Another Year Later

Throughout your life you have your heroes. Some come and go for various reasons. I remember The Boy was a huge Jose Conseco fan, but Conseco lost a number of his fans when he turned out to be a juiced-up screw-up. The Boy, always being mature beyond his years, noted he was still a fan of the player but distinguished the difference between holding him to a higher standard and liking the way he could smack a baseball.

It was tougher for me to make that distinction and most of the heroes I held so dear ended up being a surprising disappointment. Often we forget that the people we elevate to hero status are merely mortal and share all the frailties we all share. At least I forget it too often.

There was a period in my life when I elevated a number of people to hero status, blindly accepting they were worthy. I did all this while ignoring there was a person in the office next door who was far more deserving of this status than the people I had chosen. That person was my brother Bill who, as it is, passed away five years ago today.

It’s difficult to look at your brother as a hero, especially your younger brother. How can we when he was the kid we made hike the ball when we older kids played football? But there he was sitting down the hall for nearly 20 years doing the sorts of things heroes do everyday. Mind you it wasn’t done with huge fanfare or by saving little Timmy from falling down the well. I don’t think he ever saved a cat stuck in a tree. What he did that made him a hero was live his life in an honest and moral way and he did so every day of his life.

Naturally I didn’t recognize any of this until after he was gone. Like many people, I believed you had to do something remarkable to be a hero. But I know now, the real hero is the person who lives the life of a respectable husband, father, brother, friend and business partner. Bill embodied all of this and because he did it so effortlessly and without any fanfare, it was far too easy to miss. But I can say five years later, I miss it now.

Bill had a number of bad habits as my business partner. Most notably he kept in check my unbridled enthusiasm to spend money on my latest scheme and always told our clients the unvarnished truth -- something even the clients didn’t want to hear. But his tongue would have fallen out if he tried to tell a fib.

This isn’t to say he was perfect because that was reserved for only one mortal, but he tried to live his life in a quiet dignity where his words could be counted on and his inner truths were formed with high moral standards (not withstanding his youth).

To say I miss him is the mother of all understatement. To say I didn’t recognize or learn from his qualities is an equal understatement. He was decent and straight and so much of the world has forgotten the value of those traits. It’s so easy for us to remember what turns out to be the best of those who have passed and I have considered that about Bill. But the truth about him is still the truth; he was the kind of person you couldn’t help but look up to (his height observations notwithstanding).

I know Sue knows this about Bill. I hope Cass and Janee remember enough of him to realize the valuable lessons he taught them about honesty and integrity. When they miss him, and I’m assured that is quite often, I hope they will think of his overlooked character and give a knowing smile.

I’ve been a bit frightened about how I think of Bill these days. My memory has become a bit fuzzy and I’m forgetting the little things about him. I know this is part of what we do to move on and protect ourselves from such great grief. It’s still disconcerting to me as time slides a few memories of him gently under the rug. I hate losing even a fleeting feeling or observation about him. I still shed the odd tear about his loss and wonder where I would be if he were still around. I know I would have a lot more bad jokes to tell, but I also hope I would have learned from his example over these past five years. But since we must find value in a death, maybe learning this now will be his ever-lasting message to all he left behind.

Just the same, I wish you never left us, Bill……

On Success And Routine

A quick observation on life and successful people. The boy and I attended a meeting in Washington, DC and the host of the meeting, a highly successful and very wealthy man, was a few minutes late. He apologized for his three-minute late arrival and said he had been out running five miles and was a bit too sore to get dressed in his suit and tie quickly.

It hit me, as someone who has physically and, yes, mentally gone downhill of late, that this guy’s success was directly related to his organized and regimented schedule. He runs, he sits on the board of several international organizations and corporations, he writes non-fiction books, is undertaking an enormous new project that I hope we will be involved with and, to top it off, is one of the most respected investment advisors in the U.S. Oh, and it should be noted he is 64 years old and also has a Ph.D in international relations. Not just an average guy, mind you.

So I mention to The Boy about my theory on the correlation of success and a full life. He agreed whole-heartedly. There was a day, long gone by, when I also juggled a more full life and, I have to say, I was much more successful at many things during that time. It’s no secret, mind you, that one needs to be organized and focused in order to achieve things. I admitted to The Boy that I had been neither of late; in part because of a more scattered life and in part because of a lot of travel that has knocked me off any semblance of a routine.

One of the routines that may appear to be quite obvious is my lack of writing. The blog – newly designed now – is a monument to a lack of writing. Worse than this, I handed my manuscript over to a very good editor and successful novelist about six months ago. It was a major coup to get her to agree to edit for me. A few days later I was looking over my work and noticed it was a jumbled mess and I called her up and asked her not to read it quite yet. I told her I wanted to make some edits so the manuscript would make some sense. I wrote a bit and modified a bit, but basically put it away since then.

I guess the point of all of this is, if a 64-year-old guy can run five miles, make a few billion for himelf and his friends, chair a few organizations and write a few books, then certainly I can get off the dime and re-write a book that’s acceptable enough for the editor. And, in the meantime, if this gets me back to a more efficient and organized life, well, I just may reacquaint myself with some of that elusive success. Hopefully this quick note will lead me in the right direction.