With Memorial day weekend upon us, hopefully everyone is outside enjoying much needed fresh air. And, when I think of Memorial Day, I think of bar-b-ques. A thought I do not believe the current situation will change. In fact,  I believe we need our bar-b-ques even more this year. So the natural question is, what is your preference? Are you a hamburger person or hotdog person? Or both?  

This time of year, I usually look to gather lists of summer concerts, many free, to recommend. Not this year. Often, the discussions about music involve what great show got canceled, postponed or rescheduled. Not sure how many texts and emails I’ve exchanged with my friend Jason about changes involving shows planned at Jones Beach this year.

Boy are we angry...having been out and about (don't worry, mask and gloves are on) I can tell you that people are angry. Apparently a lot of pent-up tension.  

Her name was Mary Mallon and she was a rich man’s cook in the early 20th century.   Trouble was that she was an asymptomatic carrier of Typhoid Fever. She denied being “sick” all her life, but she was caught up in the conflict between public health and individual rights. She ended up living out her life in isolation.  

The little notification beep on my phone tells me that there’s motion in my backyard. Sometimes it’s the Cardinal enjoying a snack. Weeks ago, when this was just beginning, we put a little birdseed on the deck to see what would happen. After a few days the cardinals appeared. A sweet couple - bright red with a black face and soft brownish-red.

“Take the trip, buy the shoes, eat the cake” We’ve all heard that line before and felt its familiar tug, reminding us that life is better when it’s lived, fully. Trading coffee with your family, for on-time arrival to the office, or skipping the walk after lunch, to meet a deadline are familiar, as well. Choices are made many times in a day, probably a hundred times or more. In hindsight, COVID-19 will forever remind me to “take the trip, buy the shoes, and eat the cake”. While the pleasures of freedoms-past visit me daily, it has me planning for future delights.

  As the spring semester of my son’s sophomore year in college comes to a close, I'm not going to lie -- he does miss being on campus.  But an interesting phenomenon has unfolded in my house.

Last week I sat in my new home office--otherwise known as my daughter’s old bedroom--looking at an 800 page deposition transcript that I had to read. Rather than sit in the office and read, I moved to my living room. I made myself a cup of coffee, put my feet up and began reading.