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During COVID, my mom faded away in nursing home. As a tribute to her, my middle daughter and I started playing a couple shaky songs in local nursing homes. This grew to monthly shows in the dementia and the Alzheimer's units in our area. She'd sing, play the flute, piano, or rock an egg-shaker. Flash forward to December last year -- college application month for competitive US schools. Having obsessed over her top school's application for three months, she read a last-minute footnote that made her blood freeze. "You can submit an optional 2-minute video if you wish." She had 36-hours to do this. Or she could say "Good enough," and just sleep in. The best admission videos you see online are ridiculously impressive. Giving a Nobel Prize speech, playing "Dueling Cellos" with Yo-Yo Ma, winning the Global Geometry Olympics and chest bumping the rest of your team in slow motion. In the next 36 hours, she decided to create a music video. We happened to be playing a Christmas show in a nursing home the next day. She rewrote the words to the song "My Favorite Things" to emphasize why she was a great fit for her dream college. For a teenage girl, singing every month in Alzheimer units isn't cool, impressive, nor is it a transferable skill that you'll take to college. Still, she reasoned, submitting any video would be better than her submitting no video. Yesterday she flew a red-eye back from that college, and I drove up to the Syracuse airport to pick her up. While we were there, we had Costco rotate our all-season tires for real snow tires, as we killed time watching The Housemaid at the theatre next door. So much happens to kids the year after they send their college applications in. The whole process must be a forgettable blur -- their career goals, their statement, and any last-minute video they might have sent -- basically forgotten. Driving through the snow flurries on the way home, I asked her what specific things she had planned for her 12 days of vacation. She said, "Let's play all of those Christmas shows together." That's a risky thing to say on a snowy road to a dad who can't even watch It's a Wonderful Life without crying a river.
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About a month ago we dropped off our middle daughter at college. Now we're back for Parents Weekend. Three days of awesome togetherness time, but not what you'd expect. On Friday, she had a 5:00 calculus assignment due and then a 11:59 PM humanities research paper due. Then she came to our hotel and slept in until 11:00 AM. On Saturday, it was club meetings. On Sunday, project meetings and study groups. She's coughing and exhausted, but she's elated every day. Across all schools in the US, only 60-65% of the students who start college will graduate from that college within 6 years. Of the 35-40% who don't graduate, some are asked to leave, and some decide to leave. Two of my first three college roommates were in that first group. For anxious helicopter, parents the question we irritatingly ask our Freshman children the most is "How are classes going?" followed by "So how are your classes? " followed by "How are the classes going that you are taking." A friend said that when he went to an orientation week for one of his kids, the Dean of Students said that asking "How are your classes going?" was the wrong question to ask. Instead, he said, you should ask them "Have you made a best friend?" Interesting . . . It might be that having a best friend is a buffer against dropping out. You have someone to compare daily experiences with, someone who makes you feel you belong, and someone you want to stay in school to see. It might also just be that asking them about a best friend is less irritating, grating, and anxiety-producing for them than asking for an update on their calculus grade. (When I was in my PhD program I cringed whenever people asked me how my dissertation was going. My Mom and Dad even started calling it "the D-Word" to make it less PTSD-inducing.) For anybody having a new freshman starting school, asking them about a best friend may be a lot more diagnostic than asking them "How are classes going?" Asking them about a best friend might be a more welcomed or productive conversation path than we might think. I think it would also make you a more welcomed and interesting person when talking to other Freshman college kids of your friends. Last month I got a text from a friend who is 10 days older than I am that said: "I've got some other friends who also turn about 65 this year. Meet me at the general aviation terminal in Minneapolis at 1:00 on Thursday the 21st, and we'll be back by 1:00 on the 24th. See you then, Dan" I texted back, "100 percent." By the time we would arrive back on the 24th, one of us would have a broken arm, one would have shingles, and one would have pneumonia. If the eight of us would have known all of that ahead of time . . . we would still have gone. The older you get, it's easy to get less spontaneous and to go for the "sure bets." I have one friend from my PhD program who only eats at chain restaurants because, "You always know what you're getting, so there are no unpleasant surprises." We were going up to the Iron Mountain boundary waters of Minnesota where we wouldn't have running water, electricity, or heat and where we would live on floating cabins in the middle of a lake. Why? This is the home of 82-year-old Will Steger, the first person to make it to the North Pole unaided (except for 30 sled dogs), and also the first to cross Antartica. Other than frolic in the wilderness, we were going to hear about all of his "And that was the 107th time I about died" stories. There weren't a lot of superficial similarities among the eight of us. One writes six weekly investment newsletters (far left), one is a Zen Buddhist Priest (third from the left), one had been elected with Jesse "The Body" Ventura to the Minnesota Governor's Office (far right bottom) . . . crazy different paths. Before arriving, we all knew our host, but we didn't know anyone else. At some point, someone asked our host what we had in common (other than being about 65) to get us invited. He said, "You were all guys I thought would be up for an adventure, without asking questions. You'd all say "I'm all in." He then went on to say there were two others who kept asking him questions and kept wanting him to convince them that it was going to be worth their time. He pretty much said, "I didn't even try. I want to be around enthusiastic people." For the past 4 years, my family has hosted Rotary International Exchange students in our home. One year it was a host son from Brazil and then one from Poland. After that, it was a host daughter from Mexico and then from Finland. They live with us for 4 months or so. Tremendous experience. The first host son we had was from Brazil. Whenever we asked if he wanted to do something -- anything -- he would always say "100 percent." It wasn't like he had to think about it, or ask questions, or need to be convinced it would be worth his time. He always said "100%." It was like saying "I'm all in." As a result, we always wanted to do more and more with him and take him to more and more places, because he was always enthusiastically going to give it everything he had. ---- As foreshadowed, this weekend wasn't without mishaps. My canoe buddy got pnuemonia, our host broke his arm, and I got shingles. Still, being "All in" and "100 percent" will be forever more memorable than the weekends of the two guys who asked too many questions. In the meantime, 82-year-old Will Steger is doing great. He's probably just smiling and rolling his eyes at the rest of us. Fifty years ago (August 25, 1975) Bruce Springsteen's breakthrough third album Born to Run was released. Last weekend, it seemed like half of New Jersey showed up for a three-day conference celebrating the album. Previews of upcoming movies, famous panels, a two-song concert by the E Street band, and . . . nerdy academic speeches. But I didn't know about any of this until 3 months ago. I was giving a speech in Memphis (on Rock and Roll saxophone), and was asked to make a noon-time speech here. Being a Springsteen/Clarence Clemons fanboy, I was on it. Here's a travelogue of some famous Springsteen sites. Here's Why it's called "The E Street Band"The Famous 10th Avenue and E Street (The STOP refers to my playing)Here's Where the Entire Born to Run album was writtenSpringsteen's High School home in Freehold, NJ (his family's third home)Here's Springsteen's Escape Vehicle so he can skip my speechHere's the poster that summarized my speech.Here's a Horrible Sound Quality Version . . .A Non-Born to Run BonusSpringsteen's first album was called Greetings from Asbury Park. The name "Asbury Park" means nothing to 90% of all Americans who aren't from that general area. It's like me saying "Greetings from Lake Okoboji, Iowa." When the album came out in 1973, I wondered what was so special about Asbury Park. Hmmmm . . . |
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