Appropros of nothing, here are some perfectly cromulent highlights from “Hurricane Neddy,” episode 8 of season 8 of The Simpsons.
Category: Whatnot
My Dinner With Jimmy
Jimmy Carter turns 100 years old today. I once had dinner with him. It’s a cool story. Here goes:
I was a senior at Emory, and the university invited about 50 student leaders to have dinner with the President before he spoke at a campus-wide event. Somehow, I made the invite list.1
The dinner was held at Harris Hall, a women’s dorm with a big meeting room facing busy Clifton Road. I arrived, signed in, clipped a name tag to my lapel, and participated in the usual small talk. President Carter arrived a while later. The chatter stopped and everyone turned to look at him. I think it was probably because a world leader and leading humanitarian had just entered the room but, in hindsight, we may have just been stunnded to see that he had forgotten to pick up his name tag.
After President Carter arrived, we trickled from the reception area to a massive rectangular dining table. It took me a while to find my place card, and that’s because I wasn’t looking in the right place. I didn’t expect to be seated at the head of the table, with just one chair between me and the President.
Whoa.
I don’t remember much about the person who sat between us, except that she wasn’t a student — I think she was associated with the Carter Center. What I do remember is that she didn’t speak much. That meant that I got to talk to the President quite a bit, as long as he was facing to his left.
The first thing I ever said to the President?
“Can you pass the salt?”
I’m not making that up. It is a real thing that happened.
With seasoning out of the way, I asked the President about his most recent book (“Turning Point,” about his first political campaign). I can’t remember his response, but I followed up by asking how he took the time to write.
His response (which I don’t remember well enough to quote) was that he made time to write because it was important enough. Over the years, I’ve distilled what he said down to this: Be passionate about writing and disciplined about scheduling.
We talked about other topics, but the conversation would always circle back to writing. At one point, I asked him how he approached poetry versus prose (“Always a Reckoning, and Other Poems” would be published the following year).
His exact words elude me again, but my takeaway was that Carter thought of himself as a writer. Not a former President who writes. It didn’t matter if what he wrote, or if it was for himself or posterity — all writing has value.
Again, whoa.
Carter seemed to enjoy the conversation. I suspect he gets asked about the same things repeatedly, and it felt like he appreciated talking about something important yet unrelated to politics.
All of this happened long ago, and there’s a good chance I’m misremembering or misrepresenting what happened.2 Stories, like storytellers, tend to evolve with age. I don’t know what, if anything, President Carter remembers from our discussion — not because of his age, but because he’s had 100 years of extraordinary encounters and experiences, so why would this one stick out?
But, who knows?
Happy birthday, President.
Footnotes
Oh. My. Pod.
A few days ago, just before sunrise, I saw more dolphins along Bayshore Boulevard than I’ve ever seen there. Here’s a short clip:
Break out the champagne! This is the 500th post on the Daily Dave, the world’s foremost Dave-related blog.1 Since my first short post on Jan. 10, 2021, I’ve written and rambled about topics I find interesting and important. I hope you’ve enjoyed what you’ve seen so far.
Here are five of my favorite posts from the past 1,258 days.2
How We Tied the Knot
When the Complimentary Spouse and I met, marriage was inconceivable. We’re celebrating our 16th anniversary this year. Here’s how we got from there to here.
More posts about Britt and me:
- Mind your I’s and E’s: Why I call Britt the Complimentary Spouse. (It’s not a typo.)
- Presentando a mi Media Naranja: Why I don’t call Britt mi esposo in Spanish.
A Wildly Inaccurate Guide to Chicago Architecture
When you can’t remember the details, just make up a bunch of funny shit.
More posts about travel:
- Oops, I Madrid It Again: A guide to one of the world’s greatest cities, written by your favorite honorary Madrileňo.
- Around the World in 80 Department Stores (Well, Actually Just 12): Harrod’s sucks. There, I said it.
- Into the Vortex: A skeptic visits Sedona.
- I Love to Get High: Some observations about observation decks.
There Is Nothing Either Good or Bad, but Thinking Makes it So
After David Burns (author of “Feeling Good”) passed away, I reflected on what Cognitive Behavioral Therapy means to me.
Some related posts:
- How I Feel About Stoicism: I’m not a fan.
- A Flowbituary for Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi: An appreciation for the master of flow.
My Out at Office Message
I’ve written quite a bit about LGBTQ issues,3 but this is one of the best. It’s about my journey as a gay professional.
A few more LGBTQ posts:
- Lessons From a Pink-Stained Wretch: What I learned as the only out reporter at the Tribune.
- We’re Not Here: LGBTQ Representation in My Childhood: A concert got me thinking about how LGBTQ people were vilified, lampooned, ignored, or worse when I was growing up.
- Three Words for Allies to Live By: Empathy, education, and advocacy.
Of course, don’t forget to check out Gayskool: A new post every day in Pride Month.
The Best Laid Plans of Dogs and Men
Our secret mission in Havana didn’t go as expected.
Here’s another doggo post you may enjoy: Happy Linus Day. It’s about how the little red rascal joined Britt, Lucy, and me.
Footnotes
- This is actually the third or fourth iteration of the Daily Dave. I started the first version on Blogger in 2002. I think of those versions as trial runs or pilot episodes. What you’re reading now is the real deal. ↩︎
- If you’re good at math (like the Complimentary Spouse), you’ll notice that the Daily Dave isn’t quite so daily. The average is a post every 2.5 days. I’m not changing the name of the blog, though. The Dailyish Dave doesn’t have the same ring. ↩︎
- Which should come as a surprise to absolutely nobody. ↩︎
Nature Walk
It has been a while since I posted some critter photos from Bayshore Boulevard. Here some recent animal encounters, starting with a dolphin sighting.
It was early in the morning when I saw this squirrel, so he was more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than I was.
Most birds fly away when you approach them, but this Royal Tern friend didn’t seem to mind me or my camera. In fact, doesn’t it look like he’s trying to stare me down? He’s not even bothering to notice the crepuscular rays in the background.
Who knows what type of animal I’ll see next on Bayshore. A Lion? A Tiger? A Bear? Oh my!
Don’t Cry Over Spilled … What?
Good glavin! After finding a Simpsons neologism in the New York Times crossword puzzle a few days ago, I discovered another Simpsons invention in the dairy aisle in Publix.
Malk isn’t new. Nearly 30 years ago, Springfield Elementary School substituted malk for milk to cut costs. There were some ill effects, as Bart discovered.
If malk can become a reality, why not Chippos?
Or Nuts and Gum?
Or Krusty-O’s with a surprise toy inside?
Actually, forget about the Krusty-O’s. Kids’ breakfast cereal is unhealthy enough without the risk of internal bleeding.
The Answer Wasn’t “Kwyjibo”
As a diehard fan of the Simpsons — well, of the Golden Age of the Simpsons — I was ecstatic to see the clue for 1 Across in Saturday’s New York Times Crossword puzzle:
The answer, of course, was …
The Complimentary Spouse looked up from his phone and said, “Did you see the email? Ruth Glickman died.”
My heart sank. The world had just become colder. It had lost one of its warmest people.
From one perspective, Britt and I had known Ruth for nearly 20 years. She was one of the first people we met when we joined Schaarai Zedek. I don’t remember that first encounter, but I’m pretty sure it went like this: Ruth saw two newcomers at shul one night, came over, and said hello. We had a brief but wonderful conversation, and then we parted ways.
From another perspective, Britt and I have known Ruth for about half a day. That’s because if you add up all the time we had actually interacted with her — talking before and after services, noshing on black and white cookies at onegs, sitting together at events, it wasn’t a lot. If I’m wrong about it being half a day, it’s because I’m overestimating, not underestimating.
Short but Meaningful Moments
The number of minutes we spent with Ruth doesn’t matter. It’s the quality of each one of those minutes.
When she saw us, she always came over. It certainly wasn’t because she had nobody else to talk to — she was well-known and well-liked at Schaarai Zedek, and people loved socializing with her. But when she spoke to Britt and me, her focus was always on us. No matter where the conversation went — and it went everywhere, from idle chatter about the weather to passionate discussions about the environment and civil rights — she was genuinely interested and insightful.
I learned long ago that it’s easy to fake politeness but not kindness.
I don’t know if there’s a word for people you feel connected to, even though they only play an infinitesimal role in your life. Perhaps we should name them Ruths.
A Fuller Picture
I’ve been thinking a bit about how well you can actually know a person based on short interactions, as wonderful and open as those interactions are. Britt and I had a few pieces of knowledge about Ruth, and from them, we extrapolated an image of who she was. But it’s difficult to derive a trend from a few data points.
At Ruth’s memorial service this afternoon, Britt and I discovered that our impression of Ruth was right on the mark. She was warm and welcoming to everyone. She offered help freely, never seeking reward or recognition. She cared deeply about family, sustainability, and voting rights — topics that frequently arose when we were with her.
We learned about her extensive volunteer experience, especially with Tampa General Hospital. We also learned that she was the same way with others that she was with us: thoughtful and attentive.
Rabbi Simon said Ruth didn’t want a memorial service at first, as she didn’t seek to be the center of attention. She relented not long before she died with two provisos: She wanted Cantor Cannizzaro to sing, and the service had to be short. Both of her wishes were granted.
“That Should’t Be the Case”
Before the service started, Britt told Ruth’s daughter that her mother always made us feel special and welcome. I spoke with one of Ruth’s friends.
“How long did you know her?” I asked.
“All my life,” she said.”
“We only know her from Shaarai Zedek,” I said. “We honestly didn’t know much about her until we read the obituary.”
“I think it’s funny how little we know about people until they die,” she said. “That shouldn’t be the case.”
Truer words have never been spoken.
Our Dirty History on Display
At a fundraiser at the Portico Cafe1 Friday night, the Complimentary Spouse noticed something out of the corner of his eye and pointed at it.
“There are somebody’s ashes on that shelf.”
I looked and didn’t see an urn. “Where?” I asked.
“Right there.”
I looked again and saw what he was pointing at. It wasn’t an urn. It was a jar of dirt with a label on it. I recognized it instantly.
“Remember when we went to the Legacy Museum in Montgomery? They had a bunch of jars because they were collecting soil from every lynching site,” I said. “I’m sure that’s one of them.”
“Oh yeah,” Britt said. “I remember that.”
We moved closer. The label said:
Lewis Jackson
Hillsborough County, Florida
December 4, 1903
I asked the barista at the Portico Cafe if the jar was indeed part of the Equal Justice Initiative’s Soil Collection Project. She said yes, and added that a historical marker had just been put up at the actual site.
(The Soil Collection Project and Community Historical Market Project are two parts of EJI’s Community Remembrance Project. The Legacy Museum is just a few miles away from another EJI project, the iconic and moving National Memorial for Peace and Justice.2)
Seeing that soil filled me with sorrow, as it was a tangible reminder of our history of bigotry and violence. One hundred and twenty years later, our society is still cursed with those plagues, and a lot of the progress that has been made is being eroded.
But that jar also made me hopeful. It shows that people — well, not all people — don’t want to hide from the shame of the past. That leads to dialogue, and dialogue can lead to change.
Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it without a sense of ironic futility.
Errol Morris, filmmaker
These jars might make people uncomfortable, but discomfort is the only way we’ll evolve on these issues.
There’s pain in that soil, but without soil, nothing can grow.
___
1 The Portico Cafe is a coffee shop founded by a local Methodist church. It helps recovering addicts, people who were in jail, and others get second chances by giving them meaningful jobs. The revenue goes toward local homelessness initiatives.
2 This monument is powerful, disturbing, and essential. It records the individual victims of lynching while conveying the enormity of the violence.
The Random Musings of a Random Volunteer
This is an extended version of something I posted on Facebook a few days ago.
As an ACLU of Florida volunteer, one of my favorite things to do is to get out in the community, explain our mission, and advocate for change. I got to do that twice recently.
Last weekend, I participated in a talkback session at “When the Righteous Triumph” at Stageworks Theatre. A few days ago, I spoke to the Tampa City Council about an initiative to make our Citizens Review Board more independent (which passed).
At Stageworks, someone listed everything going wrong in Florida and asked how she could help. I could tell she felt overwhelmed. I shared my personal view on this:
First, try not to focus on the entirety of the situation. Pick one organization or cause that resonates with you, and participate as much as you have time for — even if it’s just a few phone calls a month or showing up for a meeting.
Second, understand that no one will solve all these problems by themselves — if you think that way, you will be frustrated and burn out quickly. Think of yourself as part of a team, and do something that aligns with your strengths and makes you feel satisfied. Even a small effort makes a big difference.
And, third, wear pants when you’re going to be on stage. I was woefully underdressed on Sunday.
Where Passion Meets Usefulness
The conversation at Stageworks got me thinking: Why do I bother volunteering? It’s a good question — especially today in Florida, where progress is slow and setbacks are frequent. If Sisyphus were here, he’d say, “fuck this, I’m going back to my rock.”
I think it’s because I get to do good things by doing things I’m good at.
Here’s how to parse that sentence:
- I get to do good things: I get to help make our country more equal and just by protecting and advancing civil rights. I’m deeply committed to this cause — not just because I’m a gay man, but because I’m a human being.
- By doing things I’m good at: I can apply the experience and unique set of skills I’ve developed over the past [age redacted] years.
Put those two together, and you have a compelling reason to volunteer. Buddhist monk Jay Shetty would call this Dharma.
Everyone has a psychophysical nature which determines where they flourish and thrive. Dharma is using this natural inclination, the things you’re good at, your thrive mode, to serve others.
Jay Shetty, “Think Like a Monk”
The Indigo Girls put it this way:
If I have a care in the world, I have a gift to bring.
Indigo Girls, “Hammer and a Nail”
In my volunteer life, I’ve gravitated toward opportunities that play to my strengths. I’m not a lawyer or policy expert, but I certainly know how to solve problems, collaborate, develop strategies, explain things clearly, and create compelling narratives. One of the things I do best is craft messages that resonate with people, make emotional connections, and inspire action. That’s why I sat on the stage after the play and spoke to the city council.
By applying my skills, I’ve played a small but meaningful role in improving police accountability, restoring voting rights, reforming the criminal justice system, protecting free speech, and more. These have all been group efforts, and it feels good to know that I’ve contributed some knowledge and expertise that others might not possess.
Living at a Higher State
Another thing I have discovered is that volunteering improves my mental well-being. That seems counterintuitive, considering that it can be hard work, setbacks are frequent, and knowing that others suffer takes an emotional toll.
Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi says serving others can create a state of flow — a state of mind in which people are engaged, involved, and perform their best.
Unfortunately, many people who move in the public arena do not act at very high levels of complexity. Politicians tend to seek power, philanthropists fame, and would-be saints often seek to prove how righteous they are. These goals are not so hard to achieve, provided one invests enough energy in them. The greater challenge is not only to benefit oneself, but to help others in the process. It is more difficult, but much more fulfilling, for the politician to actually improve social conditions, for the philanthropist to help out the destitute, and for the saint to provide a viable model of life to others.
Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, “Flow: The Psychology of Optimum Performance.” Emphasis mine.
Again, Shetty would connect this to the concept of Dharma:
When your natural talents and passions (your varna) connect with what the universe needs (seva) and become your purpose, you are living in your dharma. When you spend your time and energy living in your dharma, you have the satisfaction of using your best abilities and doing something that matters to the world. Living in your dharma is a certain route to fulfillment.
Jay Shetty, “Think Like a Monk.” Again, emphasis mine.
This Dharma stuff sounds great. Perhaps I should become a Buddhist. But for now, I’m satisfied just being a volunteer.
Some Advice
It’s easy to become a volunteer, but it takes some effort to volunteer in a way that makes you feel valued and impactful. Here are some tips:
- Find a cause you’re really passionate about: Relevance will make your work more personal and meaningful.
- Shop around: There are dozens — maybe hundreds — of organizations dedicated to your cause. You don’t just have to go with the biggest and most famous ones.
- Consider the culture: If you don’t click with an organization, find another one. You don’t want to feel isolated, unmotivated, or disengaged.
- The most important thing you can volunteer is your time: Money buys stuff. People create value and make an impact.
- Make it a learning experience: When I joined the ACLU, I was able to use and improve professional skills that I couldn’t at work — especially leadership skills. Doing so helped me advance my career.
- Don’t overcommit, and feel free to say no: If you don’t set boundaries, you might find yourself in over your head. You can also say that you’re not ready for something yet. I turned up some volunteer leadership positions until I felt ready to take them on.
- Take care of yourself: If you’re emotionally or mentally exhausted, you have burnout. Take a step back until you’re ready to give your all again, and do not feel guilty about it. This is the most important piece of advice I can give you.