Yearly Archives

I was introduced to Shakespeare in my ninth grade journalism class when we studied the play Julius Caesar.

I still remember the famous “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” oration by Brutus, but the speech that sticks most in my memory was the one spoken to Brutus by a nobleman.

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

“The fault…is…in ourselves.”  Hmmm.

This means it makes no difference if the dog really did eat your homework.  You, and you alone, are responsible for your responsibilities.

I say this out of pragmatism, and not as a moral judgment. If other people, or dogs, are responsible for your life, then you have no power to make any changes, and your life is completely subject to the whims of other people (or to the plans of your dog).

Another way of looking at this:  you can change a great deal of what happens to you in your life, all by yourself.  You can lose or gain weight, wear formal or informal clothes, or binge watch TV shows all day and all night on Saturday.  You don’t need approval or permission from anyone else.

But if you would rather hand over control of your life to someone else, I would be happy to eat your homework.  No salt, please.

Alan

Last Sunday afternoon I enjoyed five hours with my family and friends at the Magic Castle in Hollywood.  Though I have visited the Magic Castle many times since it opened in 1963, last Sunday’s visit was special.  First, because we had two young children with us, enjoying magic for the very first time, and second because on weekends the “junior” magicians perform live in the three Magic Castle theaters.

On the “Close Up” stage a seventeen year old entertained us with his excellent (though not yet perfect) sleight-of-hand card and coin tricks.  I am always “fooled” by magic, and I hope to will always retain my sense of wonder.

This morning I read an obituary for Ricky Jay, a well-known magician who had frequently performed at the Magic Castle. One of Jay’s mentors was the famous magician Charlie Miller, who died in 1989 at the age of eighty.  Jay was quoted as saying, “Charlie was always trying to learn and refine and invent.  I don’t think he ever stopped thinking about it.  I think when Charlie finally died, he had the most famous classic 19^th century magic text on his night table.”

I call that dedication.  I also call it commitment. Charlie was committed to investing in himself.

During my business career I have invested in many other businesses.  At least eighty percent of those investments totally failed.  The last significant investment I made was more than ten years ago, and after (unexpectedly) investing more than four hundred hours of my own time, in addition to a substantial amount of money, I finally received my money back, together with a small profit.  But I will never recover the lost hours of my life.

My best investments have not been in dollars.  My best investments have been in my education in Accounting, Law, Psychology, and Professional Writing, in my business experience, and in time spent with my family both at home and traveling.

Vince Lombardi, one of the most successful football coaches ever, said, ”The quality of a person’s life is in direct proportion to their commitment to excellence, regardless of their chosen field of endeavor.”

I always want to perform better today than I did yesterday, and better tomorrow than today.  That is why every day I aim to learn more about myself and the world we live in.

Money is great.  The value of my time and life is greater.

I can sum up my thought in one short sentence.

Invest in yourself – it’s magic.

Alan

My mother and my father were both professional musicians.  In fact, they met as teenagers in an all-star high school orchestra. My mother played the trumpet and flute, my father the French horn. As you might expect, as a child I was encouraged (I might say required) to learn to play both piano and French horn.

At thirteen, my parents signed me up to study composing with Joseph Oroop, a passionate man with an unusual name.

The best part of the lesson was the streetcar ride to and from Mr. Oroop’s home.

One day Mr. Oroop questioned my participation.

“Mr. Fox,” he said, a bit formally.  “I would like to know something.  You have taken harmony lessons from me for three months.  My other students are either very enthusiastic and bring me their own compositions, or they drop out.  You are a mystery.  Each week I give you an assignment, you go home, you work on the assignment, and you bring it back.  But so far you haven’t gotten excited and started to compose any additional work, and you haven’t dropped out.  What’s going on with you?”

I was surprised, but thought he asked a very good question.  I considered it for a week, and at my next lesson told Mr. Oroop that I was dropping out.

While I would have liked to become a brilliant composer (or a brilliant anything for that matter), I lacked both enthusiasm and any great ability for composing music.  But I did learn an important lesson from Mr. Oroop. It’s not enough to simply go through the motions.  It’s important for each of us to figure out what we like to do and what we have an aptitude for.  Hopefully, we can match the two.

Of course, I often have to learn the same lesson more than once before it sticks.

Toward the end of my first year of law school Professor Richard Wicks, who taught contract law, called me into his office.

He was not as formal as Mr. Oroop, but delivered a similar message.  “Alan, you’ve been in my class for almost two semesters.  You are always prepared, you answer my questions when I call on you, but you certainly aren’t working up to your ability.  You’re not enthusiastic.  I encourage you to get more involved and start enjoying the study of law.”

I didn’t drop out of law school, but I also did not become more enthusiastic.  Perhaps I should have, at that time, worked more diligently to follow my passion to become a writer.  I did that twenty-five years later.

The title of this blog is ripples.  Like a stone dropping into a pond, each of us causes ripples, for better or for worse, in the lives of those we know.  And often we never find out the effect that we have had.

There are many ripples in the lake of my life, and I give thanks to Mr. Oroop and Professor Wicks for taking the time to notice me, and caring enough to help me find my calling.  I hope to pay it forward by helping others to do the same.

Alan