Be Water

 

“Don’t get set into one form, adapt it and build your own, and let it grow, be like water. Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless — like water. Now you put water in a cup, it becomes the cup; You put water into a bottle it becomes the bottle; You put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.” – Bruce Lee 

I was honored to be asked to speak to a group based in Tampa, Florida called Career Rebound. Okay, honored (as I am) my brother is an active leader and member of this group. As speaker, my brother wanted to know how I was able to rebound so effectively in my career journey. Notably, how I managed to work for 12 top flight advertising agencies. He gives me a lot of credit and that is a wonderful thing about people around you. It is easy to take for granted the remarkable support you have among family, friends and associates. There are no words to fully express what it means (sometimes even when it is too late).

So I started building a PowerPoint presentation that will satisfy this virtual speaking engagement. Suddenly I realize that indeed my career has taken quite a few turns.  In retrospect, I focus on the high points and the achievements. However, I am fully aware of sadness and disappointment too. I consider myself very lucky. I consider myself blessed even. They say that God has a plan. But (he/she/they)  demonstrates no obligation to share that plan with me.

I grew up attending a Catholic School (Grades 1-8). The nuns reinforced the notion that there is a sort of reckoning after this life on Earth. I hope so. I am really counting on being with so many wonderful folks who were so important and influential in my life.

 “Mathew, Mark, Luke and John; bless this bed I lie upon. If I should die before I wake, I pray dear Lord my soul to take.”  This bedtime prayer was sort of routine growing up. Now, I’m hoping those saints have the clout I’m gonna need in the afterlife.

But I digress. I consider myself a certifiable rebounder. My life and career has included great heights (full of joy and celebration) and great lows (full of sadness, regret and setbacks). Still, I am inspired by a sense of Mindfulness, I try to live in the moment. I am water.

Images: The Great Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai (above) and iPhone image of my shadow inside a James Turell installation in Saint Louis Spring 2021 

Credits: Special Thanks to Greg Morgan and Wendy Leigh of Career Rebound. 

And, Oh yeah it's my birthday and I'm feeling a bit reflective. 

Lindsey's Sweet Eulogy

 

When I close my eyes and think about my mom I see her sitting outside our house in St. Louis, sunglasses on, hair held back by a bandanna, eyes closed and face toward the sun.

I close them again and I see her standing on the tennis courts at Raleigh Racquet Club, racquet bag on her shoulder, chains around her neck catching the glimmer of the sun.

Just one more time I close my eyes, perhaps a glutton attempting to recall a long-forgotten story or memory, and I see her hands filled with tomatoes or peppers, maybe even raspberries after a quick trip to the garden to asses the growth, harvesting products of a partnership between the earth, the rain and the sun.

The images are fairly consistent. My mom was pretty consistent. She was consistent in her day, waking before the sun, working, grocery shopping, home in time for General Hospital and to prepare a bite for dinner before turning in, often times before we were even home from work. She was consistent in her styling, when she and my dad met, tennis whites day and night and as her focus shifted to raising us, always function over fashion, tshirts and hoodies, leggings and headbands, sweaters or a sheer overlay if the occasion arose. She was consistent in sharing her love, verbally with a “love you schnuckie” or on social media with a big red heart or the words “my whole heart,” mailed baked goods and tchotchkes carefully wrapped and sometimes a new bill or two from “her friend at the bank” addressed to the littlest loves who completely stole her heart.

Beyond what I can see when I close my eyes and what we all could expect—my mom could be heard (without fail) before she entered a room, a home, heck—the beach club. When she had an opinion, it was known—she often spoke before she thought—and as the equally stubborn daughter of a fiercely opinionated mother, not only was I on the receiving end of countless unfiltered comments, I was the beneficiary of her advocacy more times than I could count. I’m sure we all have a story, mine happens to have been in the Kleinfeld’s Bridal Salon—when I came out in a gorgeous lace dress and her first comment was “uch, you’re not going to get married in that...” In the moment, I was crushed, but looking back, I now know she was leading with her heart, it just took me until I was a mom myself to understand this unbridled desire to do or say anything that (in her eyes) was to protect her kids. My mom taught me how to use my voice, how to direct my voice and while most of the time our opinions were not in alignment—I find so much comfort in understanding now that her intent was never intended to hurt, she was always looking out for our best interest.

My mom lived her life to make the lives of others easier. Nothing she ever did was solely for her own benefit. It didn’t matter how many times we encouraged her to do for herself, making time even for a haircut or a night out took a back seat to cheering at Ben’s football games or baking for a loved ones birthday, holiday or celebration. She was well into her 50s before I remember her ever getting her nails done. Her mind held an almost encyclopedic catalog of events. It was rare anything slipped though a crack—and if it did, she was certain to over-correct to prevent any such lapse in care. I remember one such morning, my sophomore year in college…I was in Charlotte, North Carolina and a frantic call from Dad in St. Louis (a call I would not have been awake for—had there not been an hour time change) stating Ben was ready to go to school…but mom had forgotten to pack his lunch. In my revisionist history, packing Ben’s lunch was not an overly complex task—a bagel with cream cheese, peanut butter crackers, pringles, a string cheese, maybe some fruit snacks? But, alas, she hadn’t packed it the night before and there dad was scrambling in the kitchen to get something in a brown bag. The next morning…and for many mornings to come…there was not one brown bag on the top shelf of the fridge, but two…one behind the other, just to make sure school lunch was never a reality.

These truths didn’t just extend to her family—for someone so stubbornly convinced that St. Louis would never be home, she collected loyal friends and fans, people who would go out of their way and pass 4 other coffee shops to grab their drink from Lynn, who’d have already started their “usual” as their car pulled in to the parking lot. My mom wasn’t just our biggest fan, she became our friends biggest fans too. In the stands her voice did just cheer for us, she cheered for all of our friends. On Friday nights, she wasn’t just worried about us, she was worried about all of our friends. As we aged that cheering turned to asking about our friends jobs and families and ‘Mama Mo’ genuinely wanted to know. There were so many instances of these acts, but just This week, a friend shared a memory I hadn’t before known. One of my former “kids,” a young adult she had met maybe once or twice before, was on a weeks-long bus tour with a performance group…on their stop in St. Louis (a show my dad attended, but I believe was past Lynn’s bedtime) my mom navigated their theater location, found their bus and delivered fresh baked goods to these guys weeks into their tour and with many weeks to go before returning to their own moms and home cooked sweets. It’s just who she was—if it was important to us, it became important to her.

My parents love was not the simple and easy kind of love. It was the hard and genuine love, the love worth working for—because the love always outweighed the hard. Ben and I are so incredibly lucky to have learned this truth of about love—that when it really matters, it is worth working for. Growing up, there was a copy of The Night Before Christmas in our home, a simple and careful inscription reading something to the effect “Wes, one day your children will enjoy this more than mine will. Always, Lynn” 42 years later, not only have their children enjoyed that book together—but their grandchildren will learn from the careful and intentional balance and partnership we should all be lucky to have in our lives. As Lawton asked just a few nights ago, “Mommy, how long are we going to be sad?” I could onlyI reply honestly—we’re going to be sad for a while…and we are also going to be really, really happy. It’s okay to hold those truths concurrently and mom would want the moments of joy, at scoring a soccer goal, tasting a banana chocolate chip muffin or hearing just the right song on the radio to make us smile. We are all going to miss getting Grandma’s treats in the mail…but when we try our very best to recreate that recipe, make the matzah ball soup, or write a letter every SINGLE day to sleep away camp, we know it will hold her spirit and continue to bring soothing to this still-fresh shock and sustained comfort as we all continue to grow. May THIS be Gods will.

It isn't possible to upstage Grandma Toby on such occassions but Lindsey really delivered this eulogy with grace and style. The photo above is of of the Morgan support team who showed up in Ocean, NJ for Lynn's funeral. (clockwise from left: Matt Morgan, Wesley A Morgan, Chris Dewey, Rob Morgan, Greg Morgan, Wes Morgan, Allison, Ben and Yadi around the remarkable Lindsey)

Howard Rockett

 

Howard George Rockett (Born 1937-Died 2018) Pinehurst
Howard George Rockett passed away on September 19, 2018 in Southern Pines. Howard was born on September 23, 1937 in Philadelphia, PA and was educated at The Episcopal Academy and The University of Pennsylvania. Howard excelled at many things including music, sports and business. In college, he played soccer and was an All-Ivy League striker and one of the league's top scorers. After college, he played semi-professional soccer in Philadelphia for the Uhrik Truckers. In his 30s, Howard began playing golf and was a scratch golfer within a few short years. Musically, Howard was a masterful piano player and played with several bands including the Royal Carolina Dixieland Jazz Band and a local group called The Salty Dogs. Throughout his life, his love for music and golf was contagious and he shared those gifts with everyone lucky enough to have known him. Howard was also active in the community of Alcoholics Anonymous and helped thousands of people recover from the disease.

Along with these passions, Howard was a gifted entrepreneur and incredibly successful in business, working in the advertising industry his entire career. He was a founding partner of McKinney, Silver & Rockett, which grew to become one of the most successful advertising agencies outside of New York. Howard's work at the Agency included Piedmont Airlines, Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines, NationsBank, and North Carolina Tourism. He sold his interest in the Agency in 1983, but his 'retirement' was short-lived. In 1985, Howard founded another incredibly successful Agency which began as Rockett & Burkhead and became better known as RBW Advertising. RBW grew rapidly, and in less than ten years was the largest independently owned marketing agency in the South, working with clients GlaxoSmithKline, Carolina Hurricanes, Golden Corral, Rich-SeaPak, Quintiles, IBM, Volvo Trucks, Campbell Soup, Dollar Tree, CORT Furniture Rental, Marvel Entertainment, Eaton Corporation, and many scores of smaller companies.

Howard was known internationally as a strategic creative person with expertise in positioning, branding and differentiation discovery. He has been recognized in scores of branding and communications reviews worldwide, including the One Show in New York and the International Awards Festival in London. One of the best examples of his work was the GlaxoSmithKline corporate communications positioning "On the Brink of Discovery" in 1996, along with the resulting global communications advertising and marketing executions. This program was widely credited with changing the strategic communications direction of the entire pharmaceutical industry from manufacturing/product to research/discovery. In April 2000, Howard was inducted into the Communications Hall of Fame at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill.

In 1994, Howard married Michele Sleva and together they shared a life full of love. They shared many beautiful memories splitting their time between their homes at The Country Club of North Carolina in Pinehurst and their home in Marathon in the Florida Keys. Howard was a fourth-degree member of the Knights of Columbus and was a member of the St. Anthony Catholic Church in Southern Pines, NC.

Howard will be missed greatly. He is survived by his wife Michele (and their three loving dogs), his four children, Kimberly Rockett Stewart, Dr. Alyson Rockett, Scott Howard Rockett (and his wife Carol), and Mark George Rockett (and his wife Genevieve). Howard also leaves behind the mother of his children, Janice Peltz Rockett, and eight loving grandchildren, Kim's daughter Rebecca Stewart, Alyson's children Alec and Olivia Brown, Scott's children Anna and Scotty, and Mark's children Madi, George and Kyle.

There will be a visitation Sunday, September 23rd from 4:00 to 6:00 PM at the Boles Funeral Home located at 425 West Pennsylvania Avenue in Southern Pines, NC.

Funeral Mass will be held Monday, September 24th at 10:00 AM at the St. Anthony of Padua Catholic Church located at 160 East Vermont Avenue in Southern Pines, NC. Immediately following the funeral, there will be an internment service at the gravesite in the church's cemetery.

Following the service, beginning at Noon, there will be a reception at The Country Club of North Carolina located at 1600 Morganton Road in Pinehurst, NC. Memorial donations can be made to Knights of Columbus Fourth Degree Assembly 2069, P.O. Box 1492, Southern Pines, NC, 28388. Online condolences may be made at www.bolesfuneral  Boles Funeral Home of Southern Pines is serving the family.

Published by The News and Observer on Sep. 23, 2018.

Happy Birthday Tara

 

Tara, they say things get better with age. You are no exception. Happy Birthday.

Thank you Parker. You flooded my memory...

 

 

Thank You Parker Millsap  - You Flooded my Memory and Quenched My Soul at Delmar Hall March 3, 2022. 

Delmar Hall opened in 2016 and has quickly solidified its place as the premier mid-level venue located next to The Pageant in St. Louis. The venue accommodates from 350 up to 750 music enthusiasts. 

They say that God has a plan. Sadly, I didn’t get to see the part where my wife, going on 42 years together, pre-deceases me. She left us peacefully in her sleep one month ago with no indication of sickness. She was full of life and coming into her own as a grandmother. She was so easy to be with and so committed to being kind to everyone she encountered in life. My family and close friends have been so supportive. My brother Rob flew into Saint Louis from Northern California to see John Paul White with special guest Parker Millsap at Delmar Hall in University City.   

I was losing, I was lost, cursing everything that I come across
I was wounded, I was weak, I didn’t realize I needed a drink of your water. Your water - It floods my memory and it quenches my soul

I heard this song with a new perspective, a little sadness and it brought tears to my eyes as Rob and I watched Parker sing it with his remarkable voice and stage presence. Later the headliner, also performing as a solo act, brought a kind of dark humor to the stage. John Paul White tells the audience that he is just getting to know Parker but he wants to know him better, adding a bit of sarcasm saying that Parker is breaking the rules because the opening act is “supposed to suck.”

Rob's daughter Meg is Parker's wife. When Rob asked her if a Parker song is about her she routinely says: "They're all about me." I love that. 

Rob and I ate at the Three Kings on Delmar and admired the stars on the walk of fame and visited the Chuck Berry statue and Blueberry Hill. Parker joined us after the show at the rooftop bar of the Moonrise Hotel. Being stoic and with the commitment to carry on without saying much it was a kind of perfect condolence call. Thank you Rob. Thank you Parker. 

If you were eavesdropping you might have picked up a theme in the conversations but probably not: Birdwatching, Baseball, Art, Being a Philistine, Spanish Wells, Key Biscayne, Costa Rica, Oklahoma, Tennessee, Affluent, knowledgeable, Winning in golf, New Orleans, Chicago, Cleveland, Columbus, Lakewood, Meg, Joy, Camile, Sports Trivia.Chuck Berry, Ida Red. 

"Ida Red" is an American traditional song of unknown origins that was made famous in the upbeat 1938 version by Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys, Wills' Ida Red served as the primary inspiration for Chuck Berry's first big hit Maybellene. Below: Chuck Berry statue in U-City accross the street from Blueberry Hill.

 

 

When Lynnie's Happy, I'm Happy...

 

Ice Cold

Thursday February 3, 2022 was a stay-at-home day in Saint Louis. It was seven degrees outside our Creve Coeur apartment. I was expected to teach special education classes remotely. Lynn cleared with her employers at Garbanzo Mediterranean Fresh and Colleen’s Cookies. The weather, staffing issues and Covid-19 would mean no work on this icy Thursday. Ice was everywhere and blanketed by snow. Plows only made parking lots and streets marginally passible. It didn’t surprise me that Lynn didn’t get out of bed. Even as I peaked into our room she seemed to be getting much needed rest. I checked more carefully by mid-afternoon. I touched her leg. She was ice cold. The shadow over her face was a purple hue. The 9-1-1 voice instructed me to get her to lie flat and do chest compressions until the response team from Police and EMT could arrive.

I went through the first three stages of grief in about sixty seconds. “This cannot be happening” (Denial). “Come on Lynn, you gotta get up” (Anger). “Please God, give us a miracle recovery…” (Bargaining).

“I’m sorry for your loss.” What? “She’s gone.” The horrible news is delivered. I am stunned. Now they want to know if there is anyone they can call for me. They want to know if I needed a priest or a rabbi or clergy. Shaare Emeth is just down the street on Ballas. The Canter Seth Warner was in the neighborhood and arrived quickly. I was pacing and in a fog. Canter Warner says, “I’m here to support you and I am not leaving until you SIT DOWN.” It was some minutes before I could sit down. Lynn’s cell phone rings and it is my wonderful mother-in-law. (Lynn had been preparing biscotti and treats for her mom’s 91^st birthday in 11 days - Saint Valentine’s Day Feb 14). I picked up the phone and knew I had to break this news to her. She was the first person in our family network to know. Toby was moved to tears but her strong character prevailed. She immediately offered a final resting place at Temple Beth Miriam Cemetery next to Lynn's beloved father Dr. Samuel Stevens.

Bopp Funeral Chapel was called to handle the body in Saint Louis and arrange to fly my wife to New Jersey. Toby was on the case for funeral service arrangements at Bloomfield-Cooper Chapel. Meanwhile Canter Seth Warner invited me to a youth service at Shaare Emeth on Friday Night in Saint Louis. Lynn Morgan was honored with mentions at the beginning and end of the service. Our kids (Lindsey and Ben) were able to use Zoom to view the service.  I was there live. Shabat Shalom.

Fire + Ice

Some say the world will end in fire

Some say in ice

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire

But if it had to perish twice

I think I know enough of hate

To say that for destruction ice is also great

and would suffice.

Upon hearing of Lynn’s passing my brother and his wife drove from Cleveland to St. Louis (about 650 miles) to be with me on Saturday night. Dan and Annette arrived after 7:00 pm at which time we settled by the comfort of the fireplace at the Cheshire Inn lobby. It was here in the cozy old English tutor surroundings that we appreciated the warmth of the fireplace. Dan and Netti and I agreed stay on that setting and ordered food from the hotel restaurant. We had our picture taken with a cell phone in front of three Andy Warhol silk screen portraits of Queen Elizabeth. She has been Queen since 1952 – 70 years. I noted later that it was 1952 when the Queen of our family Toby (a.k.a.TR and Toto) married Dr. Samuel Stevens.

Dan and Netti invited me to join them on Sunday at the Cathedral Basilica for mass at 10:00 a.m. This was a mass celebrating the consecrated life with the Archbishop of Saint Louis Mitchell T Rozanski.

After mass, I tricked Dan and Netti into following my car to breakfast at Art Hill and the Saint Louis Art Museum. Here the snow and ice was perfect for sledding Saint Louisans.

Fire and Ice by Robert Frost. 

Lynn with her mother (the matriarch, Toby Stevens) and her sisters Debra and Randy in November 2021

Lambert Airport to Newark Liberty International

The Intrepid, The Met and The Great Lawn in Central Park with Ben

I got the VIP treatment. Flight arrangements on United Express with and a Group A boarding pass. I had a window seat number 3 on the plane this Wednesday morning, February 9, 2022. My son Ben confirmed that I would be at Gate A Baggage Claim. Ben suggests that a quick trip to New York City and a museum might be do-able. I loved that idea. We settle on The Met as our destination. Traveling in his BMW comfortably, in spite of traffic, it is a thrill to see Skyscraper National Park again and pass midtown to the upper west side and the Intrepid Sea Air and Space Museum on the pier and make our way past his old neighborhood on Amsterdam Avenue. He artfully pulls into a parking garage on 83^rd Street and we walk enthusiastically a couple of short blocks to the Met, climb the steps to the doors that clearly spell out that the museum is closed on Wednesday. No worries, we admire a sculpture, Unidentified Object 1979, by Isamu Noguchi (1904–1988) one of the twentieth century’s most important and critically acclaimed sculptors. We walked to the Great Lawn in Central Park where I was able to confirm Ben and Allison (and James) address to Sayed’s wife. Sayed, the owner of the Garbanzo Mediterranean Fresh and one of Lynn’s employers wanted to send flowers. “She was one of the restaurant’s best employees” his wife offered. That little side trip was such a joy.

The VIP treatment continued at 28 Dorset, Ocean, NJ compound and Ben and Allison opened their house to cousins, kids, and soon a contingent of Morgans (My brother Greg and his boys, Wes and Matt and my youngest brother Rob). James came home from school to a variety of play and eventually dinner that included Ben’s special Mac and Cheese. My daughter Lindsey, her husband Chris and their remarkable 5 ½ year old Lawton would be my ride to dinner at the Deal Lake Bar + Co. The Morgan posse joined us so that we could monopolize the table. Uncle Greg was quick to pick up the check that included three orders of Deep Fried Oreos. A rented SUV with Five Morgans driven by Uber Greg was my shuttle back to 28 Dorset before they headed back to their hotel.

The moveable-feast continued on Thursday as more family descended on the compound at 28 Dorset in anticipation of services at Bloomfield-Cooper Chapel and Internment beginning at 11 a.m. the next day, Friday February 11, 2022.

"

Note: "When Lynnie's Happy I'm Happy. When Lynnie's Mad...I'm Scared." is a quote from David P. Drimer when he shared a rented house with Lynn Stevens and Rickie Rose in Miami. I loved that quote and the memory of a time before we were married. Married in 1980, we shared a lot. I know I was happy most of the time during our marriage which was going on 42 years. Now. she is buried next to her father in Neptune, NJ, Dr. Samuel Stevens who died in August of 1993. (She lit a yahrzeit candle in his memory every August since). 

I cannot say enough about the overwhelming love and support I feel from our kids (Lindsey and Ben) and their respective spouses and, of course, the generation of Lawton and James)

Perrenial AMA

 

The Saint Louis Chapter of the American Marketing Association agreed to celebrate our shared committment to the study and practice of Marketing at Perrennial on Lockwood in Webster Groves this year. This was a small but mighty collection of individuals.  

Brandon Towl is a principal at Words Have Impact (WHI) and he enjoys the challenge of taking technical topics and making them more interesting. Brandon has a PhD in Neuroscience and a Washington University professor. He finds himself enjoying appetizers with American Marketing Association Chapter President Nick Niehaus and Webster University Marketing professor Eric Rhiney and Ben Muehleisen from AMA Board. The dialog ranging from course evaluations, 360 assessment of educators, and the unique challenges of engaging students from China (in person or via Zoom). Jim Varney is a lifelong resident of Webster Groves and printing expert who reflects on a career of marketing communications with Dave Cox of Sandbox Creative over appetizers and a craft brew at my table. Mark Denk describes his career evolution from ad-man to Insurance broker with New York Life.                              
Our group is treated to the eclectic sounds of the three member Benbow City Shuffle of which our AMA chapter treasurer, Dave Shogren, is a member. He and band mates Rich and Al treated us to music selections from seasonal to classic holiday tunes. Jingle Bells, Silent Night, Thelonius Monk and more. Dave is on base and his wife Linda looks on as treasurer Dave provides vocals to Deep Ellum Blues.

If you go down to Deep Ellum, put your money in your shoes
The women in Deep Ellem, they give you the Deep Ellum blues
Oh, sweet mama, your daddy's got them Deep Ellum blues

The gathering was a pleasant holiday social event and a perfect way to consider the coming new year 2022 as I reflected on my own perrenial membership in this association for more than 25 years.

Thelonious Sphere Monk (1917-1982) - American jazz pianist and composer. He had a unique improvisational style and made numerous contributions to the standard jazz repertoire. A quote from Monk was posted on my door when I was an account manager at an advertising firm in Raleigh, NC. "The only cats worth anything are the cats who take chances."