(Editor’s Note before we start today: Wide World of Stuff will be dormant for a week next week, as me and my beloved bride take a vacation without the children for the first time in years (!). There’ll be a blog post on Monday, but then no post on 7/5, 7/7, or 7/10. Enjoy the 4th of July!)
Happy Friday, people of Earth! Hope all is well for you, the Southeast and Texas are getting absolutely scorched right now, the Supreme Court continues to march us backward with its decisions (affirmative action? Who needs that! There’s no racism in decision-making in America anymore, we all know minorities get plenty of fair and equal chances (yeah, right), but we are keeping it positive as always here on Good News Friday.
Three great stories for you today, starting with a man named Rodney Smith, of Huntsville, Ala. From Upworthy.com, comes the story of Smith, who made a generous donation to two 11-year-old boys who fulfilled his 50-yard challenge in Gadsden, Ala.
Ja’Torrian Taylor and Tevin Rice, founders of TJ & JT Mowing Service, completed Smith’s challenge to mow 50 yards for the elderly, veterans, and people unable to care for their lawns for free.
“I’m heading down to Gadsden right now. These are good, hard-working kids that deserve some gratitude,” Smith, known as “The Lawnmower Man,” told KMBC. Smith had been told that Taylor and Rice were sharing an old lawnmower that a neighbor had donated to them.
When he arrived, he gave both teens a mower, a blower and a trimmer for their hard work, hoping they’ll use their new equipment to expand their business. “Giving these boys lawn equipment is teaching them discipline,” Smith said. “If they tell someone they are going to mow a lawn, they need to mow the lawn.”
Love it. Good on Rodney and good on these hardworking kids.
As part of Smith’s plan to help those who can’t mow themselves, he created the 50 Yard Challenge, which has been a smashing success.
As of May 2023, 4,588 pre-teens and teens are participating in this challenge across the United States. If everyone completes the challenge, that will bring the total number of lawns mowed for free by Smith’s Raising Men & Women Lawn Care Service to 229,400.
***Next up, from Steve Hartman, a story of a remarkable boy’s determination, and a grownup who saw something in that kid.
This is really special.
**And finally today, you know how much I love hockey and hockey players if you read this space much; hockey players, in my experience, are the most humble of all pro athletes, seem to have the best grasp of how lucky they are to be playing a kid’s game and getting paid, and have always seemed to “get it.”
So anytime I get a chance to highlight a hockey player doing something awesome, I’m going to do it.
Wednesday night was the NHL Draft, when 18 and 19-year-old kids realize their dream of being chosen by an NHL team, the first step toward playing in the NHL one day.
Adam Fantilli was drafted No. 3 overall, by the Columbus Blue Jackets. And in an extremely-cool move, he wore a special vest to the Draft, held in Nashville.
On the vest was inscribed more than 130 names of people who Fantilli says have helped him along the way in his journey to this moment, and he wanted to thank them in this huge moment.
The project of making the list started one year ago, Fantilli said.
Across the bottom of the vest it read: “It takes a village.”
“It was my parents’ idea to get the list of names,” Fantilli said. “I couldn’t be happier with the way it turned out.”
What a wonderful, classy gesture. I’m rooting for this kid from Day 1 of his career.
Sometimes, I read something and I’m just in awe of great writing.
Ava Kofman is a writer for ProPublica. She got to do a deep dive, investigative piece on something of vital importance to all Americans: The issue of male penile enlargement.
I don’t need to read a story like that, you might be saying. But wait, just wait, and read this incredible, amazing lede to Kofman’s story.
“They wanted it because they’d just gone through a bad breakup and needed an edge in the volatile dating market; because porn had warped their sense of scale; because they’d been in a car accident, or were looking to fix a curve, or were hoping for a little “software upgrade”; because they were not having a midlife crisis; because they were, “and it was cheaper than a Bugatti Veyron”; because, after five kids, their wife couldn’t feel them anymore; because they’d been molested as a child and still remembered the laughter of the adults in the room; because they couldn’t forget a passing comment their spouse made in 1975; because, despite the objections of their couples therapist, they believed it would bring them closer to their “sex obsessed” husband (who then had an affair that precipitated their divorce); because they’d stopped changing in locker rooms, stopped peeing in urinals, stopped having sex; because who wouldn’t want it?
But that lede had my jaw on the floor. So freaking good. The reporting, the details, Kofman takes the subject seriously and examines it extremely well.
**Next up, I love a good game show story, and this one is a doozy. A recent contestant on “The Price is Right” named Henry was so excited after winning his game on stage that he whooped and hollered and flung his arm in the air so hard that he dislocated his shoulder.
This made poor Henry unable to spin the wheel in the big wheel round, and his wife Alice had to come out and spin for him. And it all turned out OK: Henry ended up winning the showcase showdown and a trip to Hawaii! Presumably his shoulder was healed up by then.
I love game show enthusiasm, but please, be careful out there, people.!
**And finally, I’ve heard of some strange internship situations before, but this one might take the cake. A young woman from South Carolina landed a sweet summer gig at a company in New Jersey. But then she went and looked at the prices of apartment rentals in New York and N.J., and she and her family were gobsmacked at how expensive they were.
So, given that her job is mostly remote and only requires her to be in person one day a week, Sophia Celentano came up with a money-saving idea: Every Wednesday, Celentano flies from Charleston, South Carolina to Newark, New Jersey then takes an Uber to her job in Parsippany, which is about 30 minutes away.
Then she works a full day, then flies back home that night.
Seriously.
“It’s $100 to fly round trip each week, which Celentano said saves her a lot of money.
“I looked at places that were in the suburbs of New Jersey,” Celetano said. “I looked at places that were in New York City and got absolutely terrified with the rent prices.”
The rising senior at the University of Virginia said she realized that even if she settled for the cheapest possible apartment sublease, her quality of life would suffer.
I mean, it’s pretty crazy, yeah, but so are the rent prices around these parts.
Happy Monday! Maybe you were busy over the weekend, at a summer cookout or sending your kid off to sleepaway camp for the first time like we did (sniff, sniff, he got on the bus happily and no one cried, not even his parents!), but there was kind of an almost-coup in Russia that feels pretty important.
So, I don’t think I have the knowledge of deep understanding of foreign affairs to fully explain this, but I’ll try in broad strokes, and The Washington Post has this excellent explainer to help as well.
So as we all know, the war in Ukraine isn’t going so well for Mother Russia: A war that most people thought would last days or maybe weeks, with Ukraine’s government falling easily, has gone on for more than a year now. Lots of deaths have occurred on both sides, the U.S. has helped Ukraine majorly with weapons and cash, and there’s no end in sight.
And apparently some Russian generals and soldiers are pretty unhappy they’re fighting this unnecessary war and risking their lives. One such Russian general, Yevgeniy Prigozhin, led a group of mercenary fighters called the Wagner Group, began marching toward Moscow to, I’m supposing, try to fight and overthrow Vladimir Putin.
Things were definitely headed that way until an intervention of sorts appears to have happened, with Belarus President Alexander Lukashenko brokering some peace.
Suddenly the Wagner folks stopped marching and are no longer intent on government overthrow.
I’m not sure exactly what this means, but this has to be a dangerous sign for Putin that his grip on his country, and military leaders, is slipping. The longer a war like this goes on, the more things like the Wagner group rebelling will happen. Putin has vastly overreached here, and of course thinks he’s indestructible because he’s been in power so long.
Things are calm at the moment, but I can’t believe this will be the last act of rebellion if this war keeps dragging on.
**Next up today, I know there’s a whole genre of people who watch “food porn” videos, of watching others make delicious meals and super dishes, but I’ve never been one of them. I’m not a foodie, I don’t really love seeing how my yummy meal gets made, I’m just happy it comes out hot and I enjoy it very much.
But this video here, this has me quite fascinated and flummoxed. This seems like a woman went thru a whole lot of trouble to make something complicated that could just be very simple.
I am amazed at how much work she put into this. I also have many questions, also pointed out by Twitter users: She used the same gloves, it appears, that she used to touch the raw meat, to do all the other cooking.
Also, why are you re-freezing thawed and de-frosted meat? That’s bad!
**And finally, sometimes a photograph and a setting just takes your breath away. I don’t know if this picture from Brett Phibbs of Tourist New Zealand is the picture of the year, but damn I’d like to see a photo that beats it.
This is from an exhibition match between local girls in the valley below Aoraki/Mount Cook, New Zealand’s highest mountain, created for this year’s FIFA Women’s World Cup, coming up in a few weeks.
I mean, this is incredible! Can you imagine playing a soccer game in that beauty?
Happy Friday, and happy summer! That’s right, beach and sunscreen season is here, it’s the last day of school for those of us on Long Island, and as always around this time, I’ve got a new Daddy Chronicles for you! As always, these posts are written to inform and amuse, to chronicle the days of my two boys’ lives as they’re being lived, and not, as they will no doubt one day believe, written as future material for their friends in high school to mock them with (that’s just a side benefit).
On the last day of 3rd grade for the big guy and the last day of kindergarten for the little guy, I give you a whole bunch of snapshots on what’s going on in their lives:
— Let’s start with Mr. Nate. For the last several weeks this Sunday has loomed as a major milestone in his life: That’s the day we drop him off at the sleepaway camp bus stop, where for the next four weeks he’ll be away from home for the first time, by himself. He’s going to have the best time ever, I’m sure, because we have met many of the boys he’ll be bunking and living with, the directors and counselors at his Poconos camp seem wonderful and full of heart and kindness, and the activities he’ll be doing are right up his alley.
The last few weeks have been a flurry of packing, sending his ginormous 60-pound duffel bag/trunk up to camp a few days ago, and trying to reassure ourselves that our sweet first-born child will be fine without us for a few weeks.
I truly do think this will be a great experience for Nate, helping him grow up a little and gain some independence (many people have told us that kids come back from sleepaway more mature), and it will certainly be good for both Nate and Theo to spend some time apart.
I also think it’ll be hard for Theo at first, not having his playmate and best pal around, but I also think it will help Theo maybe mature a little. (God please let him mature a little, he still drives us crazy).
Four weeks for me and my wife with just one kid around. Going to be very, very weird. But definitely more peaceful.
— Nate’s new superhero name, coined by me and Theo: “Owwie Man,” the amazing creature who can get hurt doing absolutely anything. Shockingly, Nate doesn’t love the name. But he continues to injure himself doing everyday activities in ways I honestly don’t see how (anyone else’s kid consistently bang into the bathroom door or sink?). I don’t know if he’s just clumsy or doesn’t pay attention, but wow do I have a feeling the nurse at sleepaway camp is going to know his name soon.
— Third grade was once again a wonderful experience for my blonde human; he was blessed yet again with a great teacher in Ms. Schieck, and Nate made great strides in reading and writing (he still complains about having to write, clearly my genes aren’t fully activated in there yet). I am so lucky he loves school so much.
— New TV obsessions for Nate: This “Hot Wheels Challenge” show, and “Wheel of Fortune.” Seriously, both my boys love watching “the show with the wheel” and try solving the puzzle before the contestants. Vanna White has a spell on men of all ages, I suppose.
— OK, onto the littler, louder one. As I wrote about in the last Chronicles, Theo was beyond excited about being a Ringmaster in the kindergarten circus, and it finally happened on June 9. And I have to say, it was pretty freaking adorable. Theo and his two co-Ringmaster buddies, Ryan and Nicholas, were decked out in their tuxedos and top hats, and they narrated all the different acts that came on stage, including acrobats, doggies, ponies and “strong kids.” Theo nailed all his lines and did a great lion’s roar as well.
It was one of the cutest things ever, and he was so proud to be a part of it. Now we just need someone we know to get married and have him be a ring bearer so we can use the tux again.
— Theo’s other big recent event was getting a promotion in taekwondo. Still kind of wild to see my dude break boards and do roundhouse kicks and punches, and bow to the sensei (is it a sensei in taekwondo? Or is it Master? Are we still allowed to call them Masters? I should probably know this by now, he’s been doing taekwondo for nine months).
Watching him do the required moves, and then get presented with his new yellow belt, was pretty special.
–The end of kindergarten saw Theo have an outstanding year with Ms. Koutros, who we are so lucky taught both of our boys at age 5, and he made major progress in reading, writing and math (I think he might love math as much as Nate does, boy am I really in for some Mathletes competitions in my future). His behavior in the classroom continues to be excellent, the teacher says, but at home, wow does he know how to push his brother’s buttons.
— Practically every night during post-dinner “runaround time,” the same pattern happens: The boys play upstairs, Theo plays by the rules they’ve agreed on, then Theo does something to anger Nate, Nate yells at Theo to “get out of my room,” they argue some more, and inevitably, someone ends up crying. Theo is a master at getting Nate upset, it’s truly quite something.
— And finally, Theo lost his second tooth a few weeks ago, and just like the first one, he either swallowed or lost it.
The Tooth Fairy must think we’re pulling a scam here.
This is one of those stories that infuriated me when I read about it, and has made me mad each time I’ve thought about it or seen it since. From the Philadelphia Inquirer:
“A high school senior named Hafsah Abdur-Rahman recently graduated from the Philadelphia High School for Girls. This school is 175 years old and has many strict rules, and one of them at graduation is this: grads are told to tell their parents and families there is to be no cheering, shouting or clapping when you walk across the stage to accept your diploma (My note:This is a ridiculous rule in my opinion, but whatever.)
“Abdul-Rahman, 18, was keenly aware of the restriction. As she waited for her name to be called, she even looked at her proud family and put her finger to her lips as a reminder.
“When Abdul-Rahman walked across the stage, she did so silently, but with style — doing the Griddy, with a big smile.
“When she reached Girls’ High principal Lisa Mesi, Abdul-Rahman reached for her diploma, only to be rebuffed. “She said, ‘You’re not getting your diploma because you made the crowd chuckle,’” Abdul-Rahman said.
Stunned, she kept walking, but “I was humiliated,” said Abdul-Rahman. “You only get one moment like that, and it was taken away from me.” She eventually received her diploma after a family member confronted another Girls’ High official, who initially refused to hand it over.”
Absolutely infuriating. This is a kid who, like millions of Americans kids, survived going to school during a global pandemic. This kid lost her sister four years ago, she’s having a moment of excitement when finally she’s reached her goal of graduating, she takes three seconds to dance a little, and the principal humiliates her. And the school STILL wouldn’t give her her diploma afterwards!
She and her mother, Jaszmine Reid, feel that Abdul-Rahman was targeted — other girls waved, or blew kisses, or made other silent gestures as they walked across the stage. In fact, Abdul-Rahman said, an assistant principal told the girls to walk across the stage in style just before graduation began.
And though someone did laugh as Abdul-Rahman sashayed across the stage, her family was quiet; they are furious not just at the policy, but also that she’s being penalized for someone else’s reaction.”
So, so ridiculous. The Philadelphia school district put out a statement, sort of condemning what the school did, but still.
What an awful message and an awful display by this principal and this school.
SOMETHING COOL: A Father's Day disaster avoided thanks to the Boston Red Sox and their broadcasting team after a little kid throws a precious foul ball souvenir back on the field!⤵️ pic.twitter.com/SiRgu0HAVi
— Kayler Smith – KMID (@KaylerSmithTV) June 19, 2023
**Next up, this video will have anyone with a little brother, or anyone who’s been a little brother, smile with recognition. Young Boston Red Sox fan Charlie Mulligan was gifted a foul ball by another fan in the row in front of him on Saturday.
Getting wrapped up in the moment, the tyke “showed off some impressive arm strength and chucked the ball back onto the field despite the efforts of his dad, Pat, and fellow fan, Mike, to snag the ball in time. “
Realizing what he had done, and seeing the frustration on the face of his brother Jack, Charlie crumpled into his dad’s arms in tears. While his brother got so upset that Charlie wasted a foul ball they had just been given!
I feel ya, Jack. I feel ya. But happily, the Red Sox saw what happened and made things right, check out the video above. It kills me to say something nice about the Sox, but way to go, giving that family some signed baseballs and a jersey.
**Finally today, this is one of my favorite things my local newspaper here on Long Island, Newsday, does each year. Every Mother’s Day and Father’s Day in the sports section, they ask a handful of high school athletes to pen letters to their parents in the newspaper, thanking them for helping mold the kids into who they’ve become.
The letters are always sweet, and emotional, and beautiful, and this past Sunday’s were no different. Here’s a couple of quick excerpts; they can all be found here:
From Peyton Choma, to father Michael Choma:
Dear Dad,
There are no words to describe how much you mean to me. From when I was little to now you have always been the person I look up to the most. Even though we have our disagreements we are always on the same page, we just get each other. Whenever I have to make a decision, the first thing I think is “ What would dad do?” I trust your opinion more than anyone and I always know that no matter what the circumstance is you will always do the right thing.
You’ve always told me that the most important thing in a person is character, “what you do when nobody’s watching.” This important trait…character, has made me into the person I am today, a mini you 🙂 .
Being 16 is the hardest thing in the world. Worrying about boys, friends and what outfit I’m gonna wear the next day is so stressful. Thank god I have you by my side to vent to and get a reality check in return. You have the knack of knowing when to coddle me and when to push me when I need it. My sports injuries are the best example. You knew when I needed a shoulder to cry on, but you also knew when I needed to stop crying and move forward.
To LaDuke Harris, Sr., from LaDuke Harris, Jr.”
Dear Dad,
You are the man who made me who I am today.
You’ve come with me every step of the way. I can never tell you how much you really mean to me, but, deep down, I know you know. You not only gave me your name but also your ambition and courageousness. I thank you for that.
Our drives to the city for track meets and the lessons you teach me on the road? I can’t replace those times for anything. I hope to take some of the lessons you have taught me and pass those lessons on to my son or daughter in the far future and tell them stories about their grandfather.
It was five minutes before a moment I’d been working toward for a year and a half.
And I was having what I believe to be my first-ever panic attack. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think straight, wasn’t sure what the hell was happening.
Saturday afternoon around 2:30 p.m., I was sitting in the Adelphi University Performing Arts Center, a gorgeous music venue with high ceilings, a beautiful stage and wonderful acoustics. I was getting ready to play my first-ever piano recital, after 18 months of the scary but fun challenge of trying to learn an instrument I’d always wanted to try.
I thought I was ready for this. I had been learning, slowly but surely, under my first teacher, Ebin, and then my current teacher, the great Joseph. I was progressing, overcoming my initial complete inability to read and remember which notes were which (I messed up the D and the B constantly for months), and learned songs like “Oh When The Saints (come Marching in)” and “Jack and the Beanstalk.”
But I still was unsure and feeling like learning piano was even harder than I thought it would be.
A few months ago, as we were signing up my 8-year-old son, Nate for his next piano recital (he’d had one in December and crushed it), the wonderful co-owners of Long Island Studio of Music, who we pay for lessons, asked me if I’d consider doing a recital also.
Me? I’m 47 years old, and people who do recitals are the ones who can’t quite clear the height restrictions for the rides at the amusement park. Adult males don’t do recitals! I immediately thought I’d look ridiculous and it wasn’t necessary.
But the Two Jennifers kept asking (they’re both named Jennifer, it’s quite confusing) and I finally said, OK, fine, I’ll do it. I’ve always believed in challenging myself when possible, pushing the limits (hell, I jumped out of an airplane once)
And so, I rehearsed and rehearsed with Joe, who has the patience of a saint and impressed me by getting all my pop-culture references despite being quite younger than me. As the weeks leading up to June 17 approached, I felt more confident I could pull this off. The Jennifers assured me I would NOT be the only person with a drivers license performing that day, and that made me feel better. (What they did not tell me until Saturday was that this was the first show of theirs to ever have grownups performing on stage).
By show day, I thought I was ready. I had my two songs down cold, I was relaxed, and ready to make my debut.
Then we got inside the building, and the show started. And panic slowly started to creep in. My family and good friends all know that in addition to being born with only one kidney, I was born without the “embarrassment” gene. I’m willing to do anything and I don’t care how silly it might make me look; I just don’t get embarrassed, ever.
So I had no idea why my chest was tightening and I suddenly was having trouble breathing. I was scheduled to be the 11th performer of 25, and after the fifth person went, I decided to go to the bathroom and clear my head. Certainly I could calm myself down, splash some water on my face, take some deep breaths, and I’d be all good.
I went back inside, and it only got worse. As my time to get on stage grew closer, I started having trouble breathing again. My heart was racing. The girl before me was taking the stage, and I absolutely, positively knew I couldn’t do this.
I burst out of the auditorium again to go to the bathroom, despite knowing they’d be calling my name in 4 minutes. I threw some more water on my face, told myself this was ridiculous, just calm down, it’s not a big deal. I even tried the Rebecca from “Ted Lasso” thing of making myself big in the mirror to psyche myself up. Didn’t work.
I thought “OK, they’ll call my name to go up to perform, I won’t be there, and they’ll move on to the next person. No big deal.” The other half of my brain said “This is ridiculous! Why am I freaking out so much? There’s only like 150 people out there! You’ve talked in front of hundreds of people before. You’ve sang bad karoake in front of 100 people in a bar before. Why is this so scary?”
Finally, I talked myself into leaving the bathroom. I ran into the amphitheater again and snuck down near my seat, as the girl before me finished singing her song. One of the Jennifers called my name, I grabbed my songbook, and sat down at the piano as people cheered.
And at the start, it didn’t go well. It wasn’t the bright lights that bothered me, it was just a stupid mistake. My first piece was “Pop Goes the Weasel,” a very easy song, that I knew perfectly. And I flubbed one of the early notes, hitting the wrong key. I recovered and the rest was fine, but I was annoyed. I knew I could do better.
And then I did. I relaxed, and played my second song, “The Clock Shop,” perfectly (see video above for proof!). When I finished, I leaned back in my chair and let out a deep sigh or relief, before theatrically bowing (always wanted to do that) to my adoring audience.
I strode off the stage, received huzzahs and accolades from my loving family, and finally could truly relax.
I am mystified why I panicked so much. Stage fright is real, y’all.
But now I can’t wait to get back up there and play more songs in front of people again. Fear, conquered.
Never, ever be afraid to challenge yourself. You never know what you can accomplish.
**Next up, the Men’s College World Series is going on right now, an event I rarely pay attention to. But this caught my eye Sunday night, because of some incredibly-cool camera work: A batter for Oral Roberts University named Matt Hogan hit an inside-the-park home run against Florida Sunday, the first in the CWS since 2001.
But what’s so cool about it is the camerawork as we follow Matt around the bases. Just awesome.
**And finally, I love a good obituary that has me laughing and wishing I knew the deceased. That’s the case with the death notice of James Loveless, a “good ole’ boy” from Kentucky. Here’s what his family submitted, and honestly, I’ll excerpt a little of it here but the whole thing is golden:
“As a gluttonous eater of fried foods and snack cakes, as well as the occasional chili cheese dog, James, tried in vain to give up the ghost by clogging his arteries and having a stroke in 2015. His twin boys, Rocky and Rodney, had other plans and made him go to the hospital. While waiting in the ER at the hospital, he was heard saying, “Let’s make a break for it!”, only to be heard by one of the hospital staff and forced to go through the procedure. He wasn’t too excited about the prospect, but went anyway.
On many occasions in life, James was seen in his back yard at the trailer park during the early hours of the morning, hammering beers, standing over country-style ribs, and yelling, “It’s got a head like a cat on it!”, while nearby neighbors would peek out their windows bearing looks of disgust and amazement, as his party guests were slurring remarks about needing to speed up his cooking style. “We’ve been here since 5 o’clock,” they would say. “I’ve got work in the morning.”
We don’t know if he was married, but he definitely was a lady’s man. There was Kathy, Mary Lou, Tammy, Debra, Carrie, Tina, etc., etc. “It’s the bones”, he told us as proudly pointed his skinny, pasty-white legs. “Women love a good shin”.
He leaves behind his second-favorite son, Rocky (and Lizeth) Loveless of Arizona City, AZ, his favorite son, Rodney Loveless of Science Hill, KY, a younger brother, Joey, and unofficial daughter Melissa(and Coy) Vance of the trailer park, as well as a pair of old boxers which have ‘Buttweiser the King of Rears’ printed on the design. “
Happy Friday, world! We’re officially about to start summer, my kids have a week left of school, sleepaway camp and day camp are getting ready to start, and I’m thrilled “The Wonder Years” is back for Season 2 on ABC (just watched the first episode, it was fabulous! Such a good show.)
Happy Father’s Day to all my fellow baby co-creators out there, who do so much for their kids!
Lotta good news to get to this week, and I want to start with a nomination for the coolest job search idea, and the coolest boss, I’ve seen in a while.
“Chris Serrano, a creative director who “does all his own stunts,” found himself in one of these abysmal situations after getting laid off.
However, Serrano quickly turned his luck around by thinking outside the box and leaning into his daredevil personality. On his LinkedIn, he posted a video of himself jumping out of a plane with a cardboard sign that read, “Open4Work.”
“I got laid off last week. So I’ll be freefalling until I find a new gig—literally. If you’re looking for an award-winning creative that works hard, takes risks, and knows how to pack a parachute, reach out. Don’t let your brand plunge to its death. Hire me instead,” he added in the caption.
“It wasn’t long before Serrano’s post caught the attention of Jack Peagam, UK- based entrepreneur and co-founder/CEO of the social app Linkup, which aims to authentically connect people based on similar hobbies and interests.
Peagam seemingly one-upped Serrano’s stunt—videoing himself skydiving with a cardboard sign that read. “Hey Chris, sorry 2 see you got laid off. We’ve got work 4 U. Let’s Link Up”.
Because clearly these two are a match made in workplace heaven, Serrano then shared a subsequent video showing both thrill-seekers signing a new employment contract while jumping out of a plane together. (See the super-cool video here.)
Very, very cool that Chris took a risk by doing this, and that Jack saw someone who was going to be a good fit for his company. Bravo to both!
**Next up, another one of these “America’s Got Talent” videos that comes across my radar and brings me immense joy.
Check out this 12-year-old British kid named Alfie, absolutely slaying a Lady Gaga song and winning over Simon and the judges.
This kid has got IT.
**And finally today, I have reiterated many many times in this space over the years my love, respect and admiration for teachers (I’m the son of two teachers, and was a substitute teacher myself for a few years), and so I’m thrilled that New York City, the nation’s largest school system, has finally agreed to a new contract with its teachers union, and educators are getting a much-deserved raise.
According to reports like this one in Chalkbeat,”the tentative deal for the United Federation of Teachers’ 115,000 full-time and 5,000 part-time education department employees includes 3% wage increases for the first three years, followed by a 3.25% increase in the fourth year, and 3.5% in the fifth year. The full contract would cost the city $6.4 billion, city officials said.
Starting salary for new teachers will jump from $61,070 to $72,349 by the end of the contract. In five years, the most experienced teachers will earn $151,271. The deal also proposes to cut in half the amount of time it takes teachers to reach a $100,000 salary — from 15 to eight years. ”
“The contract would expand a pilot remote learning project that allowed small schools to offer virtual courses — such as AP Chemistry — that they otherwise couldn’t because of staffing issues. This year, the program used federal funding to grow, reaching about 1,500 students across 58 schools, with 23 separate online courses outside traditional school hours.”
Teaching is one of the most difficult jobs in the world, and I’m glad that New York City teachers are finally being appreciated and compensated. Now, it the rest of American governments would follow suit, instead of demonizing and insulting teachers so much…
Have a great weekend, and Happy Father’s Day to all my fellow Dads out there!
The man stood on stage last week and sang a song he’d written more than four decades ago, and thousands of people heard the opening chords, smiled, and began to sing along.
We sang the words we knew by heart and the melody we’d heard hundreds of times, and it was like putting on a warm old coat that had always been there in the closet, but that hadn’t been worn for years.
And as an entire audience was in rapt attention to the dude with the guitar, I began to appreciate, yet again, why aging rock stars like John Mellencamp, the guy on stage at the Beacon Theatre that night, are still touring despite being in their 70s.
As Mellencamp, with a raspy voice hardened by 60 years of smoking (he told us he started puffing away at age 10) talked to us about Jack, Diane and their hopes and dreams, I got to thinking about these huge stars from my 1980s youth and what it must be like for them to still be up there playing.
Mellencamp is 71. Last year we saw Jackson Browne, who is now 74. And Bruce Springsteen is 73 and still selling out shows all across America.
Part of me wonders why these musicians still do it: They certainly have enough money to live on, they’re not young anymore, and the difficulties of traveling across the country at their age and performing night after night must get a little old.
And for most of them, the cheers aren’t as loud as they used to be, the record sales aren’t what they were (I was stunned when I heard Mellencamp had a new album and that I actually liked a few of the songs he played from it, since I hadn’t heard new music from him in a very long time), and the crowds are generally smaller as they get older. And they don’t sound quite as good as they used to, after decades on the road.
These incredibly-talented people have a gift, a rare gift, and I wonder if they still tour because they need to keep reminding the world of that gift.
I also started to think, as Mellencamp bantered with the crowd in his salty language and tried to stay current by making jokes about iPhones and current events, that these guys must know this could be their last tour.
The screams, the appreciative love, the dancing of thousands of strangers to music you made, is all going to be over soon enough. Every tour could be their last, and I imagine that’s a very hard thing to let go of.
It’s a drug, getting that kind of love and gratitude from an audience, and I wonder if these entertainers who have been famous and received adulation for so long just don’t want to let it go, and if every night they can still do what they love brings them some joy.
I’m rambling here. But what I’m trying to say is, it must be awfully difficult for Browne, Mellencamp and their ilk to realize it’s all going to be over very soon, and they won’t have an audience like us at the Beacon to validate them.
I would hope they appreciate all the good times they’ve given us, and that when the last guitar note or lyric escapes from their body, they’re content with what they have done.
Jack and Diane would be old and gray by now since we first heard about them in 1982. But in our brains and hearts, the guy who sang about them will always be young.
***Next up, it takes a lot to get me to write about a minor golf tournament, but what happened Sunday at the Canadian Open, or more accurately, after the Canadian Open, was pretty hilarious. A Canadian named Nick Taylor won the tournament, and it was incredibly emotional for him and Canadian golf fans, since it had been since 1954 that a native son had won it.
So after Taylor won, his friend and fellow Canadian golfer Adam Hadwin raced onto the 18th green, spraying champagne, to celebrate with his buddy.
And, well, a security guard for the tournament clearly had no idea who Hadwin was and thought he was just some dude interrupting the party, and he absolutely trucked Hadwin.
**And finally, we all know Taylor Swift is the biggest music star in the world right now. Her Eras tour is dominating all headlines and attracting enormous crowds all over America, and her fans are really, really dedicated.
How dedicated, you ask? Way too dedicated, based on this story.
Apparently lots of Swifties are so concerned about missing even a minute or two of her concerts that they wear adult diapers to the shows. Seriously. They’re posting TikToks of themselves wearing the Depends, so that way they can just enjoy “Antihero” or “Shake it Off” without having to pee.
This, my friends, is absolute lunacy. To voluntarily sit in your own body waste for hours because you don’t want to miss one song?
We tennis writers are having a real problem when it comes to Novak Djokovic.
Running out of words to describe his greatness on the court? Yeah we passed that problem five of six major titles ago.
Running out of words to describe his disagreeable-ness about science and vaccinations? Been there, done that. Not much more to say.
No, our problem is that sportswriters, we love to make comparisons. We have to say that this person is as good as this person, or the best since that person, or is almost ready to be talked about in the same breath as this other person.
But with Djokovic, he’s blowing away any kind of comparisons we can make. Sunday in Paris, he turned back No. 4 seed Caspar Ruud of Norway in straight sets, as expected, to win his 23rd Grand Slam singles crown, a record.
This is after two days earlier besting the next Big Thing in tennis, 20-year-old Carlos Alcaraz, who battled Djokovic even for two sets before wilting with cramps.
Djokovic has set so many records now, beyond just the 23 Slams that will likely keep him as the leader in that category for many, many years. He’s won each major at least three times, something no male player has done.
He’s got a chance, just like he had in 2021, of winning a calendar Grand Slam, and since he’s won Wimbledon the last four years, I’d say he’s more than likely going to head to New York with a chance to win all four.
One of my favorite Novak stats is this one: he’s played 70 Grand Slam tournaments, and he’s now reached the final in 34 of them. That means in nearly HALF of all Slams he’s played, he’s competed for the championship. Mind-boggling.
I’ve written in this space before how I don’t root for Djokovic as much as I used to, how his absolute refusal to get vaccinated for Covid-19 and his holding multiple super spreader tennis events during Covid has irrevocably changed how I feel about him as a player.
But facts are facts: The 36-year-old is the greatest player of all time, and he shows no signs of slowing down. Alcaraz is the future, and maybe so is Ruud, and Medvedev, and Jannik Sinner is coming, too.
But I can see 27 or 28 Slams as Djokovic’s final total, maybe more.
What an incredible career he has had. Impossible for me not to be in awe.
**OK, now it’s time for “reason No. 4,323 I’m glad I don’t live in Florida anymore!”
Check out what a homeowner in Largo, Fla. found in their swimming pool the other day: A 10-foot crocodile!”
From this story: “Around 2 a.m., wildlife officials received a call from the homeowner in Plantation Key that a “massive” 10-foot American crocodile was in their home’s pool.
Pesky Critters Wildlife Control wrote on social media that their trappers were dispatched to “fulfill their role as FWC Crocodile Agents.” (Editor’s note: I’d say a 10-foot crocodile is a helluva lot more than “Pesky.”)
When trappers arrived on the scene, they quickly began to navigate capturing the massive animal, but its splashes were so large that it created a “slick and dangerous footing situation” on the pool deck.
However, expert wildlife trapper Todd Hardwick quickly secured the 10-foot croc despite the slick working conditions.”
Man, it is SO much fun to be a news reporter in that state. You never know what the heck is gonna happen.
**Finally today, I love when inventions are made that could directly help my life, and that of other men. Sometimes, through no fault of our own, the zippers on our pants are down, either halfway or all the way. It seems to happen mostly to me when I’m wearing blue jeans, and I swear it’s not like I’m trying to get attention to my nether regions (I’m a happily married 47-year-old man with two kids, you think I want people looking at my stuffs?).
It’s occasionally embarrassing when people point it out, but you know, things happen, you quickly zip all the way back up, and go on with life.
But thankfully, a man named Guy DuPont has come up with a solution! From this article:
“The pants contain a Hall effect sensor which has been attached inside the fly of the jeans, at the bottom of the zipper. The zipper pull itself was then fitted with a strong magnet, which triggers the sensor when the zipper is in the open position. An ESP32 in the pocket of the jeans is tasked with monitoring the sensor. If it detects that the zipper has been down for too long, it sends a notification to the wearer’s smartphone to zip up.”
Genius. Now of course, this means you have to have your phone nearby to get the alert, and also requires you to wear pants that have this sensor in it. And you know, not sure how well the sensor would do in the washing machine.
But hey, details! DuPont is looking for investors to help build and market these babies.
Happy Friday, humans! It’s a great day to be alive. My youngest is the ringmaster in his school’s kindergarten circus today and I’m excited to watch. Donald Trump was apparently indicted for the second time this year (do I hear 3? Come on down, Georgia!), summer is almost here, Pat Robertson is dead (I really hope a gay men’s choir sings at his funeral!) the air quality in the Northeast is finally improving, and a fantastic tennis match could be happening while you read this (more on that below.)
But maybe most importantly, we lead off Good News Friday with a shocking Supreme Court decision. Maybe since Trump and Mitch McConnell railroaded Merrick Garland and shoved three far-right justices into lifetime appointments on the Court, I’ve had extremely low expectations. Especially since the awful, awful Dobbs decision that overturned Roe v. Wade.
So, given that, and how awful this Court has been, it was stunning to see what happened Thursday. In a 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court ruled that Alabama’s Republican-drawn congressional map violates the Voting Rights Act by diluting the power of Black voters. This is a significant victory for democracy, and could lead to the re-drawing of maps in the state, giving Democrats a few more House seats which are desperately needed, and could have a ripple effect on legislation in other states.
We desperately need the Voting Rights Act restored, which sadly has not at all been the kind of priority it should be in the Biden administration. But even if it’s in isolation, this is a major blow for fairness and against racial discrimination.
I’m not delusional enough to think this will solve all the radically-gerrymandered maps Republican legislatures have drawn.
But it’s a start.
**Next up, I love completely nonsensical world records being broken, so this story is good news in my book.
Steve Corning of South Portland did this feat for two minutes and five second, beating the record held by his friend Jason.
“I’m now the proud owner of the dumbest world record,” Corning said. “Well, briefly until Jason beats it again.”
**Finally today, one of the beauties and curses of my beloved sport of tennis is we don’t always get the matchups we want to see.
In baseball, basketball, football, etc., things are scheduled. You know that your team is going to play every other team, so you’ll see great matchups. In tennis, so many things can derail head-to-head contests that will enthrall: Injuries. A bad draw in a tournament. One player deciding not to get vaccinated (your mileage may vary).
Carlos Alcaraz and Novak Djokovic have been the best players in tennis for the past 12 months. They haven’t met in a Grand Slam tournament.
Until today. At 8:45 a.m., Alcaraz, the electrifying new star at tennis, already the world No.1 at 20 years old, will play Djokovic, the 36-year-old greatest player of all time, winner of 22 majors. It is a matchup we tennis diehards have been salivating over and hoping for for a while now.
I have no idea who will win. My heart says Alcaraz, who is so incredible at this sport at such a young age (he’s the best all-around teenager ever, I feel) and it seems like its his time.
But the head says Djokovic will find a way, because he nearly almost always does. He might outsmart or outlast the young Spaniard.
I expect it will go four or five sets, and four or five hours. Buckle up, it’s going to be awesome. Either a sign of the changing of the guard, or the last thriving member of the Big 3 saying “Not yet, junior.”
Wide World of Stuff 