What Would Thoreau Say?

  It’s an exaggeration to say the afternoon I spent with Hank Aaron was the greatest day of my life, but those who know how crazy baseball people are, wouldn’t be shocked if they heard me say it was. To spend time with Hammerin’ Hank, alone, just him and me, ranks up there as a great day and certainly one of the greatest days in my baseball life. I was the head of marketing and fund raising for a national nonprofit based in Atlanta. We recruited Hank to our Board of Governors and since I always had the job of first visiting the recruit to talk about the board, I was beside myself when I heard one of the greatest baseball players of all time was to get one of my briefing visits. I had done a lot of these meetings, some with high-profile people. But having one of these meetings with Hank Aaron? This was a whole new ballgame (sorry) for a baseball nut like me. This was Henry Freakin’ Aaron!   I couldn’t sleep the night before and the day of the meeting I couldn’t eat or har...

As one who cries easily, Wednesday’s inauguration festivities were a two box of tissues day for me. Of course, many of my tears were the result of watching the history making Vice President. How could I not be moved by watching a black/Asian woman become Vice President of the United States? But truth be known, mostly my emotions were feelings of relief that our Long National Nightmare, to copy a phrase from our past, was over. I cried as much for who was out of the government as who was coming in to the government. After watching the 45 th President slink out of town, after issuing yet another slew of pardons for crooks, cronies, embezzlers, conspiracy theorists and serial liars, I knew things would be better. But it didn’t reduce my anger. I sat watching Air Force One take off and literally said out loud, with a voice I’m not used to, ‘for god’s sake, just go!’ Unfortunately, the other emotion I felt most of the day was one of resignation to what was coming next. For now, I knew, wou...

Each morning in our house, whoever gets up first, hits the coffee button to begin brewing what I had prepared the night before. Then my wife and I sit in our favorite leather chairs in the library/study surrounded by books, old desks and busts of American heroes.  A friend once described the room as 'perfect Americana,' and the hundreds (possibly as many as a thousand?) people who have found themselves in this room over the almost 12 years I have owned The Hermitage, usually comment on how comfortable and 'cozy' the room feels. As I have written before, the whole house is decorated as a mid 19th century, country cottage. (Oh, how often does my wife tell me I was born in the wrong century. I only hope she means historically and not so she wouldn't have had to meet me.) I have hesitated to write about the attempted coup last Wednesday because there have been millions of words already written by far better writers than me. Truthfully, I didn't know what I could add...