More than fifty years ago I was enrolled in the Counselor Education program at USC. To gain practical experience, we were expected to provide counseling services to members of the community on a volunteer basis.

That is how I met Sally. She was one of the clients to whom I was providing therapy.

Sally, at the age of 45, wanted to go back to school to earn a Master’s degree as a clinical psychologist. The problem was, she had never earned her bachelor’s degree.

Now some people might have been daunted by that obstacle.  It’s hard to start over at the beginning when you are approaching an age when most people are well into their careers. But not Sally. She successfully completed her bachelor’s degree, and then and went on to complete her M.S. degree. I caught up with Sally just as she was graduating. And yet, while she had achieved her goal of getting her M.S. degree, her challenges weren’t over. Full time jobs were scarce for a fifty-five-year-old. But, Sally worked diligently and with the same determination she had shown in getting her bachelor and M.S. degrees. In her search for a job, she sent out a thousand resumes. In the end, she was hired as the director of the mental health clinic of a small town in Kansas.

I learned a very important lesson from Sally.  No matter your age, or where you are in life, it is always a good time to begin. Didn’t the famed painter Grandma Moses begin her serious art career at age 78? (This was after her hands had become too arthritic to continue to do fine needlework.)

So if there is something you’ve always wanted to do, or if there are any important items still on your bucket list — why not start planning right now? A trip to Tibet, anyone? You can begin by looking up Tibet on Wikipedia. As the proverb goes, “The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”

I’m writing this blog on Monday morning and already have three telephone calls I need to answer, so for now you’re on your own. I’ll leave you to plan your next successful life adventure. Then all you have to do is take the first step.

Philadelphia, anyone?

Alan

I’m generally in a good mood, even when I’m working through challenges. But a few weeks ago, for an entire day, I felt sad.  There is a branch of psychology that studies the science of happiness. The thinking is that each of us has a baseline level of happiness, and that even when we experience setbacks, such as a day of sadness, we eventually return to our baseline. Fortunately, my baseline for happiness is steady and remains quite high.

But on the day I was feeling sad I felt the way one might as they are about to leave a grand and wonderful party.  The specific party I’m referring to is my business — ACF Property Management, Inc. — that I began on March 1, 1968. That party is still, most definitely, in full swing and roaring on. The ACF orchestra has had some turnover in its ranks, but we are still here, the Philharmonic of Property Management, continuing to make wonderful music.

I’ve enjoyed the celebration. The conflicts have been relatively few, the psychological cost reasonable, and the rewards, in terms of family, friends, and finances (the three Fox “f’s”) — beyond my fondest dreams.

I’m normally someone who makes plans, but I must admit that I never planned to become 85. My dad lived to be 104, and his father was, I believe, 91 when his party ended, so I imagine I have some time to bask in the glow of having thrown such a fantastic shindig for more than 55 years.

So, now you’re all invited to the festivities. Please stay as long as you can. We’re long past the soup, salad, and salmon, but I’ve heard rumors that the final courses are the best of all — Baked Alaska (or California) should spark some satisfaction.

And for those of you having a birthday anytime during the next twelve months, the best day to start your party is today.

Life is meant to be lived to its fullest, and science says you can elevate your state of happiness with certain practices such as self-care and gratitude. I’m starting today by being grateful and giving myself permission to take another turn around the dance floor before they bring out the dessert.

Hugs to all.

Alan

I learned many lessons from my dad. Some of them were useful, but there is one I’ve had to unlearn.  

When I was a child, I loved Major League Baseball. I even remember taking a transistor radio to school to listen to the World Series games during recess and on my walk home.

This was before major league baseball was broadcast on television — only on the radio, reported by a sportscaster who wasn’t watching the game live. With play-by-play narration and added sound effects (crowds cheering and bats cracking) the sportscaster would make it sound as if he was actually at the game, even though he was just recreating it after the fact. (A little-known story: Ronald Reagan early in his career was a sportscaster recreating games in this way for the Chicago Cubs).

One weekend my dad offered to bet me a nickel that the Yankees would be leading the game 1-0 at the end of the third inning. A strangely specific bet, but I thought my odds were pretty good so I took it. 

When the Yankees were at bat at the top of the third inning the score was 0-0. I felt extremely confident, so I kept betting more and more, until I was risking the hefty sum of $2.50 (money I didn’t have) against my dad’s fifty-five cents.  (I gave him odds, as the game progressed.)

What could possibly go wrong?  Merely a Yankee solo home run, with two outs, in the top of the third inning.

I lost the bet, and was devastated thinking about the hours I would have to pull weeds or perform other chores to earn the money I now owed to my father. An hour later Dad innocently said, “Didn’t Mom tell you?  I had advance information.” My father had known the outcome of the game and had lured me into betting against him to teach me a lesson. 

 He did. 

Perhaps the intended lesson was that I shouldn’t gamble. But at the tender age of eight, I felt as if my father had cheated me, and learned, basically, not to trust my dad.  

And the last time I bet on anything was more than thirty years ago in Las Vegas when I bet $5,000 on the Super Bowl. My team was covering the spread until late in the game. And that’s why I’ve never bet on a sporting event since.

After all, I sit at the gaming table of real estate, five days a week. 

Alan