Published December 5, 2011 by

This past weekend, I had dinner with a very close friend that I had not seen for about six months. From what I suspect and sort of know, this individual is going through the battle of her life with an illness – I really don’t know the extent of its seriousness. She doesn’t really
speak about it and yet she is more loveable and entertaining than ever. This is someone who has played a huge part in my life. I have another friend and former colleague who is a young father and goingthrough a similar battle and he tells me how “big daddy” is going to beat this  thing. How is it that both of these people make me feel so happy when I speak to them, see them, or even think about them?

Saturday morning, when I was walking my two Labradors, Stella and Azeet, we passed the Natural History Museum where there were large life-sized posters of tigers. From far across Central Park West, Stella spotted the tiger and started to growl like I have never heard her growl in her 11 years. She clearly wanted to protect me from harm. The maintenance woman at the museum laughed out loud and said, “I ain’t evah seen that happen


Friday was my last day in the office for some period (yet to be determined). Last week and all during the weekend, I received so many heartfelt (mushy) wishes, notes, hugs, gifts, cards, etc. Anyone who knows me is aware of how difficult it can be for me to process such good wishes and love. (There I said it! I never say that word.) I actually snuck out of the office early on Friday so I didn’t have to really feel the love.

Why do I tell you all of this? Because today I am feeling like a euphoric gospel singer on this Sunday! You know the type who is “praisin” the lord in her big colorful wide brimmed hat and belting on her tambourine! Have I discovered finally that I have friends? Do I now know that people have FAITH in me – and perhaps I have unwavering faith in myself?


My Mantra:

Many around the world know that I have a sort of

mantra that I teach everyone:

• I am anti-social, 

• I have no friends, and 

• I am the Son of a Postman from the ghettos of

Well, today I need to dissect and dispel the untruths in my mantra. I just need to all around lose the mantra. We can skip the antisocial part because, although I do spend lots of time alone in CT with my pets, my life is anything but anti-social.

Although I am definitely a Son of a Postman from Philadelphia, we didn’t live in anything one would consider a ghetto. Or, since a ghetto can be defined as any concentrated grouping of “sameness,” therefore my ghetto was a mass of hard-working white Catholics all smashed into one big safe neighborhood.  (Of course, you will be able to read all about this “ghetto” in my book.)

And finally, I HAVE FRIENDS! They are already documented here; many will be featured in this blog; and some I will need to hide in the stories of my book. And look how that Stella protected me from that tiger! Who is more fortunate than me?

Postscript – I want to tell you how my “mantra” played for many years in Hong Kong. I would travel there often for business and while there I would attempt to teach the office assistants the three key points. It was so great how it came back to me as “You not nice, you have no friends, and you from Pittsburgh!” Pittsburgh must be easier to pronounce than Philadelphia? I am sure these wonderful women didn’t know these two semi-obscure US cities were in the same state! I loved visiting those smiling faces and hope to see them again.  They always buy me gifts!

Off to London tonight, then Bangalore bound.


Son of a Postman 


Published December 5, 2011 by

Probably everyone who is reading this blog is aware of the new adventure I am about to begin. This journey may be quick, it may change my life, it may make many people laugh, or it may just get me back to where I am today. Nevertheless, I am going to be completely present for each part of this journey, regardless of where it takes me or for how long. Where it leads me or how it evolves will be for all to read. For those of you who are not current, after 30 years of an almost fairy tale career in business, I have taken a pause so that I can spend some focused time to deepen my yoga practice and, more importantly, to write a book. The title of this book is “SON OF A POSTMAN: How I MANAGED to Deliver.” Thus, the name of this blog. More on the book as the journey unfolds but first today’s observation.

Housewives of Somewhere!

It’s Sunday morning and I am standing in a line at Christie’s auction house in NYC waiting to go to a viewing of Elizabeth Taylor’s jewelry, various rags and assorted household crap. It is not something one might think I would do, given I don’t stand in lines, go to tourist attractions, don’t like being in crowds of people, don’t care about jewelry, or have any interest in celebrities – but, like I said, it is a new adventure, so here I wait. I am here with two of my very best and most supportive long time friends, so just being with them is worth any wait.

They are the kinds of friends that we could have just as easily sat in my living room all weekend and had the time of our lives. We just exist together and laugh. Here at this viewing, they are almost as excited as the girls I will describe below. Picture a queue full of over-dressed, color-processed, over-botoxed and over-perfumed women – and gay men of course! The women mostly look like reality show escapees or wannabes. Most had a rabid desire to check their coats and various wraps as they entered, clearly not because it was necessary but these girls wanted to work their outfits! For many this event today looks to be bigger than Christmas, their daughter’s wedding, or their son’s bar mitzvah! The “costumes” worn by these “wives of somewhere” are more interesting and look far better than the weathered rags on display. Who needs Hollywood when we have BRAVO! I did see an Elephant mask made of plastic that I wouldn’t mind having. It has as estimated value of $600. The Postman’s son always likes good value! The totally bright side of this excursion is that all of the proceeds from the tickets purchased by this assembly of “Housewives of Somewhere and Gay Men” go to AIDS research and that is a very good thing.

This is only one third of what I wrote yesterday so stay fastened to your seat!

Son of a Postman


Published November 23, 2011 by

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