Jerry was my stepdad back in the ‘80s.

We bonded over sports. Football, basketball, and then… Mike Tyson boxing matches. In those days, all of Tyson’s bouts were on HBO, and we made it essential viewing.

In his college years, Jerry played center at Ohio State University for legendary coach Woody Hayes. His 1961 team became national champions.

As a proud Ohio native, his love for the Buckeyes almost converted me. During my senior year, we took a road trip there to visit his family, walk around campus, and of course, tour the stadium. For a brief moment, I thought about trading my Mid-Atlantic roots for Buckeye Nation.

Why didn’t I go to OSU? One word: COLD. I’m not a winter guy.

Jerry passed away far too soon. Next month marks fifteen years since he’s been gone. He made a mark on my life, and I think of him anytime the Buckeyes take the field. Or when I see old clips of Tyson.

I’d sit through a blizzard now to watch a game with him.

Something you should know about my grandmother.

Her name was Hilda Forrester, but I called her Nannie. I was 34 when she passed and never once saw her get mad. Peace seemed to rest within her.

Growing up, her house served as my safe place. Endless meals… like French toast, country-style steak, pinto beans, veggies, brown-and-serve rolls, mac and cheese. A pitcher of sweet tea and a box of Little Debbie oatmeal cookies always waited in the kitchen.

Most weekends were spent with her and Paw Paw, focusing on three things: drawing cartoons, watching TV, and listening to music. This was before I could drive and got busy doing teenager stuff.

A couple of months ago while visiting my hometown, I uncovered a stack of letters she had written me when I went away to college. She faithfully mailed me 2-3 handwritten pages and gave me updates, addressing them to “Brian Allen.”

For 16 years, she lived as a widow. During that time, she never grumbled. Her heart was her family, and I knew she thought about me every day.

Peace lived in Nannie.

Thinking of her makes it still live in me.

The most expensive loogie in history.

A couple weeks ago, in the first game of the NFL season, an Eagles defensive tackle spit on Cowboys quarterback Dak Prescott. Officials tossed him out before he even played a snap.

The league fined him $57,222, equal to his pay for one game.

That moment reminded me of the importance of controlling emotions. A split-second decision can stain a reputation.

Careless words or gestures could overshadow years of positive work. People remember the misstep longer than the steady good.

Respect is earned slowly but can be lost instantly.

Teaching yourself to pause before reacting is a tremendous skill, and this simple habit might prevent damage that takes months or years to repair.

Life often magnifies the little things. A dumb action unravels opportunities, while caring acts done consistently build influence.

Everything has consequences, so consider the real cost.

The price tag could be far higher than $57,222.

While in Boston, Luke shared a golden truth with me: the SCIPAB acrostic.

He uses this tool during high-stakes presentations and briefings. A string of six letters that looks like nothing at first, but turns into a secret code once you know how to apply it.

SCIPAB.

Situation: State a clear fact about the circumstance.

Complication: Point out a problem standing in the way.

Implication: Explain what happens if the problem is ignored.

Position: Present your solution.

Action: Recommend the next move.

Benefit: Describe the positive outcome if the recommendation is followed

The beauty of this little method comes when someone throws you a tough question. Instead of fumbling, just slip into SCIPAB mode and suddenly you’re impossible to trip up.

A framework worth stealing.

We squeezed every drop of adventure out of our final day.

• Spent the night at the Wayfinder Hotel, close to Newport’s downtown.

• Grabbed coffee at the Nitro Bar, named for their signature coffee which is infused with nitrogen gas under pressure, creating tiny bubbles and giving the drink a creamy texture and sweet taste. Their TikTok posts have made them a lot busier.

• After more downtown shopping, we boarded the Aquidneck, a gorgeous schooner with a crew of 3. On our 1.5-hour sail through Narragansett Bay, we saw the massive Pell Bridge and 20-acre Fort Adams (which hosts the famous Newport Jazz Festival), along with lots of historic homes. There was even an unusual house built on a rocky outcrop which locals call the “House on the Rock.”

• Pizza lunch at Bar ‘Cino restaurant, a well-known spot in Newport’s Washington Square. Customers cut their thin-crust (“grilled pizza”) at the table with large scissor shears, which is part of the charm.

• After more shopping, we drove around Ocean Drive, a beautiful road looping past jaw-dropping mega-mansions and coastal views. Eye candy the whole way.

• Back to the Boston airport — where we were sad to say goodbye to Luke, the MVP of the day. He drove the whole time and then kindly returned the rental car for us.

• After landing in Richmond and driving an hour to Williamsburg, we got home around 12:30am.

An incredible 4-day getaway.

We left Boston for some fun in Rhode Island.

• We picked up a rental from the airport: a 2025 Jeep Wrangler with only 600 miles on it. Felt kinda cool being part of the “Jeep Wave” tradition, a friendly gesture between Jeep drivers.

• Before leaving the city, we stopped by Tatte Bakery & Café for breakfast on the go. It’s known for mixing Mediterranean and Israeli flavors with classic European and American treats. Yum Yum.

• Made the 1.5 hour trip to Newport. Rhode Island, following the same route wealthy families in horse-drawn coaches once traveled to their summer mansions.

• Fun Fact: the actual location is called Aquidneck Island and is about 22 miles long and 5 miles wide. It contains three towns: Newport, Middletown, and Portsmouth.

• Newport is filled with stunning mansions from the late 19th / early 20th centuries. We toured the Breakers mansion, built in the 1890s by the Vanderbilts. It’s unreal — 70 rooms, five floors, and about 140,000 square feet of opulence, sitting on ocean-cliff property. The rooms showcase elaborate plasterwork, marble, and mosaics, and the HBO show “The Gilded Age” filmed scenes there.

• After the tour, we caught an Uber ride and cheered as the Cowboys beat the Giants in overtime.

• We then headed to the Castle Hill Inn, which offers sweeping views over Narragansett Bay and the Atlantic coastline. The lawn area is filled with Adirondack chairs, and we sat and watched as a Princess Cruises cruise ship passed by, playing the “Love Boat” theme song on its air horns. Only old people like me recognized the tune.

• Dinner at The Mooring Seafood Kitchen & Bar, which sits on Sayer’s Wharf on Newport’s historic waterfront. The vibe was a nautical/harbor aesthetic, and our table had views of the water, docked boats, and a spectacular sunset.

• After dinner, we popped in and out of little souvenir shops and listened to a live band for a bit.

• Before heading to our hotel, a lady was singing on the sidewalk. She asked passersby for any leftover food, saying she was hungry. We offered her a bag of honey bread from the Mooring restaurant, but she declined, saying she preferred chocolate. I guess she wasn’t that hungry.

Another full, beautiful day.

Quite possibly the greatest tourism day of all time.

• Started the morning with a tour of Luke’s office, the 17-story PTC tower rising over the Seaport district. Elliptically shaped, the open-plan interior mixes huddle rooms with café‐type casual spaces. Amazing views of Boston Harbor and the cluster of restaurants and shops.

• Breakfast and coffee at PopUp Bagels. The crowd stretched out the door but totally worth the wait. The bagels offer a crispier crust and softer crumb than a traditional style, and their “schmears” (cream cheeses/butter spreads) are smack-your-granny good.

• After some shopping and wandering, we had lunch at Petula’s in Southie. With the feel of a café by day and neighborhood restaurant by night, there's a charming and relaxed energy about it.

• Visited Luke’s South Boston house and chilled for a bit. He shares the place with several roommates in this quiet neighborhood filled with shops and small eateries.

• “Pre-game” before dinner at Cafe Vittoria, possibly Boston’s oldest Italian café. Located in the North End, the decor has tin ceilings, marble floors, ornate mirrors, and vintage photos. There’s also a basement cigar room, one of the last surviving licensed smoking lounges in the city.

• A showstopper dinner at Lucca Italian, a higher-end option in the historic North End, glowing with candlelight and granite floors. Luke grabbed a reservation by the retractable front wall that opened up to Hanover Street for an incredible “open dining” experience. A $500k Lamborghini was parked about 10 feet away.

• After dinner, as if the evening wasn’t already cinematic, fireworks suddenly lit the harbor. We walked close enough to see the canisters launching from barges right in front of us.

• Bova’s Bakery came next, a local favorite known for their pastries and desserts. There is often a line down the sidewalk, even late at night. Inside, display cases overflow with traditional Italian-style sweets and the smell of sugar and dough. There’s no sit-down dining, only take-out, but perfect for late cravings.

• We strolled down by the water again, gawking at the large $90 million yacht docked by the pier and owned by Boston Red Sox owner, John Henry. Just as we arrived, out steps John Kerry, who won the Democratic nomination in 2004, running against George W. Bush. He barely lost the election, and had he won Ohio, he would have become president. He later served as Secretary of State under President Obama. Some locals asked us to take a picture as they gathered around him.

• Returned to our hotel room, watched some college football, and finally rested. Total step count for the day: around 25,000.

What an amazing day.

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.

The first glimpse.

Remember when you met someone important in your life? Maybe it happened in a coffee shop or a church lobby. Maybe they turned into a best friend or even a spouse.

As the years pass, the moment and place becomes sacred.

Today, I had that experience. A face appeared for the very first time. And this person, without a doubt, is already one of the most significant in my life.

How? Where?

McKenzie’s first ultrasound. The earliest visible proof of our little grandgirl.

She wiggled through the whole video, like she already knew the spotlight belonged to her.

Yep, we have a new leading lady on our hands.

Cue the opening credits.

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.