Living on the edge

Today I was sorely tempted to open my back door and yell to those hanging out in my backyard, “Hey, you guys are animals!”

There was a wild turkey at the birdbath, and running around were the usual chipmunks, rabbits, and squirrels, who, by the way, were scaring the birds from the feeder. 

The deer come out at night and nibble my plants. Occasionally, a red fox makes an appearance, and last week there was a snake. Well, evidence of a snake. I found the skin it shed – and that’s about as close as I ever want to get to a snake.

That’s a lot of wildlife for my small plot of land. It’s not like I live in the country. I can walk out my front door and be comfortably seated in a Philadelphia restaurant within a half hour.

And it’s not like I live in the city. I can walk down the street and into the fields of a neighboring orchard and pick-your-own farm market. In fact, when I had a dog to walk around those fields, I was often the “local color” families pointed to when hayrides went by.

It’s like I’m living on the edge of both city and country life. I'm at the intersection of urban and rural. Neither one nor the other, but the benefits of both. I've got proximity to nature and culture, with the convenience of major airports, railways, and highways nearby.

I’m often targeted by ads trying to lure me to a new home, an age-appropriate community, or vacation property. I might look, but I won’t budge.

I like where I am -- and the ability to be somewhere else quickly.

Living on the edge of town and country suits me just fine.

Give it a rest

Stop and smell the roses

Fourth of July. Time to kick back and relax.

My phone buzzes. Several times. In quick succession. Emails have arrived. Maybe messages from friends or family?

Nope. Updates about work topics from LinkedIn Groups.

Saturday night, out late. Coming home from a fun party with friends. Feeling good and a little tired. My phone buzzes. Did I forget something at the party? Is someone checking to make sure I got home OK?

Nope. It’s my gas and electric bill.

As long as I’m on the smartphone, I check Twitter, looking for a laugh. Most of the posts are earnest messages about industry trends or professional development.

To all of the above, I say: Give it a rest. I know, or at least I hope, most of these posts and emails are pre-scheduled for delivery. No one is really sending out bills or “5 Ways to Improve Your Presentation” in the wee hours of the weekend.

At least they shouldn’t be.

Just because digital delivery and social media have the capability for 24/7 connection doesn’t mean they have to be used 24/7.

Consider the receiver. Why not give us all a little time to unwind from the week.

If you feel compelled to post at all hours, and on off days, at least make it funny or lighthearted or otherwise appropriate for downtime.

Let’s keep the work in the workday. And help us all put a proper end to the week with work-free weekends.

That would be a more social thing to do.

Bringing back the hatpin

It’s the oldest and simplest of my accessories that’s gotten the most notice these days.

In summer hat-wearing weather, I’ve been hiding under a woven brim for portable shade. To keep hat on head – and hair piled up beneath hat – I’ve been relying on hatpins.

I’ve gathered a collection over the years, even though they’re mostly stored away, out of sight.

This summer they’re on display. Stuck through the back of hats and all but forgotten by me. Until people – mostly women – ask about them. 

“It’s a hatpin,” I say.
“Yes, it works in all but the strongest winds.”
“Oh, I’ve had these for years; in fact, some were my mother’s.”

I think the last time I bought a hatpin was decades ago, when I mostly used them to secure my hair in a bun. Then I started wearing my hair shorter, then shorter still, until tiring of the maintenance. I chose the path of least resistance for my unruly mop: wearing it long.

So, buns were back in and out came the hatpins. And the curious looks.

Still, everyone who noticed has agreed: “What a good idea.”

Hatpins may be a throwback to the last century, when women wore big hats without bonnet strings, but they’re still fit for purpose.

Sometimes it’s the simplest tools that do the best job, even in a high-tech world.

Interested in hatpins? Read more at these sites…

• Antique Hatpins and Hatpin Holders
• The American Hatpin Society
• Vintage Hat Pins on Pinterest
• VictorianHatPins.com

Dispensing wisdom

Josh Binder, Rutgers 2014

Tis the season of commencement speeches.

I certainly don’t remember who spoke at my graduation ceremony, much less what was said. But I might have been more attentive if one of the following 2014 graduation speakers were at the microphone.

Charlie Day, “It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia”
Merrimack College
 
“Everything I'm truly proud of in this life has been a terrifying prospect to me. From my first play, to hosting "Saturday Night Live," getting married, being a father, speaking to you today. None of it comes easy. People will tell you to do what makes you happy, but all this has been hard work. And I'm not always happy. I don't think you should just do what makes you happy. Do what makes you great. Do what's uncomfortable and scary and hard but pays off in the long run. Be willing to fail. Let yourself fail. Fail in the way and place where you would be proud to fail. Fail and pick yourself up and fail again. Without that struggle, what is your success anyway?”
--
Ed Helms, “The Office”
Cornell University

“Only a fool would deliberately scare himself. Be that fool. Here’s the thing: scaring ourselves is, well, it’s scary and that’s not necessarily fun for anybody, but you have to do it because it’s the most potent catalyst for growth.”
--
John Legend, musician
University of Pennsylvania

“I know what it means to be all about the rat race and winning. But years from now, when you look back on your time here on earth, your life and your happiness will be way more defined by the quality of your relationships, not the quantity. You'll get much more joy out of depth, not breadth. It's about finding and keeping the best relationships possible with the people around you. It's about immersing yourself in your friendships and your family. It's about being there for the people you care about, and knowing that they'll be there for you.”
--
Atul Gawande, surgeon, writer, public-health researcher
UNC-Chapel Hill

“The aim of college is not complicated. It is to learn and try stuff so you can expand as a human being. Find what you care about. Maybe even figure out who you are and what you are here on this rock for… One thing I came to realize after college was that the search for purpose is really a search for a place, not an idea. It is a search for a location in the world where you want to be part of making things better for others in your own small way. It could be a classroom where you teach, a business where you work, a neighborhood where you live. The key is, if you find yourself in a place where you stop caring—where your greatest concern becomes only you—get out of there. You want to put yourself in a place that suits who you are, links you to others, and gives you a purpose larger than yourself worth making sacrifices for.”
--
These few excerpts barely scratch the surface of engaging, funny, and insightful commencement speeches, but they’re enough to tell me I should have listened more closely when I was in cap and gown, all those years ago. Because whoever gives the speech at graduation, there is valuable advice and experience to be shared.

For “The Best Commencement Speeches, Ever” visit the NPR website for a searchable list of 300 addresses going back to 1774.