Shaking off the rust

One of Webster’s definitions of rust is to deteriorate or spoil, as through disuse.

Over the past couple of years, my questionable public speaking skills have gone through a bit of a rusty period. Not to mire too much in the details, let’s just say I’m in a much better position to flex my once dormant public speaking muscles.

Earlier this month and this afternoon Stella got her oratory grove back.

Not exactly standing room, but a good time just the same!

No, I’m not exactly delivering a 21st century version of the Gettysburg address; it’s your basic industry-focused and community engagement stuff. If memory serves, we talked about this before.

The funny thing is that prior to this pair of presentations, I wasn’t exactly nervous, but more concerned that I’d simply lock up and forgot everything I’ve learned over the years about standing in front of audience and chatting up a topic.

I suppose that’s where the rust comes in.

You name the skill, practice or habit, if you walk away (or it’s taken away) for a period of time, it becomes necessary to jump-start the old muscle memory.

So, dear friends out there, any old skills, hobbies or pastimes that you’ve stored on the proverbial get around to it later shelf? If so, there’s no time like the present to start shaking off the rust.

Star Sightings

Who would have thought I’d be getting star struck in my old age?

At the risk of dipping my freshly French pedicured toe into the waters of discussing the ol’ 9 to 5, let’s just say there were a couple of celebrity sightings.

The first one I’ll share is the chance I had to meet Atlanta Braves President John Schuerholz.

Braves President John Schuerholz

The last time I seriously followed baseball was when I was a young Phillies fan in South Jersey watching guys like Steve Carlton, Mike Schmidt and Greg “The Bull” Luzinski.

I have to admit, it’s nice living in a major league sports market. Unlike my youth, I no longer have to cross a river – Delaware or Hudson – to catch a live sporting event.

Forgive me. I digress. Back to the photo.

Not being a huge Braves fan, I didn’t set out to meet the team prez, but he was so friendly and engaging with all of the fans in the room, I figured, what the heck – jump on in.

Strange, now that I’ve met the boss and subsequently went to a game, I’m feeling the urge to break out into a tomahawk chop!

My second brush with celebrity involves a pair of reality stars.

Real Housewives of Atlanta cast member Cynthia Bailey and her husband Peter Thomas

Real Housewives of Atlanta (which you know you watch) cast member Cynthia Bailey and her husband Peter Thomas were on hand to promote their upcoming book (which I’m not paid to promote, so if you’re interested, feel free to look it up).

This photo op started when I went up to Peter to shake his hand – it’s an over 45 rocking the bald head thing that if you’re not over 45 and rocking a bald head, you probably won’t understand – and Cynthia asked if I wanted to get a picture.

Yeah, my voice went up an octave and I went all school girl giddy as I gleefully wedged myself between the Bravo stars.

They are both very nice people – even with folks like me who aren’t exactly in their fan demographic.

And yes, I got an autograph…don’t judge!

Don’t judge

My old brown suit

I received a compliment for the suit I wore one day not too long ago. The particular suit is an old four button number that I’ve had for a little more than twenty years.

You might ask, “What’s the big deal about a twenty year old suit?” This is suit I was talked into buying. This was one of those ‘step out of your comfort zone’ moments.

Circa 1993

If memory serves, I bought the suit to celebrate a new gig.

Where to begin…

The suit is brown. Up to that point, I had always been a blue and grey guy (except for that green corduroy number I had in junior high – hey, it was the late 70s, give me a break).

The suit is pinstriped. You know what they say about stripes and husky folks. I do solids.

The suit is four buttons. Three is my max.

The suit cost almost as much as a month’s rent for the swanky one bedroom studio I called home during this period of my life.

But the biggest thing, it was probably the first time I bought a suit from a local, independent haberdasher – not a big box retailer.

I purchased this suit from Mr. Fashion. Yes, that was the name of the store and the moniker of the storeowner. Mr. Fashion was a very hip menswear store on Cookman Avenue (a once very hip street) in Asbury Park, NJ.

The owner – one Carl Williams – Mr. Fashion had a very smooth – as the kids today would say – swagger about him.

I probably wouldn’t have tiptoed out of my comfort zone on this purchase, but Mr. Fashion himself not only sold me the suit, but convinced me that I needed to have this suit.

I guess since the suit has held up after two decades and it’s drawing compliments, perhaps Mr. Fashion was right!

Ain’t it funny how sometimes good things happen when you step outside of your comfort zone? (Who knew there was a philosophical lesson to be learned in a story about a twenty year old suit?!?!?)

Spring semester awards day

I felt like a member of the paparazzi this morning during Zoe’s  fourth Grade Awards Day program. The image of all the camera, smartphone and iPad toting parents huddled strategically near the front of the auditorium like the press corps at a campaign rally added to the excitement of this end of semester ritual.

It was another outstanding year as we bid goodbye to fourth grade. Zoe is pretty casual about the whole Awards Day thing. Not to get all proud father on you, but I’m happy to see that’s she putting in the hard work for the sake of putting  in the hard work not just to pick up a handful of certificates at the end of the semester.

Of all the images I shot, this one is my favorite. Look at the smirk. You just know that poor kid is thinking there goes daddy again barreling over everyone to take my picture for the millionth time!

Yeah, I may have thrown more than a few Randy Savage elbows, but it was totally by accident. All I can say is I’m proud to use my ample proportions for good and not evil.

I guess when fifth grade rolls around, I might consider easing up on the body blocks and post myself in the back of the room with one of those long lenses like the ones you see in spy movies.

Rock on kid!

Reading is fundamental

Earlier today I finished my first volunteer year with Everybody Wins! Atlanta. This is a program that holds weekly Power Lunch sessions, where 1st through 4th grade students are paired with volunteers who serve as reading mentors.

I had the pleasure of reading with a 2nd grader from Atlanta’s Thomasville Heights Elementary School. (Editorial comment: To my out of town friends, please don’t harshly judge the entire Atlanta Public School system based on what you might have read or seen in the media.)

My mentee

I was a little rusty at first. You see my talented and gifted soon to be 5th grade daughter Zoe reads better than I do, so I don’t get much of an opportunity to read to youngsters these days.

Fortunately, it came back to me pretty quickly.

During my school days, I enjoyed reading (even that fancy Romantic stuff I had to read in college).

Thinking back to my elementary years, I can recall one or two of my classmates who could have benefitted from an opportunity to spend time with a reading mentor.

I’m never one to shy away from looking wistfully back at the good old days, and while it’s debatable whether or not we had it better back then, you certainly can’t argue about the value of this generation’s programs, especially ones like Everybody Wins! Atlanta.

I’m looking forward to the new school year!

Just Write

It’s scary that anyone would come to me for advice. Such has been the case recently. A couple of friends have asked me about blogging. How do you get started, what sites to use, what topics to address, etc.

Made me wonder, maybe I should share some thoughts on jumping into the world of blogging.

First of all, for those folks looking to turn a buck or make a living off of their blog, I ain’t the one to talk to. Selling ads, generating an audience that will click on said ads is an entirely different area and not my bag. There is a world of smarter (or so they might think), more entrepreneurial folks out there waiting for you to Google them. If that’s the route you’re considering – Dominus vobiscum, and don’t forget your buddy once you’ve been acquired by some big media conglomerate.

If you want to take on blogging as a hobby or if you’re looking for an outlet for your thoughts or if you just want to comment on things in more than 142 characters, then we can chat.

Image courtesy Wikipedia

What worked for me (yikes) nearly four years ago when I started this experiment — and what still works — is simply sit down and just write. Sure, it’s good to have a focus. Focus and direction will come, but you have nothing if you don’t first get the words out of your head and onto the page. Don’t get hung up on templates, fonts, widgets and – for goodness sake – tracking page views.

Just write!

If you have (warning: quasi-buzzword) compelling images, go ahead and include them. But it’s not necessary.

Just write!

Don’t worry about being funny, ironic, edgy or entertaining. Besides, you probably already are and just don’t realize it.

Just write!

Don’t write about things that will get you in trouble – work (unless you’re being paid and authorized in writing to do so. Seriously! Think I’m kidding?), detailed family issues, or your annoying neighbor down the block who doesn’t pick up after their knock-off toy dog. Use the common sense God gave you and…

Just write!

Don’t forget, this is the Internet we’re taking about, where people’s attention spans run shorter than Kardashian’s first marriage. Get in, get off and get out (insert smirk). I shoot for no more than 500 words. Funny how that seemed like such a daunting number in English 101 back in 82.

Don’t be a stranger. Once you get started, aim for consistency. More than a couple of blogs I follow have gone un-updated for weeks, nay, months. You know who you are and you’re missed! I try my best to check in with you at least once a week. Sometimes I fall short (like now), but I try not to let more than a couple of weeks go by without bending your ear. Forgive me for oversharing, but when you get stopped in the men’s room at the old 9:5 in mid – shall we say – stream and someone remarks about a blog post, it’s a pretty good feeling and it will inspire you to…

Just Write!

It’s easier

Every now and then, I find myself in the middle of something that triggers my latent philosophical gene.

A culinary inspired rant

Such was the case when I was adding black pepper (freshly cracked, of course) to a dish I was throwing together not too long ago.

I remembered an old Emeril tip I learned back in the 90s when they used to have non-competitive prime time cooking shows on the Food Network.

Chef Lagasse stressed that it’s important to go easy when adding seasoning to a dish, because it’s easier to add seasoning than it is to take it away.

Which got me to thinking — in what other aspects of life might this rule or a slight variation thereof fit?

Here’s a small, very random list. You might have others:

• It’s easier to earn and maintain trust than it is to regain it
• It’s easier to know your limits than recover from getting in over your head (or at least it should be)
• It’s easier to put good calories in than it is to burn off bad ones
• It’s easier to make a friend than deal with an enemy
• It’s easier to smile and walk than frown and confront (well, most of the time)
• It’s easier to handle your business than it is to mind someone else’s
• It’s easier to figure out where you want to go than to find your way when you’re lost

In retrospect, this handful of lessons are things that come a bit easier for me now, in the middle ages, than they did in my not so bright and a lot less insightful youth.

I could go on (especially with another glass or two of the grape under my belt), but it’s easier to stop while I’m ahead than it is to overstay my welcome!