What’s In Your Daily Planner?

What’s in your daily planner?

Be it Franklin, Moleskin, Lemome or one of the myriad of other planners, whatever you use for daily reminders, do you have a page devoted to a verse, message, picture or quote that inspires you to kick start your day?

I had these three messages taped to the front page of my planner for years, as I went about my sales chores. They weren’t the only impetus behind my ‘get up and go’. But they, along with others I kept, helped remind me of the dedication required and purposefulness of my work.

We’re surrounded by messages that help drive us and focus our energies, aren’t we. One sees them in books, posters, billboards, locker rooms.

The exit to my Army barracks had a message that’s been attributed to former auto exec, Lee Iacocca…

‘Lead, follow or get out of the way’

The barracks version was a little ‘saltier’, I recall. Seems an appropriate message for a military environment, or anyplace that invokes a team mission.

Shakespeare’s Hamlet has one of the best messages…

‘To thine own self, be true, then it shall follow, as night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man’

Great advice from a father to his son, but then, Shakespeare was good at using his work to give advice. I find this message helps remind us of our own ethics as we set course on our daily business.

Sales people are likely drawn to quotes, I believe, because their work is filled with ups and downs, highs and lows, negativity, as well as positivity. Starting thé day with a few poignant words might be the magic one needs to go after the challenge…

‘Unseen and Untold is Unsold’

The success of the mission is the burden that often saddles itself on the salesperson’s shoulders. The above words clearly make that point and drive the individual to succeed. And the following shows the importance of sales and salesmanship…

‘Nothing happens until something is sold’ (author unknown)

The author may be unknown but the message makes so much sense. The powerful image this creates is palpable. The successful salesperson is the machine that keeps the wheels of industry from grinding to a screeching halt. Think about it for a moment.

Do you doubt that words can propel people to act?

‘Never give up! Never!

Great Britain’s Prime Minister Winston Churchill gave hope and courage to a nation with those few words. During WWII.

‘Nuts!’

This was the reply of General Anthony McAuliffe to the overwhelming German force at the Battle of The Bulge in 1944. His smaller force kept up the fight and repelled the enemy. Words.

Again, what’s in your daily planner?

Steve B

Aug 2021

They Closed The Old ‘Ballpark’, Today…

The ‘boys’ came to play…

…but this time would be different.

Today would be their last game at the old ‘ballpark’, the grand finale, the wrap up, the capper. It’s time to move on to a bigger ‘ballpark’.

A bit melancholic, maybe, but Life is like that. Today’s celebration becomes tomorrow’s remembrance.

It didn’t matter that snow covered the field for this final game, it had to be played. They were paying homage to the field, itself, a patch of lawn where two young boys learned the finer points of baseball from their coach, a devoted dad who used the sport to teach his sons lessons about growing up, getting along and having fun.

players & player/coach/dad

Over summers, I spectated from the third base side, separated from the action by the street that divided our neighborhood, west and east, witnessing the growth of the ‘team’ from young boys first learning how to swing a bat to baseball fanatics becoming ‘sluggers at the plate’, albeit still youngsters.

Some epic games were played here, high scoring events, very high, as the ‘ballpark’ was in constant use during summer months. The whack of the bat on ball, plastic on plastic, closely followed by cheerful shouting as young hitters outraced the nimble fielder, their dad, for an extra base, or two, often winning with a tumbling slide.

It’s a bit sad when the last out of the last game is made. Players collect the bat, ball and bases, the gates are shuttered and the curtain comes down on the old ‘ballpark’. It’s time to move on. It’s the same with families.

Our young neighbors and the ‘team’ are doing just that, moving on. We’ve enjoyed their friendship for 10 years and wish them well, knowing they’ll do fine. They have strong values of faith and love for one another.

As for the ‘team’, when it was all said and done, they moved on, hand in hand, likely learning more lessons from their ‘coach’.

The new field will be nice but the memories of the old field, their first ‘ballpark’, will stay with them forever. Life is like that…

Steve (031823)

For Jonathan, Eva, Noah & Jacob

Today, I Shoveled Snow…Again!

I’ve posted this in the past but every new snow event has me coming back to it. Today, March 11 and approaching Spring, was no different. A fresh coating of snow with more on the way next week brought out the story to share, again. Please enjoy and maybe recall your own youthful days when you were expected to do chores around the house…

https://srbottch.com/2021/02/10/today-i-shoveled-snow-2/

Winter Scarves: A Love Story

Scarf

So warm, this knitted scarf: a treasure beyond worth, that hides within each woven stitch her heart.*

* Copyright © Nick Ruff | Year Posted 2008

Winter winds blow cold in western New York, especially along the icy shores of the easternmost Great Lake, Ontario. And, while the calendar tells us the dates for ‘old man winter’, Mother Nature determines when it really begins and ends. In these parts, that can be anytime from November thru March, five long months, not three.

Even April has been known to harbor cold winds and wet snows.

Combating those elements and keeping the chill at bay becomes the ultimate seasonal challenge. This winter I met that challenge head on, or should I say ‘neck and shoulder’ on, with some degree of success. How?

SCARVES!

Not just any scarf, mind you, but homemade scarves, in a variety of colors, sizes and designs, patterns, as they’re called.

Scarves long enough to cross in front and drape down, keeping your torso warm, or scarves to wrap thickly around your neck as an even stronger barrier against the weather. Scarves that are a bit wide and can be converted to a shawl, a ‘man shawl’, mind you.

And it goes without saying that while these scarves are functional, keeping the elements out and the warmth in, they are a fashion statement, as well, not that I’m concerned about looks. But who doesn’t mind occasional flattery, some ‘oohs and aahs?

These scarves, a dozen by count, are hand knitted by my wife as a hand therapy exercise. I’m the beneficiary and each time I wear one, which is daily, it may be cold, but I feel wrapped in a layer of love, something else to keep me a little bit warmer.

Mother Nature may win the war, as she often does, but with the help of my scarves, I occasionally win a battle.

Do you have a favorite scarf? Tell me about it. And stay warm…

Steve (030923)

Carl G. Bottcher & Sons, Painters

If you lived in central Massachusetts and wanted to freshen up your home or office with a clean, colorful coat of paint, there’s a good chance that you called the Carl G Bottcher & Sons painting company.

If a church needed to spruce up its rectory or a pharmaceutical lab needed to make those gray walls grayer, Carl G Bottcher & Sons would often get the bid call.

If a color or stain needed to be perfectly matched, Carl G Bottcher & Sons had the expertise and eye to do it, before the age of computer generated color matching.

The Carl G Bottcher & Sons painting company was renowned throughout central New England for painting the interiors and exteriors of fine homes, offices and churches. It was a union shop started by my immigrant grandfather in the early 20th century.

From Grandfather, to father and uncle, to brother, the Carl G Bottcher painting name survived and flourished, adding color and beauty to neighborhoods around the Worcester area for more than a hundred years.

My last surviving brother, Carl, recently passed. He was approaching 89 and was a proud successful 3rd generation painter using the same surname, Bottcher, a name that had been well known and respected in the local painting scene.

At various times, all four of my sibling brothers and I worked for the painting company. Upon learning the trade, Carl ventured off to begin his own company, propagating the painting Bottcher name into the 21sf Century.

Other Bottchers, including brothers, uncles, cousins and nephews, dabbled in the painting trade, as well, in Massachusetts and on the west coast, Oregon, but the Carl G Bottcher name was the progenitor of all to follow.

With my brother Carl’s passing, the name may have ended its run. However, when the Northeast fall season blesses us with its full palette of colors, I like to think the painting Bottchers in Heaven were enlisted for advice. And when the ‘pearly gates’ open to greet you, you might just see a few angels in painters overalls. Carl would be the newest with the cleanest pair.

R.I.P., brother…

Carl G Bottcher

Steve (022223)

‘Fire In The Hole”: Male Bonding?

Ratatat! Ratatat! Ratatat! Bang! Bang! Ratatat…and on and on for the ‘longest brief moment’. And loud! Oh, was it loud!

The old man next door came out of his house as the police arrived. At the same time, my sister burst into my bedroom like a SWAT officer looking for the perps.

She found them, two perps, 16 and 21, my future brother-in-law, pending her inquisition, and me, quietly having a nervous laugh at the ruckus we caused. A few long strips of firecrackers tossed out the bedroom window into the neighbor’s yard on a hot summer night, and a sister’s wrath, can do that, make you nervous, and laugh.

“Sounded like gunfire”, the old man told the officers.

In 1963 shootings were extremely rare. No, this was just a case of old-fashion ‘male bonding*’, not to be confused with ‘boys will be boys’.

“Am I wrong”, as Seinfeld’s George Costanza would often ask

* male bonding or male friendship is the formation of close personal relationships, and patterns of friendship or cooperation between males. (Wikipedia)

Generally, male bonding occurs when there’s some common goal to be achieved by struggling together: surviving a challenge, winning a game, meeting a target, something that brings two or more men together in achieving and strengthening a relationship. Surviving the verbal blows of an enraged sister might be a good example.

Then, there’s the action of professional golfer, Tiger Woods, who made news this week when cameras caught him passing a female hygiene product to a fellow competitor whom he had just out driven, suggesting that his foe hit like a girl, weak. They were bonding, according to the apologetic Tiger.

Was it innocent? Probably. Funny? Not really, at least not for public consumption. ‘Male bonding’? No, it was crass, locker room stuff. Even the firecracker affair rose to a higher level.

As to that episode, I think the ‘perps’ learned a lesson in growing up. My future BIL and I did bond and had a good summer. My sister married him and he’s done well by her for 58 years.

What’s your take on Tiger’s behavior, and your favorite memory of bonding? Surely, you have one. All stories are welcome.

Steve (021923)

To my. sister & brother-in-law. you’ve ‘bonded’ well

Love On The Sidewalk…

It happened in a most awkward way, as love is wont to do. A thrown kiss, a wink, a wave and a look of expectation that it would be returned. But I would have none of it.

Alas, my misguided ego momentarily led me to believe that I was the target of the young gentleman’s affection, when, in actuality, I was caught in a crossfire, a crossfire of love, playing out on the sidewalk of my favorite coffee shop in the town center.

But it was over as quickly as it happened. The February breeze carried the romantic gesture past me to the attractive young woman at my back, the target of his affection. Her reply mirrored his, lovingly thrown back. I stepped aside and let it pass, unbroken.

Not a word was spoken between them but it was obvious by their flirtatious comportment, this was unabashed love, love on the sidewalk. And it was on display for anyone to see. I saw it because I’m an observer of people, especially those who blow kisses my way, albeit, inadvertently.

It’s winter in western New York and with that comes a string of cold temperatures and depressing cloudy skies. It can be overbearing. Today, however, the air was warmer, the sun was filling the sky and moods changed. Gaiety filled the air. And there was love, love on the sidewalk.

The humorist in me wanted to ask if the kisses were meant for me, but I bit my tongue and held back. Why spoil a good street performance with a silly annoyance.

Valentine’s Day is upon us. Love sightings will abound. Will you observe them?

Happy Valentine’s Day to lovers everywhere…

Steve #021423

Today, I Bid Farewell To An Old Friend…

It’s difficult saying goodbye to an old friend, a lifetime friend. I did that today, somberly and with complete sobriety.

We enjoyed decades of each other’s company: long walks over green fields, side treks into brush and woods, sidestepping water, back and forth into sandy patches. But today was a time to say goodbye.

Early on, I carried my friend on my back, slightly bent from the weight and mumbling, sometimes cursing, as we went along, not in anger but in frustration As I aged and carrying was too challenging, I pushed my friend in a cart. We were inseparable in sun, rain and wind.

We always seemed to end our walks on a good note, motivating us to return for more.

—————————

My dad gave me my first set of golf clubs, MacGregor Tourney irons and woods. I was 16. It was 1962.

We became inseparable: together on family golf outings, airplane rides to sales meetings and always in the car on business calls. This was the friend that I bid adieu in a rather unceremoniously way when I made a donation to second hand shop

I’m beginning a different stage of Life, the declutter stage, the new catchphrase for seniors of a certain ilk. Looking around the house, I realize there’s a potpourri of ‘stuff’ that I no longer use, will never use. Time to declutter.

But it’s hard to declutter an old friend.

One thing I won’t declutter is all the memories I have that center around golf and those special clubs. It’s not hard to close my eyes and enjoy a tsunami of good times golfing with friends, brothers and especially my dad.

I hope someone will spy these clubs at the second hand store, buy them at a give away price and start making their own memories.

As more decluttering continues, somebody is really going to love the button down dress shirts and brown wingtip shoes I’m donating. I’ll just never use them again.

What about you? Is decluttering in your plans?

Steve (021723)

Quotes on golf and decluttering

“Golf… is the infallible test. The man who can go into a patch of rough alone, with the knowledge that only God is watching him, and play his ball where it lies, is the man who will serve you faithfully and well.” – P.G. Wodehouse

“Golf is a good walk spoiled” – Mark Twain

“Out Of Clutter, Find Simplicity” – Albert Einstein

“Your Home Is Living Space – NOT Storage Space” – Unknown

‘Cheeky Business’

What’s the saying, “every dark cloud has a silver lining”? It’s true, with the right circumstances, one can find it, even in something as daunting as COVID.

Like many of you, I’d been jabbed once, twice, quadrupled even. Nevertheless, as we’ve learned and as medical science has confirmed, jabs don’t guarantee immunity to COVID and all its permutations, but the extra protection…well, it’s just extra.

And if a little extra is good, then why not have more? Thanks to a challenging immune system, I became a candidate for more, Evushield.

Evusheld is meant for candidates like me, those with immune system issues who willingly follow a trusted doctor’s advice for the promise of an extra barrier against COVID, albeit for a brief period, 6 months, I believe.

But that’s not the silver lining.

Evusheld is a two shot process, one in each cheek, the big cheeks. This story is enjoyed best if you visualize it.

If my memory serves me, my last cheeky injection was from a pediatrician. And the last ‘double shot’ may have been in a bar in Cleveland. Before that, Uncle Sam protected me with two shots, one in each arm as I walked the ‘gauntlet’ of medics at the Fort Ord Army reception center. I was protected against everything except the harassment.

With Evushield, the shots were given by two very affable and capable young nurses, positioned behind me, kneeling, I assume. But that’s not the ‘silver lining’. In fact, truthfully, it made me a bit anxious.

Here’s the real ‘silver lining’. The good humor nurses explained the process and wiped away any trepidation and what was a serious discussion initially, quickly turned into light banter, as they prepared two needles. Humor is the great relaxer.

When the order was given, “stand up and turn around”, our banter continued. I was relaxed, even as the feel of latex gloves grabbed hold to keep me in place.

Then the countdown began. ‘3-2-1-jab!” I thought I was listening to a SpaceX launch.

Why the countdown and why two nurses? The shots have to be given simultaneously, one in each side. The serum must meet in the middle and blend, right?

An hour in recovery followed and I went home with a good story. Butt for the early hour, it was just another chapter in my notebook of COVID stories, this time, a story of good people and good humor.

(photo courtesy of Internet)

And I love a good story.

Steve B

To nurses on the front line who do remarkable work under stressful conditions