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Michael Copeland

City Boy Enjoys the Country Life

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As I sit on the porch of my cousin’s home on 20 acres of ranch and farmland in beautiful Brenham, Texas, I’m reminded of the popular television series Green Acres that ran from 1965 to 1971. Green Acres was a sitcom about a successful, wealthy attorney, Oliver Wendell Douglas (Eddie Albert) who buys a rundown farm from con-man, Mr. Haney, much to the chagrin of his sophisticated Hungarian wife, Lisa’s (Eva Gabor). When they arrive at the ramshackle place, Oliver and Lisa try to get used to the bizarre town of Hooterville (not Hooters-Ville although the potential storylines would certainly have an audience) while trying to fix up their shack of a  home with the help of their humble, but dimwitted, hired hand, Eb. Ironically, Lisa is the one who makes friends with their cow, Eleanor, their chicken, and Alice and Fred Ziffel’s television-loving pet pig, Arnold, who they treat like a son and who seems to be smarter than the most of the Hotterville citizens in several ways.  That’s not to say Brenham is anything like Hooterville, but tending cows and chickens, enjoying a 4H auction, attending a VFW ceremony and grabbing a one-dollar ice cream at the Blue Bell Creamery might put most I-680 residents a little out of their element, much like the Douglass’. I, on the other hand, have been coming here most of my life and it’s a visit that’s good for the soul. 

Some of my fondest family memories were our road trip vacations to Texas every few years to visit my paternal grandmother, along with my aunt and uncle and their kids. Now the road trips in the family car I could’ve done without as we were forced to listening to horrible music while both parents smoked with the windows rolled up.  My dad would say, we can’t roll down the windows or we’ll let all the cold air conditioning out. My younger sister could sleep, but unless I was reading a good book, those trips that routed through Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico, and most of Texas were pure torture. I remember wishing someone (me) would invent a small device to play cassette tapes with earphones so I could listen to my own music. Or better yet, if somehow I could concoct a small portable screen that might play movies then all this pain would go away. Obviously, I was a visionary way ahead of my time since Sony didn’t come out with the Walkman until late 1979 and portable DVD players weren’t available until around 1998. If only one of the early Silicon Valley tech firms could’ve tapped into my 3rd or 4th-grade Genius Kid brain. Think of the money we could have made?

Those trips were all about visiting family and experiencing a different way of life from what we knew growing up in suburban Mountain View. My older cousins were country tough and I idolized them. The boys were pretty rugged too. As it was a working ranch, we stored hay bales in the barn, fed cows, collected chicken eggs, worked the greenhouse and garden, fished at the lake, hunted for snakes, fired guns, and drove the tractor—all the things my HOA frowns upon. There were always dogs and cats around along with the occasional armadillo, but armadillos don’t like to be petted as I found out the hard way.

Once I hit 16, my high school and college football training obligations prohibited me from making the summer trip with my parents. Once I graduated from college, there was Club Med and other singles-type vacations that distracted me. I didn’t return to Texas until I was 28.  Reconnecting with my country kin became a priority again after my dad passed away earlier that year. Since 1990, I have returned to the Great State of Texas every few years. Along the way, I have introduced my daughters and wife to country living. Dropping two Danville debutantes into the heart of the Lone Star State was educational, inspirational, and motivational. There’s nothing like stepping in a fresh cow pie wearing Tory Burch sandals to make a girl appreciate her tidy back yard. The truth is my girls seemed to enjoy and remember their Texas trip adventures as fondly as my sister and I did as kids.

This year’s trip was predicated on us taking our youngest daughter back to school at the University of Oklahoma where she’ll be starting her junior year as a Boomer Sooner. Who knew Sooners boomed other than at the quarterback position? After flying into Austin and driving the 70 miles into Brenham, we arrived just in time for a family BBQ and margarita chugging contest. During our five day visit, we toured both the George H.W. Bush Presidential Library on the Texas A&M campus and the Johnson Space Center in Houston—two things I had never done on any previous trip.

Given that the catfish weren’t biting, one of the highlights of this visit may have been seeing two calves being born in the pasture on consecutive days. Truth be told, other than my own kids being birthed, which was messy enough, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen another living thing being born. While we didn’t see them actually drop, we were there just a few minutes after their arrival.  It was pretty cool.

We have been back to Texas for three big holidays; Easter, Thanksgiving, and the 4th of July. There’s a simple, warm pleasure to experiencing a holiday in the country. I think that’s what most Hallmark movies try and replicate. Not that I watch cheesy Hallmark holiday movies…very often. We have also attended the Washington Country Fair twice which is also something to be experienced, with rodeo competitions, 4H auctions, concerts, food eating contests, and carnival rides. Washington County is the oldest county in Texas and the birthplace of Texas, or so the billboards proclaim.

While I did find Green Acres amusing, I probably enjoyed the Andy Griffith Show, Mayberry R.F.D., and Petticoat Junction even more. All of those shows portrayed country life in a gentle, down-home, relatively care-free environment. Doc Hollywood, Sweet Home Alabama and Fried Green Tomatoes were also wonderfully whimsical movies about life in the south. Steel Magnolias was good but too sad for my tastes. Granted, life is never as simple as television or the silver screen portrays it, but there’s something to be said for the charm, manners, and simplicity of life in the country.

Summer Writer’s Block Vol. 6

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My annual whining (see the reference to volume 6?) about my lack of summer writing creativity is probably sounding like a broken record. Try as I might, when July rolls around, I suffer from a total lack of article ideas. Some might say that’s been the case since 2012, but “them is fightin’ words.” It might be the long days, the late nights or the margarita IV, but something causes a block when it comes to finding 1,200 words to fill my August column. Needless to say, as I’ve needlessly said for the past six years, instead of sticking with one theme, this issue will be a collection of thoughts or a hodgepodge if you prefer.

Back to School for the Empty Nester

Back to school used to be such an exciting time when my girls were young. It was the start of the next challenge in their academic development. It also meant reacquainting friendships, beginning new activities and getting them the hell out of the house for 6-7 hours a day after having them around 24/7 for the prior ten weeks. Don’t get me wrong, I loved having the little ones home for summer vacation, but it was also nice to see them go back to school.

Once our kids graduate high school and go away to college, the “Empty Nest” syndrome can kick in. Most (not all) parents miss that day-to-day interaction with their cubs. Back to school brings a certain sadness or melancholy feeling as you say your goodbye’s, knowing that if they are a plane ride away, chances are you won’t see them again for several months. It took the Mrs. and me a while to find our way. Sure, there’s binge-watching TV shows, puzzles and walking the cat, but thank goodness for Facetime. That is probably our main form of life support.

My Concert History

I don’t drink (much) and I don’t gamble (much) and I don’t smoke (except for medicinal needs), but attending concerts and comedy shows have always been a vice of mine. In the past, I’ve written about my connection to music without ever chronicling the shows I’ve attended over the years, which would take up too much room, so for those of you who are interested, here are my overall impressions of the shows I’ve attended since 1974. I hope this will help you recall a few of the live shows you’ve seen and perhaps even bring back a few treasured memories from your past.

First Concert/Show I Ever Attended: The Hudson Brothers, at the San Jose Civic Auditorium, 1974.

First Real Concert: Foghat, Eddie Money, and No Dice, at the Cow Palace, 1978.

Favorite Concerts:  Journey, at the Cow Palace, 1981; Prince, at HP Pavilion, 2011; Van Morrison, Nob Hill Masonic, 2008; Bon Jovi, MGM Grand, Las Vegas, 2000.

Biggest Thrill: Finally getting to see Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers at the Greek Theater, Berkeley, three weeks before he passed away. 

Biggest Spectacle: Kiss, at The Cow Palace, 1979 or U2, at the Oakland Coliseum, 2012.

Biggest Disappointment: Whitney Houston, at the Shoreline Amphitheater, 1986.

Biggest Missed Opportunity: Day on the Green featuring Aerosmith, Foreigner, Pat Travers, Van Halen, AC/DC,  July 23, 1978. At only 15, my mom wouldn’t let me go.

Coldest Show: Hootie & The Blowfish, at Wente Winery, Livermore, 2008. The wind chill was brutal.

Warmest Show: Alabama, at the Cal State Fairgrounds, Sacramento, 1986. It was 103 degrees at showtime.

Loudest Show: Def Leppard, at Shoreline Amphitheater, Mountain View, 1986.

Coolest Historic Venue Show: Shooting Star, at Winterland, 1982.

Coolest Club Show: Marc Cohn, at Great American Music Hall, 1994.

Best Circle Star Memory: The Jackson Five, 1975. Heavyweight Champ George Foreman was in attendance.

Epic Last Show: The Keystone, Palo Alto featuring Eddie Money, Greg Kihn, Night Ranger, and Eric Martin, 1987. Eddie was so drunk he forgot the words to his own songs.

An Unexpected Great Performance: The Band Perry at Super Bowl City in San Francisco, 2017, and Eddie Money’s acoustic show at The Cabaret, San Jose 1990. Eddie redeemed himself in my eyes.

Best Seats: Front row center for Bon Jovi at the MGM Grand, Las Vegas, 2006.

Surreal Experience: Watching Luther Vandross do his soundcheck and talking with him at a taping of Alan Thick’s Into the Night late-night show, 1985.

Regrettable Missed Performance: Maroon 5 opening for John Meyer and Counting Crows at the Concord Pavilion. Traffic and parking sucked. 

Outstanding Opening Acts (I had never heard of): Jason Mraz opening for Jewel; Kings of Leon opening for U2; and Matt Nathanson opening for Train.

Best Vocal Performance: The Sweet Remains, at the Firehouse Theater, Pleasanton, 2016. Incredibly beautiful three-part harmonies.

Best Instrumental Performance: Lindsey Buckingham, at the Palace of Fine Arts, 2018 and 2008. He is a guitar virtuoso.

Most Historic Concert Venue: The Grand Old Opry, Nashville, 2017.

Coolest One Song Concert Performance: Jennifer Lopez and Lynn Manual Miranda, The Today Show Plaza, NYC 2016.

Most Unexpected Concert Moment: A fight broke out during a Jewel Concert at the Mountain Winery, 2002, which also happens to be the coolest outdoor venue to see a show.

Funniest Comedy Show: George Carlin at the Circle Star Theater, 1978, or Garry Shandling, Harrah’s Lake Tahoe 1984, although Sinbad put on an outstanding “clean” show at Tommy T’s Comedy Club in 2019.

Filthiest Comedy Show: Sam Kinison, Flint Center, Cupertino, 1986.

Where is the final book of the trilogy?  

Rest assured, Alive & Thrivin’, The Thrillogy of a Trilogy is in production. Even though my books are compilations of past articles, there’s a lot that goes into the production of a 270-page manuscript. Coming up with a title, assembling material, crafting acknowledgments, dedications, chapter introductions and a collection of fake reviews is all part of it. Then there’s the three-day photoshoot for just the right picture for the back cover. Once everything is turned over to my book editor, it goes into a black hole for several months before I ever see the first draft.

We are hoping to have the book out by the holidays so it’s probably safe to put it on your Christmas/Hanukah list.  It also makes a great gift idea. White Elephant gift is fine too. So long as you purchase one, I don’t really care how it’s delivered. Email me to reserve a limited edition, signed collector’s original. I’ll even hand-deliver it.

That about wraps up this year’s edition of Summer Writer’s Block. I could go on and on about my annual garden gopher wars, the amount of graduation parties we attended (a personal best of 11) or the fact that I finally finished watching Game of Thrones, but nobody cares. It’s more amazing that I actually finished this piece for the next issue as I’m way over deadline and the editor is breathing down my neck. Otherwise, it’s been a nice summer so far.

Freedom and Independence in the Suburbs

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With one out in the bottom of the sixth inning and runners on first and third the eight and under girls All Star softball team I was coaching was feeling the pressure. This being the second game of a two game tournament, intensity was high. Little Jillian, the heart and soul of our team, dug in at the plate and with one swing of the bat her single to left drove in Madeline for the winning run. The dug-out erupted with the shrieking sound of little girls as they poured out onto the field to celebrate the victory. They were as genuinely excited as if they had just won a nationally televised Olympic game against a heavily favored team from Cuba. As I looked around the field at the sight of proud parents, engaged coaches, euphoric and disappointed players, meandering siblings, and relieved league officials, I thought to myself: could we be any luckier? Could freedom and independence in the suburbs be any more clearly defined than by a competitive softball game for little girls on a beautiful Sunday morning?

Having just celebrated another Fourth of July—Independence Day—I am so thankful and appreciative for the liberty we enjoy in our charmed Tri Valley lives. We drive our impractically large SUVs three blocks to purchase an overpriced Grande Mocha Al Pacino at Starbucks, we watch meaningless reality shows on our massive plasma TVs and we have cell phones that are also computers, music players, cameras, video cameras, and God knows what else when the alert is switched to vibrate. Common sense tells us we have too many extravagances in our lives and we should make more of an effort to conserve for our country, ourselves, and our kids future. Maybe it’s idealistic to think that most of us would be willing to do something, anything, to ensure that our children grow up happy, healthy and safe pursuing their childhood dreams, whether they are on a field, auditorium, classroom, or stage. Freedom and independence have a price and to just be grateful doesn’t seem enough.

It’s not a revolutionary statement to say life isn’t so free in other parts of the world.  In hundreds of countries around the globe organized youth sports are not part of the daily routine. Sure kids will always find a place to play, but children in those countries live with poverty, fear, and atrocities, the likes of which we’ll never know. Yet on any given day of the week you can drive the streets of suburban neighborhoods around the United States and see kids of every age participating in soccer, softball, baseball, basketball and even lacrosse (which I don’t yet get). This is where the spirit of competition is first experienced. To score a goal, to catch a fly ball, or finish a race are all beautiful productions. Is there anything more pure than a child’s smile when he or she accomplishes an athletic feat for the first time? As parents, it is our responsibility to nurture this opportunity by ensuring that our kids appreciate these activities or by volunteering our time to be involved as a coach, umpire, or league official as an expression of our appreciation.

Granted it’s hard to keep the kids uncorrupted with the attention the media gives professional athletes in this country.  If an athlete does something good we hear about it (Tiger Woods, Oscar De La Hoya, Natalie Coughlin) if it’s bad we hear about it (Barry Bonds, Michael Vick, Pac Man Jones) and if it’s entertaining you hear about it (Dale Earnhardt Jr., Venus Williams, the Golden State Warriors). Pressure to achieve is everywhere. Even in youth sports there’s over-the-top coaches, parents, and peers constantly looming. I admire organizations like the Positive Coaching Alliance (PCA) for their ongoing commitment to assist organization such as the San Ramon Valley Girls Athletic League (SRVGAL) and Mustang Soccer in their never ending quest to remind parents and coaches that it’s just a game.

Kids participating in sports can have either a positive or negative experience and it ultimately comes down to the philosophy and culture instilled by those in charge. Unfortunately too often it’s the coaches and parents who truly need to embrace PCA values that are in the back of the room talking, outside on their cell phones, or don’t bother attending the meetings at all. But like any organization with a large membership, one can only hope the fundamentals are in place and a majority of the members participate for the right reasons. 

Getting back to our All Start game, after a close first game against the other U8 North team, we squared off against a team from the South division in the consolation game. “Consolation” means we lost the first game. At our two weekday practices prior to Sunday’s tournament, my coaches, Traci and Kathy, and I, tried to instill a sense of pride, teamwork, and sportsmanship in our recently selected All Stars. All Star players, at this age, are chosen by their coaches and teammates to represent their respective team. We told the girls everyone will play and we would be rotating positions so that every player could contribute equally. While competition is healthy and winning or losing is a byproduct of talent and preparation, we, as coaches, know there will be plenty “must win” games in their future, so it was more important to us that the girls had a wonderfully fun experience.

Did I mention that most of the girls are seven years old?  Needless to say it’s more fun to win than lose and in the second game we pulled out one hum-baby of a victory. All tied up going into the top of the sixth the other team loaded the bases before our girls recorded three straight outs highlighted by a running catch in center field by Kelsey to end the inning. Fortunately when we scored in the bottom half of the inning our players got an opportunity to experience the sweet taste of victory.

When recently asked what comes to mind when I think of “Freedom and Independence,” I thought of our pitcher, Amanda, with a 100 watt smile on her dirt-smudged face, looking up to me at one point during the game and saying, “Coach Mike, this is really exciting.”

Freedom and independence for me is living in a place that allows our kids this endearing freedom to just be kids and the independence to participate in sports for the love of the game.

Cap & Gown Season

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My readers should be proud of me, because if you’ll recall from my January article (2011) one of my New Year’s resolutions was to further my education with an advanced degree from a reputable college. With that laser-focused goal in mind, last fall in enrolled in the San Francisco Comedy College. I’m proud to announce that I recently finished all my coursework, took my final exams, and earned my graduate degree in humorous magazine writing, with an emphasis in satire and whimsy. Graduation was a magical day for me and my family. At the commencement ceremony, I even adhered to the school tradition of going commando under my cap and gown. It was secretly liberating until those crazy alumni turned up the wind machines leaving the graduating class holding more than just our diplomas.

Do you want to know what they call the guy who finishes last in his comedy college class? Loser! I bet you thought the answer to that question was going to be more like the medical school question, where the guy who finishes last in his medical class is still called doctor, right? So did I! Apparently, Comedy College is a lot more judgmental than Doctor College.

I should have known that Comedy College was no picnic when right away I had trouble securing housing. Yea, because I got a late start, all the good dorms were full. Chucklehead Hall, Giggles Quarters, Cockoo Commons and even Griffendorks were all booked solid. I ended up living at a Holiday Inn Express where my roommates were a couple of meth heads and some guy in the witness protection program. I didn’t know you could get any more economical than a regular Holiday Inn, but the HI Express dorms would prove otherwise. I’m pretty sure I saw a dead clown floating in the pool.

Hoping to meet a few fellow students, I decided to rush a fraternity at the start of the semester. Again, bad choice. Those fraternity funny boys love to haze the freshmen and my Facebook page is now forever ruined thanks to those embarrassing rush party photos. Don’t worry, it wasn’t a real Emu. The upper classmen thought it was hilarious to put Super Glue in the Purell bottles, lock in our music apps to Celine Dion and at the “It Depends” social night of drinking we had only one bathroom option… and we were wearing it. The lone house to extend me an initiation bid was Alpha Beta Poo. Our ABP crest is a poop emoji in a shopping cart.  

Classes were tough, but I persevered thanks to my tutor, comedy writer and stand-up comic Tony Camin. Tony charged me $112/hour, which is roughly twice as much as he makes headlining at most comedy clubs. That said, his homework insights and test taking advice was crucial to my academic success. For my senior project, I wrote a paper entitled GOT, the comedy. It was a tale of how beheadings, dragons and Incest could have been played for laughs, making the HBO series, Game of Thrones, a sitcom. It got an F-, but at Comedy College that was a good grade. I think?

Our college didn’t have a big sports program. Instead of football, basketball and baseball, we had marbles, curling and corn-hole. We didn’t offer athletic scholarships because we competed in the WAC – Western Athletic-less Conference. Our big-game rallies and bonfires were done online to reduce our carbon footprint and because no one would probably come anyway. Our Comedy College mascot is the cougar. Not the mountain lion big cat, but an older woman pursuing a younger man type of cougar.

Our grad night was held at Tommy T’s Comedy Club in Pleasanton where, after watching an entertaining show featuring SFCC alumni, David Vanavermaete, my fellow grads and I, took turns on stage singing karaoke until the wee hours of the morning. My “go-to” song that night was Electric Lady by Con Funk Shun. I still can’t remember how I got home or where I left my pants.

My undergrad college experience might have been a lot more enjoyable and memorable, but I’m glad I fulfilled my lifelong goal—even if my diploma is printed on the back of a Chick-fil-a napkin.

Comedy College isn’t for everyone, but I will proudly wear my grad school SFCC Cougars apparel at the next business networking event I attend for Alive Magazine.

The Appeal of Boybands

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and my lifelong fascination with the genre

As creepy as that headline sounds, please allow me to clarify and expand on the notion that boy bands are now and have always been cool. A boy band (or boyband) is loosely defined as a vocal group consisting of young male singers, usually in their teenage years or in their early twenties at the time of formation, singing love songs marketed towards young women. They often also incorporate choreographed dance routines to perform along with their songs. I’m certainly not saying that I have boyband music on my Spotify playlist… Okay, if I’m being completely honest there may be a few Backstreet or New Kids songs there, but this music/entertainment phenomenon has shown lasting endurance and I unabashedly admit, it is a genre that has held my attention for almost 50 years.

My boyband admiration, adoration and aspirations probably started with The Osmond Brothers and Jackson 5. As an elementary and junior high school student, with no real academic proclivity, I remember watching American Bandstand and Soul Train, not to mention a host of evening variety shows (Sonny & Cher, Flip Wilson, Tony Orlando & Dawn, etc.), and thinking it would be so cool to be singing and dancing my way through life.

As a member of a boyband, I would travel the world applying my craft, while making huge amounts of money and attracting the “lose your mind” attention of the 14 – 18 year old female demographic. Sweet! I begged my parents to birth or adopt four more boys just so I could create my own family boyband in the carport of our suburban home. Two Car Garage Boys was just a working name. Their irritation with my fixation undoubtedly reached a boiling point when their talentless son sang and danced his way through little league baseball games, the school spelling bee and Cub Scouts. It sounds worse than it was, but darn it, I had a dream.

While Motown legends such as the Temptations, Smokey Robinson & The Miracles, The Four Tops, The Isley Brothers and The Spinners might have been on the older side of official boyband status, they did provide the harmonies and dance moves to make a compelling argument that they could be included in the boyband conversation. Don’t let me forget Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons, who while they did originally play instruments, this New York based quartet could get down with the best of them. Most of the guys in these 60s and 70s groups grew up together and honed their vocal stylings around a street lamp or in church. These pioneering groups proved to have the right assemblage of talent, looks, sweet dance moves and a swooning female fan base to inspire a rebirth in the genre and the formation of later boybands.

Today’s biggest music sensation is BTS, also known as “Bandtan Boys,” a seven- member boyband from South Korea. They recently appeared on Saturday Night Live and Lorne Michaels was quoted as saying this was the most popular music act SNL has had in the last 20 years. When you think of boybands, you instinctively go right away to *NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, New Kids on the Block, One Direction, 98 Degrees, New Edition (which spawned Bel Biv Devoe), Boys II Men and Nickelodeon’s Big Time Rush. Every member of every group has probably made millions of dollars and yet many still perform and tour even though most of the members are now men in their 40s.

Needless to say, I use the term “boyband” very loosely. The only time a boyband ever breaks up is when a member becomes so popular they don’t need to split up the pot anymore…. Justin Timberlake. Some get hot for a while—Bobby Brown and Nick Lachey—but they always come back when that popularity fades. Others, like One Direction, who it should be pointed out never took up the choreographed dance moves, are currently on a long hiatus without actually saying they broke up. I give it another 12-18 months before their reunion tour. On the other hand, *NSYNC will probably never get back together given the global musical/acting and SNL hosting appeal of the previously mentioned JT, Justin Timberlake.

An Orlando, Florida based (PT Barnum type) promotor named Lou Perlman was the opportunistic mastermind behind the meteoritic boyband popularity of The Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and O-Town. Perlman, who it was later determined made his money operating a long running investment Ponzi scheme that would later send him to prison, was fascinated by the success of New Kids on the Block. Around 1993, with little more than a $3 million initial investment, Perlman ran an open audition/talent show to recruit five teenagers who ultimately became the Backstreet Boys who went on to sell over 130 million albums.

Several years later, Perlman struck gold again with the formation of *NSYNC who sold over 70 million records. Perlman even co-wrote a bestselling book Bands, Brands and Billions before his legal troubles began. Among an assortment of misdeeds, Perlman was sued by virtually every band he discovered and managed for misappropriation of funds and other related offenses. Would you believe, contractually, he was a sixth member of both BSB and *NSYNC collecting royalties in addition to management and agent commissions? Sadly, or not, he died in prison at the age of 62.

With all due respect to the guys, there have been a fair share of pretty terrific girl bands over the years too including Destiny’s Child (featuring the young Queen B), TLC, En Vogue, The Spice Girls, The Pussycat Dolls and Fifth Harmony, to name just a few. Even before those groups came into popularity there was The Pointer Sisters, Sister Sledge and Wilson Phillips. I give it up to these fiercely talented women, but other than that one confusing year in high school, I never dreamed of being in a girl band. Historical recognition should also be made to the girl groups of the 60s including The Supremes, The Shirelles, the Shangri-Las, The Marvelettes and The Ronettes. I guess you could also include The Lennon Sisters who found fame on The Lawrence Welk Show. Just to answer the question, no, I did now watch LW, but my Dad liked the show.  

Despite giving up a lot of their childhoods in exchange for fame and fortune, you don’t hear of too many former boyband members going off the deep end and ruining their lives through drugs, crime or college admission cheating scandals. Oh sure, Joey Fatone of *NSYNC was dressed as a rabbit on the reality show, The Masked Singer, but it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Drew Lachey from 98 Degrees won season two of Dancing with the Stars while his brother, Nick, hosted several music related reality shows. BSB, Kevin Richardson (Chicago), *NSYNCer Joey Fatone (Little Shop of Horrors and Rent) and NKOTB member Joey McIntyre (The Fantasticks) have all appeared in Broadway Musicals. As far as the silver screen, Michael Jackson appeared as the Scarecrow in The Wiz, a 1978 musical adaption of The Wizard of Oz. More recently, Justin Timberlake of *NSYNC had shown his acting chops in numerous flicks including Alpha Dog, Trouble with the Curve and The Social Network. Ralph Tresvant of New Edition played Sam Cooke in the biopic Get on Up. Donnie Wahlberg of NKOTB appeared in The Sixth Sense and is a regular cast member in the CBS series Blue Bloods. Just last year, Harry Styles of One Direction was in the World War II epic, Dunkirk. Kudos to the casting directors who saw the ability to capitalize on the popularity of these multi-talented heartthrobs. Acting was not even a consideration in my boyband pursuits. Perhaps it should have been.

There seems to be a resurgence in popularity in the 80s boybands and many of these acts will be touring this summer. Both New Kids on the Block and Backstreet Boys have both had extended residencies at major venues in Las Vegas.

While my dreams of achieving boyband status were never recognized, I always appreciated the talent, hard work and dedication that went into these groups long running successes. I wish these men continued health, happiness and prosperity even if it does come across a little creepy. Don’t judge me.

You can’t tell the players without a program.

BTS – V, J-hope, RM, Jin, Jimin, Jungkook and Suga

New Kids On The Block – Donnie, Joey, Danny, Jordan and Jonathan

Backstreet Boys – Nick, AJ, Kevin, Brian and Howie

NSYNC – Justin, JT, Lance, Joey and Chris

New Edition – Bobby, Ricky, Ralph, Ronnie and Michael

Bel Biv Devoe – Ricky, Michael and Ronnie

O-Town – Erik-Michael, Trevor, Jacob and Dan

Boys to Men – Nathan, Shawn, Wanya and Michael

98 Degrees – Nick, Drew, Justin and Jeff

One Direction – Harry, Louie, Zayn, Liam and Niall

Big Tim Rush – Kendall, James, Logan and Carlos

Osmond Brothers – Donnie, Alan, Wayne, Merrill and Jay
Jackson 5 – Michael, Jackie, Jermaine, Tito and Marlon

The Rain in Spain

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An Unofficial and Unauthorized International Writing Assignment

Virtually all, meaning none, of my loyal readers know that my oldest daughter, Hannah, is studying abroad this semester in Barcelona. That’s in Spain. Being the opportunist I am, I approached Eric “Chief” Johnson at ALIVE about the possibility of another all-expenses paid boondoggle to wrap up my travel trilogy chronicling my food and alcohol consumption in another country. 

In the summer of 2017, I convinced my naïve editor that we, meaning I, should be tasked to write a European travel log article to follow up my American beer piece. My International Pub Crawl piece, highlighting suds tasting in the countries of England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales was critically acclaimed and garnered numerous awards at the RIMAS – Regional Independent Magazine Awards Show. I’m kind of a big deal there.

The pub crawl piece was followed up by my I am the Last Emperor blockbuster article chronicling my tour of China during the spring of 2018. The beer was pretty bad, however, the travels through such a majestic country were life changing. I walked on the Great Wall, I walked the halls of the Imperial Palace and I walked the pits of the terracotta warriors along with the streets of Shanghai and Beijing. Obviously, I did a lot of walking on that trip, but that article walked me right into another big night at the RIMAs. Imagine Michael Jordon in his prime and you start to get the picture.

That leads us to my editorial staff pitch about a little wine tasting adventure in Barcelona. My pitch angle was that while Californian’s have been conditioned to overpay for mediocre red, white and rose wines, just because they’re from Napa, Sonoma or Pasa Robles, a lot of European wines and more specifically, Espana wines, are very affordable and mucho delicioso. That’s Spanish for “really good.”  When Chief asked to see my corporate credit card, I was assuming it was just to check the expiration date, instead he cut it in half and said, “Ace, your traveling days on the magazine’s nickel are over.”  What a buzzkill! Knowing that I had another RIMA award in me, I decided to renew my passport and fund the trip on my own.

Departing from SFO on American Airlines, I knew that the airline wouldn’t have the best wine selection in the world, but when you’re traveling in the premium economy section, the vino is free flowing. The on-flight sommelier suggested we pair a lovely cab with our tasty bag of pretzels entree. A few more tiny bottles of this demure wine allowed us to drift off to sleep organically on our transatlantic flight. Next stop… Barcelona.

Sunday, our first official day in Hannah’s new country, was a rental car road trip to Cadaques, a delightful seaside town about two hours outside of town. We arrived around noon and immediately sampled a few tapas dishes (tapas is Spanish for a small savory dish). Given that it was a beautiful, sunny day sitting on the beachfront patio of a popular restaurant, we shared a pitcher of sangria while staring at the Mediterranean Sea.  I’m not a big sangria fan, but, “when in Rome,” although by Rome I mean Barcelona. That night, back in Barcelona, we had our first paella meal of the trip, along with a half bottle of both red and white wine, at a nice family eatery that was but a mere Metro ride away from our hotel.  

Monday was all about the hop on/hop off bus tour of the city. We saw every part of Barcelona including Park Guell and C.C Arenas Barcelona, where the professional soccer team FC Barcelona plays. We saw the Olympic Village, the Palau Nacional, the Torry Agbar, Placa Toros Monumental – where they once held actual bull fights before they outlawed bull fighting and turned it into a shopping mall. Shopping can be a lot like a bull fight if there’s a good sale going.  The tour ended as we passed the Christopher Columbus monument near the Waterfront – which included the historic Old Port. We got off the bus at the Plaza Catalunya, which is the prime shopping district. It’s a combination of Union Square (SF) meets Michigan Avenue (Chicago) with a little 5th Avenue (NYC) mixed into Downtown Disney.

That night, after striking out at the first two restaurants we visited, we settled on a Spanish/Greek place and were very pleased with the selection…of wines.  Leaning toward a bold red, we ordered the Marques de Cacares and five straws. I’m only kidding, we only had four straws.

Tuesday we visited the prime landmark in Barcelona, the fabulous Basilica of the Sagrada Familia designed by Antoni Gaudi. This rather large Catholic basilica, because Barcelona already had a cathedral, began construction in 1882 and is expected to be completed by 2026. Like most construction projects, they are slightly behind schedule. After taking a couple photos—a couple hundred, to be precise—we grabbed some lunch before venturing over to our daughter’s apartment in the El Camp de L’Alpa del Clot district. Clot is a quieter part of the city, but it’s a short walk to the Universidad Autonoma de Barcelona where my little girl is attending classes. Imagine if Hogwarts were a commuter school and you’ll get a fitting visual. Luckily I was able to find a school t-shirt in a nearby store, which is a “must have” for any collegiate visit.

 

Being a beautiful evening, we took a friend’s suggestion and dined outside at a wonderful restaurant that served, of all things, wine. We stuck with an assortment of tapas dishes and a bottle of Bodegas Vega Sicilia Unico Tinto 2007. I’m only kidding; that wine is $350 a bottle. We stuck with a few pitchers of inexpensive Sangria.

Wednesday was a beach day as we walked the Passeig Maritim de la Barceloneta. Talk about a collection of luxury yachts in the harbor. My yacht would seem compact by comparison. From there, we made our way over to the Gothic district (my favorite part of the city). We started at the Cathedral de Barcelona and then strolled the Passeig de Lluis Companys making our way to the Arc de Triomf. My travel party did their share of shopping in and around the Del Mercat de Santa Caterina which is an intriguing mosaic-tiled, wavy rooftop marketplace that does not sale meerkats. Too bad, those little critters crack me up. Mercat translated is market.

For dinner, we chose a cool split-level restaurant, somewhere near our hotel. We entertained one of Hannah’s friends from school by sharing a crisp bottle of white—Martin Codax Arbarino, and a spicy bottle of red—Oro Bailen Reserva.  Dinner was muchas tapas and paella, and dessert was gelato. I was very full walking back to the hotel. Thankfully I brought along my after-dinner lounging pants with an elastic waistband.

Thursday started with a short Metro ride and about an hour train ride to get us to Parc Natural de la Muntana and the Santa Maria de Montserra Abby and Basilica de Montserrat. This is a monastery and basilica built high, high, high up in the mountain with a hairy gondola ride to get to our destination. Luckily the monks served a Marques de Caceres Rioja to calm the nerves of all gondola riders. The grounds are truly amazing, especially given what it must have taken to build a town in the side of a rock mountain. Sadly, I’m guessing that many donkeys lost their lives hauling building materials 4,055 feet above the valley floor. Apparently, donkeys don’t like to ride in gondolas.  

That night, for a change of pace, we ate at a lively Mexican restaurant that was filled with college students from all over the United States. I can’t say for sure that their margaritas were made of Spanish wine, but after the 5th or 6th it really didn’t matter. The meal was delicious, and it was enjoyable watching all the kids having so much fun. That place will be crazy on Cinco de Mayo.

Friday started with a visit to the public market called Mercat St. Josep La Boqueria. We followed our un-Safeway like grocery shopping expedition with a cooking class led by the renowned chef, Carlos Aviles. The culinary excursion was enchanting, however the Paella de Marisco (sea food paella) was a little too fishy for my In-N-Out burger-munching pallet. As instructed, because we were in a classroom setting, we washed down our comida (food) creations with a few glasses of Gran Feudo, a tangy white wine. We finished the day with a ramble down Las Ramblas, the popular retail promenade. Needless to say, after a decadent afternoon of eating and drinking our self-created Michelin star meal, we opted for a simple dinner of flat bread pizza and a splash of Campo Viejo Tempranillo.

It was wonderful seeing our daughter in her 3rd home surroundings and Barcelona is a truly amazing city worthy of a visit. While we were expecting rain during our visit, because, well you know…. the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain, we were treated with beautiful weather throughout our weeklong visit.

I’m wrapping this piece up as I peruse the isles of BevMo looking for a couple of Spanish wines to add to our tapas-size wine collection. While I won’t be craving paella for a while, I will enjoy a sassy glass of La Riojo Alta Grand Reserva as I download my photos from a wonderful trip to Barca. That’s how the locals refer to the town and Hannah is a local now.

It’s Tough to be a Kid Today

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I don’t think I would make it as a kid today. For starters, I’m terrible at video games. Unless I’m mistaken, the only way to be accepted by a middle school pack of boys is to be a proficient gamer. There is a plethora of other challenges that the kids (more specifically boys) contend with daily, which leads me to believe that most of us who grew up in the 70s and 80s couldn’t hack it in today’s world. My guess is virtually all of us would crumble like a high protein energy bar if we were to somehow spend time as a middle school student today with a junior high school student mentality or frame of reference from yester-year.

My Isaac Newton Graham Junior High School days were filled with school, friends, sports, girls/hormones, TV, family, and my neighborhood. I lived a typical suburban life similar to the one described in Steve Rushin’s book Sting-Ray Afternoons. My unofficial book review rates this a must read for anyone 50 to 60 years of age.

School is a lot tougher than it used to be. There’s more pressure than ever to deliver good grades and establish good study habits straight out of elementary school. Most of my buddies and I pretty much skated through the 7th and 8th grade on our wit and good looks. We all thought you didn’t really need to apply yourself until high school. Nowadays, you would think your kid’s middle school grades are part of their UC college admission application. “Sorry Mike, you’re just not UCLA material due to that “C” you got in 7th grade woodshop class.”  Candidly, I was never UCLA material.

Grant H, 8th Grade Los Cerros Middle School: There’s a lot of pressure to do good in school and it’s tough juggling school with sports and everything else. There’s always a lot of work to stay up on and you can’t afford to get behind if you want to maintain good grades.

Kevin A. 8th grader at Harvest Park Middle School. School puts a lot of pressure on all of us. It’s not just from parents and teachers. There’s a lot of competition with friends at school. Everybody wants to do well at school, sports and everything to prepare for high school.

In our day, it was the jocks and cheerleaders who ran the school, but today, its science and mathaletes who call the shots. Future app developers and start-up entrepreneurs control the lunchroom power as they offer stock options for early VC funding.

Sports –Dressing for PE was mandatory in the 70s and it didn’t take long to figure out who the alpha males were based on their size, speed and skill set. Guys like Russell Peoples, Frank Dowse, Ron Mendez, Mike Lara were feared and revered due to their superior athletic abilities. PE class, after school sports, and neighborhood pick-up games taught us the importance of teamwork, communication, time management, and conflict resolution. It seems today, boys are either over-committed with overlapping team activities or they can opt out of sports for any variety of reasons including anxiety, stress or having an allergic reaction to AXE body spray. A lot of tween-age boys’ idea of exercise in 2019 is playing FORTNITE online.

Reilly G., 8th Grade at Charlotte Wood Middle School. There’s always pressure at school because we have so much going on after school. I often feel overworked and tired because I go from one thing to another without a lot of down time.

Friends are often our lifeline during the turbulent times of adolescence. Keeping in mind that my middle school years took place shortly after the very first video game (Pong) was released, unlike today’s youth, my gang of hooligans didn’t let it take over our lives. Jeff, Derek, Mark, Luis and I chose to occupy our after school and weekend hours with an assortment of neighborhood games (tag, hide and seek and doorbell ditch) along with riding our bikes. “Be home by dark” was my mom’s go-to line as I headed out the door. I liked that line much better than “Just wait until your father gets home.”  I had a paper route with the San Jose Mercury News to make a little spending money. Kids today probably don’t know what a newspaper is let alone the notion of folding, packing and throwing them at houses from a moving bicycle. Do kids even ride bicycles anymore or do they rely on Uber to get them everywhere even if it’s just a few blocks away? A bike used to mean freedom and independence. That said, my Uber driver’s name was “Mom” and she always helped me deliver my newspapers on rainy days.

Cooper P. 8th grader at St. Isidore School. I love the time away from school when I get to work out in the gym. The more you put into it the more the more you get out of it. The trainers at Cal Strength really help you to learn the proper techniques to help you reach your goals.

Girls or just an attraction to someone of the opposite sex (or same sex – no judgment here) is a confusing realization at any age, but in those early teen years it can be downright petrifying. Who of us understood what we were feeling or thinking, let alone the reactions our body was processing during that turbulent time of puberty? My harmless early crushes included Pam, Linda, Judy, Elise and Kristy, among others. They don’t even make names like those anymore. It’s a shame that I couldn’t bottle and sell nervous perspiration because I had plenty of that coursing over my body anytime one of those young ladies crossed by path near a locker, in the lunch line or sitting next to me in a class. Thank goodness for school dances and Forget Me Not fundraisers.

Our pre-disco era school dances were held on Friday nights and hosted live bands covering the most popular songs of The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac and Steely Dan. This was the best time to talk, flirt and interact with someone you were smitten by, but couldn’t muster the courage to approach during the typical school day. A Forget Me Not fundraiser allowed kids to send flowers or candy to someone during sixth period, usually around a holiday like Halloween, Christmas or Valentine’s Day. Thankfully, we could also send an anonymous FMN to a special friend we might be “crushing” on. Even though none of the girls mentioned above were ever interested in me, they probably all received a carnation or candy cane from me with a note signed Your Secret Admirer. Today, that would be grounds for expulsion for expressing unwanted attention, but back then it was just “sweet.”

Hannah O., 8th grader at St. Isidore School. Some boys are really immature and some are nice and polite. Our school doesn’t allow us to use phones on campus so it kind of forces us to talk to each other more, but all of the boys are obsessed with video games and that’s all they ever talk about.

Television is obsolete. Despite having hundreds of mainstream and cable channels to select from, most kids don’t seem to have time for television. As a kid, I spent way too many hours in front of a TV. I don’t want to brag, but we had two TVs in our house, one color and one black and white. Today, on the rare occasion when kids do have down time, they stream Netflix on their computer or phone in the privacy of their bedrooms. Our TV viewing was always in the family room, usually with Mom and Dad as company. Programs such as MASH, Good Times and Happy Days have been replaced by the likes of Stranger Things, The Walking Dead and Ridiculousness. I would gladly trade being the human remote for a little me time.

Social Media –Since texting has replaced talking, I would first need to become immersed in social media for all my communication needs. Every middle schooler today seems to have an Apple iPhone 10X, Apple Watch and wireless Apple ear buds and I’m barely able to operate my two-year-old iPhone 6 without having to ask my teenage daughter how to insert a smiley face emoji in a text. I long for the days when my entire family shared one landline with a very long extension cord for those private closet conversations. I’ve already written about the fear every teen boy had when calling a girl’s house and getting her dad on the line. I still break out in a sweat thinking about Mr. Boudreau’s phone interrogations and I’m older now then he was then. What type of trouble would I have gotten into with Snap Chat or Instagram you ask? Trust me, you don’t even want to know.

I get the impression that kids are under a lot of pressure these days. Pressure to do well in school, excel in sports or other extracurricular activities, and even social media pressure. I’m sure we had pressures too, although for the life of me I can’t remember what they might have been. I think of the wasted days and fun filled nights we had and I feel bad that kids today don’t know what it’s like to have that type of freedom. It’s a different time and I get the impression it’s much tougher to be a kid today.

Where Does the Time Go?

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It is often said that time flies when you’re having fun, but I’m finding that it flies even when I’m not having fun. Time flies when I’m happy or sad, busy or bored, burdened or carefree, having the time of my life or writing another article for ALIVE. By the time you read this article, it will be Valentine’s Day. I haven’t even taken down my Christmas tree and now it’s time for flowers, cards, chocolates, jewelry, fine wine, and fancy dinners out. Just for the record, I’m always very appreciative of any of these romantic gifts and gestures from my loyal readers. Don’t be shy.

It seems like just yesterday, we were celebrating Hanukah, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve. For me that’s especially true as the Chief sets my deadlines unrealistically early for the magazine so here I am on January 2nd trying to come up with a piece for the February issue. That said, time has a way of speeding up when we most need it to slow down. I only got 24 hours yesterday, how many did you get?

In the song Young Turks, Rod Stewart sang, “Because life is so brief and time is a thief when you’re undecided. And like a fistful of sand, it can slip right through your hands.” That Rod is deep.

Growing up, time moved at what seemed like a normal pace. Days were from sun up to sun down, evenings and weekends were leisurely, summer vacation from school was a legit twelve weeks, and it seemed like forever until Christmas or my next birthday rolled around. I never thought much about time as a kid and yet time is a constant topic of conversation as an adult.

In the song, Time Stands Still, by Rush, Geddy Lee sang, “Time stands still, I’m not looking back, but I want to look around me now. Time stands still, see more of the people and the places that surround me now.” Geddy could be very introspective. Probably because he’s from Canada.  

Once I became an adult, time seemed to speed up. It started a little at a time, but days, weeks and months all started to go by a little quicker. A busy workweek would fly by in the blink of an eye. A weeklong vacation would feel like it was over before it even started. Every six-month dental check up and teeth cleaning seemed to arrive before I got into a regular flossing routine. 

In the song Time is on My Side, by the Rolling Stones, Mick sang, “Time, time, time is on my side, yes it is, I said time, time, time is on my side, yes it is, I said time, time, time is on my side.” We get it Mick. He’s always been more than a little conceited.

When I became a young parent, when my children were newborns and then toddlers, each day seemed to last forever, but somehow we started going through calendars at a rapid pace. As someone once said about having children, “The days are long and the years fly by.” No truer words have ever been spoken. Then, the next thing I knew, my kids were teenagers and I worried about them all the time. They were also so busy I barely had enough time to get anything done outside of keeping them on schedule.

When we were attending the kids’ sporting events, a swim meet or equestrian horse competition seemed to wipe out an entire weekend. I once saw a t-shirt that read, “If I only had one day left to live, I’d want to spend it at a swim meet because that feels like the longest day on earth.” Take it from me, a horse show feels even longer.

Now my wife and I are empty nesters. Where did the time go? With our two girls away at college, time has new meaning. There’s way too much time between visits, but time goes by pretty quickly just trying to keep up with tuition and other expenses.

In the song Time in a Bottle, Jim Croce sang, “There never seems to be enough time, to do the things you want to do. I’ve looked around enough to know, that you’re the one I want to go, through time with.” Jim sure knew how to sweet-talk a lady.

In the song, (I’ve had) The Time of My Life, Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes sang, “Now I’ve had the time of my life/ No, I never felt like this before/ Yes I swear it’s the truth/ And I owe it all to you. Cause I’ve had the time of my life and I owe it all to you.” I still get goose bumps picturing Baby and Johnny tearing up the Catskills banquet room with their provocative dance moves.

At work, a day can fly by or it drag out forever. When we’re busy, there’s never enough time and when it’s slow, there’s too much time. Days lead to weeks, weeks to months and then another year is gone. Because a majority of us work to live and not live to work, the workday can’t end soon enough to enjoy the quality time we all want, need and crave.

In the song, Long Time, by Boston, the band sang, “It’s been such a long time/I think I should be goin’, yeah time doesn’t wait for me, it keeps on rollin’. And then, Well, I’m takin’ my time, I’m just movin’ on, you’ll forget about me after I’ve been gone. And I take what I find, I don’t want no more; it’s just outside of our front door.“ Those 80’s bands were full of long haired guys that just lived for the moment.

The one and only exception I can come up with to time moving too rapidly is probably “doing time.”  You know, jail time. Being locked-up, aka doing time in the big house, the joint, hoose-gow or the gray bar hotel. However you want to phrase it, prison time has got to be the most difficult, surreal time experience a person can face. I’ve seen The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile, Escape from Alcatraz and The Longest Yard so I know. Doing time seems like just that: doing it. Not spending time, not killing time, not even wasting time. Time has got to take on a completely different meaning when you’re locked in a cell.

In the song, Cats in the Cradle Harry Chapin sings the ultimate song about the passage of time as it relates to parenting. I would go on, but it chokes me up every time I hear it and a writer never cries. 

In the song, Does Anyone Really Know What Time It Is, by the band Chicago, the guys sang, “As I was walking down the street one day, a man came up to me and asked me what the time was that was on my watch and I said…Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care? If so I can’t imagine why/we’ve all got time enough to cry.” Personally, I don’t usually cry when I look at my Timex, but the band sure sold a crap ton of records with that line.

As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, knowing that Groundhog Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Passover/Easter, National Puppy Day, the First Day of Spring, Spring Break, Daylight Savings, and Mother’s Day are right around the corner, take time to smell the roses. Slow things down enough to enjoy the moment. Stop rushing around long enough to savor the time spent with family and friends or doing something that you love. We only get so much time in our life, so don’t waste it.

In the song Time after Time, Cyndi Lauper sang, “Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after time, Time after, Time”. I don’t know about you, but I find Cyndi to be a bit repetitive.  

The Magic Words

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Growing up, the words Please and Thank You were the “magic words.” If you wanted something you said, “please” and if you got something, you said “thank you”. To six- year-old me, that made perfect sense. Hell, to 56 year old me, it’s still makes perfect sense. These are common courtesy, common decency, common sense, words that are the foundation of life lessons. I’m just troubled that these words, not to mention a boat load of other words, phrases, expressions, are not being instilled in our children any longer. I beat those words, and others, into my daughters growing up and when I say “beat” it into them, I hope everyone knows I meant that in a metaphorical way. We practiced saying please and thank you the same way we practiced breathing. Has it become too much to say please and thank you, let alone excuse me or ex-squeeze me?


The word “please” is quiet pleasing to the ear. Please is a gracious way of requesting someone’s participation. Please pass me the salt; please pick up your toys; please take a seat; please make your bed; please don’t torment you sister; please drop my clothes off at the dry cleaner; please sir may I have some more; please please me; or please don’t eat the daisies. Please accept this article as the best I could do given how far past the deadline I am this month. Please is an enchanting word.

The words “thank” and “you,” standing alone, are just two little words, but together they show appreciation, thoughtfulness and gratitude. Thank you for your business; than you for waiting; thank you for seeing me; thank you for coming; thank you for the gift; thank you for the donation; thank you for the help; thank you for remembering; thank you for calling; thank you for the great service; thank you sir may I have another, or thank you for writing such a well thought out and slightly humorous article. Thank you is also endearing word.

Just of the record, excuse me is a polite expression, however ex-squeeze me is just fun to say—as long as it’s not taken in a sexually harassing, “me too,” way. If I’ve offended anyone, please excuse my oafish insensitivity and accept my heartfelt apology. Thank you.

When you think about the obvious times a please or thank you might be appropriate, my best advice is to start at home. Appreciate your partner for everything he, she or they do around the house. We can all fall into a rut or routine where we have our chores and they have theirs, but it never hurts to drop a please or thank you every once in awhile. It might cause someone to fall off their chair or question their hearing if they haven’t heard those words in months or maybe years. The reaction might be worth the effort alone. “Honey, thank you for washing and folding my socks and t-shirts. You really get those stains out,” or, “Sugar, would you please let me know if my flatulence bothers you tonight. I really shouldn’t have had the bean casserole.”  Once you’ve started to make progress at home, initiate the same game plan at work.

Has a magazine column writer ever received a YELP review? Yikes, that might be asking for trouble. I think YELP is a worthwhile website/app, but it’s not just for complaining. I probably post 7-8 positive YELP reviews to every 1-2 negative. I love recognizing good service and YELP is just one more way of saying thank you to an employee or company for exceptional service. Too many YELP trolls love blasting out negative reviews just for the exposure or attention. Lets all make a pledge to post at least one YELP review that’s positive/appreciative. Me first – I would like to thank Belinda in Macy’s accounting department for her excellent custom service in helping me resolve an overcharge for delivery. Belinda was professional, responsive, helpful, compassionate and a real problem solver. I wish more call center employees were like Miss Belinda at Macy’s, but please take the time to point out when someone does so that it might encourage others to train and implement better service.

It goes without saying that military personnel, first responders (law enforcement, firemen and paramedics) and teachers should always be thanked. They are the backbone of our society and without these brave souls on the front lines our country could fall into a state of bedlam, chaos or civil unrest. At the same time, on a completely different level, please recognize the unsung heroes that don’t get the recognition they deserve. Likewise, all veterans, and also public transportation (BART, bus and ferry) drivers, mail carriers, hospice workers and some politicians, as well as volunteers at every level: food banks, Meals on Wheels, charity fun runs, and youth sports programs are indebted to their volunteer work force.

As a former soccer, softball, baseball, football coach and swim team president, your kid’s leagues and teams wouldn’t exist without a dedicated group of parents who give countless hours to these programs. That’s not to say there aren’t occasional issues or problems, but suffice it to say 20% of the parents do 80% of the work to keep the subject sport operating. I’ve heard a lot of complaints in my day that never started with a “please” or ended with a “thank you.” It’s easy to be negative without any constructive ideas or personal commitment to resolve the problems. In my first-hand experience, organizations such as the San Ramon Valley Girls Athletic League (“SRVGAL softball”), Mustang Soccer and the San Ramon Valley Thunderbirds football and cheer programs are staffed by a lot of wonderfully dedicated volunteer parents who are involved for all the right reasons and those individuals deserve an occasional please and thank you. The same goes for all the volunteer parents who serve in scouting programs—both girls and boys.

So, I’ve been on my soapbox for about two hours now trying to craft a positive and yet poignant first article of the New Year. I’m far from the ideal role model and yet, I do try to practice what I preach. Please and thank you were once the norm; the basics every child was taught by parents who saw the value in manners and behavior. Don’t let these magic words die out with so many other life lessons that have fallen by the wayside. It’s too easy to blame social media or the millennial generation.

Let’s all take responsibility to please revitalize the basics in the New Year. Thank you.

Finding the Holiday Spirit

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Truth be told, as an empty nester, I find it difficult to get into the holiday spirit without listening to my Harry Connick Jr. Christmas CD while sipping on a little eggnog Moscow Mule holiday liquid cheer, if you know what I mean. Unless you have small children in your home or a workshop full of elves, maybe a reindeer or two, the holiday spirit can be a bit hard to come by for us grown-ups.

Here is my Top 10 list of activities and outings to put yourself in the holiday spirit or drive yourself to the brink of Mistletoe Madness. It could go either way.

#10, Holiday Shows: Watching one of the thousands of holiday movies or television programs can really kick off the holiday season. Who doesn’t enjoy their 50th viewing of Santa Clause is Coming to Town, Frosty the Snowman, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, Elf, It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Carol, The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, Little Drummer Boy, A Charlie Brown Christmas, The Santa Clause (1, 2 & 3), The Polar Express, Home Alone, Bad Santa, Shrek the Halls, NBC’s Tree Lighting from Rockefeller Center and every cheesy holiday movie on the Hallmark Channel from November 1st through New Year’s Day? I especially enjoy stringing cranberries while I watch my holiday shows (NOT), but a little liquid cheer will add to the holiday spirit.

#9, Ice skating (outdoors): There isn’t enough peppermint fudge in this world to get me to ice skate at my age, I’ve got bills to pay and I don’t mean medical bills. I can’t afford to be laid up for a couple of months with a broken ankle or bruised glute muscle. However, going to an outdoor skating rink to watch other people fall down on the cement-hard ice is a lot of fun. The music, the merriment and the cool crisp air can set a joyful mood. Cups of warm cocoa or cider, with a little liquid cheer, will certainly add to the holiday spirit. 

#8, Caroling: Organizing a neighborhood caroling cavalcade is a dandy way to get into the spirit of the holiday. What’s a cavalcade? It’s a procession. Work with me people. It’s safe to say, we all know most of the words to every holiday song; Jingle Bells, Oh Come All Ye Faithful, Deck the Halls, Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, Silent Night, Santa Claus is Coming to Town, Oh Holy Night, Hells Bells (just kidding, that’s my favorite AC/DC song) and Joy to the World. Dress warm, wear sensible shoes and bring along a little liquid cheer to enliven theholiday spirit.

#7, Baking: Nothing says “holidays” more than a house wafting with the delightful odor coming from an oven full of homemade cookies, pumpkin bread, peppermint bark, fudge, biscotti, or a life-size Gingerbread House. It certainly helps mask the offensive odor coming from a backed-up bathroom following a toilet-clogging relative’s annual visit. If nothing else, invest in the new Febreze holiday baking scent. A little liquid cheer will undoubtedly add to the holiday spirit and baking creativity.

#6, Decorating (indoors): Deck the halls baby. I’m not saying that everyone’s indoor holiday decorating needs to be over the top, but how about getting in the spirit with a few twinkling lights and shiny ornaments on a tree or bush for starters? From there, do as little or as much as your heart desires. Personally, I like pasting copy paper scissor-cut icicles on the windows and dangling mistletoe over every arch or doorway, but that’s just me. I find that a little liquid cheer will add to the holiday spirit.

#5, Decorating (outdoors): Regardless if you live in a house, apartment, townhouse, condo, mobile home, or tent, deck the yard baby. Assuming you follow HOA guidelines, string your lights, arrange a nativity scene and plug in your blow-ups to create an outdoor winter wonderland. Electricity and ladders don’t always mix well with libations, trust me I know, so maybe wait until your Griswold Holiday Vacation light display is completed until you enjoy a little liquid cheer which will add to the holiday spirit.

If you really want to experiencea little light bulb envy, visit the Vista San Ramon sub-division in San Ramon (across from Central Park) or the house at 108 Dana Highlands Court in Danville (Woodranch Sub-division). I’m pretty sure Santa sees these two locations from 30,000 feet up when he’s dropping into the Bay Area on Christmas Eve. I also bet they get a really special holiday card from PG&E every year.

#4, Holiday Cards: Addressing and mailing your holiday cards to friends and family is another annual tradition. Due in large part to Shutterfly’s brilliant guilt- focused marketing campaign, personal photocards long ago overtook the popularity of traditional Hallmark card with a Thomas Kinkade image. Part of the holiday merriment is trying to coordinate an acceptable family photo even if your family simply consists of you and your turtle. Once you have that perfect Kodak moment image, complete with clever saying, “From our home to yours,” addressing the envelopes can take longer than the 12 days of Christmas. As for the envelope, I like to go with a seasonal postage stamp and the cutesy holiday return address stickers that come in every fundraising request envelope I’ve received the year before. A little liquid cheer will add to the holiday spirit and deaden the envelope licking aftertaste.

#3, Visiting Santa Claus: I haven’t sat on Santa’s lap sinceI was 7 or 8…teen, but if you really want to get in the spirit, plan a visit to Stoneridge Mall or Broadway Plaza to chat with the jolly, white bearded, present granter (or some reasonable likeness). Let’s assume, for argument sake, you’re taking your kids or grandkids, or someone’s kids—hopefully with their permission—to also get a photo with Kris Kringle. For only $99.99, you can get a complete picture set, ornament, and mug of someone either crying or screaming. Don’t laugh, it might be you. I don’t recommend that you add liquid cheer tothis event as a public intoxication charge or DUI could really dampen the holiday spirit for everyone.  

#2, White Elephant Gift Exchange: It doesn’t matter if it’s your office mates, friends, family, neighbors or cell block, a white elephant gift exchange is almost always fun and festive—that is, unless someone gives you an actual white elephant because those albino pachyderms can really trash your backyard. Having a theme to your gift exchange can add to the shenanigans, but let’s keep it PC for fear of offending the seasonal morality police. Liquidcheer is a wonderful theme because, as I like to say, “a little liquid cheer will add to the holiday spirit.”

And the Number One (#1) way toget into the holiday spirit is: Give: Give your time or money to the less fortunate; the sad, the lonely or the hurting. Be a friend, a helper or a listener. Donate to a food bank or Toys for Tots. Purchase a pre-packed bag of groceries at Safeway, or find a family in need through a school, church or community group. It is better to give than to receive and there are a lot of homeless or sheltered families with children who could use some assistance. Lending a helping hand in some meaningful way will make everyone’s holiday brighter—including your own—and add to the holiday spirit.

The holiday spirit is in all of us. It just takes a can opener or cork screw to bring it out of some of us. Hopefully, my TopTen List of ways to find your holiday spirit will help. If not, start with the liquid cheer, but in moderation, and don’t drive.

Good tidings to you and yours this holiday season. 

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