That House on the Corner

My neighbor died, and I am sad.

Not the actual House. Image generated by AI to protect privacy

Not because I will miss him, but because I never got to know him.

He just was the man who lived in That House on the Corner.

We’ve lived here, right next door to That House on the Corner, for more than four years, and I’ve laid eyes on the guy only three times.

The first time, he was in his backyard, and I was just coming out into mine. I waved. He waved back and walked inside. It was winter and I guess he was cold. I think he’d just brought his dog inside.

The second time I saw him was several months later. The guy from That House on the Corner was out front with his dog. The dog came over to greet me, and I waved to “Herman” (that’s when I finally learned his name, which, by the way, is not really Herman but we’ll call him that here to protect the family’s privacy) and I walked up to introduce myself and shake his hand. The conversation lasted maybe three minutes. He seemed nice enough, just not a talker, I guess.

A few months later, after we were somewhat more settled into our new house and not embarrassed about boxes and disarray of having just moved in, we reached out to a bunch of our neighbors to invite them to our home for a little meet-and-greet. Although we had met many of them at this point, we still really hadn’t had a chance to socialize much. The idea was to get to know more of our neighbors.

Of course, we invited the people from That House on the Corner. His wife came, but “Herman” didn’t. We learned later that our event was the first time many of our other neighbors had met anyone from That House on the Corner, too.

Over the course of the next couple of years, we saw his wife occasionally from time to time, usually at our respective mailboxes. A quick ‘Hi, how ya doing?” But that was about it.

The third and last time I saw “Herman” was a night just a couple of weeks ago. His wife called in a panic. “Herman” had been having difficulties recently with his legs and had a walker (we had no idea), but that evening, his legs gave out completely and he could not get up from the dining room table.

She needed help moving him into the living room.

Of course, I went to help. That’s what neighbors do, even if we are practically strangers.

There he was sitting at the table, trying to get up and use his walker, but his legs were completely unable to move. He seemed a little confused, and perhaps a little embarrassed about his condition. He had no idea who I was, but that didn’t matter to me.

“Herman” was a big guy, much taller than I, but I moved the table out of the way, hugged him into a standing position, lifted him into the seat of his walker (which had no back to lean on) and carried/wheeled him into the living room where I lifted him again into the recliner. We had to do some shifting around before he was seated comfortably but ultimately got him settled, while his wife prepared to call for an ambulance.

“Herman” went to the hospital, had a couple of more strokes while he was there, and was back and forth between the hospital and rebab over the next couple of weeks. We stayed in touch with his wife, texting for updates every couple of days. Their children came in from wherever they live far away, but I knew she had some support there.

Then we got the message from her. “Herman” passed away.

I share this story, not to just to share the sadness of his passing, but for the missed opportunities.  

We had no idea all this had been going on inside That House on the Corner. We never saw “Herman” and his wife never mentioned anything about his condition on the rare occasions we saw her. Really, they were complete strangers.

I don’t know what ever happened to the dog, either. He was an older, but handsome, standard poodle, or some sort of poodle mix. We occasionally saw the dog out in the backyard and on rare occasions heard him bark when we first moved in. But it was so rare that we really didn’t even notice when we stopped seeing or hearing him out there.

How could we have been so oblivious about That House on the Corner?

Like most people in suburban homes, we usually go in and out through our garages, rather than the front door. Our front doors both face the same street, but their garage is on the far side and, as a corner lot, faces a different street, so there was not even a rare wave from the driveway, because we couldn’t see their driveway from ours.

So, truly, strangers, living only a few dozen feet apart, with practically no contact. Blind to each other’s lives, troubles, successes, needs, and joys. And it was the same with most of the other people in our neighborhood. No one really got to know the people that lived in That House on the Corner either.

And now there is no chance to capture what could have been.

And yet, through this tragedy, there is a tiny spark of light. I couldn’t do much at the time other than to help him get into a more comfortable position and advise his wife to call for medical attention. I am just glad I was able to even that little bit.

I cannot imagine what she would have been going through if she had to try to help her husband on her own that night. What if she had not thought to reach out, or if she felt she couldn’t ask, or that she would be rejected?

Nobody knew the people in That House on the Corner, and similarly, they didn’t seem to know many people here in the community, either. But having been to our small neighborhood gathering, his wife had an opportunity to meet some of us and know that she was welcome. I’d like to think that that small gesture emboldened her enough to call for help when she needed it.

Our sense of community is critical to our survival. I think we all have a natural feeling of community toward one another, and that we would all come to the aid of a neighbor’s cry for help – even if we really don’t know each other. I believe that is in our base nature and I know there truly is goodness in most people’s hearts.

Dr. Mary Tyszkiewicz*, a researcher who has studied disaster and emergency readiness for decades, has discovered that people will naturally come to the aid of someone in danger. All it takes is one person to initiate the response, whether it’s the first person to start helping, or the person who is bold enough to ask for help.

But the key element to remember in all of this is that we do not go through life alone. No matter what the tragedy, hardship or disaster you may face, there is always someone who can be of help. Maybe they’ve experienced the same thing, maybe they have special training or knowledge in a certain field, or maybe they are just a spare pair of hands and a strong back who can be there when you need a hand.

Don’t live your life alone. Reach out in your community. Get to know the people around you.

You never know when you may need their help, or even better, when you can help them.

Open your door, open your mind, and open your heart.

 

* Dr. Mary Tyszkiewicz is author of “Practicing For The Unimaginable: The Heroic Improv Cycle” and  founder of Heroic Improv where she implements the results of her research teaching improvisational theater practices to prepare people for responding to high-stakes emergencies.

We're Not Just Decluttering, We're Sharing Memories

It has been a pretty emotional couple of weeks. As the summer season began, we’ve been taking advantage of yard sale season, participating in several community and local sales to declutter our home and share some of the treasures we’ve collected over the years. As we were sorting through household stuff, decorative items, collectibles, music and clothing, nearly every item brought back a flood of memories.

By nature, much of what we amass and hold onto are things that have been passed down from our parents and grandparents, and we keep them for years not wanting to let go. But there comes a time when they need to move on. It becomes time for someone else to enjoy them.

Last week also coincided with what would have been my mother’s 88^th birthday and my mother-in-law’s 104^th birthday, and with Mother’s Day not too long ago and Father’s Day coming up, it became harder and harder to put things on the sale tables.

It was heart-wrenching at times with the heartless bartering -- “Would you take fifty cents for this?” or “I’ll give you a quarter for that.” How can people be so cold and cruel? Don’t they realize these items represent lives and memories?

Then I remembered that I may have done that myself at yard sales sometimes in the past, so it certainly changed my perspective.

And then there were some people who treated each item with reverence. Understanding the stories behind the items and even asking to hear the background.

Retelling about mom’s life as a performer, and how she dressed up every day of her life. Or about the sewing machine she used to make costumes she wore performing in talent shows.

Or the records with songs my grandmother and grandfather used to sing (badly) around the house. Or the toys we played with as kids, Or the decorative pieces and trinkets we picked up traveling – each one a memory.

Memories of grandma taking me to see the Empire State Building because I love the (original) King Kong movie, or grandpa taking me to Coney Island to try to win prizes on the boardwalk.

Or how we used the cassette duplicator to make demo tapes to send out to venues when my wife and I managed a band.

People listened intently, wanting to hear the stories.

One young girl and her mother asking about the little booklets called Port Guides from the late 70s and early 80s that I used in the Navy to educate my fellow sailors about customs in various ports of call.

Another fascinated with colorful pieces of vintage costume jewelry.

The 1939 World’s Fair ashtray my grandfather used. A dinosaur-shaped telephone that could be set to roar as well as ring – and that I forgot to warn my wife about that when I set it up.

And the fur coat mom bought for herself to boost her self-esteem after her divorce.

So hard to let these things go.

But such an uplifting experience to know that the memories will live on as each person took with them, not just the items, but the stories behind them that they will retell.

We had several people visit our yard sale who remembered our stories from previous years and told us how they retell those stories when people ask about items they bought from us in the past.

Overall, it has been a beautiful experience, sad in some ways, uplifting in others. And freeing as we continue to declutter the physical environment and share the emotions and memories. 

A big thank you to those who helped us ensure these memories will continue to live on, bringing joy for others.

Call me Naive

Someone called me "naive" the other day.

Perhaps in some ways that may be true.
But in my naivete, I work to protect the innocent, the underdog, and the repressed from the selfish, the bullies and the bigots.

Maybe I can't make a difference in the world scheme of things, but, being naive, I won't acknowledge that and will keep fighting for what I've been taught was the right way to treat people.

Maybe, being naive, I can't see that helping one person among the billions of people on this planet, it may be unachievable to change the world.

Maybe.

But also, maybe that naive persistence will strike fear in the selfish, the bullies and the bigots.
Fear that I might be right.
Fear that maybe I can make a difference after all.

And maybe that fear will cause some of those selfish bullies and bigots to feel they need to lash out and call me naive.

Okay.
I am fine with that.

Join me in my naivete. Let's work together against oppression, discrimination, meanness, and intolerance.

If each of us just helps one other, imagine the impact we can have together. 

Maybe I can't save all the starfish that have been cast from the sea all by myself. But I can toss them back in one at a time.
Wanna help me?

hashtag#shareyourfire
hashtag#leadership
hashtag#tolerance
hashtag#kindness

"Meep! Meep!"

 

Right now, it may seem as if we are poor Wile E. Coyote, doomed to fail at every attempt to be successful. All the plans and preparations we have made for our careers and our future, our health and happiness, seem to be blocked, sidetracked, or foiled, and the light at the end of the tunnel is inevitably an oncoming train.

No matter what Wile E. attempts to do, he is always ultimately ineffective and unsuccessful. His target, the Road Runner, is always completely unscathed in the end and never truly gets disrupted by all of the Coyote’s shenanigans.

What defeats Wile E. are the lack of logic, common sense, compassion, and dignity. 

And the Road Runner always wins because he refuses to even acknowledge the craziness caused by the Coyote.

No matter how it may seem, WE are not Wile E. Coyote.

We are, and must be, the Road Runner!

We must continue on our path, not be distracted by the insane attempts to destroy us, and perhaps, even be the driver of that oncoming train and foil the plans of the Coyote.  

Image ©1961 Chuck Jones, “Zip n’ Snort”

Understanding our impact!

Every interaction we have with someone else has the potential to make a huge difference, whether we intend it to or not. What we say, what we do, or maybe even how we say it, can have a far-reaching impact. 

Imagine this: On your drive to work someone rudely cuts you off on the highway, making you miss the exit and then you get stuck in heavy traffic trying to loop back around. By the time you get to the parking garage, you’re cranky, frazzled, rushed. 

Walking across the street from the parking lot to your office, you pass a homeless person on the corner. He's a regular and you see him there every day, maybe you've exchanged pleasantries from time to time, or perhaps, even occasionally, you've given him a buck or two. But today, you're not in the mood. Sure, you've got some extra change in your pocket, but that incident on the highway is still haranguing you, so you don't want to be bothered and are not in the mood to acknowledge the guy’s outstretched hand. Maybe you even snarl at him to leave you alone. Other people see you ignore him and emulate your indifference, also deciding to ignore him. Unbeknownst to you, the homeless guy is diabetic and doesn’t get enough money to buy food that day, he suffers a medical crisis that evening. But you know nothing about that, you're just storming into your office late because of that idiot on the highway. 

When you finally get in the office - you’re still off your game. Maybe in your bad mood, you snap at your coworker, Sara. Now Sara’s in a bad mood. Her whole day is thrown off and she gets snippy with others. Everyone else in the office notices the tension, now they are all stressed. They go home carrying that stress, wind up being impatient and intolerant, maybe yell at their kids over something petty,  or don’t take time to help their kids with their homework and the kids feel the tension, can't focus on studying and fail their test the next day. 

See how things can snowball? This is the power that we are capable of wielding. 

Stan Lee, creator of Spider-Man and much of the original stable of Marvel superheroes, paraphrased a quote originated by French author Voltaire in the 1700s, “With great power there must also come great responsibility.” 

So how will you wield your power? The only difference between a superhero and a villain is how they use their power. 

Here’s your challenge: Review the above scenario – think about what alternative reactions and actions could have taken place to change the entire scenario into something positive, effective, or productive. Now, think about recent situations you have been through - are there things you could have changed to reach a healthier outcome?  

 #ShareYourFire #TorchTip #Learn #Growthmindset #leadershipskills #teambuilding #personaldevelopment #Trust #Opportunity #Respect #Communication #Humanity #selfreflection

Knowledge not shared is knowledge lost

In recognition of National Author's Day, I’d like to remind you to share your story. Whatever that story may be.

Throughout our lives and careers, we have learned things. We learned from our successes. We’ve learned when things didn’t go as planned. We learned from our experiences, from the people around us, from the influences of nature.

Whether it is how to accomplish a task, what not to do in a certain type of situation, behaviors to emulate – or even those to avoid – each and every one of us has something to share with others.

That knowledge is the light that guides us in the darkness, and the fire that provides us warmth. 

That light, that fire, should not be wasted, lost, nor allowed to burn out. It needs to be shared so that others may benefit. 

Think about this. When we want to know something, learn how to do something, wonder about the quality of a product or service, or just answer a question. What do we do?  We turn to the internet, open a book, look up a video on YouTube, look up reviews on Google, etc.

What if none of those resources existed? What if no one took the time to create those how-to videos, write those books, share their favorite recipes, or post reviews? Literally and figuratively – nothing could be accomplished.  

To all of you out there who’ve taken the time to share by authoring a book, a blog, an article, podcast episode or tv or movie script, I say THANK YOU! My life is so much more enriched through your willingness to share your story.

And you have inspired me to share mine.

Although I have yet to publish my own individual book, over the years, I have been honored to share my knowledge and experiences in 18 collaborations with experts and influencers around the world. From professional texts on government communications to self-improvement and inspirational compilations, each was an opportunity to share a piece of information that may have helped someone solve a problem, achieve a level of success, or improve their quality of life in some way.

Plus, I had the remarkable opportunity to learn from all the coauthors and co-contributors in these volumes.

Celebrate National Authors Day with me.

Oh, by the way, there remains a few opportunities to join me in the latest collaboration book, “The Art of Connection:365 Days of Abundance Quotes.”

Check out my web page to learn how.

https://www.johnverrico.com/be-a-co-author-with-me

Share Your Fire! 

Pineapples!

I had to laugh when I first heard the expression, “Pineapple Post.”

Recently, I participated in a social media writing course by esteemed writing coach Deborah Ager. At one point, she instructed us to write a “Pineapple Post.” I believe she may have even coined the term, which she described as a post that welcomes people to your business or page without being ‘salesy.’

That makes sense because, in many places, the pineapple is the symbol of hospitality and welcome.

I admit, I never really understood why the pineapple became such a symbol. Although wonderfully sweet on the inside, its prickly exterior is anything but welcoming.

So practicing what I teach – i.e. “learn something new every day” – I looked it up. I learned that because early trade routes between America and Caribbean Islands were often slow and perilous, it was a significant achievement for a host to procure a ripe pineapple for guests. Also, sea captains would place a pineapple outside their homes as a symbol of their safe return from trade routes in the Caribbean or Pacific.

Okay. I get it now. But a couple years ago, I learned something about pineapple symbolism that changed its meaning for me forever.  

I am a motivational speaker and leadership coach who teaches people how to light the motivational TORCH of those around them, while keeping their own fire burning bright. I use a lot of humor in my programs, and help people learn to laugh in the face of adversity.

Because of this bright outlook on life, I am often asked to emcee events, and even officiate weddings and vow renewal ceremonies.

Friends of ours were celebrating a milestone anniversary and we were going to be taking a Caribbean cruise together which would be stopping in Antigua, where they had their honeymoon. I was honored when they asked if I would officiate a vow renewal for them on their favorite beach.

I wanted to make this special and to bring some levity to the event, so I bought a new outfit for the occasion – an iridescent orange suit covered in brilliant yellow pineapples and bright green palm leaves! Somehow, I managed to keep this hidden from them until we were standing in place on the beach. As you can imagine, It was blinding surprise in the bright Caribbean sun!

After the ceremony, I wore the suit back to the ship and to dinner that night and out dancing afterward. I had heard rumor of a “pineapple party” taking place somewhere onboard. I wondered about what it was and figured my pineapple-covered suit would surely get noticed and we’d get an invitation.

Well, the suit was noticed all right, and that’s when I learned about the alternative meaning of pineapples.

During the first several days of the cruise, I had seen several cabin doors around the ship with pineapple decorations on them. Many people decorate their cabin doors, so I thought nothing much of it at the time, especially since pineapples seemed like a perfectly logical island theme. 

Apparently, there is a subculture of folks who have adopted the pineapple as a way of identifying each other and offer a whole different level of welcome and sharing. When they saw my blaze-orange pineapple-covered suit, you might say it raised some eyebrows and we suddenly made a whole bunch of new friends.

Of course, we were oblivious. We were just dancing and having fun with our new friends until we realized that we could no longer discern the couples and whom was with whom. I remember our reaction when it suddenly dawned on us. “oh.” “Oh.” “OH!”

LOL. I relate this story as a reminder to always keep an open mind in life and find the humor in every situation.

By the way, I still wear the suit on occasion, when I want to lighten the mood somewhere, and always retell that story. 😉