Honest Gratitude

My son wrote a thank you note the other day. It's the first time I ever recall him doing so for any reason to anyone. My wife teared with gratitude. I was deeply touched.

It's funny and seems natural on the face of it-- but a key tenet that we ignore to our peril.

Each of us encounters crossroads where we either embrace or ignore the little light inside. Ignore it and the next time it'll dim. Ignore it over a lifetime and one goes completely dark inside. I've met those people with black hearts. You have, too.

On the other hand, embrace the little spark, and one improves. My son probably felt good about his little note. My wife felt wonderful. I glowed with pride, and I'm sure his little siblings picked up on it, too. Maybe some unborn generations will yet read his note and be moved, too.

The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. (Cicero)

Nice work, EJ. I knew it was in ya all the time.

Dad

New Beginnings and Great Endings

"Every boy is born many men, but dies only one man."

I think like a scientist. I create like an artist. I am a musician. I write like an author: The first third (1/3) of our lives is spent learning the things we like to do, and the last two thirds (2/3rds) we spend in vain trying to find time to do them. ("The Life of Myself" ca 1983)

Thankfully I've grown to love the winnowing process. Pick the best and remove the rest. Keeping about a tenth (1/10th) of the projects or work that come across my desk, I now feel little remorse jettisoning otherwise worthwhile activities. As I remarked to my very good friend Ryan as to why I couldn't do more than 85%, "I'm only five people."

As long-ago friend Kevin Trudeau repeatedly said, "Do the right thing, long enough, consistently..." and you'll achieve your goals no matter how difficult. On an Infotrack news program last night, they presented the results of a study on hugely famous performers... only to find they concentrated on practice sessions which repeatedly worked on bettering by just a little bit. This they did over years and years-- they focused, Pinky, they focused.

This powerful singularity which-- coupled with whatever remaining time the good Lord sees fit to grant-- will allow me to spotlight that one man, whomever he reaLee, truLee is. And with that singularity comes the power to crush the weaker person I once was.

Cheers
Lee

Keith Junior Richan (1922-2007)

My first cousin once removed and a great and kindly man, Keith Junior Richan (shown at right), died suddenly at home on Sunday 01 April 2007 in American Fork, Utah. He was 85.

Keith was important to me because he was an honorable man. Whilst my own efforts at walking uprightly fall laughably short, Keith was what I want to be.

For example, once I planned to rent a home from an old gentleman who mercilessly thrust document after document at me-- credit checks, background history, employment and wage statements, etc. etc. You know the type: ready to put a lien on your firstborn.

The man stopped cold when he saw my family name, Richan. "Any relation to Keith?" the old curmudgeon snarled.

"Yes, he's my cousin," I said tentatively.

"Then we don't need these," he said, and grabbed the papers back. "He and I went to school together," he said. "Anyone who knows Keith is alright in my book." And truly, that was a frequent experience.

Keith ran for public office back in the 1980s, and won handily the title of Utah County Commissioner. It seemed that everyone who knew Keith had a bold statement to make about how Keith had helped someone, or gone the extra mile, or had done something remarkable.

When you shook hands with Keith, he didn't keep you at arm's length-- he pulled you in. "What can I do for you?" he'd ask at first. As you tried waving him off, he'd insist, "No, really-- what can I do for you?"

That's the kind of man I want to be. I'll miss you, Keith. Nothing 'junior' about you at all.

Oh, and in that photo-- his name tag reads, "Yippee!"

Cheers.