2016 Presidential Primary Season

The Republicans: Its’ like the Real Housewives only they’re Presidential candidates and instead of being in one city, they move from state to state each week. Otherwise it’s the same lowest common denominator personality driven "stuff". A subset of our population has watched / rubbernecked this format and the Media is smart, knows this will sell, and doesn’t care about its public trust enough to not leverage it in this campaign cycle.

So the Networks just follow the formula; each week there’s a Town Hall or Debate, the sound bites get re-purposed in the following news cycles, and a couple of days later the Stations report the primary results and have their talking heads opine about them. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Leading the charge is the Nielsen gift that keeps on giving – Donald J – who is more than happy to prop everyone’s ratings. We’ve gotten so used to and desensitized by his Brand on The Apprentice that the only difference now is instead of his opening sequence being “Money, Money, Money” by the O’Jays Sunday nights on NBC, he’s on every channel all the time and, oh yes, he happens to be running for President. Aside from that nothing has changed and it seems apparent to much of the population that that one variable – seeking the highest office in the land - isn’t a biggie. So Disney, Moonves, and NBC run this all the way to the convention and then we’ll see if Trump is voted off the island.

The Democrats: Meanwhile the remainder of the AlbertFinney/Network folk that feel like they’ve been screwed for the last 30 years and haven’t been consumed by that anger are “Feelin the Bern” based on the Senator from Vermont’s Vision. However when asked in debates for his tactical plans to enact his strategies…he’s still seems to be working on that...while Hillary is there to describe how she’ll execute - on his messaging. She should be thankful he’s in the race. Every Ali needs a Frazier – look what happened to Tyson when he didn’t have a worthy opponent for all those years. As Hill still doesn’t seem to be a compelling candidate – even sans pant suits - she can stay close to Bernie ideologically and then take those delegates/voters to the finish line because they won’t not vote after the lather that Sen. Sanders whips them into – especially considering what may happen if they don’t. The only reason they’ll stay home on the first Tuesday in November is because they’re packing for Canada. She’s like the efficient Subaru that’s drafting behind a Mack Truck going cross-country on I-80.

Keep in mind that we’re still seven months out from the general election and this is a marathon probably with additional twists and turns further on down the road. It reminds me of that old Bugs Bunny cartoon that ends with “RabbitSeason, Duck Season, Rabbit Season, Duck Season, Elmer Season”.

Who knows, with “The Most Interesting Man in The World” recently announcing his retirement, perhaps Mr. Real Estate has that new "terrific" and "huge" opportunity to focus on which is more aligned to his persona.

Espana

Tuesday, May 19^th - Our Trip to Espana

This is the first adventurous trip Carol and I have taken since our Honeymoon. The first few days I kept having to remind myself I’m on vacation, having been so routinized to feel that if I’m not constantly connected via email I won’t be able to stay on top of my work related stuff.

After hitting Minyan with Carol to check the box and get a traveling prayer while doing Hagbah and Gelilah and then packing, we left around 3:30 PM to drive to the Schaffers, where Rich was kind enough to drop us at JFK instead of spending $300 on parking for 9 days. Di called on the Bluetooth on the way over, reminding us of the poolside bar they hit on the top of a hotel on the Barcelona beach.

The Delta flight consisted of watching Interstellar while eating beef airline food and drinking a Heinie, then sleeping on/off for 2 ½ hrs., then waking up for a frozen bagel/yogurt while watching Louis CK’s “Oh My G-d”.

Wednesday, May 20^th – Saturday May 22^nd: Reflections on Barcelona

Upon arrival into BCN we were greeted by Ramon, a Spanish version of Grandpa Marty who took us in a very cool Mercedes with blue pinstripe interior lighting to our Marriott AC Irla Hotel in the Eixample district, a residential area about 20 min (tops) from the action, which gave us a chance to see how the locals lived. Felt like Upper East Side (60s-70s) between Mad and 1^st.

Then we got a call from our guide Patrick’s wife Monica, who informed Carol that; she would provide the tour not him, and she could meet us an hour earlier if we wanted, which we were fine with as we were in a dream-like state after 2 hours of sleep and didn’t know how much we had left in the tank.

So with about 45 minutes to refuel we walked 3 blocks down Calvert to “Crepes Barcelona” where Carol had Spinach/Mushroom/Brie, I had Mushroom/Brie, and 2 Café Americans which were delish.

Then Monica picked us up with Ramon, 4 months after having her kid, born in Barcelona, college educated, had lived 4 yrs. In England then came back home, the first of the passionate Catalonians we’d engage.

We started in the heart of town viewing Gaudi’s Casa Mila, then the “Block of Discord” across the street. 3 buildings which defined the Moderniste era of the late 1800s that made Barcelona famous which included one Gaudi “Casa Batllo” – a great mixture of the incredible Mr. Whipple done in ceramic tile - and two other buildings  “Casa Amatller” and “Casa Lleo Morera” containing Arabic ceramics with classic Roman sensibility. It was our first glimpse at Gaudi’s unique organic individualism, as well as Middle Eastern influence as part of the local visual environment.

Then we hit the Ramblas, BCN’s version of NYC’s old pre-Disney 42nd St. Probably 34^th street is most similar now. Running downhill from the Mountain to the sea from Northwest to Southeast with wavy cement alluding to the stream that preceded it, it cuts down the heart of the city in the midst of the Gothic (spelled “Gotic”) zone which was the old Roman city, separating the hipster El Born district to the North from the “dodgy” (how it’s consistently described) Raval area to the south. Why does the South always seem to be the poorest area regardless of municipality? Monica took us to an old Jewish synagogue, to the home where Juan Miro grew up, for a coffee, then to the Gaudi masterpiece Sagrada Familia.

60% complete, while it’s a church, seems to me it’s the first theme park ever conceptualized – I wouldn’t be surprised if Walt visited the joint after banging out Snow White, Cinderella, etc. spurring the thought of Disneyland (if I ever had a theme park I’d lean towards Fertigville or Fertigplace, not Fertigland, sounds large and pretentious).

Gaudi’s strategy was to make it;

-          Inviting: via a 550 ft. designed tower that will be able to be seen from throughout the city when it’s complete – supposedly in 2020, 100 years after his death

-          Approachable: including brightly colored fruit that almost seem cartoon like on the current towers, and once inside the sanctuary echoes of forest, reminding us that Nature is a primal way this spirituality manifests itself in our daily life (like you see when light streams through a cloud, whether in real life or via a Sympathy card). He’s got the light streaming through the stained glass – awesome is the appropriate description, he figured out how to work with the properties of cement so it can be relatively airy and light in the buttresses and not as heavy and closed as it is in Notre Dame in Paris for instance so the space seems even more vast. The trunks of those buttresses feel like cement sequoias – wonder if Gaudi knew of John Muir? And the sculpture of Jesus seems to be levitating up to heaven – very powerful imagery.

As Carol hit the head on the way out, I complimented Monica on her passion, figuring that she does this drill 5 days a week. I shared that I used to teach and that repeating the same content over and over with feeling is no easy feat. She told me that her father who died when she was young used to take her here as a child, and that she’s Christian, so she feels very strongly about this place. I hear that. Reminds me about how I feel about going to Schul.

Then based on our appreciation for architecture she asked us if we’d prefer a detailed tour of Mounjuic, or a drive by preceded by a tour of a recently reopened architectural marvel that used to be a visionary hospital. We opted for her preference and checked out Sau Pau Hospital. Built in the early 1900s, it was meant as a state of the art facility for the poor and indigent who couldn’t afford great care with 48 separate buildings planned - each one to treat different illnesses and attached by underground passageways.  Each building was roofed by uniquely designed ceramic tiles, which coordinated with matching interior ceramic tiles, paint and ironwork – gorgeous all.

By the time we completed the review of the hospital it was 4:45, so no time for Mountjuic – and that was with starting an hour earlier!

Monica was a great guide, enthusiastic, knowledgeable, setting high expectations and not meeting them all, but because of her noble goal, there’s no way we could hold it against her, in fact it seemed like it was part of her tour –setting lofty goals and not meeting them, just like it seems to be inherent in Spain’s culture as it’s true of Cervantes’ Don Quixote, and Gaudi as well.

They each had great goals, and in each case their eyes were bigger than their stomachs. Certainly in the case of Don Quixote who was aspirationally delusional tilting at windmills (the originals, not the farms of steel ones we saw training South on the plain towards Sevilla), as well as with Gaudi who’s signature work is being raced to be completed a century after his death, as denoted by the drilling going on while we were there – I thought I was at my dentist.

Then it was time for our first Siesta. I gave us a 50/50 shot at waking for dinner and we did!

Sauntering down Diagonal Ave. in the neighborhood for drink outside at Dry Martini – which is what I had with Carol’s Chard, then dinner at Paco Mecante, Monica’s reference, where Carol actually saw a “ham hock” being served – the hip and leg of a ham – hoof and all! We had the first Tomato on Bread - a Catalan specialty - followed by a variety of sausages for guess who, and an eggplant dish for Carol. We slept well that night ;)

Thursday started with me going to Starbucks because we didn’t have Wi-Fi in the hotel, a real inconvenience we were dealing with till Seville. It took me 30 minutes to figure out how to get online and required the help of a Barista – always fun when you have to use a combination of zeros and capital O’s in logins and passwords – you can’t make this stuff up. Then I quelled my OCD tendencies by actioning all my Yahoo/Gmail emails as well – including Spam and Trash. Ahhh the little things!

Then we bought a 10 pass bus ticket (which worked for 6 of them) and took the 14 bus to Ramblas to meet Joel our chef. Getting on the bus I was reminded of Wayne NJ when the spitting image of Len Blaifeder arrived after us at the bus stop. When he cut the line and went on in front of us I asked him for his ID (kidding).

We got there early – another beautiful day weather wise – and tried to find a money exchange - to no avail. We were told to look for a guy in a Chef’s outfit at the entrance to Boqueria Market, and at 9:50 a young man named Alberto comes up to us in a bicycle T-Shirt asks if we’re here for the food tour, saying that Joel sent him to provide the tour and that after we go tour/go shopping in at the market we’d go to his place to cook and eat on his terrace. Carol and I took this to mean that he had stabbed Joel to death and would do the same to us after a tour of the market while at his abode. We’d got no notification from Joel – or Chris @ Amex who’d scheduled all our tours, and Bicycle Boy wasn’t in uniform. We asked to speak to Joel, which we did, but we assumed this was Alberto’s henchman – like we’d know if it was Joel…this went back and forth for a few minutes when in passing Alberto said he was going to prepare vegetarian for Carol and Seafood/Hamon (aka ham) for Howard, which is what Joel instructed. Bingo! If he would have started out there – and been named Joel and been dressed as a chef – this could have started off a lot smoother.

So he walks us through Boqueria – spending a lot of time discussing the merits of fresh and organic food – pointing out the multitude of types of fish (squid, octopus, eel, salmon, monkfish, prawns, crabs, shrimp) stating that the only type he’d never eat is tuna from a can – which is the only type I’ve ever been fed – and Carol’s with me listening to this amidst it all – street justice!

Then Al walks us to the back of the market past the tourists to the locals, and describes the same for pigs and fruit – in that order – waving, smiling, saying hello by name to all the merchants. Then he takes us to his neighborhood – El Born aka Williamsburg – where we get a café, croissant and go to his market – the Santa Caterina Market - to pick up the fruit and vegetables from his merchants, including an Olive Oil tasting and purchase, and we pass by a great old-school Hat store, where I attempt to procure a Panama and fail, and fall in love with W.A.U. shoes next door to his and Ella’s (his Aussie girlfriend who’s never heard of Outback) flat.

We walk up what seems like 5 ½ but what is actually 3 floors to their apartment which is gorgeous in the way a large studio 100 yr. old walk up with access to your own terrace is, and spend a couple of hours with him preparing our grub;

-          For Carol, eggplant sliced like chips using the pasta maker she just got at home (glad we came 4,000 miles to road test it) in a cup of parmigiana over fava bean pesto with hazelnuts

-          For moi a great piece of salmon with that pesto, plus wonderful cheeses and great ham and an unbelievable chorizo “Fuet” over glasses of white wine

While shelling fav beans and hazel nuts we hear about his various food businesses including his new company “Bear and Bike”. It’s his experience that good names for companies have absolutely nothing to do with describing what they are (?!), then Ella comes home – not what Carol pictures who Alberto would be with – Nicole Kidman to his young Al Pacino – an English lit major wondering why it’s so hard for young entrepreneurs to make it in Spain – perfect!

Then we sit out on their sun drenched terrace overlooking an old church watching the clock while we have 25 minutes starting at 3:05 to eat what we’ve been buying and prepping since 10 AM (so much for the vacation head). Wonderfully feels like Europe to me! Then Al escorts us to the Picasso Museum for our 3:30 tickets (15 minute window to arrive) which includes a temporary exhibit comparing Picasso to Dali, then the permanent exhibit of Picasso where the best part to me and C was his formative years age 14 – 18 where he was a prodigy. Without this start to his career I wonder whether the Art World would think as much of him, if he didn’t have the chops to back up his later work. It was the kind of show that if we didn’t go we’d have a nagging feeling, but having gone it was just Meh.

Then we took the 14 bus back to the hotel and schluf’d for a couple of hours before we walked the neighborhood again and ended up at Velodrome for dinner outside. Marketing themselves as being open 24x7x365 and offering dinner and breakfast, it’s as close to a diner in Spain as we could ever expect. I had a sampling of beef and mussels that were to die for, Carol had some eggplant and vegetables and we both had a couple of Chards and Moritz’s – the local big brand brew, followed by a stroll home and sound sleep.

Friday started by taking our old friend the 14 down to an earlier stop on the Ramblas and walked down a side street to the Church, stopping by a ceramic of Lennon (not Lenin) that I posed under, and met Jario our electric bike guide for a tour to fill in the blanks on Barcelona.

Jario (pronounced Hario) was a Barcelona hipster, in streamlined Panama and Cervantes-like pointed beard and biking while holding his little Espresso-to-go in one hand. He traveled for love to Mexico ½ a lifetime ago (he’s 36, you do the math), realized there that for a Mexican girl to travel alone she had to come from money, and that that culture was foreign and shallow to him (judgy?) so he traveled down to Latin America, then Cuba, where he heard Fidel Castro speak and studied Documentary Film making. Then 3 ½ yrs. ago he returned home to BCN to start his business and here we are. His niche is electric bikes, which give you a little push whenever you need it – like climbing Montjuic – really cool. I give it an 18 month – 3 year window until they’re the norm.

So he starts by asking what we’d like and we tell him. “Can we see the Barceloneta as well as Moutjuic?” “Of course” he says, but we also have to see this one Gaudi house and we say Deal.

He starts in El Born and we get to see the terrain we visited with Alberto 24 hrs. ago, passing his market, those narrow side streets, that great WAU shoe place, to where the Catalan rebels were buried around the corner from where Alberto lived…

Turns out the Catalan region of Spain wants to secede from Spain the same way Quebecois want to leave Canada. Here is where they were buried when they fought against Spain in the 1700s with the British and were defeated by the French – and British - who double crossed them. We feel guilty following Jario on bike over the memorial/mass grave that’s been there for 300 years…

Seems Catalan was founded by the Romans who conquered them before they were a “people”. They lived within the walls of the Roman city, then Spain conquered them in a blood bath and it’s been Barcelona vs. Real Madrid (Capital of Spain) ever since.

Jario is fiercely Catalan I realize as we follow him biking over his dead ancestors. He takes us to the Born Cultural Center (BCC), where he tells us that while the region was prepping for their Word Exhibition in 1929 and built this then state of the art structure of ironwork and glass, they happened upon their ancestors while digging the foundation, and decided to show it all. Seems like the whole current city, with construction starting in the 1800s is literally built upon its forefathers.

Then we head down to the water - Barceloneta, whose beach was literally built for the 92 Olympics, and Carol and I waded in the Mediterranean Sea – me for the very first time! We pass by where the sailors used to live, small cramped apartments by the beach, while the rich were up in the mountains – different than what we’re used to. We pass by huge ass yachts, boat loads of them (sorry) and then past a sculpture that marks where Columbus launched his 3^rd of 4 voyages to the new world - sends chills down my spine. Then Jario tells us how in Spain the Spanish, or the Catalans at least, are embarrassed by Columbus, feeling he went halfway around the world to rob others like a pirate, and then bring that bounty home. Seems that every October 12^th is Columbus Day in Spain, but Catalans would rather just acknowledge it, not celebrate it – keep it on the down low. King/Queen Ferdinand and Isabella funded Columbus and started the Spanish Inquisition as well which annihilated the Jews and Muslims in Spain during their tenure. See, we do have something in common.

Then we head to Montjuic, up the mountain – a breeze - with a breeze, on these electric bikes. Past the Miro museum – which we don’t have time for this trip, we keep hitting switchbacks, and I hit my head/body on various types of Fauna (aloe, shrubs). On the way up Carol suggests how Jario can expand his business, teen tours, Rick Steve’s… we stop to look down at the magic fountain, and old bullfighting ring (now banned in BCN for the last 3 years). Then we head further up to the Olympic Stadium. It’s where the torch was lit by a bow and arrow during opening ceremonies. We get to see the torch and a stature commemorating the archer who kicked it off.

Then we head down and it turns out the 3 hour tour that was supposed to end at 1 is now going on 1:45 and it’s either Gaudi’s Casa Batilo, or lunch, and lunch it is. Jario makes a resi for us at Bar Del Pla, a place Carol wanted us to go to for dinner the previous night that was mentioned highly in Rick Steve’s. We return the bikes – passing an Ad on a phone booth (remember those) entitled “Alicia Florrick” with a pic of Julianne Marguiles “The Good Wife”, hug Jario and promise to share his info; with Rick Steve’s and American Trails West and Rein Teen Tours, and give a high recommendation on both Trip Advisor and Yelp.

Then Bar Del Pla does not disappoint – wonderful Tuna Tartar, Wasabi with mushrooms, salad, coupled with Chard and Moritz.

Next onto Park Guell, Gaudi’s true Disneyland via the metro L4 to Lessers where we hop onto the L3. If we’d seen it first, or at least before the Signorella Familia, and without going full tilt (for us at least) it would have been more than a box check, but it wasn’t. Like the Picasso Museum it made the Meh list.

So we take the 27 back, nap for an hour, then go to services at the Sephardic Synagogue 10 blocks away. It was like being at Stuie Balavram’s kids Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, only instead of Forest Lakers it was a bunch of Spaniards and Carol was in the balcony, not on the other side of the same level. It started with barely a minyan and grew to 50 guys by the end with everyone in full throat. Highlights were Lecha Dodi and the Rabbi wailing like it was Hineni at one point, slow and somber, not overly dramatic – he was really feeling it, making it worthwhile to follow along. The crowd was young, old, and middling, with the Rabbi on the Bemah in the center, members coming in and shaking his hand, perhaps sitting next to him for a moment or two, he was Marlon Brando as The Godfather for these guys. One guy looked like Paul Beck to Carol, most of the guys my age or younger looked like they just got off the LIRR from the Garment District.

Then we left at 8:30 before Kiddush to get to dinner in the Example at Restaurant Palerma, which was also great. We started with Catalan Tomato Bread then Carol had roasted veggies and a salad while I dined on shrimp/crab cannelloni. Then it was our final stroll home feeling like we left no primary stone was unturned.

On Saturday we woke at 6:30, packed, went down to the “gym” 2 stationary bikes, 1 elliptical, shiny metal free weights from 5 – 50 lbs. but no room or chairs to work out with, no place to stretch. Then went to Starbucks – good news - doors were open at 7:30, bad news the barista sans uniform informed us they wouldn’t be open for 15 minutes, so we hit a cash machine and got rolls and croissants at a nearby bakery.

Then we hit Starbucks for coffee and both Carol on her phone and me on my laptop were able to get online! And I couldn’t log into Oracle Outlook! That’s it, I’m officially off the grid! I’m unemployed for a week! Hurrah!

And through Yahoo and Gmail I received some very nice sendoffs from peers, clients, and partners, though none from my upper management – aside from the previous kind words and actions from my boss Lloyd. Could be they don’t want to put it in writing, could be they’re focused on end of year/Q4, could be they’re pissed I left, didn’t reach out directly prior, we’ll see. Won’t kill me either way.

Then it was back to the hotel to catch a 10 minute taxi ride to the Saud Terminal for a 5 hr. Ave Train to Sevilla.

Which was awesome! We took the AVE train, their version of the Acela, only nicer. Reclining leather seats – probably Corinthian leather – which reminds me of the Ricardo Montalban car commercials when he talked about Corinthian leather…we’re passing Cordoba and all these other towns that sound like the name of fine leather in cars… also had wood lacquer trim, outlets for phones and computers, very classy ride!

The city turned to rolling hills with trees and then bushes that decreased in size, then eventually flat plains, and every now and then a small city or village, slung low to the ground, with a church rising above all else, as if to confirm who ran things when they locations were built.

Also, Don Quixote’s windmills have been replaced by hi-tech windmill farms, the most I’ve ever seen in a row, huge and vast. More about La Mancha’s favorite son’s creator later.

Saturday, May 22nd – Monday May 24th: Reflections on Seville (aka Sevilla)

The train station there was relatively modern, open, and airy with a temperature of 32C (double it and add 30 to get to 94F) that felt like the low 80s due to very low humidity.

Our Marriott AC Seville Hotel was a 13 minute taxi ride south of the city. Another Marriott in a residential neighborhood. This one felt like Jamaica Estates, situated behind what reminded me of typical Queens brick apartment buildings.

We had been stepped up to a studio on the 3^rd/top floor next to the “fitness center” which consisted of 1 bike, 1 treadmill, and some free weights, and a swim lane pool outside on the deck.

Another quick turnaround with 45 minutes before we were met by Marta – who actually turned out to be her business partner Mercedes (our 3^rd switch out of 4 tours to date) which we didn’t find out until the last 30 minutes of the tour.

We started touring the 1929 Exhibition “Pavilions” which were refurbished for the 1992 Exhibition (which coincided with the Olympics in Barcelona that year) which were now used for the University or as Government buildings. Not much industry to speak of here, the main sources of revenue being Tourism and Preparing for the “Festivals” primarily Holy Week.

Seems that Seville was red hot from 1450 – 1600 when it was the main port of the country, Columbus and Vespucci cracked open the import business, and all hell broke loose. They built the Seville Cathedral, 3^rd largest church building / largest cathedral in the world. Ferdinand and Isabella also became so full of themselves that they kicked out all Jews and Muslims over time – everyone was getting along and respecting themselves prior –and decreed that only Catholics could live in Spain, which lasted till the late 1800s.

Seville seems to be doing its best to stay frozen in that time. Mercedes has lived there her whole life, says that there is no large industry or company HQ and that most people are either in tourism, or work on the festivals that revolve around Catholicism. Kinda like Nawlins in that the states, only instead of Mardi Gras, it’s Holy Week, a weeklong festival where the 70 different churches in town aka Brotherhoods – carry 2 ton floats – 20-50 men in each church to and from the main church in town. There’s also a day when patrons represent the sinners and don KKK hoods – only they’ve been doing it for 500 years and theirs come in all colors – not just white.

Also like Nawlins is the way different old narrow streets are known for different things, in this case its either Flamenco style clothing/shoes on one street, Holy Week fabric, tiaras, and fans on another, and Men’s clothes, on a third. Guess this was how it was done prior to department stores where each floor has “departments” instead of streets, and everyone had a little somethin, somethin, before the big box stores tried to take over the world, until technology untethered us from brick and mortar operating expenses, and now entrepreneurs are back on “virtual” streets...

Highlights of Mercedes’ Seville tour included;

-          A statue of Cervantes outside a bank which 400 years ago was the prison he was in for 5 years where he wrote Don Quixote

-          Alcazar the Spanish King’s castle which was built in the 1200s when the king at that time really appreciated all religions and nationalities and he reflected it by combining both Arabic aka Moorish and Roman elements in his abode

-          The Jewish quarter, where before they were kicked out they were the doctors, lawyers, and advisors to royalty. There’s even still a street named Levi

Last stop was our first Tapas Bar where Carol had white wine and a vegetable dish, and I had the local beer Campos something or other and (wait for it) Hamon.  Then we walked around a lot and made it to the center square where the locals hang, and had 3 rounds of small beers with 3 locals – Sebastian, a girl named Pico - who were a couple, and Sebastian’s sister who looked like Edie Falco.  Felt like we were with the whole town at an outside bar on a Saturday night, trying to have a conversation with these 3 which turned into a game of charades, until Pico took out her phone and opened the translation app – where I typed, and she had it translated and understood what I said, which is probably as close as I’ll ever get to feeling like Stephen Hawking for a number of reasons.

There were also one of a number of large posters focused on the national and regional Elections which were held the next day, on a Sunday – to increase voter turnout, and they candidate most featured looked a lot like Al Kreitner in a suit.

Then we went back to our hotel and had a nightcap outside. The weather was delicious – sitting out in a tee and shorts, there was no chill, no humidity, no bugs, didn’t feel warm – was perfect, which I assume to be 72 degrees. Just sat out with a Chard and Cerveza looking at the palm trees and other foliage that we couldn’t recognize.

Speaking on not recognizing, during the course of the trip (I’m writing this tidbit while on the Delta 767 flying to JFK) I spied 4 dogs that were hybrids that looked nothing like any dogs I’ve ever seen stateside. It was a mellower version of that scene in the first Star Wars (I can’t say Star Wars 1), when Hans Solo walks into the bar and we see creatures that we’ve never imaged before getting buzzed. I’m not enough of a dog aficionado to tell you what breeds are mixed they were but it was almost like seeing the head of a German shepherd on a Chihuahua, or the face of a pug on a poodle, there was definitely one that had a rat tale, this I know for sure.

On Sunday morning we got up and were actually able to stretch in our Junior Suite.

We chilled. Period. Had a great buffet breakfast, then went to the pool where I meditated, took a dip, and finally cracked open Don Quixote, inspired by the previous day’s Cervantes bust, and Carol finished her Scott Simon book –a tear jerker. At one point I hit the gym to do some stretching and a suave new arrival scoping out the placed saw me sprawled out on the ground and asked if I was all right in Spanish. I didn’t look at him or understand him at first so he had to ask a couple of times. I think I freaked him out for a sec.

After enjoying doing nothing in a new place (so we didn’t feel guilty) and truly being between gigs while getting paid, it truly started to feel like vacation!

We went back into Sevilla all gussied up to attack the town on our own. Climbed the Giralda Tower – highest point around – went to a rooftop bar across the street in the fashionable boutique hotel – EME – where I had a Cohiba and the most refreshing Bombay and Tonic ever with Carol and her Chard while we chatted up a bunch of Tar Heels who were studying Spanish for the summer there. They agreed that no one has it better than them. Then it was down to Margaritas Tapas Bar while listening to a large woman sing Stevie’s “I Just Called to Say I Love You” for a Euro, followed by Flamenco Dancing which was awesome. Pretty much what you’d expect, only in more detail and with a helluva lot of passion by the;

-          Guitarist (who looked like Hanif Ismail, the Oracle Client Advisor for Verizon) – very precise, the rhythm ebbing and flowing in 3/3 time

-          Singer who sounded as if he was davening the whole time, No tight, crisp melody lines. Unusual, no doubt an Arabic influence

-          Male & Female Dancers: like what I’d imagine tarantella dancers to be like as well, rough sex standing up with a lot of stamping, spinning, twirling, clapping, and smacking themselves – not each other – on different body parts to the beat

It was riveting. The only things that kept me from thinking I was transported back in time were; the tourists who used flash photography – though the announcer forbade it, and Carol and an Asian man when they nodded out

Prior to the show while outside on line we briefly met a dazzling urbanite couple from NYC, then another were sitting in front of us. Married for a year, she was a digital marketer originally from Main Line in PA, he a financial analyst originally from Brazil. They were taking a 3 week vacation traveling throughout Spain.

After the show it seemed to be just finishing raining and we ducked into the back room of another tapas joint - Bar Estrella, for dessert (Café con leche and chocolate cake) where we befriended another American couple who had been married for a year – Marty Karanek 68, and Amy Fruchtenwald 58, from Mad City where he is a Professor of Environmental Science (yes he think our kids later in life as well as our grandkids are going to be fucked by what we’ve done to the environment) and she is a Professor working with Graduate and Doctorate students – to ensure they’d be able to find a job when they get out of school. They too were Jewish, she with 2 kids including a Jake from a previous marriage, Marty with 3. Obsessed Badger fans for hoops and football – they went to the TCU loss at the Rose Bowl. They also went to Paris when we did in the heat 2 summers ago. They also have no clue why college is so expensive and testified that it certainly isn’t the faculty who’s making out. We spoke for over 30 minutes after we were done eating, and then bumped into them as we were trying to find a cab and they were walking back to their hotel – The Hotel Alfonso – a $500 - $2000 a night place that Amy’s dad had taken their family to 40 years ago on a summer trip throughout Spain (and on another summer through England) which she still remembers and celebrates today. Took over 30 minutes to get a cab, we were told because it was a Sunday night as well as Elections.

Then Monday morning we packed, had the buffet, took a taxi north to the bus station, bought tickets for a day trip to Toledo for Tuesday, and Trained it to Madrid – no Ave, something less expensive – which showed “Liberal Arts” a movie that featured Josh Radnor* (Ted from How I Met Yo Mama) as well as Allison Janney, Richard Jenkins, Miles Teller, and the Brunette waitress who was so sullen in Mad Men this last season.

 

Monday, May 24^th – Wednesday May 26th: Reflections on Madrid/Toledo

Upon arrival to Spain’s capital we took a people mover ramp instead of an escalator to leave the rail yard – nice touch! Then leaving the Madrid train station for a taxi there were two 12 foot baby heads. Ok, we’re still not in KC. Short taxi ride to our hotel AC Riberto – Autograph collection, which was the best of the lot in every way – quality, room, location, and service!  Located across the street from Park Madrid, we felt as if we were on 5^th Avenue in the 70s – 80s, across the street from Central Park. 

Again we only had 45 minutes before our tour, so we went around the corner and had a 49 Euro lunch which consisted of 2 slices of Tomato, Asparagus on steroids, and 5 ½ artichokes for Carol and fried eggs with Hamon over fries (?!) for moi.

After a quick dash upstairs to change my undies, we met our guide Iris, a Madrid native, in the lobby. We walked down Alphonso XII to the Prado which took only 5 minutes while she gave us the basics; nation’s capital, 4.5 mil. inhabitants, across from the Prado is a church where royalty gets hitched, the extension to the museum was met with controversy as the style is modern and doesn’t fit with the traditional architecture around it...

Then the Prado was pretty much what we expected, which was a good thing. Iris did a fine job - we didn’t go chronologically but rather did a greatest hits. Lots of Velasquez, Goya, and El Greco, with some tasty side treats – most notably a;

-          Second Mona Lisa – the only difference is that you can get within 5 feet of it, no glass case, not 1,000 small tourists with cameras blocking your view. They should provide a side to side treadmill so you can watch her eyes follow you wherever you are. If it didn’t have that optical illusion would it be so famous? And how come this second one doesn’t get more hype?

-          Rembrandt portrait of his wife where here necklace literally popped off her blouse – unbelievable piece of painting, as great an art riff as Clifford Brown’s trumpet solo on Joys Spring

-          Paintings by Albrecht Durer. One of my Top 10, I’d only seen his drawings prior. Handsome devil in an Owen Wilson way…

-          Juaqin Sorolla painting “Bathers”. Where has this guy been? Timeframe and style parallels the Impressionists – only he’s better. Really. Motivated us to check him his museum, which was his home and studio, Uptown in Madrid.

After the Prado we cabbed/toured around the city, going around Puerta del Sol where the local’s celebrate a Real Madrid win, Park with sculptures of Cervantes, Don Quixote, and Sancho Panzo.   

Then we got out of the taxi and walked around the Royal Palace to Plaza Mayor, an old public square that was used for announcements, hangings, and public celebrations during the Inquisition, and in it were many stores. We stopped in “La Torre del Oro Bar Andalu” a small bar that was a tribute to bullfighting. It had a number of mounted Toros heads, was lined with Black & White pics of the fights – matadors, celebs watching the fights (Che Guevera), bulls goring matadors, and at the time we were there the Opening Ceremonies of the day’s Bullfights starting on TV. The day’s 6 Matadors (6 fightsd, 20 minutes each – 2 hr. event) all entered the ring as if on parade, then stood in front of the judges. The next day at a bar we saw that 2 of the matadors had been gored and were in the hospital.

Then we went across the street to “Mercado de San Miguel” like the Redding mart in Philly, where we munched on a variety of things; a bouquet of Fuet, some croquets (mushroom, spinach, ham and cheese), some red and white wine, then vegetable Paella for Carol and squid infused Black Paella for me. I had a local Cerveza (Mahon) as well. A gorgeous black model stopped and asked what we had. She’s gluten free and 32, not married and no kids. I didn’t feel bad for her. Iris shared that the previous day at this market one of her clients got pick pocketed so I spent the rest of the afternoon with my hands in my pants (insert joke here) and accepted the fanny pack trade off under my t shirt for the rest of the afternoon.

Then Iris – who was terrific, took her leave, and Carol and I started to walk cross town east, back to our hotel. I had a little trouble finding it so we stopped at a little bar on the street for a Chard, beer, and chips, then started up again, until we got into a very funky neighborhood where my Spidey sense started tingling so we cabbed it back to the hotel, caught up online, and rested for Toledo (pronounced To-LAY-do).

The morning started with breakfast where we first chatted up a couple from Seattle whose husband works for a software company that provides airline reservation services – and gave us the tip that all airlines update their day’s inventory between 6-7 AM their local time – that’s when you find those $50 tickets, then an older couple from around Stanford in Cali, whose husband suggested that we might have a better time in Toledo than they did the day before on their tour.

One of the pleasures of this day trip was spending time in the Madrid train station. Filled with 30+ foot plants and Palm Trees as well as plenty of other fauna, within a Metal, Glass, and Brick structure that could have been inspiration for all our great retro baseball parks, we got there early to wander around a bit before getting on another great Ave train for a 30 minute dash to El Greco’s turf.

Once in Toledo we got on the Hop On/Off that Rick Steve’s recommended. However its delay in departing, coupled with a slow saunter into town, while informative and providing a great view, caused the only dissonance on the trip as it unexpectedly put us on the clock and it took us a little while to adjust to that.

Long story short off the bus we were greeted by kitschy life size wooden versions of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza (which signified the end of my Quixotic experience), then we ended up hitting the;

-          El Greco Museum and running into our friends from Madison Marty and Amy, as well as another great portrait by Sorolla of the main benefactor of the museum (which confirmed we’d visit the Sorolla Museum the next day)

-          Sephardic Museum where the artifacts appeared to include a Shofar, Tallis, and other artifacts that were (incomprehensibly to me) identified as being from the year XX - the year 20. They were in such great shape that I found that incredibly hard to believe. I’ll check with Aff and the Rabbi, and any other potential Jewish history maven I can find to try to get to the bottom of that

Then we got some Marzipan (this is supposedly where it originates from – just like potato chip sandwiches being from my mom’s kitchen in Hollis), checked Carol’s box for Pizza at Pizzeria Pastucci, then hit the Catherdral’s “Transparente” which according to Ric Steve’s I actually thought was a hole in the church ceiling, but in reality was a window at the top that sends a stream of light down to the alter, and the “Sacrisity” for another version of El Greco’s Apostles. We closed with Café con Leche and consumed our Marzipan.

On the ride back which was not an Ave, we ended up sitting face to face with Tony and Carmen, both of Cuban descent living in Coral Gables Florida. They shared with us their town’s landmark status, and as I know it’s near the “U” (of Miami), I referenced the Hurricanes and it turns out Tony is a season ticket holder for football – and had a high school internship for the Fish holding the headset cables for the running back coach on game day the first year Jimmy Johnson was there, when Marino was still QB. He was even aware of the Chris Olsen clusterfuck, i.e., being kicked off the team for being DWI. We (Carol) gave them great suggestions for their upcoming trip to Barcelona (Barcelona Bikes, Alberto) and the half hour went by in a flash.

Back at the hotel room with a few hours to spare before dinner, Carol napped and I transferred pics from her and my phone to my laptop as I’m having storage issues with my iPhone 6. Never used to have this problem with my 4, but probably due to; having to move off the Oracle plan and onto the residential plan within a day, having to be connected to my iCloud so I don’t have to store it on my desktop, and preferring to not pay additional monthly expense if I can help it, they’re shutting me off.

Then we walked a few blocks north to a wonderful romantic dinner at the Plaza de la Independencia starting with another refreshing Bombay and Tonic with ice over lime - it’s definitely my drink this summer – followed by walking next door to Ramses which turns out to be where all the beautiful people hang. We fit right in with my Gap shorts and Carol’s jeans, especially when we went inside past the bar to the lavatory. Then we had dessert across the street outside where the TV crews were waiting for and then interviewed Real Madrid’s ex-Manager Carlo Ancelotti who was fired that day and is one of only 2 to have won the European Cup 3x.  Then we walked past the Puerta De Alcala and back to the AC Riberto.

Wednesday, our last full day in Spain started with a 3ish mile run around all of Retiro Park. Very lush, it was full of other runners of all shapes and sizes as well as dog walkers and their previously referenced mutant pets, a wonderful manageable park.

After breakfast we headed to the Reina Sophia, mainly to see Picasso’s “Guernica” but we also saw classes upon classes of school kids on a museum trip, in retrospect that was a wonderful flashback to where I’ve come from in addition to the great art. Another highlight there was seeing a life-sized Picasso sculpture “Woman with Vase” which reminded us of my fav dirty joke of all time.  We also got to see some Miros, other great contemporary artists, and a Picasso Bull sculpture outside in the garden.

Then we cabbed it to the shopping district, which reminded us of the west village, and seemed to be the LGBT part of town. Carol didn’t pull the trigger on a bag or blouses and we had our best lunch of the trip at San Anton. We shared a green gazpacho that was great, the metrosexual in me loved a wonderful Spinach Salad with Salmon and Yogurt dressing, and Carol had something healthy too. In fact, Carol was a vegetarian for this entire trip and she loved her food – so proud of her – you go girl!

Then we walked while fading, to the Sorolla Museum - which is in his house and studio. Seeing his art – was the great find of the trip. I hadn’t heard of him before and it turns out he’s the best impressionist of all time. Comes across as an inspiration of Wayne Theibaud. He also seems like a bourgeois who did it right. Had the whole package. Lived to 80 at the turn of the 19^th century, with a beautiful wife and 3 kids, gorgeous large 2 story townhouse in the middle of the city that was his studio as well, who could ask for anything more?

Then we taxied back to the hotel and faded into the bed for an hour before going down to the hotel hot tub and that really loosened up all the joints!

When we got back to the room we packed, then had our last dinner at El Senador, which is directly across from the Spanish Senate, much to the surprise of both our taxi driver and the Guard standing at the entrance to the senate who thought for a sec that we were trying to get in.

We met Marty and Amy who had just gotten into town for a classic Spanish dinner where a waiter who looked like Ian Eagle (Nets Telecaster) teased Carol in Spanish about trying Hamon, and Marty and I shared a plate of Iberian sausage that was to die for.

Thursday AM was breakfast at the hotel, taxi to the airport, picked up some Olive Oil for the boys and Em, local Vino Blanco for Carol, and some Cohibas.

I tried watching Foxcatcher on the plane but couldn’t get through it – too slow and depressing.

We landed at JFK, taxied to the Schaffers, tried treating them to dinner to thank them for letting us park in their driveway and save $300 on parking but no success.

The trip was so wonderful that that only regret I had was not finding a barber in Seville, ideally one named Figaro, and getting a haircut. In fact, if I ever did Howie’s Haircuts I’d love to spend a summer or a year and open up a shop as the Barber of Seville, and change my name to Figaro ;)

This trip was great, will play even better in reruns, and was a great opportunity to get used to enjoying life. I do a fairly good job of appreciating it, but with all the process/procedure work of Oracle I didn’t get to enjoy it as fully as I did on this trip and plan on for the rest of my life. The trip was a great opportunity to continue getting used to doing that!

Upon Jake's Graduation from College

About 7 years ago, I’m picking Jake (my youngest son) up from Wayne Hills High, he was a freshman at the time, and at the stop light at Valley and Berdan he asks, “Dad, what would you think if when I grow up if I become a sanitation worker? A garbage man? I see the stress you and mom feel from work sometimes and how grumpy you can get...I’d live within my means, and I wouldn’t have to feel that pressure.”

Three things went through my mind, pretty much simultaneously;
1- F&*k, now I’ll never get this kid off the payroll…
2- You know, he might have a point here…
3- (This is what I said to him) “Well, we do need sanitation men. There are a lot of cogs in the wheel that make the world go round. But one thing you may want to think about is 50 years from now, when you’re retiring and looking back at your career – because as far as we know we only have one shot at this – are you going to feel fulfilled? Like you did your life’s work?”

About the same time, I’m working at home and I hear this banging sound. I come upstairs and he’s fiddling around with Carol’s iMac, laying down some drum tracks on Garage Band. A few days later I hear some shouting and this time he’s Rapping into the program, creating what would later be known as his "Big Dog and The Family Band" CD.

Then in his sophomore year he takes TV Production as an elective. First he’s learning how to use the equipment, then he and his fellow Mooks (they would later refer to themselves as Howeds) create a sports talk show we see aired on the local Public Access channel. This evolves into his creating films around school that would later become the Reel he submitted to apply to (and be accepted by) NYU Tisch.

We also gave him some guitar lessons, and he started writing and recording songs on Garage Band. One day he comes home and tells us he’s been asked to play at an event in town, "The Pantry Party" - all he needed was a band. So he enlisted a few guys he saw perform previously and they became Marguerito - as well as some of his dearest friends. Perhaps you’ve seen them perform in town or in NYC?

So now fast forward to today, and imagine you’re a parent, and this kid - your kid, is graduating college. This week. He’s about to pursue a career that he’s genuinely excited about, with great grades and feedback on his work, from a school that has a history of producing industry professionals. He’s developed a network of like minded colleagues who also have become dear friends, and are similarly skilled and enjoy each others company. And perhaps most importantly, he’s not only learned much of what he needs to know, but he’s also continued to learn how to learn – to teach himself on an ongoing basis.

And on top of that, he’s filled with love, intelligence, humor, and seems to savor the little things in life as well. What more could a parent ask of their child*?

Of course this doesn’t happen in a vacuum, but rather in a community. There are so many friends and family (no not their phone plan) who have fed and/or sheltered him at their homes, apartments, restaurants and bungalows, so many of you who continue to nourish him emotionally, through your ongoing support and interest in his work. From the bottom of our hearts, Carol (who wrote and vetted this), Spence, and I would like to thank you for all you’ve done, and continue to do.

So Jacob, let’s stop and take a moment to reflect at this intersection in life (which is not necessarily Valley and Berdan). Appreciate what you’ve accomplished as previously noted, savor the next couple of weeks, and then continue doing what you do and the rest will take care of itself.

We all wish for you what we hope you wish for yourself; fulfillment, health, and prosperity - and the ability to share it with you!

* To have TWO kids that you feel this way about, which is a topic for a later date – possibly Father’s Day…

A Letter to President Obama

Dear President Obama,

I’d like to take this opportunity to offer a suggestion that might benefit the country (as well as your reelection campaign). And because I perceive that the following frame of reference is important to whichever college intern reads this before it’s deposited into the circular file, or makes it one level up if I’m lucky (nothing against you intern), and perhaps even warrant a form letter response (dare to dream), I’ll tell you that I was a Democrat for 30 years (although I did vote for President Reagan) before I recently unaffiliated and am now an Independent.

I think you did a phenomenal job of using your skills to get elected President, but I don’t think you’re using your skills to be President. You are the President of the United States. You are the Leader of the free world. That’s what you have to do. You have to Lead.

You certainly were dealt a tough hand, but I think you could be accomplishing more than you have. Like it or not you’re not going to ram “The American Jobs Act” down the Republican’s throats, and when you blame the other side of the aisle in the court of public opinion you sound just as partisan as they do.

I thought you would have learned your lesson after giving Pelosi and Reid healthcare to reform when you first came into office. They used that opportunity to fan a flame that infuriated the masses enough to enable the Tea Party to help the Republicans gain control of the House, and fracture their party along the way so that now both sides of the aisle are dysfunctional. Remember, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting a different result.

What you need to do is apply your inherent strength – oratory - to our country’s current weakness – lack of national community. This is demonstrated in Washington by our embarrassing lack of partisanship and across the country in our ever increasing class polarization. And it manifests itself in our inability to agree on the economic reform its going to take to get the country moving in the right direction, and in so doing renew the “hope” that was the catalyst for many of us to vote for you in the first place.

You have to get the masses and the media to take the conversation up a notch. It’s not about Democrats vs. Republicans, it’s not about cutting stimulus and spending vs. raising taxes. It’s about; we’re all in a big hole together, and if we want to get out of it, we’re all going to have to give up something. Together.

Mr. President, instead of blaming the Republicans, instead of blaming Wall St., instead of blaming anyone, you need to get everyone’s buy in. And you will get everyone’s buy in, by demonstrating how to do it. I believe it starts with you serving everybody, not just the people who voted for you, not just the organizations you lobbied for endorsement and votes, anybody can do that. It's about you demonstrating how we're all going to have to give up something by serving the other side of the aisle. Yes, we’re going to have to cut stimulus spending. No we’re not going to be able to help college students right now (and I have/had sons in college), and yes we’re going to have to start receiving social security payments when we’re a little older.

Mr. President you’re going to have to wrap up some holiday gifts up for the Republicans so they can present them to their constituents - and enable them to save face when they make their fair share of concessions as well. Because we’re also going to have to raise taxes (let them call it cutting out the loopholes, and “modifying” the tax code). And we’re also going to have to "align" government employee benefits so they map to the benefits employees get in the private sector. And while we’re at it, to show us how it's done, our leaders in Congress’ are going to have to "tweak" their benefits so they reflect what the rest of us get as well because the only thing we've gotten from our two elected branches of government recently is a lower credit rating.

Unfortunately, the bad news is that it takes a war to bring us all together as one nation, but the good news is that we now have that war. It's called Infighting. And we all caused it so nobody is going to be able to keep their toys this year, or for the foreseeable future until we get the economy righted.

It’s been said on more that one occasion that great Presidents are made by serving in tough times. Well now you’ve got them. So Lead us out of them. Use this reality to bring us all together. Again. 

Sincerely,

Howie Fertig

Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie, Chevrolet, and the High Holidays!

If you’re Jewish and a baseball fan, there’s gotta be a special place in your heart for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. As the vast majority of those reading this probably know, it started way back before SportsCenter and smart phones, when dinosaurs roamed the earth, with Hank Greenberg and Sandy Koufax foregoing important games at the end of the season and during the World Series respectively.

Then as fans we carried the torch, as kids in junior congregation or a cool parent in each synagogue across America would bring a transistor radio with an earpiece into the service, listen to the game, and like a  3rd base coach flashing signs, bring the rest of the congregation up to speed on the scores. I bet if you did social research on this these kids either grew up to commit adultery or give away trade secrets – unless they were busted by their parents or the junior congregation teacher Ms. Schwartz, the fear of that leaving a lasting impression on them so they became Secret Service, or TV sports anchors instead.

There are mystical qualities to both entities as well and this year has been no exception. Flash back to the 1st night of Rosh Hashanah which was the last night of the regular season. After dinner we had 7 guys watching 3 games simultaneously, at one point changing the channel after each pitch - as in each league the wild card favorites (Boston Red Sox and Atlanta Braves) were in the process of historic chokes, being overtaken by streaking teams (Tampa Bay Rays and St. Louis Cardinals) in the 162nd game of the season within about 30 minutes of each other. Then in services the next morn you read of Abraham almost killing his first born Isaac and being stopped by angels in the nick of time.

On Yom Kippur the holiday and American pastime symmetry continued as at night the National League leading Philadelphia Phillies were beaten in the first round by the aforementioned Cardinals at home, which came a night after the best of the American League New York Yankees lost to the Detroit Tigers – at home. Both losers were the prohibitive favorites at the beginning of the season to meet in the World Series with the Phils beating the Yanks because good pitching beats good hitting, but that’s why they play the games. Meanwhile on the day of Yom Kippur we’re fasting and dreaming of delicacies (specifically a pastrami on rye with mustard and a Dr. Brown’s Cream Soda on the side, which was a change of pace – usually it’s sweet and pungent pork with fried wontons at Woo-Hop’s – downstairs thank you, reminiscent of the glory days of breaking fast at my mom’s and then driving to Chinatown to really break fast) while contemplating Jonah being the main course for a great fish that in the end actually had acid reflux.

As for the rest of the season(s), the Cards are going to the big dance because their opponents the Milwaukee Brewers' (has there ever been a more aptly named sports team?) star player Ryan Braun played on Yom Kippur (yes he’s only ½ Jewish on his father’s side and non-observant – according to the NYT, but homey don’t play that), and we’re rooting for the Detroit Tigers in the AL because we’d like a classic World Series matchup from 68 http://www.baseball-reference.com/postseason/1968_WS.shtml to give us another opportunity to go back and forth between the past and present, as that’s what we start to do at this time of year.

And the way sports seasons have gotten stretched out – we should have a champ by Hanukkah!

Jobs as Einstein

The first thing “i" thought of when I heard that Steve Jobs died last night was that this as the end of an era. I’m not sure what the era will be defined as, but the passing of a guy that has affected the world this dramatically is the societal equivalent of seismic plates shifting underfoot.

Then this morning Carol said he was a genius, like Einstein. Like Einstein?! My first response was NFW, and not just as a knee jerk reaction because my wife said it ;-) Einstein “the brand” is hallowed ground. But the more I thought about it, what other single person has done so much over the last 25 years to change the way people live their lives? To change the way companies do business? If you go back to the advent of the personal computer he’s there with Bill Gates, and then Jobs pulls away.

He starts by creating the iPod, which becomes the standard in size, shape and ease of use for all handheld devices (remember Motorola flip phone?), and revolutionizes the music industry in the process. Then he adds a phone to it and creates the first all-in-one that actually works (think TV/VCR, or those TV/Cassette/FM radios you used to get when you opened a bank account). And on his way out he blows this up in size, like putting it on steroids, and cracks the code on the tablet. Even as we speak, companies, whole industries, are becoming completely portable, transforming the speed and efficiency of business around the world. And that efficiency translates into another reason why unemployment is where it’s at that gets overlooked, companies simply don’t need as many people to do the same amount of work. And along the way he’s changed our vocabulary, putting a one letter prefix in front of every word implies it’s technologically savvy (I thought of putting an i in front of every word in this but you get the point).

So once I got my head around all his tangible successes, I started to reflect on some of his intangible achievements;

- Beauty: who’s done a better job of marrying technology and modern design? Unless you fly to Copenhagen where else do you see that? To have any additional beauty in the world is a great thing.

- Leadership: where else have you seen one man shape something so large and so directly? As the book is written about him over time it’ll be interesting to see who actually did what, but at the end of the day it was his name on the line. Often you hear of leaders who are great visionaries, but to be great at execution as well (save the occasional prototype left in a restaurant) is rare. And to do it consistently over such a long time span…who does that? You kinda wonder what would happen if he was President? Of course he could never have that level of autonomy which is probably a big reason why he and others like him didn’t/don’t go into politics…

- Loyalty: for somebody that famous and that ill to be able to keep that level of privacy. The fact that no one leaked to the media that he was on his death bed when there’s so much focus on him, that respect is real proof of great leadership.

- Mortality: he was 56 years old. I’m 53. To be able to do what he did? You can’t help on some level to think from a career perspective, “what the f&%k have I accomplished?” Of course you can’t look at it that way, you’ve just gotta have gratitude for what he created, appreciate all that he accomplished, and use that as fuel to go out and live your dreams, as he apparently did his.

So yes, I guess he’s an Einstein, only instead of changing the way we look at the world, he changed the way we live in it daily. A guy who created a legendary brand has become the new “brand” for genius. What he accomplished was“Jobsian”.

Pet Peeve #1

I hate it when;
I go into the locker room at the gym, and no one’s there. I pick a locker, usually at an end or in a corner and before I claim it, I check the locker on either side and make sure nothing is in them so I have “my space”.
Then I finish my run or workout, come back in all sweaty, and either;
1- While I’m getting ready for a shower with my locker door open, another guy comes in and makes a beeline to the locker that’s right next to mine! What’s up with that? Or even worse…
2- I come in and he’s already set up camp. Has his stuff out on the bench right in front of my locker, towel laid out on the ground, and then when I go to open my locker, I sense that indignant vibe and I throw it right back, like, what the f*#& are you doing? Although that can be a little precarious…don’t want to get into a verbal dispute with your schmigick hanging out.
Anyway, I propose the following invention to alleviate this. Lockers should be the size of the individual. Just like in the Men’s Department, you got your 38 Regulars, you got your Big & Talls, and you have you boys department. Not bad. Eh? Thoughts…