Four years ago, a close personal friend of mine committed suicide. Recently, 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 threw a party to celebrate the purchase of a brand-new 15-inch television set that cost a fortune at the time.

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.

Recently, I listened to a wonderful podcast and a clip from This American Life about preschool children constantly tattling on each other. I didn’t realize this was such a big deal, but when I asked my daughter, who is a preschool teacher, she told me it was a huge part of the class.

With the parents’ and preschool staff’s permission, a journalist set up an old red wall phone in the classroom that recorded the children’s voices. He placed a sign over the phone that read “Tattle Phone” and recorded a message thanking the children for calling and asking them to “Tell the Whole Story” of their complaint. The kids absolutely loved it; the phone was ringing off the hook all day long.

The comments are truly delightful; I especially love two from young girls. One softly asked about a boy: “Who farted in my face?” and quickly added, “And the worst part was he didn’t say he was sorry.” Another girl started with, “Thank you for taking my call. I have to go now,” and about an hour later, called again to say, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry I had to go.” Children are wonderfully honest, unafraid to share what’s on their minds. We can all learn something from these charming stories in “Tales from the Tattle Phone.”

Yesterday, I shared my thoughts on shampoo, and I think it’s only fair we hear from Old Spice as well. Honestly, I can’t think of a single man who hasn’t used Old Spice aftershave lotion. Chances are, if you’re in a room with 100 guys, someone will smell it.

It was probably the top-selling aftershave—or close to it. And let’s not forget, every young boy eager to impress girls would douse himself in it for a dance or a date. I still use it myself, even though the glass bottles are no longer available, and it’s no longer manufactured by the same company. But whenever I walk into a meeting or a room, I can still feel that confident vibe of Old Spice over any new, less memorable foreign aftershave.

Some time ago, a friend gave me a book as a birthday present. It resides, every day, on my bed stand; little did my friend know that this book’s title was my mom’s iron-clad daily rule for me.

This book was written by a US Navy 4-Star Admiral, who headed up, among other things, the US Navy SEAL program. He wrote this book to offer words of encouragement and simple wisdom. If he only knew that my mom’s advice pre-dated his by decades.

Every day of my life, I make my bed; leaving it unmade is unthinkable. My mom accepted no excuse for an unmade bed. Illness, anxiety, a surgical procedure, or laziness didn’t matter to her; over time, I took her mandate as a part of life.

On page one, chapter one of his book, the author says: “Start Your Day with a Task Completed.” My mom never wrote a book, but she impressed me with the importance of starting each day with a feeling of accomplishment.

Thanks, Mom; the Admiral agrees with you.

Every so often, I watch the movie Casablanca. For a movie made in 1942 and filmed in Burbank, California, it’s incredible how popular it is. Even more impressive is the pairing of Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman. Whenever I watch it, I find a scene or two I might have missed earlier.

Ingrid Bergman is luminescent; Bogart is the bad guy gone good. No matter how often I watch them together, I can’t imagine another couple capable of making this movie. So yes, here’s looking at you, kid, for many more years.

Attending the Kentucky Derby in the company of 150,000+ of your best friends must be fun. Being at the rail when the sun comes up with the horses a few feet away from you is an unbelievable experience and, one that I’ll never forget.

Churchill Downs sets aside two days for a program called Dawn at the Derby. Each year, it allows spectators to enter before dawn to watch the morning workouts of derby horses.

It’s incredible to stand at the actual rail (something 99% of anyone will never do) and watch the jockeys blast past. The horses are far larger than you’d think, and they move. They thunder past the rail, close enough for everyone to feel their hooves hit the ground.

One of the best parts of the dawn workout is when the jockeys slow down and let the horses walk alongside the rail; they are close enough for a person to reach out and touch them. I’ll never be fortunate to see the derby, but each year I make a beeline before dawn to share in this beautiful experience.

Many of us my age fondly remember reciting the Pledge of Allegiance before school started. We knew the words well and felt proud to say them aloud. Today, this tradition is becoming a distant memory in schools. Yet, every day, news outlets highlight the importance of taking pride in our country. It’s a shame to think that we might not see this meaningful practice return—imagine flags waving in classrooms and children’s voices echoing through the halls. How could anyone not find this inspiring?

Often, I reflect on the things I have done throughout my lifetime that may have caused harm to someone, resulting in pain or discomfort. As I am closer to the end of my life than he beginning, thoughts like this are more common. I read something today that made me pause; it was a devotional that addressed forgiveness, titled as shown above. It is painful to think about the times I have disappointed or hurt someone. In my heart and prayers, I hope that somehow I have asked others to forgive me. The wonderful Rector of our church offers me absolution through confession; every time he does this, I am thankful. I do “humbly confess my sins”.

This was a Monday. At this exact date in time, I was probably walking the halls of Jefferson High, thinking of when the lunch bell would ring or what my girlfriend, Diana, had in mind after school. Frequently, someone would plan a party in their parents’ garage, so we would look forward to a make-out party disguised as a social gathering, where we would certainly hear these songs over and over. My personal favorite was (and is) “Rebel Rouser” man, that guy could play his Twangy Guitar. Ah, memories – I often hear that song on Spotify – Who knew?