Blogs

The concept seems simple enough – pick an ornament off the tree, read the gift requested by a needy recipient, buy the gift, wrap it, and put it back under the tree. You feel good knowing that you have provided a nicer Christmas for someone truly in need, in the spirit of the holiday. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

My wife recently asked that I send an email on her behalf and provided the address. When I noticed it contained twisted spelling, I asked if it was a hybrid version of “gallant lady”. While waiting for a reply, I went online and googled it. It seems Gallant Lady is a popular name for yachts and race horses, a movie from the 40’s and various lines from selected poems. Noble as they may be, none of them capture the heart or spirit of the “gallant lady” we know. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

Last weekend was very special. I accepted an invitation to crew on a sailboat in a local benefit regatta. The boat’s owner spent the last four years restoring this antique daysailer, originally built in 1947, and it’s now looking even better than it did when it first rolled out of the boatyard. I hadn’t raced in nearly 40 years, but was honored to have been asked. The boat is the same class as mine and as I am quite familiar with it, it wasn’t a random invitation. I went into this event and (I am happy to say) came out of it with the mindset that “it’s all about the boat” and determined not to let the racing get in the way of enjoying it. This beautiful boat did garner its share of “gawkers” as my skipper proudly referred to them, and they, too, had a genuine interest in her story. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

Last year my wife and I had the great good fortune to visit Charleston, South Carolina, a city rich in history, architectural treasures, and culinary delights. If you haven’t been there, it’s certainly worth a visit; if you have, then perhaps it’s time to go again; if you live there, ahhh, enjoy it! (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

As I am writing this newsletter, my wife is leading a delegation of junior high school students to visit two villages in the mountains of El Salvador, her eighth such visit. For these students, it is language and cultural immersion as they live with local families, share meals, play with and teach the children. One year we raised the money to buy the materials for - and actually help clear the land and build - a community center. Each year, money is raised to provide scholarships for students to attend regional high school and university, which are not available within the communities. Without these funds, most of these children would not be able to continue their formal education. The first scholarship recipients are now just graduating college! (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

Every year at this time, I prepare for my annual journey to Anaheim, California to attend the National Products Association’s Expo West. This is the largest product exhibition in our industry geared primarily to retail stores. Over the years, the event has gotten larger and more elaborate. There are three primary benefits for me continuing to attend: the opportunity to meet with 30 or so of our suppliers in one weekend; to gain perspective for what is going on in the industry including what the new ‘hot’ items are (none of which we have ever added to our line!); and finding new suppliers or product lines, some of which have been excellent. The value to me changes year to year – but I am still drawn, still eager to attend. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

You can see it on the lake, or at least in the activity on the lake. From the Fourth of July
until Labor Day, the number of boats churning up the water inevitably dwindles. Vacations
elsewhere, other family activities and back to school preparations are all to blame. Oh sure,
there will be one or two more “last hurrahs” when the weather is so perfect that nearly
everyone gives it one more go, another burst of fun before putting their boats away for the
school year. It’s a rhythm of the place that we are now used to, and a welcome one at that.
The lake becomes more serene and more enticing as fall approaches, especially to us sailors. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

Early this morning, I walked a path I had not been on in nearly twenty years. it meandered around in a high and steep cliff overlooking the ocean on a peninsula in Southern California. There were many natural lookout points to just stop and gaze - to see the play of the surf on the rocky beach so far below me and, as it receded, the evidence of its long history in doing just that, to see the sea birds gliding gracefully upon the dancing winds, to hear the doves cooing in their nests amidst the bushes blooming in the crevices, to see the sun sprinkling its light where shadows end, and to feel it all and feel one with it all. I walked, I sat to drink in this moment, this salty and sweet pause in my life, but mostly I just admired. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

It’s an interesting process when you commit to create and share articles like this on a
regular basis, ones with real publication deadlines. You can only hold out for an inspirational
thought for so long. That inspiration can come from anywhere, and often does, when you
least expect it. Rarely is it packaged complete. So, when you read something that resonates
with your own beliefs and is so well presented and interesting, you just know there is
nothing you should do to change it. So it was for me when one morning over coffee my wife
introduced me to a presentation entitled We Came to Dance by Tasha Blank, a renowned DJ.
I encourage you to watch the video, as it is set to rhythmic music and the most wonderful
images of people dancing. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vYD1UkN_KGI) (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)

Slipping out of a harbor in Southern California, the large sailboat crawled across the flat surface of the ocean, its sails furled as a concession to the incredibly still morning. Were they hoisted they would have proven totally useless and inconvenient. The only sounds to be heard were the drone from the small engine below, the bark of some distant sea lions sun bathing on a channel buoy, the dull roar of traffic on a freeway, the screech from passing sea gulls and the voice of an occasional child frolicking on a sandy beach nearby. The “sailors” on board were mostly silent, enjoying being on the water, feeling the warmth from the sun upon their faces, but mostly in reverence to their mission – executing the final wish of a beloved ancestor, a US Navy retiree. She requested that her ashes be scattered upon this vast ocean in accordance with the timeless, universal tradition that spans civilizations, cultures and religions. It is a ceremony that has existed in one form or another for thousands of years, nearly as long as man has put upon the sea. The crew was feeling connected to this eternity, yet somehow alone out there, despite the fact that 6 million people in the city were busily going about their day on the other side of the beach they could now barely see. (PLEASE CLICK ON THE TITLE ABOVE TO CONTINUE READING.)