In May 2024, Luke and I took a 12-hour road trip to his new Boston apartment.

The highway felt endless, a marathon of asphalt and traffic.

But tonight, Jess, McKenzie, and I hopped on an evening flight to see him, landing just 78 minutes later. YAY for air travel.

After touching down around 9:45, we met up with Luke and explored the night landscape of the Seaport district. A late meal fueled our stroll along the Boston Harbor, with city lights dancing on the water.

Here we are, official Bostonians for the weekend.

24 years ago today, America changed forever.

I had just pulled into my Norfolk driveway after an early trip to Virginia Beach. When I walked inside, Jessica and I turned on the television to see news of a plane striking the World Trade Center.

McKenzie was our only child then, one year old, and we held her close while watching the horrors unfold in real time.

Only twenty people came out alive from the rubble. Among them was Genelle Guzman, who later became a friend of ours. She visited our church twice and shared her story as the last survivor recovered from the wreckage.

When she described the moment she felt a rescuer’s hand, it was a reminder of the thin line between despair and hope.

This played out on a national scale. In the days after 9/11, flags appeared on porches. Neighbors spoke to each other kindly. Churches overflowed. And almost overnight, the country unified.

It remains one of the most unforgettable chapters of my life.

For years, I would get sick around the funerals of loved ones.

Not just a sniffle, but a real, knock-me-down illness. This mystery baffled me until I realized the truth.

I tend to bury my feelings. A lifelong habit which, turns out, has consequences. When “bottled up” emotions stay trapped inside too long, the body keeps score.

This week, a phrase stuck with me: It takes more effort to suppress emotions than to express them.

Looking back, it's so true.

Science shows that suppression makes the prefrontal cortex work overtime. This burns more brain power and increases the risk of heart disease and high blood pressure.

Stuffing feelings never works. They build. They stew. And then they explode, messier than when they went in.

So, a reminder today… better out than in. Give those internal storms a name. Raise them up, and get ‘em out.

Your body will thank you.

Sometimes the unexpected brings magic.

Years ago, the Starbucks coffee lab tested new concoctions. Workers swirled cups of chocolate and caramel, searching for the next big hit. And that’s when an underdog recipe surprisingly won.

The Pumpkin Spice Latte.

When market research showed how customers associated fall with football and pumpkin pie, the company anchored the flavor to the season itself. And a star was born.

Since that launch, PSL is the best-selling limited-time drink at Starbucks, with over 600 million sold. The real taste of sweater weather.

Consider this your official sign for a coffee break.

Lincoln was on to something.

The 16th president became famous for his “team of rivals” leadership approach. He appointed men who had actively opposed him for the Republican nomination, rivals from different regions and ideologies.

Why do this? Instead of seeking harmony, he recognized diverse thoughts sparked solutions and prevented blind spots.

Lincoln’s cabinet meetings focused on surfacing dissent. This gave him broader intelligence than a room full of “yes men.” He encouraged open argument, then quietly reserved the right to decide.

Oddly, I thought of Lincoln last night while Jess and I delivered cakes to our new neighbors. She serves on the hospitality team, and I drove her to the homes.

I’ve witnessed how a simple dessert can break down walls and turn strangers into friends. It’s not waiting to see if someone shares our views or background. Leadership goes first in kindness.

Now I want some cake.

My favorite piece of furniture.

Forget fancy dressers or ornate chairs, the one I cherish sits right in the kitchen.

I’m talking about… our dinner table.

The sturdy frame holds so many memories: birthdays, homework, card games, friends, holidays, stories told. It is a silent keeper of our history, the center of family life.

Two meals a day (breakfast and dinner) over twenty years. The math is simple, but the impact is staggering: tens of thousands of moments shared around this table.

Yes, there are smudges and divots and scratches. Not a single mark feels like a flaw. Instead, each one speaks of joy and beautiful chaos.

More than wood and nails, it’s the story of us.

Here’s a trick to improve your writing. And yes, I often break this rule.

The Scottish author, Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 - 1894), rose to fame with two global masterpieces: Treasure Island and Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

This week, I read about his advice: Beware of Adjectives.

Stevenson treated adjectives like enemies. Instead, he leaned on nouns and verbs to create motion and sound. Believing descriptive words were mainly for decoration, the author argued they weakened prose and should only be used when necessary.

He compared adjectives to salt. A pinch enhanced flavor, but too much ruined the dish.

Once, when he critiqued a friend’s manuscript, he told her to avoid the phrase “climbing roses.” Then he offered an alternative: “Roses twined themselves round the apple trees and fell in showers from the branches.”

I think he makes a good point.

His compelling wisdom is a wonderful warning which rings like a golden, blaring bell.

Here’s a powerful hack for success: become known as a problem-solver.

Most people notice issues. But few take the extra step to think about solutions.

When you walk into a meeting with even one idea to move things forward, you stand apart. Make this your rule: Always Go With A Solution.

Always.

Over time, this will build your reputation. Opportunities come to those who alleviate stress instead of adding to it.

A boss who notices you lifting pressure off their shoulders will open doors for you.

Life seems to reward the proactive, not the passive. As someone once said, “A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.”

Problem-spotters are common. Solution-finders are rare.

There’s an old saying: “canaries in the coal mine.”

Miners once carried caged canaries deep underground because the birds reacted quickly to toxic gases like carbon monoxide. If the canary collapsed, it signaled danger.

Even after electronic detectors came along, workers still trusted the birds because they responded instantly. Over time, the expression became shorthand for any early-warning system, when small things point to bigger problems.

Tonight was the NFL opener featuring my favorite team, the Dallas Cowboys. Unfortunately, they lost. And while they showed flashes of greatness, a shaky defense and dropped passes were troubling signs.

Are these early “tells” for the rest of the season? An omen of what’s to come?

I hope the canaries stand strong.

I must be getting old.

Until about a week ago, I hadn’t heard of KPop Demon Hunters, Netflix's most-watched original film ever.

The soundtrack also became the first to land four songs in the top 10. There was even a recent two-day sing-along theater run which ruled the box office.

How did this happen? I used to know the trends.

Maybe now I’ll just wait for the karaoke version of The A-Team.

In north-central Ukraine, Kyiv endures regular bombings.

Life carries on as war-torn residents search for ways to feel normal. Recently, I read about something unusual that helps. At first glance, this might seem odd or even absurd. But it works.

A jellyfish museum.

The building serves as an escape where people don’t have to think about the conflict while watching these creatures gracefully drift. Glowing tanks release blue light, and the ambient space soothes visitors amidst the surrounding destruction. A hypnotic ballet providing peace.

But why jellyfish?

• They have existed for over 500 million years, one of the oldest living species on Earth

• They prove resilience isn’t always loud or combative

• They survive without a brain, heart, or bones, and they keep functioning even when damaged

• They've outlasted nuclear testing zones in oceans

• Watching them has been proven to lower blood pressure and reduce stress

Sometimes the best therapy is observing a creature too simple to panic.

What calms you down? Look for your own “jellyfish museum” — maybe a long, hot shower or a quiet park bench. Perhaps the ocean or a crackling fire. Maybe a garden, birds, or the stars.

Just find it.

Even in the hospital, Jake was a happy kid.

At 8yrs old, a scary bike crash left him with a deep gash on his chin that needed stitches. I rushed him to the ER, my heart pounding, but Jake grinned through the whole ordeal. The doctor finally shook his head and said, “I’ve never seen a kid this brave before.”

That’s Jake. No matter what he does, it’s never halfway.

Joy seems to propel him, and since the start, he’s always met life with wide eyes and full energy. I can still picture him almost skipping down the sidewalk because walking wasn’t fast enough for his excitement about each day.

Whether summer vacations, swim team, soccer, Halloween trick-or-treating, hanging up Christmas lights, or doing house projects — he would dive into them all with the same spark.

As a preteen, he once built a social media following of 30,000 people based on one of his favorite shows. Many times I’d pull into the driveway after work to find the lawn mowed and edged or the porch pressure washed, all done without a word. Those surprises carried his signature generosity.

But more than his energy or work ethic, what sets him apart is empathy. He listens deeply and offers comfort freely, finding ways to make others feel less alone.

Today, September 1st, is his birthday. And somehow that skipping kid is now grown up, still bringing light and making a difference wherever he goes.

Happy Birthday, Jake! Your joy inspires me.

A perfect fall day.

Cooler air crept in this weekend, and Jess and I had the house to ourselves.

We cooked steaks over the grill, then added sweet potato fries and salad. As the sun faded, we took Cali for an evening walk before lighting the deck’s fire pit while watching football on a nearby TV.

Does it get any better?

An interesting fact.

This week, I learned about a continent which occupies just 4% of the planet’s surface but has shaped history more than any other over the past 500 years.

Which one?

Europe (not including Russia).

Massive ripple effects have marked the continent's last five centuries in economics, science, politics, culture, and creativity.

Think of these minds:

Copernicus
Galileo
Newton
Einstein
Shakespeare
Voltaire
Michelangelo
Da Vinci
Rembrandt
Mozart
Beethoven
Picasso
Van Gogh

Oh yeah, they gave us The Beatles, too.

Never underestimate the impact of four percent.

The best Christmas gift.

At 13 years old, I found a jewelry-sized box under the tree with my name on it. My dad told me it was my “big” present, which drove me crazy trying to guess.

He confirmed it wasn’t money, and not a ring or necklace. His hints only deepened the mystery.

When Christmas morning finally arrived, I had to wait until the end to open the surprise. And inside the box, nestled on satin lining, rested a tiny key.

I stared at my dad, confused. Then with a grin, he motioned to his bedroom.

Racing through the doorway, my eyes landed on a brown container waiting on his bed. I recognized the shape instantly.

The case for a Bach Stradivarius trumpet.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My dad even had my name engraved near the handle.

For four years, I had played on a cheap beginner model, but all that changed in one amazing moment. Inserting the key, I unlocked the latches and a silver Bach Strad gleamed back at me like the sun. Every serious player had one.

And man, did I use that horn. I performed in jazz bands, orchestras, marching bands, church services, musicals, and Boy Scout camps. High school, college, grad school. Even made a little money along the way.

Today, I don’t play often but the instrument still sits in my closet, a constant reminder of a father’s belief. Who knows? I may make a musical comeback.

Sometimes the best gifts come in the smallest packages.

A powerful principle.

This week, while prepping for a marketing workshop with William & Mary students, I thought about one of the simplest (but often overlooked) lessons.

The “What/Why.”

What = The details (time, location, cost)

Why = The outcome

Most marketers focus on the details (the What) but forget the deeper benefit (the Why). This is a huge mistake.

People are never just purchasing a product or attending an event. They’re investing in an upgraded version of their lives and subconsciously asking, “How will this make my life better?”

So, here’s a trick for uncovering the Why: add the phrase “so you can” after whatever you’re promoting.

Don’t just say, “Buy a Blackstone Grill!”

Instead, say, “Buy a Blackstone Grill — SO YOU CAN — finally cook restaurant-worthy burgers and steaks in your own backyard.”

When you discover the outcome, you’ve usually found your headline.

My all-time favorite TV theme songs.

I started thinking about this because of a conversation I had with Sam before he left for college.

Here’s my top 3:

3. Sanford and Son - Funky groove, soulful harmonica, smooth jazz… just right.

2. The Flintstones — I know, weird choice, but imagine it as a big band swinger, a brassy declaration of a stone-age good time.

1. Cheers — An emotional ballad that perfectly captures the show’s ethos, and most importantly, the longing for connection.

Honorable mentions: The Jefferson’s, Friends, The Andy Griffith Show, Love Boat, Growing Pains, The Dukes of Hazzard, Highway to Heaven.

If you could model yourself after a character from history or fiction, who would it be and why?

The question was posed at a work retreat last week, and one came to my mind from the movie screen:

Guido Orefice, the main character in Life is Beautiful, played by Roberto Benigni.

Guido, an Italian Jewish man, is one of the most positive figures in film. His optimism defines this Holocaust-era story, when his family is deported to a Nazi concentration camp.

Amazingly, Guido shields his young son from the horrors by pretending the ordeal is a game. How? By convincing the boy that if he follows the rules — such as hiding from guards and staying quiet — he will win an army tank.

Against all odds, the father’s humor and imagination preserves his son’s innocence, allowing the child to survive and later “win” the tank, just as promised.

Guido’s optimism is an act of defiance and models how joy can coexist alongside hardship. Which brings me to my own definition: Optimism is the stubborn courage to imagine light in dark situations.

When I think of Guido, I’m inspired to live and think better.

Did you know a lightning bolt can be five times hotter than the sun?

One night as a boy, I stood in our kitchen during a summer storm. The door to our side porch was open, letting in the smell of rain and the low growl of thunder.

Then it happened. The world lit up.

A blast of bright white ripped through the porch and zapped the fluorescent bulb above my head.

Lightning. Pure shock and fear.

Experts say there’s a one in a million chance of being struck, but I nearly beat the odds. A few more feet and I would have joined the club. To this day, I still flinch when thunder cracks too close.

Recently, I read about a “megaflash” strike that stretched 515 miles (average is 2-10 miles) across 5 states and lasted over seven seconds.

Compared to that, my little kitchen jolt feels quaint.

Oh well, I was (almost) the brightest boy in the room.

A great story of Luke.

In middle school, he met the owner of the Peninsula Pilots, a summer collegiate baseball team. At that point, Luke dreamed of sports broadcasting.

With his typical self-assurance, he walked up and asked if the media booth had any openings. The position was already filled, but the owner admired this 13-year-old’s initiative and offered him a job with the promise of broadcasting time.

So the entire season, I shuttled Luke back and forth to War Memorial Stadium, a historic ballpark in Hampton, where he tackled any task. Then one evening, he finally climbed into the announcer’s booth for a few glorious innings.

Luke’s courage to simply ask, to take a chance, carried him into other unexpected roles at young ages: a financial firm, a state senator’s office, and eventually a college internship at a major Boston tech firm.

To make it happen, he found an apartment in Beantown, then drove twelve hours to get there, not knowing anyone. But his leap of faith paid off when the company offered him a full-time role after graduation.

Opportunities arrive for many people. Some fail to see them, others hesitate in fear. But Luke possesses a special talent for turning them into something remarkable. His mix of confidence and a relentless work ethic sets him apart.

Today, on this August 24, we celebrate the day he entered the world.

Happy Birthday, Luke.

Next… maybe talk your way into the box at Fenway.