Cuore Coraggioso

” Sleep came like a fruit which falls into the hand almost before you have touched the stem.”

I wish this guy, Hypnos/Somnus would visit me more often. Deep slumber is one of the blessings of youth which I miss -a lot. I’m not sure why an uninterrupted night’s sleep eludes me. Blame it on my kidneys, or my hormones…or maybe my snoring. Or maybe it’s the sense that I’ve accumulated more days that lie behind me than those that lie ahead. I feel my heart pound in my chest as I stare into the dark with my eyes wide open. “Did I do it?” I ask. Did you do what… comes the answer. If only I could dream.

I like him.

She said, “I think I’m constantly in a state of adjustment.” 

Here’s a picture of a guy who has always been my hero. Growing up, he was just my Dad. I never thought much about his military service in WW II because he rarely talked about it. “Were you scared, Dad?,” I asked him more than a few times. “I was too young to be scared. There was really no time for me to think about what I was doing,” he answered. “I just did what I had to do.” The way he made it sound, being scared was a luxury that time and circumstance didn’t allow.

Drafted on his eighteenth birthday, the same day he graduated from high school, he shipped out in 6 weeks as a first class seaman aboard the escort ship the USS Price. My father served in both theaters of the War, Europe and the South Pacific, which was apparently a rare thing. Because he was small, he was a gunner, a fact which fascinated me when I was a child. I had to know if he killed any one. He never told me.

My sister and I would often ask him about naval combat. We were after the gory details but he never gave us any. ‘I’d rather forget those parts,” he’d say ..”I don’t want to think about them.” 

He did share a few things with us. My Dad was a feather weight boxer,  a golden glove champ. When his shipmates found out he could fight , they arranged matches for him with worthy (bigger) opponents. He was dubbed the ship’s mascot, the ‘Cat-lic Guienny’ who could throw down some mean punches.  ”They never knocked me out. I never lost a fight, but I didn’t win them all either,” he tells us to this day.

I used to wear my Dad’s golden gloves on a  chain around my neck when I was in high school until I lost them in gym class one day. My Dad never revered trinkets or ornaments of any kind. He wasn’t even mad at me when I told him I lost his golden gloves. But I felt terrible and I presented him with a new pair many years later as a Christmas present. Sometimes he wears them.

I think about my Dad’s service to his country and I am grateful, but WW II seemed more like a movie than a reality to me for most of my life. I never knew the eighteen year old soldier/sailor who went away to war. Instead I have come to understand that my Dad was in the service his entire life -in service to the family he loves and the community where he lives. The only personal ambition he ever had was to keep his family safe and happy, and to help others who needed it. I’m not talking about sending money to a charity or marching for a cause. I’m talking visiting friends in the hospital, donating blood when called upon, driving people to the grocery store who had no means of transportation, taking care of his grandchildren, shoveling snow for a neighbor, always taking the time to greet you with a joke and warm up the room with a laugh. I know him as peace maker in the family, the guy who is always urging his family to get along, when minor offenses crop up, always seeing the best in everyone. Both of his parents died in his arms when no one else was there. He always answers the call. When my old Italian Aunt Zisi could no longer walk to Mass each morning, my father would wake up an hour earlier than he had to in order to drive her to and from church, before he went to work. Not the stuff of medals and parades of glory but heroic nonetheless.

I know he fought in the great war. I know the war has informed his life in many ways that I will never understand, but I know in my heart that it is his kinder service as husband to my Mom, father to me and my sister and to his two son-in-laws who lost their own fathers, grandfather to my children and niece and nephews and friend to all who have had the pleasure of knowing him that is his greatest tribute. His official service to his country is a metaphor for his ongoing service in his civilian life. 

The US Navy like every one else was lucky to have him! Happy Veterans Day, Dad! Thank you for fighting back then and for continuing to fight the good fight today.

From Corporate Zipper Head to Populist Guru:

How Steve Jobs transformed the corporate landscape of information technology, formerly known as the computer industry.

            Much has and will be written about Steve Jobs in the wake of his untimely death. We have all benefited from his innovative products that revolutionized the way we share and receive data. A mere tap of our finger upon the surface of a screen or keyboard on any hand held i-product instantly connects us to information, music and people. And boy do we love our sleek, perky Macs with their windowless icons! Never again are we to be annoyed by random pop up warnings asking for permission to download a program! Intuitive products, Macs are visually driven and they allow for even the most technically challenged among us to become true believers in the glamour that is Apple. Operating a Mac is like steering a front wheeled drive vehicle when compared to the clumsier rear wheeled drive PC. Thank you Steve Jobs for making information, communication and entertainment as easily accessible as plucking a you know what from the proverbial tree.

But 30 years ago, long before the i-Mac, i-Phone, i-Tunes, i- Pads and Pods became household names, information technology was simply known as the computer industry, an industry that was dominated by IBM. My husband was a fledgling salesman in those days, fresh out of college with a marketing degree and hell bent on breaking into the computer business. Scoring a job with IBM was his true north. He aspired to be a ‘zipper head,’ dressed in a three piece suit along with an army of other zipper heads, climbing the corporate ladder in measured success doled out by Big Blue. In the meantime, he sold copiers, word processing and mini- computers, hoping to gain enough business experience to attract an IBM recruiter. When IBM never came a-calling, he accepted a job with a then unheard of company –Apple Computer, Inc, selling micro-computers to the Philadelphia market. The rest, of course is history. My husband traded in his slow steady climb for a wild ride and he hasn’t looked back since.

Steve Jobs’ infiltration into the IBM monopoly with Apple products was indeed a coup. However, his products weren’t the only agents of change. The way Jobs conducted business was a revolution in itself. He had toppled the corporate giant (IBM) seemingly with a sling shot and without wearing a suit. An unlikely CEO, Jobs wore sneakers and jeans with a white shirt and suspenders, and said things like “insanely great” when introducing a new product. He was enthusiastic and iconoclastic, not buttoned down and cautious. Gone were the three piece suits and corporate attire. There were now casual Fridays, sales meetings in Hawaii and unlimited expense accounts to do what needed to be done –get resellers to push Apple product. Instead of courting businesses for months selling mini-computer systems that cost in excess of $60,0000, my husband was part of a sales force that brought computer technology to the mom and pop shop down the street for $3,500. He went from pushing a very straight corporate sales policy to having his own “pop-corn stand” imbued with entrepreneurial energy that Jobs modeled for his sales force. It was not uncommon for him to walk into a computer reseller with a fan of hundred dollar bills in his hand to spiff individual sales people for moving Macs in their store, and that was on top of their commission! He was encouraged to use his creative skills to win business wherever he could to gain mind share in the consumer marketplace. Baseball games, boat trips, golf outings, lobster dinners were the order of the day; I remember my husband was admonished a few times for not dipping into his expense account vigorously enough. Apple was a young, edgy company, unafraid to take chances, putting computers in the hands of small business owners, graphic artists, students and children, instead of business executives with corner offices.   Apple was the anti-corporate corporation. And Jobs was the populist visionary at the helm who never lost touch with what the consumer wanted.

As Apple products changed the nature of computers from impossibly technical machines with mysterious operating codes to user friendly desk top work stations  (with a mouse) , likewise Steve Jobs, himself helped to usher in a friendlier model of doing business. Once when my husband attended the new product roll out for the Mac in Hawaii, he found himself standing in the urinal next to Steve Jobs. He was the kind of CEO who used a public rest room instead of an executive wash room, the kind who seemed more like a man and less like a mogul, the kind you could imagine using his own products instead of just marketing them.

My husband never recovered from the heady experience of working for Jobs at Apple in those early years. From Apple he learned that the corporate climb was not for him and he was inspired to start his own business. He left Apple in 1988, shortly after Jobs left in 1986.

Right before my husband left, he won a sales contest and Apple flew us out to Pasadena to attend the 1987 Super Bowl. I remember talking with his colleagues at a cocktail party about Steve Jobs. “Did you know that he’s only 26 years old?,”  someone asked. “Yeah,” the regional sales manager quipped, “He’s been 26 forever.”

To me, Steve Jobs will always be the 26 year old CEO who gave us so much more than forbidden fruit.

leeanna41:

levon

Iconic photo of Levon Helm. Is he a Civil War general, a dirt farmer, or just another pilgrim on the road? Or is he one of the rarest of breeds, a bona fide drummer amidst the American wasteland of auto tuned electronic drumbeats and manufactured music?

(via saltforsalt)