My Dad went to the barber shop every Saturday morning.

Like many men of his generation, particularly his military mates, it was a celebrated weekly ritual. A quick trim, the buzz of the back of his neck, and a hot shave. It was his version of a spa day.

I would often ask to go along. I loved everything about the barber shop; the musky smell of cologne, the thwack of the razors being sharpened on leather straps, the rumbling guffaws of the other men telling their tales.

Even now, whenever I see a barber shop pole, a rush of nostalgia comes over me. A whiff of Old Spice and I am right back there, sitting with my Dad, wondering how I got to be so lucky.....

"Barbering is the act of creating without an eraser."

I have been spending a lot of time outside these past few months. Wandering the forest, breathing in the crisp air, a respite from COVID-19 and the growing sense of isolation living in a cold climate can bring.

These days the gray of the sky feels more like a mood and less like an atmospheric attribute. The endless stream of very short days seems, well, endless.

So I find myself musing on greenhouses, filled with the smell of moist soil and dazzling color. Glass houses that transport me to the long summer days that are just around the corner....

“My eyes widened at this jungle of freshness, the earth on the ground. The back wall, around thirty feet high, burst with terra-cotta pots filled with every herb imaginable - basil, thyme, coriander, parsley, oregano, dill, rosemary, and lavender. There were tomatoes of almost every variety beaming with colors of red, dark purple, yellow, and green. Lemon trees. Avocados. Lettuces, like roquette and feuille de chêne. Zucchinis and eggplants. Fennel, celeriac, artichokes, and cucumbers. Leeks, asparagus, cabbages, and shallots, oh my. I exhaled a happy breath. ― Samantha Verant, The Secret French Recipes of Sophie Valroux

As kids, after breaking a few too many window panes with errant foul balls, my brother and I soon found ourselves the proud owners of a wiffle ball and bat, courtesy of my mother.

At first, we felt like we'd been demoted to JV. Such a flimsy excuse for our wood bat and red-stitched rawhide. But then we learned how to throw a mind-bending curve ball with that funky plastic ball. And we could swing the bat for hours without tiring. And most importantly, we stopped getting yelled at all the time for breaking the garage windows.

It was..... fun. Which was the point, right?

"It's supposed to be fun. The man says 'play ball!' not 'work ball' you know." - Willie Stargell (left fielder and first baseman for the Pittsburgh Pirates, 1962-1982)

Barry C. Black has been the chaplain of the U.S. Senate for many decades at this point. But I imagine, in all of his years of ministry at the Capitol, he has never had a week like this one.

The quote below was taken from a prayer Reverend Black offered after Wednesday's breach of our nation's legislative hub. I have long admired surgically-crafted sentences, dazzling vocabulary, and the lyrical turn of a phrase. But I also harbor a profound respect for the brute force of words; their ability to change opinions, transform hearts, even alter the course of history.

"These tragedies have reminded us that words matter, and that the power of life and death is in the tongue." – Barry C. Black, U.S. Senate Chaplain

I found myself on an emotional rollercoaster for much of yesterday, listening and watching our nation's unrest play out in real time.

The National Mall in Washington is anchored by the Capitol building at one end and the Lincoln Memorial at the other. The stretch of land that falls in between has witnessed much history. So this morning, as I digest the recent events at the Capitol, I fix my gaze to the other end of this hallowed ground.

"I am anxious to afford some alleviation of your present distress. Perfect relief is not possible, except with time." – President Abraham Lincoln

In honor of the yesterday's Georgia elections, it seemed like a good time to muse a bit about peaches.

Originally from China, peaches were brought to the Georgia coastline by Franciscan monks in 1571. But they likely wouldn't have made the same impact on the Georgia economy had it not been for the boll weevil.

After huge swaths of cotton were decimated by the pesky beetle, peaches, pecans, apples, and onions were planted to diversify the state's crops. Peach cobbler 1, Boll Weevil 0.

I was never a big fan of the peach, unless you're talking about cling peaches swimming in a vat of sugary syrup. But I love the idea of peaches -- plucked right off the tree, a refreshing and juicy treat on a warm summer day.

“Sunrise paints the sky with pinks and the sunset with peaches. Cool to warm. So is the progression from childhood to old age.”

― Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

Charlotte and her gang of barn animal friends found their way into my heart long ago. Everyone needs a friend like Charlotte, despite her arachnoid pedigree.

As a child, I read the dialogue between Charlotte and her pal Wilbur in a very matter of fact kind of way. But as I aged, I saw how deftly E. B. White wove into into his children's classics more nuanced life lessons. Without even realizing it, he had lured me into his own literary web. 

And I didn't mind one little bit......

“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what's a life, anyway? We're born, we live a little while, we die. A spider's life can't help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone's life can stand a little of that.” 

― E. B. White, Charlotte's Web 

Gilligan's Island is a slice of nostalgia cut straight from the heart of my own childhood.

On air from 1964-67, the show hit a cultural sweet spot with an audience still enamored with the supposed simplicity of the 1950's. Mary Ann, the proverbial "girl next door," was a real life beauty queen. Crowned Miss Nevada in 1959, Dawn Wells played the ingénue of the castaways with an understated flair.

What I didn't know until I became a minister was that creator Sherwood Schwartz crafted the characters, including Mary Ann, on the seven deadly sins.

Miss Wells died just a few days ago from COVID-19. One last castaway on the island.

Bon voyage sweet Mary Ann........

"You were always great fun and loved to laugh. Decades of laughter and good times together will remain with me always. Off the island, but forever in our hearts." – Barbara Eden (star of I Dream of Jeannie)

Today Billie Eilish turns 19.

The first time I understood the phenomenon that was Billie Eilish was the night back in January when she won an armful of Grammys, so many in fact that by the end of the show she looked positively embarrassed by her windfall. 

I later watched her interview with Gayle King on CBS Sunday Morning. During their time together she gave Gayle a tour of her childhood home, including the bedroom where she wrote nearly all of her songs. She had gone from singing into her hairbrush to stardom virtually overnight. 

There is no doubt it’s difficult to make it in the music business, but the culture of underestimating young women shouldn't be overlooked. Luckily for Billie, it was her voice and creativity that mattered and not the package it came in.

“It’s rare for anyone to value the opinions of a teenage girl.” — Billie Eilish

What do Easton PA, Orlando FL, Minneapolis MN, Plano TX and Chandler AZ all have in common? 

The Crayola Crayon of course!

Each of these five destinations are home to something called "The Crayola Experience," a creative and interactive crayon extravaganza. This is just the latest innovation since the first box of Crayola Crayons rolled off the production line way back in 1903. 

I remember the smell, feel, and palette of my childhood crayons well, an original set of 8. When I discovered there was a 64-crayon version WITH a built-in sharpener in the box, I was dazzled by the possibilities. Although never an artist, seeing that rainbow of colors sure made me wish I were.....

"Color is my day-long obsession, my joy and my torment." – Claude Monet

This morning when I woke up it was 18 degrees outside. There is a biting cold to the air today. And as we New Englanders say, you can smell snow in the air.

By the end of tomorrow there will be over a foot of snow covering the ground. But thoughts of shoveling and spreading salt and scraping windshields can wait. The best part of the snowstorm is right around the corner. It's the part where you throw a blanket over your lap and just watch the flakes topple from the sky......

“Snow flurries began to fall and they swirled around people's legs like house cats. It was magical, this snow globe world.” ― Sarah Addison Allen

My college roommate grew up in Sandy Hook, CT.

After becoming a nurse she returned to the town in which she was raised, to take a job in the Sandy Hook school system. She spent her days tending scraped knees and tummy aches until December 14, 2012. The day that changed her hometown forever.

26 voices were silenced that day. And we're still asking why.

"We are in a state of disbelief and trying to find whatever answers we can. We, too, are asking why." - Peter Lanza (father of the Sandy Hook shooter)

Our daily dose of daylight is shrinking. Colder temperatures are taking hold. Our required isolation due to concerns of infection remains.

December can be a tough month, even under the best of circumstances.

So let's just take it one step at a time. We don't need to move mountains. We just need to keep going. We don't need miracles. Just hope.

“Hope is holding in creative tension all that is, with everything that could and should be, and each day taking some action to narrow the distance between the two.” - Parker Palmer

Earlier this week was the 40th anniversary of the death of John Lennon.

I remember hearing he had been shot outside his home on the Upper West Side of NYC. It was a neighborhood with which I was familiar. Many years later I lived within ten blocks or so in an apartment I sublet for a short while. During that stretch I would often find myself walking by the Dakota, craning my neck to see into the courtyard I saw on the news that night in December of 1980. What if, I would wonder. What if......

John Lennon was a cultural icon, a musical genius, and a spirited advocate for peace. Apparently he came by this rightly, encouraged by his mother to value things our society often doesn't.

"When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life." - John Lennon

Today Buddhists across the globe celebrate Bodhi Day, the day when Siddhartha Gautama attained enlightenment.

Siddhartha was on a quest to discover the cause of suffering. For years he had followed a practice of extreme asceticism, avoiding all indulgences through a rigid display of self discipline. But eventually he decided to just sit underneath a tree and meditate. The answer came to him during this quiet and peaceful practice. Having gained enlightenment, he was finally free.

There is so much suffering in the world it can discourage even the most well-intentioned. So let us be inspired by the Buddha and reclaim our words as a first step on this journey. There are few things more powerful than language.

"The tongue is like a sharp knife. It kills without drawing blood." - Buddha

Bette Midler. The Divine Miss M. Loud, irreverent, sometimes bawdy, but always an original.

One day I confessed to my wife I had never seen Bette Midler in concert, despite loving her performances in "The Rose," "Beaches," and of course her take no prisoners persona in "The First Wives Club." Beth was aghast. She insisted we see Bette immediately but only if we could do it in Las Vegas. Nothing less would do. Ms. Midler was an original after all. It was Caesar's Palace or bust.

Bette Midler acts as a reminder of the importance of celebrating originality, even when it means being out of step with the conventions of the day. Viva la differénce.

"I didn't belong as a kid, and that always bothered me. If only I'd known that one day my differentness would be an asset, my early life would have been much easier." - Bette Midler

These days I spend a lot of time waiting.

I'm waiting for the world to feel safe again. I'm waiting to travel, to plan dinner parties, and to go museums. I'm waiting to hop on a subway car, go to a baseball game, and meander through the stacks of my local library.

I am a patient person by nature. But the past nine months have stretched my patience to the limit.

Simone Weil reminds me of the benefit of thinking differently about waiting. Perhaps waiting is not punishment but preparation.

"Waiting patiently in expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life." - Simone Weil

Every day I feel like I'm running a sprint. Full steam ahead. No looking back. Pedal to the metal.

Which works if you are busy checking tasks off a list. But if you're trying to untangle or change more complicated inbred behaviors, sprints don't cut it. Sometimes you need to grind out a marathon before reaching the finish line.

If your marathon feels more like a zigzag, take heart. We'll all get there eventually.

"History and movements do not move in straight lines. They swing, they go forward and backward and in zigzags." - Helen Zia

A few days ago, one of my favorite country music artists died of complications of early onset dementia. Hal Ketchum was just 67 years old.

I was a late comer to the country music scene, being fully immersed in the world of twang only after I moved to Montana. One day, after loving him from afar, I got the opportunity to meet Hal. We were both waiting for a flight at DFW airport. He was sitting across from me, sporting these scuffed up boots and faded jeans. But the hair. Oh that hair. It could make any girl swoon.

As a longtime fan, today's quote comes from his song, "Stay Forever." I only wish he could have......

"If you could see inside, this aching heart of mine. Maybe you would stay forever." - Hal Ketchum