In an earlier post, I wrote about the suicide of a dear friend. As I was writing this, I started thinking of the number of friends I have. Is it enough? Should I have more? Are my friends true friends? I am pretty sure my number of friends remains the same for decades. I hear people say, “We are friends on Facebook.” That implies to me they really aren’t actual friends in real life. I only use Facebook for work, and I have 2 friends, which seems plenty to me.

Three years ago, a close personal friend of mine committed suicide. Today, for the first time, I learned how he died. It was like a thunderbolt when I heard the news, and I was stunned beyond belief. He was an esteemed physician, a proud father, a great husband, and a brother to me. We saw each other nearly daily; I lived nearby and shared dinners, laughs, and good and bad wine with him.

He was multi-talented. Born in China to missionary doctors, he spoke Chinese like fish peddlers, and he treated every patient with empathy and professionalism. His talents in the kitchen were well-known. He would invite his friends to weekend get-togethers at the drop of a hat. He once had a party to celebrate the purchase of a brand new 15-inch television set that cost a fortune then.

My memories of our time together blend into a years-long moving video. Today, I’ll pay tribute to his honor and pray for eternal rest. Be well, dear friend.

When we lived in San Francisco, I decided I needed a motorcycle, specifically a Honda 550-4 model like the one shown here. Never mind that I didn’t have 10 minutes of experience riding a bike like that, nor the required driver’s license.

These were minor details in my plan. Sure enough, it wasn’t long before a friend took me to a Honda dealer in Alameda, across the bay from San Francisco. Once at the dealership, I had a brief discussion with the salesperson, signed some papers, and in a frightening length of time, I was (with my bank) the proud owner of a brand new, blue Honda motorcycle.

Emboldened by my lack of experience and knowledge I hopped on the motorcycle (no helmet, please) and wobbled around their parking lot for about 30 minutes. That was plenty of instruction for me and shortly found myself blasting across the San Francisco-Oakland-Bay Bridge on my way home, going at least 60 miles an hour.

Miraculously, I made it home in one piece.

My confidence grew and, I came to love that motorcycle. My three daughters took turns riding with me as we discovered the hills and streets of San Francisco. We’d go on rides up the coast to Point Reyes, Bolinas and Sonoma for top-class picnics. As I write this now in retrospect, it’s highly unlikely, to say the least we’d do this without safety gear.

However, since I was now a skilled driver, at least in my own opinion, I wanted a regular, enthusiastic riding partner. Who better qualified for this than my youngest daughter; she was the most fearless and she was up for anything I cooked up for us. To her, nothing was too ridiculous or dangerous.

She was my perfect match.

One Saturday morning I woke before dawn; I went to her bedroom and shook her awake. I told her to quietly get dressed and meet me downstairs in front of our garage. Ok, Dad, this is another great plan waiting in the wings.

It was just about dawn when we started our journey; she had no idea where we were going, but it didn’t matter. The Golden Gate Bridge was a short distance from our house and, soon we were zooming across the bridge as the sun started to rise. It was a beautiful sight and for a moment, it seemed we were flying. We were, in a sense.

She wanted to ride forever; however, we crossed the bridge and returned home, stopping at our favorite bakery, Ahren’s for a bag of doughnuts to share with our family. We made it back home before anyone was up or knew we’d gone anywhere other than to the bakery. Neither my daughter nor myself mentioned our sunrise ride.

Some things are just too special to share, I suppose.

Last night, I watched another rerun of the PBS showing of the annual Lawrence Welk Christmas show. It was, and is, a spectacular collection of music, incredibly corny skits, and an army of talented, charming children of cast members.

My mom loved the weekly Lawrence Welk shows; she never missed one episode. We had a Motorola television set (black and white, of course). When it was time for the show, my mom would quiet everyone, and we’d dive into the music and entertainment.

A show like his wouldn’t have a chance in today’s media market. However, at the time, he (and the show) was one of the most popular ever. How Lawrence Welk went from his Honolulu Fruit Gum Orchestra leadership to Champagne Music is beyond my imagination. I saw a live show decades ago; it was terrific, and the other guests around me were a rainbow of early 60’s fashion.

He was pretty strict with show members. However, he featured and introduced some of the most talented, professional, and famous musicians ever. The performers radiated talent even in the early days before the color broadcast. As the show grew and improved, artists like The Lennon Sisters, Norma Zimmer, and Myron Cohen kept their train moving ahead and on time.

Around the time the program moved into color broadcasting, we bought a new television; now, my mom was thrilled. The show had the most incredible costumes; the dance numbers were spectacular, and the audience grew. Now, the show is one of PBS’s most-watched weekly programs. It’s possible to see fantastic performers like Ava Barber, Lynn Anderson, Bobby Burgess (from the Mickey Mouse Club), and Jo-Ann Castle.

From time to time, PBS features one of the earlier shows, sponsored by Geritol; now that’s a name brand that will live on forever, just like the show itself.

 

 

 

 

The greatest danger seems to be my time exploring the various AI platforms and programs. On the other hand, I am not a fan of television; this has taken over channel surfing for me.

Every five minutes, there seems to be a new way to access and create AI imagery. I am genuinely seduced by the ways this is integrated into my imagination.

It takes time and patience to crack the first level of AI, either imagery or, even better, copywriting and marketing. I have spent my entire career developing sales programs, direct marketing programs, and endless PowerPoint presentations; AI has the power to change how I work.

Along with the delights of learning and discovering ways to use AI, I began to understand the challenges ahead and concerns about AI products taking away business opportunities for some people. For now, and for me, this is a significant step forward for creativity and learning; every day, I find new, fun, and helpful ways to use AI (like the AI image in this post.)

I read an article today that announced, “Paper checks are dead.” I am here to tell you that I regularly write and send paper checks, and I have no plans to discontinue this lifelong habit. In doing so, I am clearly swimming against the tide. The article said that 57% of Americans haven’t written a check in over a month.

The good news is that three-quarters of Americans aged 65 and older still use checks. A few days ago, I watched a woman write a check for a small purchase painstakingly at a local supermarket. The cashier patiently waited for her to write out the details with a smile on his face. I’ve found that it’s pretty tricky to obtain checks when you run out. Fortunately (and for how long, I don’t know), I can purchase them online from Costco. I hope the check order doesn’t disappear like their Polish Hot Dog.

In the movie “Eurovision Song Contest: The Story of Fire Saga,” Rachel McAdams co-stars with Will Ferrell as a lead singing contestant.

I happened to watch the movie again last night; if you do, the best ten minutes are at the end. She is lip-singing to a fantastic song called “Husavik,” which means “home” in Icelandic.

Even though the song is sung by an artist named Molly “My Marianne” Sanden (she’s Swedish), a sensational singer in her own right, Rachel’s performance is spectacular.

Many of us have a love-hate relationship with Netflix; however, this is one great movie they are streaming now.

I am fortunate to have visited some of the world’s most beautiful hotels. While most of them are somewhat predictable, the Keio Plaza Hotel in Tokyo really impressed me. I stayed here for two nights in one of their Tatami Suite accommodations. I don’t know how I ended up in this incredible room, but it was one of the most unusual, comfortable, and memorable hotel experiences I’ve ever had.

Most especially since this suite is located in a high-rise hotel, one you’d never, ever believe had such a suite. When you walk off the elevator and open the door, you are momentarily stunned at what you see. To say it’s beautiful is an understatement. It’s subtle, calm, and unique. It’s on a very high hotel floor (I think it was the 40th floor), which makes this even more impressive. The bed was a traditional futon; the room was large enough to accommodate at least four people, and the traditional Japanese bath was, in a word, unforgettable. I’ll never forget this experience, ever.

I’ve always been a huge fan of Elton John. I stood in a line for nearly 7 hours waiting to purchase tickets for my friends and myself to one of his live concerts In Tucson (which was fantastic!). At the concert, he came on stage alone, with only a piano, and blasted his musical heart to us for nearly 3 hours. This man can perform, my friends.

His life has been examined under devices with the power of the Hubble Telescope; he has been adored, hated, vilified, and loved for over 50 years. No matter how you feel about Elton; where would we be without mega-hits like Candle in The Wind, Philadelphia Freedom, Crocodile Rock, Circle of Life, and, my all-time favorite, Rocketman.

The movie “Rocketman” is fantastic. Taron Edgerton brought Elton’s life story to motion and music. The movie brings the man and the superstar to life. Elton is an unbelievable person, a wonderful family man, and a colossal survivor.

He is an international treasure; I’d stand in line for a ticket for any concert, anywhere.