just those who currently pay for premiums. The fact that not all Americans pay taxes, but will have access to government sponsored healthcare is another post all together.

Real healthcare reform must address the root causes of escalating healthcare costs. Otherwise you are treating the symptom and not the cause. As such, with or without the Stupak amendment, this administration’s approach to healthcare reform should takeoff like a led zeppelin.

Proponents of Eliminating Ability Grouping Should Lace Up their Skates

2009-11-08T11:40:00.001-05:00

Originally printed in the Nov 12 Edition of The Stamford Advocate

Like many readers of the Stamford Advocate, I have been following the back and forth on ability grouping in our City’s public school. Both sides use their own biases to select data to support their arguments. Such conflicting statements based on supposed facts make it hard for readers to form their own opinion. Of course, as observers, we are left in the dark regarding where these facts come from, how many subjects were used in the study, whether or not other studies support conclusions etc. Importantly, we do not know whether or not these studies are conducted in markets comparable to Stamford on the basis of demographics, socioeconomic status, etc.

That said, we don’t have to turn to studies from Stanford, Harvard, Yale, or Columbia to make up our minds on this issue. All we have to do is sit rink side, courtside, or on any other “sideline” as we watch our kids practice for sports. This should not be hard for most of us to do as Stamford is such a sports oriented community.

Take hockey for example. My daughter is on the Tiger Sharks who practice at Terry Connors on Saturday mornings. The coaches take the entire group of kids and split them in half; those who skate better than others go to one side of the ice while those who need more help go to the other side. This is done so that those who are more advanced get more advanced instruction and those who need more help get more remedial instruction. My daughter was on the “remedial” side of the ice last year and worked hard to get to the more advanced side this year. She had a goal in mind (literally and figuratively) and she worked hard to meet it. As a result, her self-esteem improved as did her willingness to try harder to master her skating and puck handling skills.

Let’s go beyond practice and look at games. In games, hockey teams are broken out into 3 lines based on ability. The first line includes the “best” players while the second line includes those who are still mastering their skills. The third line includes those who may be newer to the team and need more instruction. Each line gets the chance to skate multiple times during a period. In games, the first line of team A matches up with the first line of team B. this is done to insure kids of similar ability play each other. What would happen if line 1 of team A faces line 3 of team B? You can debate the conclusion but, more often than not, I would pose that team B gets destroyed.

This same principle holds true for the playing field that is the classroom. Mixing our classrooms with kids of vastly different abilities may ultimately serve to hurt everyone involved. If our teachers choose to focus their time on those who need the most help comprehending a concept, those who have mastered the concept will suffer because they can’t “move on.” Alternatively, if the teacher caters to those who are most advanced, those who need more help will be left frustrated as they many not cannot comprehend the concept as quickly as others.

The motivation to eliminate ability grouping in Stamford public schools is supposedly to level the playing field for all of our city’s children. Proponents suggest that placing students in a lower performing track may do psychological harm to those in such track and increase self perpetuating feelings of helplessness which are hard to overcome. This is an issue of stigmas associated with such an ability group and not the result of being in that group. Perhaps we should work to remove the stigmas and not the groups themselves.

Further, proponents say that eliminating grouping will improve the educational experiences for our city’s minority students who are over represented in such ability groups. Even if eliminating grouping improves the educational experiences of some children, it does not address why certain children were in underperforming groups to begin with. This is the biggest flaw with the proposal to eliminate grouping; it fails to address why so many children from our more urban areas are over represented in lower ability groups. As such, eliminating grouping is akin to treating a disease by removing the symptoms instead of preventing the disease itself; sure it may work, but it is rather inefficient, and not a long term solution.

Human beings are diverse in ways other than race; we all have varying levels of ability. Some of us are stronger in certain areas than others. My twin brother was much better at reading and English (and you may argue writing) while I was stronger in math and science. Some of us learn differently than others, some of us need more time to grasp concepts while others grasp them quickly and are ready to move on. We need to learn at our own pace and be placed with others who learn at a similar pace. This does not mean that, as we master skills, we cannot “change lines.” Of course we can and our educational system should allow us to do so. Eliminating ability grouping will do more harm than good, even in those who are intended to benefit by such an action.

The Old Apartment

2009-10-30T23:09:00.000-04:00

Certain songs are like bookmarks; just hearing them takes us back to certain times in our lives (you were so right Kenny).

When I was in college, The Barenaked Ladies were just breaking with their first hit The Old Apartment; a quick piece of trivia, the video for this single was directed by Jason Priestly of 90210 fame (and who could forget him on the lesser-known Sister Kate?). I heard this song today and it took me back to 1990 something when life was certainly easier and the biggest problem I faced was whether or not go hit Ted’s or Huskies first on a Thursday night. Sorry Kenny, no short bed Chevy for this city boy.

Today, though, I heard this song with a different set of ears; a different filter of sorts influenced by all the grown up things I have done such as getting married, owning a home, and becoming a father. Let’s add getting back in touch with my Catholic faith to that list of events as well shall we?

This song is about someone who has left a relationship only to try and return to find that his love has moved on. The old apartment has been rented to someone else. The memories remain, but the writer can never live there again. While this may be true with our more “human” relationships, this is not the case when it comes to those relationships that are divine in nature. Our spiritual apartment, although it may be vacant, will never be rented to someone else. It is always waiting for us to come back home.

I know many people who have left the church and feel a tug on their heartstrings pulling them to come back home. They wonder will I be accepted? Will I have to be re-baptized? Like a child who has run away from home over a small argument with his parents, the Church will welcome you back and be comforted that you have come back.

The song Open Arms by Journey always made it on every mix tape I ever made for a girl; that’s right kids, before we had playlists we had mix tapes. Ill tell you about the lost art of the mix tape at another time. The Church will welcome us back with open arms so long as we make the first move (does anyone but me remember the show Its Your Move with Jason Bateman? “Block that kick, please block that kick,”). Sorry for the digression.

Are you one of those who want to explore a return “home?” Are you wondering what you have to do? Just take a deep breath and enter the old apartment that is your spiritual home. The locks have not been changed.

The $.99 Download and the Catholic Identity Crisis

2009-10-27T09:45:00.001-04:00

I remember studying psychology as an undergraduate and being introduced to Gestalt thinking. The primary philosophy underlying Gestalt thinking is that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. In practical terms, this means that we as people are all more than the sum of our memories and experiences. This goes hand in hand with the notion of freewill; our past does not chain us down to anything. Why do two people with similar upbringings wind up on different sides of the spectrum in life? Because we are more than what our genetics and past dictate we are

I think that to some extent this philosophy holds true for music. On its most granular level a song is much more than the sum of its core components; lyrics, notes, rhythm, melody, and harmony. On a more grand scale, an album is more than the sum of its individual songs. An artist will take time to consider what songs to include on an album and the order in which they should be placed. While this is especially true for concept albums that are designed to tell a story, it also holds true for regular albums; the artist has an idea in mind and from this idea songs are selected to be recorded, they are arranged in a certain manner, and an album is born.

The age of the $.99 download does a disservice to not only the artist but also to the listener. By not committing to the full album, the listener will not experience a song as it was intended to be heard by the artist; in the context of a larger album or story.

We have the same problem with religion; particularly within Catholicism. I know many Catholics who prefer the $.99 download version of the faith vs. embracing the entire album. I am not singling out those “Cafeteria Plan” Catholics who pick and choose which parts of the faith to believe or follow; we need healthy and open debate in the Church as the Church is a living being. Rather, I am referring to those Catholics who don’t embrace the larger implications of being Catholic.

The $.99 version of Catholicism is akin to practicing the faith by doing the bare minimum; attending mass once per week. Unfortunately, depending on what source of information you read, up to 40% of Catholics don’t even do that.

Calling oneself Catholic must not be something we do passively but something we are. Most of us are baptized Catholic when we have no say in the matter. It is a passive event. As we move through the Sacraments of initiation we often do so passively. But like the Velveteen Rabbit who eventually becomes real, we must continually become Catholic thorough our experiences and conscious choices.

Being a Catholic must become part of our identity; how we define ourselves. We can be no less Catholic than we can be less Irish, Italian, black or white. We must remember that being Catholic means we are to love our neighbor unconditionally and that the opposite of expressing this love is alienating others by our attitudes, behavior, and, most notably, apathy.

When being Catholic becomes part of our identity, we start to live every day seeking opportunities to serve others and, fortunately, we don’t have to look far. When we are conscious of our desire to serve others, we see need all around us. From the homeless man asking for a handout, to the confused tourist looking to make his way uptown, to a client who is struggling to make a business case to his/her management, opportunities to serve others are oftentimes an arms length away.

When does this ‘becoming’ begin? The Sacraments of initiation are a good start but it cannot end with one’s Confirmation. We must continue to live the faith day in and day out in order to live what it means to be Catholic. For this reason, joining a Parish, attending mass regularly, and being an active member of the Parish community are critical in our solving the Catholic identity crisis. Surrounding ourselves with others who believe as we do provides the encouragement we sometimes need to keep climbing the mountain (not hill) of faith.

When does this ‘becoming’ end? There is no expiration date on the Catholic identity. We don’t retire from it. It ends with our death; which to us as Catholics, of course, is really the beginning of an eternal life. That said, if every day of our lives is spent serving others in some capacity, that life full of giving and compassion cannot really die. Someone who has been impacted by our kindness and generosity will pick up where we left off. If our children are witnesses to our living with a Catholic identity, they will continue our work. The Catholic identity thus becomes cyclical; identity crisis solved.

It is not my place to determine how Jesus intended His message of love, mercy, and compassion to be heard. I can only assume He wanted them heard in the context of life’s present vs. its past. I can only assume that He wanted His message to only pass through our ears on its way to our hearts and into our DNA. As such, ask yourselves, are you living the $.99 download version of the Catholic faith or are you buying the album?

Molding Clay

2009-10-14T22:33:00.004-04:00

I remember being a kid and listening to certain tapes in my Sony Walkman so much that they would wear out and sound distorted after a while; kind of like when the batteries were running low or when the dentist gives you too much laughing gas. I would listen to certain albums/tapes so much that I would actually come to hate them after a while. Kind of Ironic, don’t you think? And, FYI Alanis, most of the things you mention in that song are unfortunate, not ironic, but I digress.

The point is, over time I became careful not to “party out” and listen to an album I liked so much that I would wind up hating it. When U2s latest, No Line on the Horizon, came out, I listened to it at least once a day for 2 weeks and decided to put it away until I saw them in concert. Most of the show I saw a few weeks ago centered around the latest album and it was only then I remembered how great this album is.

There is one song in particular that stands out; track 5 is I’ll Go Crazy if I don’t go Crazy Tonight. The last 2 lines of the second verse and the chorus stand out for me:

How can you stand next to the truth and not see it 

Oh, a change of heart comes slow  

It's not a hill, it's a mountain 

As you start out the climb 

Do you believe me or are you doubting 

We're gonna make it all the way to the light 

But I know I'll go crazy if I don't go crazy tonight

All of us spiritual seekers out there who actively pray that the hard hearts of others will soften are sometimes disappointed that the process does not happen as quickly as we would like. I know many people who are seeking to change the hearts of others on important social issues and many are left frustrated that the process takes so long and that little progress seems to be made. We have to remember that such a change does not happen on our time.

The Holy Spirit works more like a sculptor molding clay than a robot fabricating parts for a new Chevy. It takes time to chisel away the imperfect as the artist’s vision comes to life. It cannot be rushed. As the chorus of this song suggests, life is more of a mountain than it is a hill. To successfully climb a mountain requires faith and trust in others. To climb the spiritual mountain of life requires that we trust in something bigger than ourselves and that we make the time to analyze the sources of doubt that invariably spring up from time to time.

I love how the chorus ends suggesting an element of faith that the goal of making it towards the light will be accomplished but only after a little craziness is had along the way. This is a reminder of our own humanity; we may strive to live saintly lives, but every now and then we are reminded by our human nature that we will fall down along the way. The important question to ask is, what do we do when we get back up if we get back up at all?

5 Minutes of Funk

2009-10-11T23:25:00.001-04:00

As much as I miss the summer I have to admit that I love evenings in the fall; particularly when everyone else in the house is asleep and I have my dog Reilly and writing partner Clos Du Bois to serve as inspiration. And, no, Clos Du Bois is not related to Benson Du Bois; at least not that I know of. Perhaps we should ask Clayton Endicott to settle this one.

I spend a lot of time with consumers asking them questions about products, brands, unmet needs etc. but I am convinced that I really only need the answer to one key question to gain insight into their inner selves; What was the first record you bought with your own money? Okay, so maybe it was not a record, but for most of you it was probably a cassette tape, for another group of you it was likely a CD and for a small minority of you it was likely a digital download. Think about it though, with a ton of options to choose from, what music motivated you so much that you spent your own money on it.

I remember my first album purchase vividly, mainly due to the reactions of my parents and siblings. It was Whodini’s Escape. I was about 9 years old and growing up in suburban Connecticut and was supposed to be buying Van Halen or Duran Duran but, much to the dismay of people around me, I started listening to rap music. Escape was closely followed by Run DMC’s Raising Hell; to this day I remember my twin brother and my sister referring to my newfound musical taste as “rap crap.”

For a little white boy in Stamford, CT to purchase “black music” was unconventional to say the least, but I did not let it bother me. I liked it. It was different. Yet, after a while, my musical taste began to change and I started getting into Heavy Metal. “From bad to worse,” my mother would tell you. I had a fondness for Iron Maiden, Def Leppard, and much of the “white bands” from the late 80s (White Lion, Whitesnake, Great White, etc.). Then, my parents all time nightmare came true, I started listening to Rap/Rock fusion which was made popular by the Beastie Boys and a thrash metal band known as Anthrax who would pave the way for later acts such as Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit. A brief aside, thank you Rob Salminen who lent me his copy of Among the Living – I am still convinced the “bad dude” from Poltergeist II was the inspiration for the cover of that album.

Recently, I started listening to a country act called Big and Rich who tends to blend hard rock, country music, and rap into their songwriting. For many of you that may sound like a symphony from hell, but to me it sounds pretty cool.

Why am I sharing all of this? Consider that our musical taste may be unconventional to those who don’t share the same feelings. Others may not understand it; they may not like it. Faith is similar. To those who grew up with different belief systems, or no belief systems at all, seeing us practice and live our faith may be a bit strange. They may think us silly. This, of course, does not mean we cannot get along; I am sure all those years ago my siblings still liked me even though our musical tastes were different.

Sometimes, though, our actions might influence others to question their belief systems and explore new avenues that they may not have otherwise considered. Just as my friend Rob turned me on to some new music that I would never have considered listening to, the same principle may hold true for our faith lives. Perhaps this is why it is so important for those of us who have faith to not be apathetic about it and to not take it for granted. We must not let our faith lives go dormant once our “Sunday Obligation” has been met. We must go out in the world and serve others. It is through our generosity, our selflessness, and our care for others that we can be a force for change in this world.

If you have a minute, leave a comment with what your first album was. I'd like to know...

Hey Man Nice Shot

2009-10-01T14:58:00.006-04:00

Something amazing happened today, I got shot in the arm (figuratively of course). I was up for a project with a company that I used to work for and found out today that my current company was not awarded the contract. Apparently, someone I used to work for said some not so nice things about yours truly.

So, like Kenny Chesney, “I go back” to my former days with this company and my interactions with my former Bawana. Now it would be very easy for me to get angry about this and suggest that the old boss had a chip on his shoulder. So easy, in fact, that I did let my anger get the best of me after hearing this news. I was in one of those moods where only a little loud music would do and so I turned on the 90s rock station and heard Filter’s Hey Man Nice Shot.

As I listened to the song, I reflected on the news I just heard and dissected my reaction to it; which, you know by now, was not exactly positive. I then thought to myself, what if I am wrong? What if I did something that really hurt this guy and put him in a bad position? People only “blacklist” others when the offender has done something so terrible to cause a deep emotional wound. Could that be the case with me?

As I continued to reflect on that time in my life, I realize that it was not uncommon for me to concentrate more on my own self interests than those of the organization I worked for. I had certain career aspirations that were not in line with where my job at the time was going and it is plausible that my behavior may have been impacted by this “gap” between personal goals and circumstance. I took risks to make my job more in line where I wanted it to go vs. where my boss and his boss needed it to go. This likely led to selfish actions and poor judgement on my part that I was unaware of because I was blinded by ambition. So, who is the jerk in this scenario? Me of course!

Why admit this? Well, there is a saying I hear often which goes “We are not perfect, but God asks us to try anyway.” If we do not confess our own shortcomings, they will never become real to us and we will never learn from them. So, instead of being angry with the old boss, I want to thank him for reminding me that my halo is in desperate need of repair. In other words, Hey Man, Nice Shot!

4 Irishmen, the Lord’s Prayer, and Mel’s Diner.

2009-09-28T15:05:00.001-04:00

This past week I had the pleasure of attending a U2 concert at Giant’s Stadium. I started seeing U2 while I was in high school and have only missed one tour since. As such, I was very excited to attend. With the exception of arriving home at 2 am and feeling a bit, *cough* under the weather on Friday morning, the experience was positive…for me.

A friend of mine also went to the show but his after concert experiences were slightly different. Generosity got him to the show (his tickets were free) and generosity got him back to NY from the venue in NJ (he was offered a ride from strangers and took it). It is what happened after that which is troubling.

After leaving a bar later that night, my friend was physically assaulted and robbed by 6 unsavory characters. This guy was not a wall street type and no one was going to get rich off of this mugging. Bob Dylan once referenced the “freedom” which accompanies being poor when he sang “When you ain’t got nothing, you got nothing to loose.” I don’t think that is entirely true. When something like that happens, you may not loose much materially, but can certainly loose faith in humanity.

After the mugging, something right out of a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie happened. My friend found his way to a diner, started crying, and the owner of the diner bought him breakfast, “This one is on me,” he said. What a contrast, going from having your faith in humanity shaken to having it restored by one simple gesture.

Those of us who grew up in a Christian religion no doubt learned the Lord’s Prayer or the Our Father as children. There is one line in that prayer which sheds some insight into this event, “and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Three things are going on in this line. First, we admit that we will trespass against other people not just once or twice, but throughout our lives. The prayer is not written in the past tense but in the present tense (and arguably in the future tense). Second, we ask forgiveness for these crimes committed by us against others. Finally, we acknowledge that others will commit crimes against us in our lives. Inherent in this last line is that in order for us to be forgiven for the wrongs we have committed against others, we must be willing to forgive those who have wronged us.

Amazingly, my friend has recovered positively from this experience keeping a strong attitude and his faith in humanity. I am not sure I would be able to do the same.

As I think about the diner owner, I am reminded by lyrics to Trip Through Your Wires, a U2 song that was not played last Thursday night.

“I was cold and you clothed me honey

I was down and you lifted me honey”

Perhaps, the story of my friend is not just about how it is our duty to forgive others if we indeed seek forgiveness ourselves. Maybe it is about playing the role of the diner owner more frequently in our lives. We all know that there will be no shortage of people in this world who have been wronged by others. When they come across our path, we have a decision to make; shall we be like the diner owner and take them in or just keep walking on by? I am going to make a conscious effort to be more like the diner owner. From now on, you can call me Mel, just don’t tell me to kiss your grits.

Happy Birthday Mom

2009-08-30T21:14:00.002-04:00

Last week I shared some reflections on lessons that my father taught me. Tonight is my turn to do the same thing for my mother on the 30th anniversary of her 46th birthday.

_________

It is no secret that our most important teachers are not the ones we find in elementary schools, high schools, or universities; they are our parents. We take this for granted in our younger years spending most of our time believing that our parents know absolutely nothing. It is only when we mature through life that we realize that our parents may have, in fact, forgotten more than we will ever learn.

Mom, you are always there for me and this is something I often take for granted. There are lessons that you taught me in my life that I did not appreciate at the time. I resented the fact that you always volunteered Jimmy and me up for things such as cleaning the Convent at St. Cecilia, mowing Larry Lasagna’s lawn, and even becoming altar servers. I look back now in the rearview mirror of my brief 35 years and realize that you gave me many gifts that I never properly thanked you for. Five of these gifts are outlined below:

1. The joy of serving. Whether it was being altar servers, volunteering for activities in Church, or helping out our neighbors, you taught me how important it is to serve others. I truly believe now that it is only in serving that we can find true happiness and we often walk away from these experiences receiving more than we have given. I put up a fight when you asked me to do many things in service to either you or others; honestly, sometimes I felt as if you were singling me out. Regardless, I am sorry for being argumentative and want to thank you for teaching me the joy of serving others.

2. The importance of being on time. We only lived one mile from Church yet you would always allow a full 30 minutes to get to Mass. Being on time for appointments is a way to show respect to your hosts as well as your guests. Thanks to you, I have never showed up to a meeting late or missed a flight. Thank you for stressing the importance of being on time.

3. The Greatest Gift you can give is Your Time. When I was growing up, you always made it a point to spend time with each of your children one on one. Having three children I know how hard this is to do yet I see the joy and sparkle in my children’s eyes when I can spend time with them alone. Furthermore, you showed me how important it is to spend time with your family while they are young vs. pursuing personal interests. You often see me on the weekends spending time with the kids and not taking time to myself because of your example.

4. The Art of Consolation. I remember when I was in College Bea Kelly’s mother died and you asked Jimmy and me to come to the wake with you. I remember seeing a look of surprise on Mrs. Kelly’s face and how much it meant to her that we were there. I likely went to that wake kicking and screaming but left feeling better about myself because I helped someone feel better during a difficult time. Thank you for showing me the importance of consoling others.

5. Mothers know us best. I went through a large portion of my life feeling as if you did not understand me. At some point in my life, though, I realized that you know me better than I know myself. Thank you for always being there for me.

Uncertainty

2009-08-28T15:00:00.003-04:00

Someone close to me was up for a big job but did not get it because the person she was interviewing with was uncertain that my friend was the right cultural fit for their organisation. While my friend had all the qualifications they were looking for, and was told she came the closest out of all candidates interviewed, the other firm decided to hold onto their uncertainty and not take a leap of faith. As I counseled her, it got me thinking about the role of uncertainty and faith and promoted this post.

Uncertainty. It is, of course, human nature, to be uncertain. We are uncertain about small things; what toothpaste shall I purchase? Is this really the right laundry detergent for me? Do these jeans make my butt look big? We are uncertain about big things; is this the right car for me? Should we move in together? Do I wan tto spend the rest of my life with him/her? Shall we name our first child Harold?

Uncertainty. Sometimes it plagues us. It keeps us up at night. Sometimes it even clouds our judgment when we are torn between what the heart wants and what the mind says. Maybe Freud was right after all with all that mumbo jumbo talk about the Ego, Superego, and Id.

Uncertainty. The ironic thing is that we are often uncertain about how we deal with uncertainty. Should I talk to a therapist? Should I talk with my mom? Maybe dad will have some advice. Maybe I will talk to Father Harry, oh, wait, I am not Catholic – he certainly won’t want to talk to me….or will he?

Naturally, the opposite of uncertainty is faith. It takes more strength to have faith than it does to be uncertain. Then again, David was weaker than Goliath but he had faith and beat the giant. There I go, now I am uncertain about the nature of faith. It’s a shame; I thought I had something going there for a minute.

Faith. Once I was led blindfolded into a room as part of an initiation ritual to a club. I was led up a flight of stairs and then, suddenly, was pushed off the top. It was scary, but my friends were there to catch me. Trust is one of the components of faith. Sometimes, to grow, you have to jump blindly and trust that someone will be there to catch you.

Faith. A George Michael song with really pretty supermodels in the video. That scene with Cindy Crawford still gives me goosebumps. When the words ‘no more’ are added after the word faith you have a one hit wonder 90s metal band. Perhaps that is not a good example of faith. However, when the word ‘Blind’ precedes the word faith, you have a tremendous super group with Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood. Can you find your way home?

Faith. Sometimes it is hard to have faith when you have been burned in the past. That happened to me once. I once dated a girl who I found out was cheating on me. It took me a while to trust women after that but it was something I eventually overcame when I felt I met the right person. Look at me now, I am a married man and I don’t worry where my wife has been when she says she was at the gym for 3 hours....or do I?

Breathe!

2009-08-10T21:41:00.003-04:00

Today I was in Indiana running in home interviews for a client looking to get a little close to their core consumers. I had two distinct pleasures during this experience; one of my consumers was a HUGE U2 fan (her license plate was RATLNHUM) and the client I was traveling with was from Honduras. What do these two facts have in common? Read on and find out:

My client from Honduras told me stories of how common kidnapping is in her country. People from wealthy families are often kidnapped for ransom money that, once paid, almost always guarantees the release of a family’s loved one. I say almost because some families have paid kidnapper ransom money only to find that their loved one has been murdered. Families have gotten smart to this and always ask to speak with their loved one while negotiating with kidnapers to make sure that their loved one is still alive.

Kidnapping is so common in Honduras that my client was taught code words to use should she ever find herself kidnapped. For example, if, during the negotiation, my client said to a hostage negotiator “I have been praying to San Antonio” this means she is somewhere in the north.” If she said “I have been praying to Santa Maria,” this means she was somewhere in the south.

On the latest U2 album, No Line on the Horizon, the second to last Track is entitled Breathe. The Chorus is below:

Every day I,

have to find the courage

to walk down

into the street,

with arms out

gotta’ love you can’t defeat

neither down or out

there's nothing you have that I need,

I can breath

Breathe now

In America, there are those amongst us who face significant challenges including homelessness, un employment, underemployment, etc. That said, waking up and being able to take a deep breath is truly a gift we take for granted. For most of us, our daily lives do not require vast amounts of courage but for those living in Honduras (or in Morocco where the inspiration for this song came from), daily life is often wrought with fear. Imagine waking down the street in fear of being kidnapped? Imagine being a soldier in Iraq or a passenger on a bus in Tel Aviv wondering if today will be the day you loose your life to a suicide bomber.

In America, life is certainly something we take for granted and this is evident in many places. Most often, the battles we fight are petty and political; we often take for granted the freedom we experience. We rarely stop and give thanks for the simple act of waking up and taking a deep breath without fear. I think I will put that on my list of resolutions, to give thanks just for waking up in the morning.

Darius Rucker is Alright by Me

2009-08-01T23:57:00.002-04:00

Cracked Rearview by Hootie and the Blowfish broke when I was in college. As such, I hold a special place for “Hold My Hand” and other songs from that album much like my friend Dixon holds a special place in his heart for recordings off of Neil Young’s Rust Never Sleeps.

This week on the Cape my wife and had a heavy dose of modern country music, a fondness for which we have shared since we danced to Garth Brooks on our wedding day. The CMAs are the preferred award show in our home, but I digress.

Darius Rucker, former lead singer of Hootie and the Blowfish, is now a solo country artist and his song “Alright” was in heavy rotation last week on the station we were listening to. If you have not heard this song yet, click here and give it a listen before reading the rest of this post:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p11jV8bo2oc

This is one of those songs when, listened to closely, that, to borrow a line from Bowie, hits you “like a sock on the jaw.”

If you don’t have the time to listen to the whole song, consider the refrain:

Cause I got a roof over my head

The woman I love layin’ in my bed

And it’s alright, alright

I got shoes under my feat

Forever in the eyes starting back at me

And it’s alright, alright

Yeah I got all I need

And it’s alright by me

How many times do we say to ourselves, “I would just be happy if I just had a…” fill in the blanks: new kitchen, new bathroom, iPhone, new computer, new house, more money, etc. etc. etc. But there is wisdom in this song as well as in an old Eagles lyric:

So often times it happens

That we live our lives in chains

And never even know we have the key

Most of us have all that we need in what we already have. I look at my kids and I really could not ask for more in life. They are healthy and happy (most of the time). I have a wife who puts up with my insanity and never lets me forget that I am human. So why do we always want more?

I often chalk that up to where I live; Fairfield County, CT is very competitive on a social level. People drive fancy cars, send their kids to fancy schools, and oftentimes judge each other based on the clothes they wear and the company they keep. So the solution, of course, would be to move away from it all. Right?

Wrong. This shallowness can be found anywhere. Letting it affect you is a choice. Darius Rucker reminds us, in a way that only country music can do, that we may not have all that we want, but we usually have all we need. I look forward to your thoughts on the matter.

Love is Blindness?

2009-07-18T00:21:00.002-04:00

Please bear with me as I am feeling rather deep this evening. Take a moment, close your eyes, and take a deep breath. Now, remember the first time you fell in love with another person. I bet you remember the year and maybe even what you were wearing. Certainly you remember the music (or bear with me and pretend that you do). The first time I fell in love, U2’s Auchtung Baby had just been released and it is an album I consider flawless to this day.

It was quite a departure from anything they put out in the 80's and I remember at the time not liking it too much myself. But it grew on me; kind of like my recent proclivity for single malt scotch.

The last track on the album is called Love is Blindness. I remember seeing U2 play end a show with it in the fall of 1991 at Madison Square Garden; we had horrible seats behind the stage. We didn’t care. The Pixies opened up for U2 and I remember to this day seeing the back of Frank Black’s head as he sang “Outside, there’s a boxcar waiting;” lyrics I would not appreciate until I was older.

Back to your first experience falling in love – tell the truth, wasn’t it great? Better than any drug or drink; a dragon you might still be chasing? I listened to Love is Blindness tonight; by chance as my iPod was on shuffle and I was walking the dog in the rain. The Lyrics hit me like a punch in the face from Tawny Kitean:

Love is blindness

I don’t want to see

You wrap the night

Around me

Take my heart

Love is blindness

Go back to the time when you first felt the love of another person. Was it that first person you thought of in the beginning of this post, or was it someone else?

“The perfect love drowns out all fear.”

Gifts of Spirit

2009-07-18T00:15:00.005-04:00

This past year, our triplets turned seven. It was the first time in seven years that we did not have a birthday party for them. Initially, they were upset about that because they would not be able to share their birthday with their friends. Truth be told, they were also upset because they were not going to get as many birthday presents as they had received in prior years.

My wife and I are trying to raise the kids to not be selfish and overly worldly, but that is a hard thing to do where we live. All their friends have so much and, as a kid, you sometimes have a hard time understanding that and seeing the bigger picture. Deep down inside, I suppose I don’t expect them to understand it.

What kills me though is when they come to us and say “but we don’t have anything to play with.” What upsets me is not that they are not thankful for all the toys that they have, but because they are blind to the gifts that they have that they cannot see.

Our children are extremely artistic. Give them a blank piece of paper along with some markers and they can create masterpieces. They are happy singing to themselves, not caring who is listening to them or what they sound like. They freely give hugs, sometimes to strangers. Their innocence is evident in the constant questions they ask.

These are all gifts that I myself once possessed and lost somewhere along the way. I am overly conscious of my actions; I can't spend an hour drawing, even if its to save my life, and I cant remember the last time I truly bared my soul to a random stranger. My innocence was lost a long time ago.

Maybe I need to take a page out of their playbook. Any suggestions?

A Broken Mirror

2009-07-18T00:15:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, my friend Leo and I saw Angels and Demons. For the record, we are both practicing Catholics and we, in spite of seeing the movie, are still practicing Catholics. Imagine that…

When I was a child, I broke a mirror. My mother told me it would be 7 years bad luck (even though she is Catholic and should not believe in such superstitions). When a mirror breaks, it can never be put back together. But what about a person’s spirit? Is it like a mirror?

I have a friend named John who is as close as a brother to me. He joined the Marine Corps after college; we all thought he was crazy. He enlisted. He wanted to be with the everyday person. As I understand it, basic training in the Marine Corps is grueling – they are known to break you down. And, as I understand it, the purpose of breaking you down is to make you a stronger person. Now some people don’t become stronger and they “fail,” that is, they leave the Marines before becoming a Marine. But what of those who become a marine? They become stronger people; stronger in body and stronger in spirit.

I would like to think that those of us who have faith in something larger than ourselves are more like Marines than we are mirrors. There are many times when our faith is tested and we walk away stronger for it.

Who are we to think our faith is as strong as it can be? Recall the Apostles who walked with Jesus. The saw Him perform miracles and they still questioned who He was when they themselves were put to the test. Thomas doubted Him. Peter denied Him (3 times I might add). If the Apostles, who walked in His footsteps, doubted Him, who are we not to doubt?

The point is, faith is completely irrational. As such, we will always doubt it. Faith is also a seed that we have to continually water and shed sunlight on. What are some of the ways we can help our seeds sprout?

"You can do it, We can help"

2009-07-15T15:04:00.001-04:00

While my parents live in Florida for most of the year, they spend summers up in Connecticut. During the summer, I try have lunch with my father on a somewhat regular basis as I always find some wisdom in the stories he shares about his experiences with American Express, the Coast Guard, or the New Rochelle Postal Service (“I learned quickly not to finish my route too early or else they would figure out we could handle more routes and therefore need fewer letter carriers.” According to him, my father knew every “Gin joint” in New Rochelle. But I digress.

My father’s stories always start with the same phrase, ”Have I ever told you this story?” To which I usually reply something snarky like “I suppose I will only know if you told me the story you are about to tell me when you actually start telling me the story.” Dad’s response is always the same, “Don’t be a smart ass.”

I never learn.

Back in the 1970s American Express had started to look beyond travel for card volume growth and was signing up retail stores to start accepting “The Card.” In those days, the sales person would work with the prospective merchant to fill out the application and it would be sent along to Amex HQ in New York for approval. A friend of my father’s in Atlanta filled out an application for a hardware store to take the card. He was surprised when it came back as being declined with the reason being “Amex is not targeting hardware stores.” Perplexed, this associate of my father’s asked my father for help and my father obliged by coming down and seeing the operation, which was unlike any he had seen before. Having contacts in the operations center of Amex, my father hand delivered the contract to those who could authorize it and the contract was authorized through the “Back Door.”

30 + years later, The Home Depot still takes the American Express Card.

What was potentially a missed opportunity turned out to be a big win for American Express all because 2 people had passion for something and could see the value in it even though it was “off strategy.”

How many missed opportunities do we have in our own family lives? Maybe we say no to our children when they ask to sign up for an activity because it has no interest to us:

“What, you want to play hockey? Your mother and I never played hockey…we are just not a hockey family…”

That happened in my house (and my daughter, incidentally, loves the sport and can skate with the best of them). Thankfully, we decided to let our daughter play hockey and the decision to do so was truly an eye-opening lesson for me on my own parental journey. We should not limit our children based on our own personal interests. Within reason, we should let them try on many hats until they find those that fit.

Remembering Linda Richman

2009-07-10T13:32:00.001-04:00

A client who wanted to understand point of entry into a certain product category recently hired me to help uncover the motivations that led to product trial. To accomplish this I asked groups of consumers who use the category to prepare a collage of pictures that represent the primary reasons they first started using this product. The use of pictures to represent feelings is a great way to understand the more emotional vs. rational drivers of behavior. While these consumers had a variety of reasons for presently using this particular product category, the pictures chosen to represent their early experiences all had the same driver lurking behind them; parental influence.

Out of the 20 or so consumers interviewed, each chose to include pictures of family. As I explored this theme more, I uncovered the following; each consumer stated that the product under question was something that was always in their homes and, as children, they saw their parents using it every day. In addition, product was considered taboo for children to use, although there was no legal age restriction on who could use the product.

Therefore:

Regular use by parents and other adults

the taboo nature of the products for children

a strong desire to see what the fuss is all about.

It was clear; entry into this category was driven by the desire to become more like an adult and less like a child. As the day of interviews progressed, the fact that our behavior as parents has such an impact on the choices our children make hit me right between the eyes.

Between work, going back and forth to our children’s activities, and helping our kids with the basics, we sometimes forget that our kids are walking hard drives eagerly looking to fill their available gigabytes with information about their world. What do they see us, their role models, doing in our spare time? Do we get upset when our kids spend half a morning on the couch watching TV instead of playing outside? To explain their behavior, let’s look at our own. What do they see us doing in our spare time?

The product category I was helping my client investigate is rather innocuous, but what if it was something more damaging to children, like alcohol? I would venture to guess that we would hear the same themes uncovered. As we think about all that we want for our children we have to remember that they will learn just as much, if not more, from our actions and behaviors as they will from our words.

The Pope and Obama

2009-07-10T13:30:00.000-04:00

While President Obama is in Rome this week for the G8 summit, he is scheduled to meet with the Pope. This meeting is causing some outrage amongst Catholics who question why the Pope would want to meet with President Obama given the latter’s support of abortion. This is not surprising considering the outrage leading up to the President’s commencement address at Notre Dame (was there a slow clap at the end of the President’s address like there was at the end of Rudy)?

Could the Pope taking a meeting with the president suggest that the Vatican is softening its stand on abortion? I’ll take “strongly disagree” for $1,000 Alex.

Let’s think outside the realm of Religion for a minute and consider the role doctors play in our lives. Who are doctors here to serve, the healthy or the sick? The answer is, of course, both. Doctors help the healthy stay healthy though preventative care and they of course are available to help heal those who are sick.

The Church is like a doctor whose job it is to maintain the spiritual health of its members but also heal those who could be considered spiritually ill. In this light, Catholics should view the Pope’s meeting with President Obama as the opportunity to change his heart on the abortion issue and not as an endorsement of his pro-choice views.

Not to deflate the importance of their differences on the abortion issue, but I wonder how far apart the Pope and President Obama are on other important issues including immigration, war, the availability of healthcare, and general public welfare. We may never know as our media prefers to focus on areas of conflict vs. areas of agreement.

Seeing the Need for Compassion

2009-07-06T16:15:00.002-04:00

A few weekends ago I offered to do the grocery shopping and took the kids with me. Note, this is the first uncharacteristic move I made that day.

The shopping trip was similar to most we have been on complete with arguments over what snacks and drinks to buy, who will sit in the cart, and, of course, if each could have a balloon upon checkout. Indeed, this trip was like many others until we were making our way to the checkout counter. In front of us there was an elderly man, probably in his 80s, shouting at a store employee. I am not sure what the old man’s name is but for the sake of argument let’s call him Peter. Another person asked me if I would intervene and I did something uncharacteristic of what I would normally do in such a situation; I intervened.

I told my kids not to move and went right to the man who was pushing the clerk. I tapped him on the shoulder, looked into his eyes, and asked him what was wrong. In broken English he tried to explain to me that the clerk accused his wife of shoplifting and he was trying to defend her honor. Again, I am not sure what his wife’s name is so, for the sake of argument, lets call her Maria. This action on my part took just enough time to calm everyone down and for the store manager to arrive at “the scene.”

I walked away with the kids and went to self-checkout only to have the store manager track me down and hand each of my kids balloons as a thank you to me for helping diffuse a tense situation. The manger explained to me that Peter’s wife is senile and had a history of unintentional shoplifting.

As I reflect on the gift of this encounter I wish I could have spent more time with Peter. I would like to know how long he has been married, what Maria was like when she was younger, and the challenges he faces as a man living with a woman who likely forgets who he is. But I suppose one does not think of such questions while shopping with triplets.

Is there a lesson here? In my mind, its that we must always show compassion to those in need. The trick for us is to actually take the time to “see” those in need and not be blind to the needs of others; even when they take the form of a crazy old man at Stop and Shop.

What do Mulch and U2 have in Common?

2009-07-06T15:41:00.002-04:00

Another run today and another chance to see how faith and culture intersect.

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Every year I start an argument with my wife over mulch. I know it sounds crazy but it used to boggle my mind why we had to lay down new mulch every year. She always told me it made the house look nicer and it prevented the weeds from growing where we did not want them to grow. This year, we went cheap on the mulch. As I was bringing in the paper this morning, I saw weeds poking through where we laid down mulch this Spring and, I must say, it was not attractive. Score, Nicole 1, Mike 0.

As the day progressed I decided to go for a run around lunchtime, as the weather was too good not to get outside. As is my custom, I took along the iPod, selected U2 from the “artists” menu and then selected “all songs” and “shuffle” as listening options. I always get some inspiration from U2 and enjoy the possibility that I will hear a song that I have not listened to in a long time; or ever before. Such is the case with Flower Child.

During the sessions for All that You Can’t Leave Behind, the band recorded a song called Flower Child. While it never made it to the album, it did find its way to a compilation entitled U2 Medium, Rare, and Re-mastered. The refrain is as follows:

The seeds that you sow 

You wanna watch them growing 

Wild, you grow wild 

You grow wild in my heart 

Wild, you grow wild

 You grow wild in my heart 

Wild...

I started to think that our children are the seeds that we plant. It brings me great joy to see our triplets grow and develop (alongside, of course, the anger and frustration that arise when they do something which could be counterproductive to their growth and development). That said, as parents it is our job to provide the fertile soil, water, and sunshine that will enable them to blossom into happy adults. We have to set a good example for them and teach them values that they can use to aid in decision-making later in life.

During the run I also reflected on one of the big decisions my wife and I are facing; namely whether or not to keep our children at the school where they currently attend or to place them in our public school system. Their current school only has 2 classes per grade while the public school has 5. In short, we would be able to place them all in different classrooms if we switched schools (right now 2 of them share a classroom). We would like them to have independent experiences and it seems like the later option will be able to provide that. The later option also has us giving up the smaller, family focused environment in which they are thriving.

Is independence a natural desire? That’s kind of a funny question coming on the heels of July 4^th but one to consider nonetheless. From the time we are born we are taught to grow up and be independent, but is a drive for independence a conditioned response to what our larger society values? I can see where co-dependence can be disabling but at the other end of the spectrum, isolation is as well.

People do think we are crazy for obsessing on this so much but at the root of our obsession is the desire to see our children blossom. Which path leads to fertile soil, water, and sunshine and which path leads to mulch? I suppose only time will tell. Feel free to share your thoughts.

Paul Simon and an Old Pair of Nikes

2009-07-06T15:37:00.004-04:00

I wanted to share with you a memory of my father that was published in The Stamford Advocate in June of 2008.

My father has had a wonderful impact on my life and it motivated to write this piece.

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What do an old pair of Nike sneakers, Paul Simon, The Advocate and the State Theatre have in common? My father, Don Carlon. When I was growing up, my father taught me lessons of sacrifice, generosity and frugality through the example he set for me and my brothers and sister.

Sacrifice: Growing up, my father had one pair of sneakers that were, what seems like, from the Washington administration. I remember being somewhat embarrassed by these old sneakers and asked him why he did not get a new pair. His reply was simple; that these old sneakers still fit. It is only now, as the father of 6-year-old triplets, that I come to see an additional reason why the old sneakers remained in his life for so long - he kept wearing old sneakers so his children could have new ones.

Generosity: My father is a very generous person - he and my mother put all of us through college and some of us through graduate school, giving us the building blocks to have successful careers. In addition to being financially generous, dad is also generous with his time. My twin brother, Jimmy, and I were paperboys for The Advocate while in middle school. We had a pretty big route, spanning many streets and homes off Newfield Avenue. You all know how big the Sunday papers are - and these were very difficult to deliver in a timely manner off my BMX bike. So on Sunday mornings, Dad would load us into the white Oldsmobile and drive us to deliver the papers. We would listen to Paul Simon's "Graceland" in its entirety while doing so. To this day, I listen to that flawless album on a regular basis, sometimes with a tear in my eye, as I think about my father taking the time to help us deliver those newspapers.

Frugality: Those of us who grew up in Stamford remember the State Theatre as the place where you could see a somewhat new movie for a fraction of the cost of the other theater chains. If there were ever a movie we wanted to see (such as something completely inappropriate for a 10-year-old like "Sudden Impact") my father waited for it to come to the State and we would see it, albeit later than most people in town, for a discount. That is only where the frugality begins. Prior to pulling into our parking space, we would visit the Food Bag, pick up some sodas and popcorn and bring those into the theater with us ("They rip you off at concession stands - I remember when popcorn was a nickel."). The icing on the cake was my father trying to pass my twin brother and me off as children to get a lower ticket price ("Bend down a little boys and Michael, walk with a limp."). Never mind that he would try this when we were both shaving on a regular basis.

As I look back on my childhood, I could never imagine growing up with anyone else as my father. Sure he had his quirks (black dot tests, creative swear word combinations, endless stories about the 20 jobs he had while putting himself through Iona College) but I will use this opportunity to say something I don't say nearly enough: I love you dad!

An Alternative Take on the Death of Michael Jackson

2009-06-30T09:54:00.002-04:00

This was published in today's edition of the Stamford Advocate (www.stamfordadvocate.com) in the "Letter's from Readers" section. I figured it was a good way to start off this blog. What do you think? Was that last line too much?

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Those of us who graduated from the University of Connecticut Storrs in 1996 had the pleasure of hearing Quincy Jones speak during commencement ceremonies for the college of liberal arts and sciences. Being caught up in the moment, I do not remember much of his speech but I do remember Mr. Jones referencing all the talented people he had the pleasure of working with throughout his career including Michael Jackson. There is something else that we class of ‘96’ graduates also share; we are children of the ‘80s.’

There are many memories that we children of the 80s share including a space shuttle explosion, a president who loved jellybeans, a Pope who was nearly assassinated, and, of course, the video for Michael Jackson’s Thriller. There was a period of time when even we predominantly white kids from St. Cecilia’s school would attempt moon walking down the hallways. I clearly remember Brian L. who proudly wore a white sequence glove and Colleen H. who had more Michael Jackson pins on her jean jacket than there was denim.

And then it happened; we turned on Michael. After a while, it was not cool to listen to Michael’s music. The gloves and pins were tossed aside for other icons. Yet it wasn’t just a change in fads that turned on Michael, society as a whole turned on him as well. Allegations of sexual abuse, drastic changes in appearance, and erratic behavior filled headlines for the past decade or so. Now, shortly after his death, we remember the good times; the singles, the dance moves, the Grammy’s. His star is shining again.

It begs the question, if we were asked our opinion of Michael on June 24th (the day before he died) what would we have said? Where was this outpouring of reminiscence then? There is a lesson in Michael’s death that transcends stardom, musical taste, and popularity. I ask that each of us take a look around and identify the Michael Jackson’s in our lives. Maybe they are once close friends or family members who have gone down a self-destructive path. Maybe they drink too much or abuse other substances. Maybe it hurts us to look at them now because we just can’t recognize them anymore.

Yet perhaps if we continue to reach out to them and continue to show them we care, their sense of hopelessness may start to erode. Perhaps, due to our kindness and outreach, they might find the strength to start turning their life around.

If there is a positive lesson in Michael Jackson’s death it is that we cannot afford to turn our backs on those truly in need; especially those who we call mother, father, sister brother, friend, and, sometimes, pop idol. I think I will take my own advice and start by looking at the man in the mirror.

Moment of Surrender

2009-06-30T09:47:00.004-04:00

The below is another submission that I sent to the Busted Halo Show (M-F 7pm-10pm, Sirius 159, XM 117) for their segment entitled Faith and Culture Thursdays. If you have not done so yet, I strongly encourage you to purchase U2's latest album No Line on the Horizon. It is a cross between their work in the 90s and the style of The Unforgettable Fire. An amazing album.

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While out running yesterday, U2s “Moment of Surrender” came on the iPod. The chorus and one verse in particular stopped me dead in my tracks:

I was punching in the numbers at the ATM machine
I could see in the reflection
A face staring back at me
At the moment of surrender
Of vision over visibility
I did not notice the passers-by
And they did not notice me

I was speeding on the subway
Through the stations of the cross
Every eye looking every other way
Counting down ’til the train would stop

Starting with the time we are born we are pushed (unless of course delivered by C-Section and then I suppose we are pulled) into a world that wants us to be independent. Parents are taught not to pick up crying babies. As parents, we cannot wait for our children to walk by themselves (so we don’t have to carry them), talk for themselves (to tell us what they want), and ultimately live by themselves. This independence is not a natural state. God does not want us to be independent from Him – why would it be His will to be independent from our human families? We are taught to keep our guard up and not appear weak. Many of us are taught to never surrender.

We all need a moment of surrender every now and then to reflect on not only who we are as people and how we fit into the world, but to spend time listening to the will of our God. It is in these moments of surrender that we become most creative due to His inspiration. When we fully surrender our wants, needs, and fears over to God good things happen. It takes a strong person to be able to do this and it is something I work on personally.

Don't be the Rule, be the Exception

2009-06-30T09:39:00.004-04:00

I have been a fan of Jim Breuer since his days on SNL. He has a show in Sirius Satellite Radio called Friday's with Breuer that is a true definition of "Reality Radio." The biggest mistake that Raw Dog Comedy made was not letting him continue with his daily show "Breuer Unleashed" from remote locations as he toured. I had the opportunity to see him in Stamford recently and as I read more about his career choices it dawned on me that he is a great example of Faith in Culture. It inspired me to write this piece which was read on the Busted Halo show (The Catholic Channel, M-F 7-10pm Eastern). They do a segment called Faith in Culture Thursdays (Sirius 159, XM 117). Give a listen to the show, it is not what you would expect.

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Jim Breuer. Here is a guy who was a major player on SNL for a number of years and who was posed to have a major career in comedy/entertainment but walks away from it (for a while). Why would anyone do that? According to Jim it was to take care of his family – he said something like “Hollywood will be around forever but my kids will only be young once.” So he puts the career on hold, helps raise his kids, and helps to take care of his ailing father. How many of us would have the strength to do that? In the go go go world of Fairfield County, CT it is clear that Jim is the exception, not the rule. In our social circle, fathers (and many times mothers) are not around to spend time with their kids; sacrificing these special years for higher income, bigger titles, and (consequently) emptier lives.

Now Jim finds himself building his career back up, hitting the road doing stand-up, doing voiceover work in movies and planning a new stand up special for Comedy Central. It takes faith to make a move like that; to put professional aspirations on hold realizing that ‘you can always go back.’ In short, Jim's story encompasses two themes; the importance of embracing family life at the expense of worldly aspirations and having faith that “it will all be alright.”