America – Life In A Word

Peachy Keen

We’re getting a new dessert destination in town called “The Peach Cobbler Factory”. It’s a franchise I’ve never heard of despite locations in twenty-six states. As you’d expect, The Peach Cobbler Factory offers fruit pie in a cup (à la mode or sans ice cream) but also lots of other desserts. Choose from cheesecakes, cookies, or brownies, and all sorts of spins on peaches. Now if only I actually liked peaches.

Without “cobbler” in the name this business would never have caught my eye. The truth is, I love peach cobbler. It’s one of those foods I find inexplicably tasty even when its main ingredient doesn’t appeal to me. The same can be said for Fig Newtons. I’ve never been a fig fan yet I’ve eaten scores of the cookies. Not that they taste like fresh figs. But cobbler tastes like fresh fruit.

A peach cobbler cinnamon roll? Maybe, maybe not.

I grew up in a household that was all pie and no cake (read my take on pies in Any Way You Slice It). My mother used to make delicious hot fruit pies from scratch. Cherry, lemon meringue, apple, and peach, and there might’ve been a blueberry in there somewhere as well. The cherry was always my favorite but the peach was a close second. My mother knew how to make a homemade crust, with the wonderful latticework on top to finish off the look. She also knew what ingredients went into the pie to give it just the right consistency.

So go figure; I love hot peach pie even if I don’t love peaches. Maybe I had too many as a kid (not by choice), sliced into a bowl and served with cream. Maybe the sugar and crust of the pie somehow makes the peaches more palatable. Whatever the reason, I know I’ll be visiting the The Peach Cobbler Factory and giving their products a try.

Peaches are a big deal around here, evidenced by the groves (no, not “orchards”) of trees just about everywhere you look. South Carolina harvests over 90,000 tons of the fuzz balls every year, over twice as many as our neighbor to the west. That’s right; Georgia may consider itself “The Peach State” (as their signs boast when we cross the Savannah River) and their pretty girls might be “Georgia Peaches”, but South Carolinians know which state really delivers the fruit. On that note, here’s more peach trivia:

The peaches you buy at the market are likely a local product, but no country produces them in numbers like China does. If you added up the peach production from every country in the world you wouldn’t be close to half the number coming out of China.
A nectarine is technically a peach. So is an apricot. The fruits are only separated by one recessive gene (causing the “shaved” look of a nectarine). You can even find peaches and nectarines growing on the same tree.
Peaches come in 300 varieties. The “yellow” is the one you’re familiar with but the white is more common. Peaches can also look like donuts (flatter, with a hole in the middle). They’re categorized as “freestone” or “clingstone” according to how the pit separates (or doesn’t) from the fruit itself.
Peach fuzz is a form of defense. It protects the fruit from the rot brought on by surface water. It also discourages bugs from taking a bite. Maybe I should skip my morning shave whenever I work in the backyard?

I’ll be sure to report back after I give The Peach Cobbler Factory a try. I’m hoping their signature dessert is as peachy keen as Mom used to make. Of course, it’ll be cobbler – not pie – which adds to today’s trivia. With a cobbler I don’t get a crust under the fruit… only on top. That’s okay. As long as it’s hot and a la mode I’ll be transported back to the pie days of my youth. With desserts like those, who needs cake?

Some content sourced from the Lane Southern Orchards website, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #5 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King

As predicted, we’ll continue to build this castle in modules. Bag 9 came together in a cool eighteen minutes, but Bag 10 was another test of patience with more of those tiny, tiny pieces. The end result of both bags is the structure and tower you see above, carefully snapped into the surrounding model after I completed it. It’s known as a “bower”, a private apartment for the ladies of the house. Fancy digs, no?

I would’ve loved to see the bower in all its glory. The fact is, with only 14 of Neuschwanstein’s 200 rooms completed the bower is likely just the elegant exterior walls you see here and nothing else. And those walls are full of windows, aren’t they? I’ve added dozens of windows to the castle (with several dozen more to go). And – painful lesson – those windows need to be oriented correctly. I got one wrong on the lowest level of the bower, which meant several steps of deconstruction/reconstruction. Not so fun.

Here’s a close-up of Neuschwanstein’s “lower courtyard”. It’s where King Ludwig would’ve welcomed his guests when they arrived. It’s also where you – should you choose to visit – will begin your tour of this magnificent structure. When all’s said and done, the castle itself will utterly tower over this courtyard, a statement about not only the castle but also Ludwig himself.

Running build time: 5:07.

Total leftover pieces: 37.

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Rudy (1993). I can’t believe this movie came out over thirty years ago. Then again, I can’t believe I graduated from Notre Dame over forty years ago. Extreme bias aside, Rudy is a story of perseverance unlike any other. Just when you think Rudy Ruettiger can’t 1) Get accepted into Notre Dame, 2) Make the football team, 3) Actually play in a football game… Rudy delivers the goods time and again. You need hear only a few seconds of the flute-soloed theme to know most of the soundtrack. I can tie every bit of the music back to specific scenes in the move but that’s just me, a Notre Dame fanatic. I’ll be watching my Fighting Irish – in person – this weekend as they take on Wisconsin at Green Bay’s Lambeau Field. Meanwhile, you’ll be listening to the Rudy soundtrack. Here.

Hat Trick

In the coastal village where my wife and I spend a couple of weeks each summer, a hat boutique has been converted into a gelato shop. An’s Hatmakers, paying homage to the location’s prior business, claims to be one of the top five gelato shops in America two years running. You’d believe it if you saw the line of twenty-plus patrons we joined to give it a try. But there’s more to this story than ice cream and headgear. In fact, you might call it something of a hat trick.

My wife and I have always been ice cream fanatics, so much so that we’ve banned any and all versions from our household freezer for fear of overindulging. I blame Häagen-Dazs, the brand that brought ice cream to a whole new level of quality (and butterfat) when it debuted in the 1970s. Today a pint of Haagen-Dazs sets you back $6-$7. That may seem like a lot until you consider places like An’s Hatmakers. A pint of An’s runs you twice that much.

Seriously, who pays $15 for a pint of ice cream? Apparently more people than the twenty-plus in line at An’s. Artisanal gelaterias and ice cream shops have been popping up online and on-street in numbers like we’ve never seen before. Baskin-Robbins and Coldstone Creamery won’t be threatened – especially with these eye-popping prices – but it may interest you to know the customer who buys at Baskins is the same one who buys at An’s.

It’s an oft-heard post-pandemic story. A person is unexpectedly pushed out of their corporate job by COVID. Exploring their inner-entrepreneur, this person combines something they have with something they’re good at and voila… a boutique business is born. I’ve just described A to Z Creamery in Minneapolis. A to Z was born in a home kitchen, from nothing more than an ice cream machine, a penchant for creating unique flavors, and a bit of online marketing. A to Z started as a “drop business” (filling orders online as they came in) but today they’re a thriving retail establishment. At $15 a pint.

$15 ice cream speaks to an interesting trend of economic tolerance. With prices through the roof on all sorts of items, it’s fair to say some of us can no longer afford (or no longer choose to pay for) the things we would’ve dropped big money on ten years ago. Maybe we forego a new car for a used one. Or an expensive trip for a stay-cation. As a reward for being frugal we may find ourselves with a little spending money. So we opt for “micro-indulgences” like overpriced gelato.

The pandemic also fostered more of a you-only-live-once (YOLO) attitude. We’re more about enjoying the moment instead of planning for the future. It’s the primary reason An’s and A to Z have lines of customers down the block. I’m reminded of the early years of our marriage, when my wife and I struggled with California’s high cost of living. We couldn’t afford the houses our Silicon Valley neighbors boasted so what did we do instead? We bought a luxury sedan we really had no business owning. But that car sure made us feel better.

Here at home, our little town hosts three ice cream shops. Each sells a perfectly good product. If you convert the cost of their scoops to pints (4:1), any one of them tops out at around $8. Which makes me think the next time I’m at An’s I’ll be buying a hat instead of gelato. After all, I want to have something I’ll eat if I ever spend $15 on ice cream.

Some content sourced from the KSL.com article, “What a $15 pint of ice cream says about the economy”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #4 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King)

Believe it or not, I wish King Ludwig built an even bigger castle. If he had maybe LEGO would’ve used bigger pieces for its model. Bags 7 and 8 (of 23 bags of pieces) contained some of the smallest bits of LEGO I’ve ever tried to get my fingers around. When I first spilled out the bags I let out a big sigh, not just for today’s construction but for the similar chapters sure to follow. After all, we’ve only built the Gatehouse and a portion of the lowest level of the castle so far. The finished structure will be about three times the height you see in the photo. That’s a lot more LEGO bits.

We built away from the main model today. Each bag represented a separate “module” of the castle like you see in this photo. When it’s complete you drop the whole assembly into the base. This sort of approach is possible with the cranes we use in modern construction but certainly not in Ludwig’s time. His builders would’ve been creating the castle one brick at a time. Regardless, at least we have the beginnings of the castle instead of just boring Bavarian Alps, right? The Gatehouse was the first part of the castle to be completed back in 1872, so credit LEGO for designing the model to be built in the same order.

Here’s what we started with today. Most of these LEGOs are seriously small.

As I searched for tiny piece after tiny piece today I got to thinking, “Man, it’d be nice to have an AI bot right now. This bot could consult the instruction manual, scurry over to the piles of LEGOs, and haul back exactly what I needed for each step. But hey, like a jigsaw puzzle the hunting for the pieces is (supposed to be) part of the fun. I just wish they were bigger than cake crumbs!

Running build time: 4:02.

Total leftover pieces: 28.

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Dances with Wolves (1990). No one should disagree Dances with Wolves is the crowning achievement of Kevin Costner’s film career. With it he won the Academy Award for Best Producer, Best Director, and was nominated for Best Actor. I’ll never forget a random hotel stay with my wife, where we turned on the television to Dances with Wolves just as it was starting. We’d never seen the movie before. Three hours later we sat speechless, having long missed our dinner reservation. John Barry’s scoring of the film also won the Oscar and is entirely deserving. Understandably – assuming you’ve seen the movie – the melodies are mostly haunting and forlorn, but the score is beautifully tied together time and again with the unforgettable theme music. Listen to it here.

Don’t Fence Me In!

Early on in the Christmas classic It’s A Wonderful Life, there’s a scene where George Bailey absentmindedly strolls back and forth on the sidewalk in front of Mary Hatch’s house, dragging a stick along her fence. Mary sees him from an upstairs window, leans out and yells, “What are you doing… picketing? It’s a great line, wordplay on her front yard fence.

For generations, picket fences have stood hand-in-hand with the American houses immediately behind them. These quaint-looking property markers are considered symbols of middle class prosperity and an idyllic family life. Even the “American Dream” includes a white picket fence. But maybe no longer. The dream seems to have been updated. Americans no longer want pickets… they want walls.

As much as I want to believe a high, solid fence is merely the mark of an eccentric neighbor, facts don’t lie. Suburbia is abandoning the picket fence in favor of taller, more robust barriers. A Connecticut fencing company used to fill 40% of its orders with pickets. How many orders have they had for the low white fences in 2026? Zero. Instead they’re filling a demand for panels of plastic (PVC) seven feet on a side, mounted between even higher columns. The welcoming American cottage is turning into the locked-down American fortress.

One could blame the abandonment of pickets on cost and maintenance. After all, wood needs to be kept dry and repainted to avoid rot, while PVC is less expensive and lasts a whole lot longer. Fencing companies tried switching out wooden pickets for plastic ones but apparently the open look isn’t “closed off” enough for today’s preference. There’s a concerning motive at work here. People no longer want to know what’s going on beyond their fences (or even more concerning, they don’t want you to know what’s going on behind them.)

To each their own but I’m still a fan of pickets. They define a property yet don’t remove the “welcome” because they’re short and have gaps. You can easily chat up your neighbor whether you’re twenty feet removed or right up against the fence. As for the look, pickets don’t have to be boring, pointy stakes. They can be crowned with spades, spears, balls, crosses, fleur di lis (for you French-Americans) or whatever else your circular saw can come up with.

A high, imposing fence is the last thing I’d want surrounding my property. Having said that, the first house my wife and I bought had one on three sides. We lived on a California postage-stamp, with both neighboring houses on minimum setbacks. Without the “privacy fence” we’d be looking from our windows right into theirs. It takes awhile to forget what you’ve seen when a neighbor doesn’t draw down the bathroom shade.

Our next couple of houses had no fences at all. The properties were bigger so privacy was solved by distance instead of by division. As for the house we live in now, we’re surrounded by “three-board” fence consistent with the other properties in our community. Three-board is designed to keep horses in the pastures where they belong, but doesn’t wall you off from your neighbors. A three-board is anything but a privacy fence and that’s fine with me. I just wish it was made out of pickets instead.

The math on a picket fence to replace my three-board is not what I’d hoped. Surrounding our five acres would take upwards of 1,000 pickets. Oof. There’s a lot “at stake” there, not to mention our horses would happily step over in pursuit of greener pastures. I’ll just stick with what I’ve got. There’s a wonderful life on the other side of my fence and I can still see it.

Some content sourced from the Pocono Record article, “Picket fence adds privacy, security with classic style”, and the U.S. Sun article, “Is the white picket fence completely dead?”

Best Feet Forward

Remember the scene at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade where Indy chooses from a dozen or more chalices in hopes of finding the Holy Grail? The correct cup turned out to be the most modest of them all. Starting this month, forty-eight soccer teams vie for their own Holy Grail (an entirely immodest cup), across sixteen venues jam-packed with thousands of delirious fans. This month, North America welcomes the madness that is the World Cup.

Let me admit right up front, I am a sports fan but not a soccer fan. I’ve enjoyed the American version of football as long as I can remember but not so much the other version made popular by the World Cup. By the standards of a lot of sports, soccer can be described as slow, boring, and low scoring. But of course, any soccer aficionado will tell you there’s more to enjoying the game than meets the eye; much more. Maybe the 104 matches over the next six weeks will get me to agree.

I won’t waste this space on a primer on soccer; not even the complicated format of the World Cup competition itself. Your favorite browser or AI will be happy to fill in those fútbol blanks. Instead, I want to focus on what lies just outside of the Cup. You’ll find headlines and curiosities that wouldn’t have happened without this event, but are perhaps more interesting than the kicks on the field…

for instance…

Trivia question: How many teams sought qualification to become one of the forty-eight participating in this year’s World Cup? I’ll give you a hint: We have 195 recognized countries in the world. Would you guess 150 teams? 125? 100? Sorry, you’re heading in the wrong direction (and it’s a trick question). There were over two hundred soccer teams when the qualifying rounds began almost three years ago. How that number was whittled to forty-five (plus one each for host countries Canada, U.S., and Mexico) would take way more words than I am allotted today.

Here’s something less trivial. One of six teams is destined to hoist the Golden Ball trophy (worth about $10M all by itself): England, France, Spain, Portugal, Brazil, or Argentina. Maybe your sentiments lie with one of the host teams but the facts and the resumes don’t lie: Europe and South America have dominated professional soccer for decades. Baseball may be as American as apple pie, but we’re talking about a sport for the legs, not the arms. Having said that, you won’t have to wait long to get your first look at the Americans. We “kick off” against Paraguay tomorrow night.

If you’re looking for a longshot to win this thing (and I mean l-o-n-g-g-g-g-g-g shot), choose one of the teams from Curacao, Jordan, Uzbekistan, or Cape Verde. These countries are playing in the World Cup for the first time (and the World Cup’s been going on for a hundred years). To me, curacao is a liquor that tastes like Triple Sec. Jordan is a man’s name. Uzbekistan is somewhere in Asia surrounded by countries whose names I also can’t pronounce. And (Cape) verde means green in Spanish. Notice nowhere here am I saying anything about the talents of their World Cup soccer teams.

Speaking of alcohol, it’ll be interesting to see how the fortunes of the beer, wine, and liquor producers are swayed by the World Cup. With sixteen stadiums and 104 matches, you’d expect a boost in drink sales big enough to create Niagara Falls. Unfortunately for them, the World Cup is hosted by a continent where drinking is descending to record low levels, with the younger generations promoting the idea alcohol “is bad for your health”. Maybe fans will raise a glass of milk to the winner like they do at the Indianapolis 500.

The final match will be held in New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium

Like the receiving line at a wedding, I’d love to meet every one of the World Cup fans who make it to the final match in New Jersey’s MetLife Stadium. Why? These people must do some pretty remarkable things for a living. Even with the likelihood the host countries will not be represented, a ticket is projected to set you back between $15K and $20K. Fifteen thousand American dollars for three hours of sport. Throw in peripheral expenses and a family of five could easily spend six figures. It’s kind of nuts. No, it’s a whole bowl of nuts. And mark my words, every last seat in MetLife will be filled.

There’s a lot more to be said about the World Cup, and I’ll be tempted to keep you updated over the next six weeks. In the meantime I need to get back to my regular routine. Game #1 and #2 take place today and I have no intention of sitting down to watch. I may kick myself for my lack of attention but hey, now there’s a great way to describe my ability to play soccer.

Some content sourced from the CNN Sports article, “World Cup beginner’s guide…”, the CNN Sports article, “Who are the World Cup favorites?, the CNN Sports article, “The World Cup debutants…”, the CNN Sports article, “Why sky-high ticket prices have sent fans searching…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Beachy Keen

South Carolina’s heat and humidity are quickly moving the dial to “broil” – as they always do this time of year – so my wife and I will go with our most dependable coping mechanism: travel to places other than South Carolina. Technically that’s not quite true because one of those destinations is still South Carolina. Doesn’t matter. The goal is to find temperatures closer to the “bake” setting, where the air movement qualifies as a breeze. Both conditions can be found, of course, at the beach.

I consider myself fortunate to have grown up near a beach. Others may counter by saying the mountains are more desirable, or the desert, or the shores of a pristine lake. To each their own. For me, an upbringing of Pacific Ocean sand and surf turned the calm of the coast into a part of my DNA. I thirst for the beach several times a year. And in the United States alone, I have 650 choices.

Inevitably, 10 of those 650 beaches are rated as “top”. The so-called authority on the subject is a guy nicknamed Dr. Beach. At first I scoffed at the notion that one person could choose the ten best from hundreds, but this doctor takes his medicine seriously. Dr. Beach has identified fifty criteria (fifty!) to evaluate beaches, including water warm enough to swim in, sand clarity, presence of pests (like mosquitos and seagulls), and the size of the ocean waves. He even rates the surrounding noise level generated by humans.

To further solidify his credentials, Dr. Beach disqualifies locales threatened by pollution, erosion, or out-of-control seaweed. He “retires” beaches that have reached the top ten too many times since he started his lists (in 1991). Finally, Dr. Beach has visited every… single… one… of those 650 beaches. He may be obsessed with his subject but I’d say he’s a bona fide authority, wouldn’t you?

Caladesi Island State Park in Clearwater FL

On his list for 2026, Dr. Beach prescribed four in Hawaii, three in Florida, one in Cape Cod, and one in the Hamptons. His tenth selection, coming in at #7, is right here in South Carolina. Whew, that was close. After all, he could’ve picked MY beach and then me and the good doctor would be having a serious conversation.

As you know, the problem with top-ten lists is exposure. Something or somewhere great suddenly becomes headline news and everyone wants a piece of it. Next thing you know that thing or that place becomes too popular, and no longer resembles its former wonderful self. With all due respect to Dr. Beach’s “retirement” strategy, once something becomes “top-ten” we’re not quick to forget about it.

Cape Cod gets busy in the summer months…

I’ve been to a few of Dr. Beach’s top choices for 2026. Maybe not Coast Guard Beach in Cape Cod, but just about every beach on Cape Cod is bucolic. Maybe not Caladesi State Park in Clearwater, Florida but I’ve dipped my toes in the sugar sand and warm waters of a beach in Clearwater. I’ve been to Poipu Beach on the island of Kauai, Hawaii twice, for my honeymoon and for a family reunion. I’m happy to see Poipu ranked as the #1 beach in the United States this year.

I’m even happier to see my two favorite beaches not ranked in the top ten (or anywhere near it) this year. One is on the West Coast and one is right here in South Carolina. One is big and one is small. Both have easy access to the quaint shopping of a nearby village. And both have the kind of views where walking, riding bikes, or simply staring out at the sea never gets old. The names of these beaches are…

Nope. Sorry, no big reveal. Not even the tease of a photo. There aren’t a ton of you readers out there but it only takes one to make my beaches go viral, and then what am I going to do? Find another couple of beaches? Uh-uh, no way. Go find your own beaches. You have 650 to choose from. And God forbid Dr. Beach ever ranks mine in his top ten. If that happens I’ll report him to the “surf board” and demand they pull his license.

Some content sourced from the CNN Travel article, “Hawaii and Florida top list of best U.S. beaches…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

A Relentless Rising Tide

Every year in mid-October, my mailbox gets noticeably fuller with holiday catalogs. The adverts are bold and glossy with all sorts of gifting ideas. I enjoy leafing through their colorful pages. But then they keep coming to my mailbox. And coming. And coming some more. If I saved every one of them I’d probably have a stack as high as my house by mid-December. By my calculations that’s almost as high as the stack I’d have for luxury cruises.

Maybe you’re familiar with the term First-World problem. It refers to “issues that are trivial, experienced by people in affluent, developed nations.” It puts minor annoyances in perspective compared to the more legitimate problems of this world. Good examples of First-World problems: 1) You can’t find the TV remote, 2) You have bad cell phone reception, or 3) Your favorite store only accepts cash. Today’s example of a First-World problem: 4) Too much junk mail from cruise lines.

Yes, I’ve taken a cruise. In fact I’ve taken four: one on the (Pacific) ocean with Carnival, one on the (Baltic) sea with Oceania, and two on the (Rhine, Danube) rivers with Viking. So it’s fair to say I’m a worthy target when it comes to cruise lines pushing their upcoming adventures. For some reason Carnival doesn’t pursue me (maybe I’m too old for their party boats?) but Oceania and Viking have gone – take your pick – full steam ahead or totally overboard. They send countless postcards advertising their cruises, and thick catalogs advertising their entire season’s worth. They love to push you to consider their “off-season, deeply discounted” options. And they love to NOT leave you alone.

It’s safe to say I receive a promotion for a cruise two out of every three days. Most days these adverts seem to give birth to a family. Just yesterday I received six, and two of them – go figure – were identical twins. I guess Viking really wants me to take that cruise. One of those six came from Regent (kind of an orphan), which makes me think Viking and Oceania share their mailing lists. Thanks a lot, guys.

Would I take a luxury cruise right now? Sounds nice, as long as it’s not through the Strait of Hormuz. Sounds nice, as long as I don’t pick up a pandemic-potential virus onboard. Sounds nice, as long as my ship doesn’t get torpedoed the way Cunard’s cruise ship Lusitania did in the early 1900s (read the remarkable story in Erik Larson’s Dead Wake). Maybe I should reconsider my “sounds good”. I sense the gods of cruising are trying to tell me something.

Admittedly, it surprised me to learn the demand for luxury cruises is not down but markedly up right now. You could point to the cost of fuel, the unrest in several parts of the world, or the thought of picking up a virus as reasons people wouldn’t want to cruise. Doesn’t seem to matter. Bookings are at record levels, especially those for “mega-ships” that look like floating water parks and the ones that take you to private islands. When one of my postcards advertises “up to 45% Spring savings!” and another “up to 30% off with free international airfare!”, you just know their profit margins are more than healthy.

But I digress. I need to address my First-World problem. Rather, let’s let Catalog Choice (CC) address it. With a quick online sign-up and a little info from one of my postcards, CC claims they’ll remove the cruise clutter from my mailbox, in the name of “fighting waste, preventing fraud, and simplifying life”. Will they? Time will tell. Maybe I’ll get back to you a few months from now since it’s a matter of global concern. Assuming I’m not on a luxury cruise at the time.

Some content sourced from the Travel and Tour World article, “U.S. Cruise Industry Faces Fuel Shock, Health Fears, and Mega Ship Boom…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Birthday ‘Berty Bells

I was only fourteen when America celebrated 200 years of independence, but I remember it well. The U.S. Mint reproduced the quarter, half-dollar, and dollar coins in the birthday’s honor, with “1776-1976” across the bottom of each face. The quarter held the image of a Colonial drummer on the flip side, while the half-dollar went with Independence Hall and the dollar the Liberty Bell. Now, with America’s Semiquincentennial just two months away, maybe a visit to the Liberty Bell is in order. And you don’t even have to make the pilgrimage to Philadelphia to see it.

As a reminder of America’s 250th birthday, the Liberty Bell is more relevant than ever. The original was cast with the Bible verse Proclaim LIBERTY Throughout all the Land unto all the Inhabitants thereof, and cracked during one of its first dings. The bell was recast twice, relabeled the “Liberty Bell” in the 1830s, and cracked yet again sometime after that. All these years later the crack has come to represent our country’s divisiveness; in other words, the perfect symbol of an imperfect union.

I knew about the Liberty Bell’s history but what I didn’t know about was its many replicas. In the 1950s the U.S. Treasury sponsored a drive to purchase savings bonds, and advertised the bonds by commissioning full-scale reproductions of the Liberty Bell. The bells went to each of the 48 states of that time, the territories of Alaska, Hawaii, Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands, and one more each for the District of Columbia and the Treasury Department itself. So depending on where you live today, you might find yourself a lot closer to the Liberty Bell than you think.

The reproductions are true to the original in just about every way, including the size and the weight, the famous crack, and the Pass and Stowe (bell-caster) trademark. You’d expect to find the bells in prominent locations in each state but it’s more of a treasure hunt than that. Some are in museums. Virginia’s is in a fire house near Monticello. North Carolina’s is in a “secure storage facility”. Arizona’s is touring the state for the next several months. And the one at the U.S. Treasury? It is nowhere to be found, supposedly melted down for the value of it’s 2,080 lbs. of bronze.

The replicas were created at the Paccard Foundry in Lac d’Annecy, France (photo courtesy of Paccard Archives/Paccard Foundry via AP)

I like the thought of ringing the (er, ringing “a”) Liberty Bell to usher in America’s Semiquincentennial. A birthday of that significance deserves more than just extra fireworks. The year before the bicentennial, the Los Angeles Times sponsored a trivia contest, seeking the answer to one question for each state over a period of fifty weeks. Think about a trivia contest in the 1970s. No Internet. No email. Each week you had to look up the trivia question in the (paper) newspaper, write the answer on a (paper) form, mail the form to the Times (with an envelope and a stamp), and then hope you got all fifty right by the end of the year, to be entered into a drawing for a cash prize.

North Carolina’s Liberty Bell in the 1950s (photo courtesy of Pryor Emerson Humphrey Photograph Collection/State Archives of North Carolina via AP)

A few determined souls have been trying to visit all of the Liberty Bell replicas well before the onset of America’s 250th. Check out Tom Campbell’s pursuit at tomlovesthelibertybell.com (he’s up to 40), or Zoe Murphy’s pursuit at zlovesamerica.com (39). My respect for these patriots is not so much for the pursuits but more the effort behind them, which suggests they’re focused on America in a good way, an attitude we need more than ever these days.

Every morning after feeding the horses, I head out to the front of the house and hang the American flag. It’s a symbol of unabashed pride, no matter how some of my fellow Americans might see it. 250 years might be young compared to most other countries but the chapters of our history are just as colorful as theirs. I’m hoping all those Liberty Bells sound loud and proud over the next few months… without earning more cracks when all is said and rung.

Some content sourced from the AP News article, “Meet the Liberty Bell fans visiting little-known replicas…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Happy Days Are Here… Yet Again!

A puff piece is the kind of reporting where the subject matter is rooted in opinion more than it is in fact. It’s “news” to bring out the skeptic in you more than the intellect. Puff pieces run rampant on the Web, like this one from a few weeks back: A Nordic nation is the world’s happiest country… Classic clickbait because you just have to know who tops the list, right? So I did click, and promptly learned this piece was more than just puff.

For the ninth year in a row, Finland is in first place in the World Happiness Report (WHR). That’s first place out of 195 countries – again and again and again. By the kind of coincidence I absolutely adore, I blogged about the WHR exactly nine years ago, when the previous year’s report put Finland in fifth place. Then the Finns got even happier – happiest, in fact – and they’ve stood atop the podium ever since.

I’m a skeptic when it comes to a report that measures something as subjective as happiness. Seriously, who am I to judge if you are happy, dopey, grumpy, or bashful (or even one of Snow White’s dwarfs at all)? But nine years in a row of anything is worth investigating. And darned if the WHR isn’t based on brass facts. The WHR only ranks 147 countries (“only”) because they didn’t get survey responses from anyone in the other 48. But those 147 gave thousands of responses on a 0-10 scale; everything from perceptions of freedom and corruption to feelings of life expectancy and generosity. Then the WHR averaged those scores against surveys from the last two years (to remove the impact of global events like COVID). That formula gives us Finland for the win… again.

I fall for the usual shallow trappings of what makes a person happy. Wealth, I thought; Finland must be a rich country. But in the latest list of Countries by Total Private Wealth, Finland comes in a modest 43rd. Then I thought, power. Power makes you happy. Not so again. The World Population Review of Most Powerful Countries ranks Finland 45th. Finally I thought, fame. Who doesn’t want to be famous? Well, the Finns don’t. Seriously, can you name a famous Finn in any capacity? I can think of just two: Alvar Aalto (architect) and Lasse Virén (Olympic runner).

Finland’s keys to happiness are on an entirely different chain. When you flick through them you realize the Finns are focused on anything but wealth, power, and fame. Finland has an excellent healthcare system for both young and old. The same goes for their education options. A low crime rate. A strong culture of giving back to the community. And here’s a relatively new factor: Limits and safeguards on the amount of time young Finns spend on social media, so they’re encouraged to get out of the house. Go figure; a country well on the way to the Artic Circle has a thriving outdoor life.

In a nutshell, Finland is described as “the best place to lose your wallet” (because your wallet will likely be returned to you, contents intact). If only there was room in that same nutshell for America. Nine years ago the U.S. ranked fourteenth on the World Happiness Report. This year? Twenty-third. That’s right, we’re getting sadder by the year on this side of the pond, in no small part – according to the survey – because we’re ~~addicted~~ devoted to our electronic devices and social media. Or maybe we still haven’t learned the wealth-power-fame lesson.

Because you’re dying to know, Afghanistan came in 147th out of 147 on the World Happiness Report. You can probably blame years of “significant geopolitical conflict” for that. But the pattern in the top ten is where you should focus your attention. Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Iceland, and the Netherlands; all coming in right behind Finland. Easy geography tells you these six are close neighbors on the globe. Is there something in the water that makes them all so happy?

The U.S. better take a lesson from the Nordic nations. Happiness beckons, if we’re willing to use the right ingredients in the recipe. I’ve already conceded next year’s WHR trophy to Finland… again (completing a full decade of “happiest”), but maybe the U.S. should just work on getting back into the top twenty. And the pursuit of a higher ranking should start with looking at life as more than just a puff piece.

Some content sourced from the CNN Travel article, “A Nordic nation is the world’s happiest…”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Hold The Phone!

My wife and I live in the kind of neighborhood where we can just hop on our bikes and go for a ride, straight from the driveway. The streets are quiet and flat, giving us time for conversation and reflection. A bike was such a focal part of my childhood that it’s easy to go back to those long-ago days in my mind. But I was too young to remember the year (or years) my bike had training wheels. Whoever invented training wheels made a lot of money getting kids comfortable with “big bikes”. Come to think of it, you could say the same about landlines and smartphones.

Smartphones are a blessing as well as a curse, aren’t they? On the one hand they’re always “on” and always eager to provide the instant information we crave. On the other hand they seduce and consume us, to where our social life is more often with an electronic device than it is with other humans. I’m sure I could find plenty of studies explaining why the “ding” of a text creates a hankering to read the message immediately (no matter how unimportant).

There are a dozen reasons why my smartphone is my “go-to” but a dozen more where I should be saying, “go away”. I’ll never forget the time we saw Lady A in concert. A family of five sat in front of us, with three pre-teen girls giddy to get the live performance started. But when the concert finally began, they popped up their phones and recorded the entire show start to finish. Someone forgot to tell them to enjoy the moment.

Here’s another example. You’re at a restaurant enjoying dinner with your significant other, when another couple across the room catches your eye. They’re facing each other, their dinner plates untouched in front of them. Their heads are bent low as if in quiet conversation. But in fact, both are on their phones and not saying a word to each other. Someone forgot to tell them to enjoy the moment.

I’m grateful I was raised in a generation without smartphones. The memories I have of landlines are not only nostalgic but includ plenty of teaching moments for a child. In my early years (the ones with a single digit) I was never allowed to answer the phone. In fact, the only time I was allowed to even speak on the phone was when my mother would hand over the receiver and say “Here, talk to Grandma while I finish making dinner”.

When my parents deemed me old enough to answer the phone, I learned to answer formally (as in “Hello? Wilson Residence.”) because there was no such thing as Caller ID. I also learned how to engage in conversation, instead of just listening to the person on the other end of the line. Finally, I learned that everything comes at a cost, because eventually my father installed a separate landline for his five sons, and charged them for those hours-long calls to girlfriends and such.

Landlines may be few and far between these days but they’re making something of a comeback, at least for parents who see them as “training wheels”. Call me old-fashioned but a landline requires a person to a) Drop what they’re doing to answer the call, b) Have one-on-one conversation with no texts or emojis, c) Give the call their full attention (speakerphones aside), and most importantly d) Develop the communication skills a person needs in the “real world”.

I’m told there’s a resurgence of cell phones out there that do nothing more than allow for voice calls. They’re like a landline in your hand, without the temptations of texting, emailing, social media, and everything else that puts a voice call in last place. And they still give a child the option to dial Mom, Dad, or even 9-1-1 in an emergency. For those taking this approach to teach their kids how to get comfortable engaging in conversation (let alone speaking like an adult) I say “smart phone”. And “smart parents”.

Some content sourced from the CNN Health article, “Landline are ringing in homes again…”.

A Ringing Endorsement

This time of year the choices for sports on television are few and far between. Sure there’s a lot of basketball being played, but the football season wraps up on Sunday (Super Bowl LX), baseball doesn’t get underway until April, and unless you have the time and patience to watch golf you’re gonna channel surf without catching decent waves. But it’s also something of an illusion, because the Winter Olympic Games kick off tomorrow in Italy. You did know the Olympics are about to get underway, didn’t you?

The 25th edition of the Winter Games comes to your living room in the next two weeks, hosted in Milan, Cortina, and several towns in the surrounding Dolomite mountains. The natural venues of the region look spectacular, and no doubt the Italians will be worthy hosts to thousands of the world’s best athletes. We’ll be treated to sixteen different sporting competitions on snow and ice, from figure skating to bobsledding to ski jumping. Behind the scenes, you’ll get the usual inspirational stories, heartbreaking moments, and thrilling photo-finishes. I just hope you actually hear about any of it.

ESPN.com, where I get my daily dose of sports, includes a list of “Top Headlines” at the beginning of their home page. Today, less than forty-eight hours before the opening ceremonies, there is nothing about the Games. No updates on the American athletes, no projections on when or where the U.S. will be at its most competitive, no “primer” to get you ready to sit down and watch… nothing. You have to scroll way down, past NFL-this and NBA-that before you finally get to anything about what’s going on in Northern Italy. Heck, even the Westminster Dog Show rated more press than the Winter Olympics today (which always begs the question, “Is a dog show considered ‘sports'”?)

I’m glued to the coverage of the Olympics every time they come around (which is every two years, counting the Summer Games). Even with paid, professional athletes, the Olympics are the purest form of global sports competition we have left. The headlines – which will finally include the Olympics for the next two weeks – will speak more positive than negative, more jaw-dropping than ho-hum, with virtually no political undertones. How refreshing is that?

At least ESPN allots some space to the Games, however far down the page it may be. Have a look at any of the major news websites and you’ll be challenged to find similar coverage. Americans are too preoccupied with what’s going on in Washington, Wall Street, and the West Bank. It’s ironic that today’s lead news story is about the Olympics (though not really). Savannah Guthrie – one of the hosts of NBC’s television broadcast – pulled out to be with her family during the apparent abduction of her mother. My prayers are with her.

Since you’ll be hard-pressed to find a primer, here are a few tidbits about the upcoming Games. There are 232 athletes on the U.S. Olympic team, the largest in our history of participation. There are 25 venues for the competition – in four clusters across Northern Italy – making it the most geographically widespread Winter Olympics in history. And for the next eighteen days, you’ll be able to catch all of the action (at reasonable times) on some form of NBC broadcasting, whether streaming or live television. You’ll even get your fill of curling, easily the most misunderstood Olympic sport of them all.

The Olympic Games, as the broadcasters are sure to say over and over, “transcend sports”. The world records, the stories behind them, and the individuals who train tirelessly for these moments deserve our attention. Team USA’s flag bearers this year are speed skater Erin Jackson and bobsledder Frank Del Duca. Think about it – both of these athletes chose sports where their moment of glory (or defeat) starts and ends in a matter of minutes. They are everyday people whose best-in-class performances are brought to the world but once every four years.

Now go read all about it, or better yet… watch. Otherwise I’ll think you’re ignoring my ringing endorsement of the Winter Olympic Games.

Some content sourced from the NBC Olympics website, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.