Jersey’s for sale---cheap.

"I like slam dunks that take me to the hoop
My favorite play is the ally-oop
I like the pick-n-roll, I like the give-n-go
And it's basketball, Bow Wow, let's go." 

It seems like just yesterday when LeBron James made his epic quote, “I’m taking my talents to South Beach.”He did and it left a city well to the north wondering, “How could he do this?” It was a very good question. 

Move forward 4 years and suddenly the talents he took to South Beach have returned home; it took a lot of guts then, looks like they never left four years later.  The difference? We learned Cleveland is a very forgiving city! I am not sure Chicago would have responded the same way. 

Whereas I am probably not the only one who has been watching this situation unfold, it’s kind of amazing that he actually did it. I really used to wonder what the city of Cleveland was thinking when they said they would love to have him back on their team. It wasn’t like I didn’t believe their desire, it was more about the slim chance of it actually happening. I mean, come on, they were one of the worst teams in the NBA last year. Not as bad as other teams—Milwaukee and Philadelphia—but not much better---and they thought LeBron would come back? 

So why does this happen? How can one person, who can place a round ball inside of a hoop, receive this type of attention? He’s LeBron. 

But what real effect did this have on Cleveland and the basketball team that was left in the dust and then in one day rose from the darkness?  Okay, a bit extreme but you tell that to the city that burnt his jerseys, cursed his name, and slammed the door on his ever being welcome again. In two words…a billion dollars. Yes, today the franchise went from being valued at about $500 million to $1 Billion. 

When you multiply what’s about to happen in ticket, jersey and other related sales, what is a cheap jersey in one city, is now once again priceless in one far to the north.As a basketball fan, I could not be happier; I am not a fan of the Heat, but have always felt Cleveland, and its Cavaliers, were “acceptable” to root for---as long as they didn’t beat the Bulls. (That could change!) 

When I learned that Cleveland was in the running for the “King” to return, I sent an e-mail to a client who was, like the rest of her city, very disappointed, hurt and deeply upset, when his“ talents were taken to South Beach” in 2010. I contacted her again today and it certainly appeared “Christmas arrived in July.” I am sure they now realize the days of number 1 draft picks are behind them---I am sure they are willing to give those up. 

The photo above was taken in Milwaukee last year. “The King” was holding court and the Bucks were about to get trounced. Now a little more than a year later, the Heat has found out what it feels like when talents shift from one city to another. Enjoy the NBA draft next year South Beach...should be fun! 

Thanks for stopping by.  

Thanks Betsy and the rest of the gang.

"O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!"

For me, and most everyone, this is a very patriotic time of the year. Sure there's the obvious—the 4th of July—but it's more than just one day and a bunch of fireworks, parades and such. With blue skies in greater abundance,  summer finally here— more flags are gracing porches, store fronts and poles around the US. The red, white and blue are rich in color, flowing across the plaines, concrete kingdoms, and most important—-in the hearts of Americans all across the land. 

This is why I love this time of the year.

Sure, it doesn't hurt the weather is what we all pray for during the grey skies of winter in the Midwest, but there is something magical about seeing a huge flag in the distance expanded outward with ripples flowing through it. If you have trouble visualizing this, I suggest you step outside, take a walk or drive down your street, and come back to read "Snap.Shot." as it will then make much more sense to you.

For the last few days I have been in Kansas City, MO; this is by far one of my favorite towns I cover for business. It's a hidden gem. Even traveling through the airport is easy. You don't have to go through long lines and walk miles to the gate. You literally walk up to the gate, stand in line, and voila you're in. I assume they didn't get the memo about how travel is supposed to be a pain. 

While in KC, I was fortunate to see some of the largest, most beautiful, flags; I saw them on buildings, in windows and as noted in the photo above…in Union Station. Normally I don't discuss the photo until later, but this location reminded me of Grand Central Station in New York. Only difference…less people, clutter and chaos. It was like Old Glory just hung as the hero of the hall. From any angle, it took center stage. It was just beautiful. I believe every large building should have a gigantic flag on its wall.

While there, literally hundreds of children milled about waiting to go into a room and watch a movie about the history of Union Station. I watched…and noticed…not one of them even saw the flag was right above them. Part of me was happy to be able to spend time appreciating its presence one on one, but part of me was sad it was being ignored. The flag is the most important symbol of America…at least in my eyes. I am sure the Michael Jordan Statue outside the United Center would get some votes…not as I see it. 

The lyrics and photo above are very important to me. During the weekend after September 11, I was in Temple for the High Holidays; for the first time, the congregation sang, "America The Beautiful;" it lived up to the name…it was and is a beautiful song. For the first time I really read the lyrics—a real tribute to the land I am proud to call home. Like the lyrics, there is nothing more beautiful than Betsy Ross's work from so long ago, I am just happy it is so well displayed cross the land.

Thanks for stopping by.

When I’m 64.

"When I get older losing my hair

Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out till quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?

Life came into focus a while back; we were at a restaurant and when the menu was handed to me I opened it to learn, “I was eligible for senior pricing.” I smiled and said, “it’s about time!

We have many choices and paths to take in life, but when it comes to getting one year older every year, the options are fairly limited. Unless someone knows a way to stop the aging process—-without pills, knives or some other new fangled way to look younger—-I guess it beats dying. 

For some reason, and maybe it’s our generation, I struggle to see myself as old. This is not a ploy to get people to say, “you have not aged a day since I saw you last,” because if that’s the response, we must have seen each other yesterday and not years ago. We all get older and it is very obvious when you look at photos. Whether it’s grey hair, wrinkles, weight gain/loss, the only place I know age never changes—-takes place on Facebook. Everyone is young, looks great, and well—-the photos are likely old.

As an adult, and yes I am one, I have seen very important people in my life age; fortunately they have stayed around long enough for me to appreciate the extra time with them. Not like the World Cup where time is extended (still don’t get it) and then suddenly it’s over—-it’s been more about an extension of the ability to talk with parents, business associates, friends and more. This past weekend, and I have written about this before, I went to visit my Mom. In her ‘hood I saw familiar names—-a fraternity brother, friends of my parents, and of course my Mom, Aunt and Uncle. Since the first time visiting, I have become used to it. There’s really little change, perhaps a flower, additional stones on their head stone, and maybe a flag; in the end, if this is what it’s all about—-I guess they have good pot luck dinners when we’re not around. 

As we approach my very favorite holiday, it reminds me of some of the crazy things I did when I was growing up. I loved to shoot off firecrackers, bottle rockets and burn the occasional snake—-but the most memorable event was when the police officer came down our street. He asked all of us if we had any more fireworks in our home; only one of us said “Yes.” I assume you could feel my pride in admitting I was not a liar,  and I was going to give that guy every last one of those explosives that took every dime I had to buy. What more is there to say? I have grown up…now I would only give half of my stash!

The photo above is the most telling sign. If you examine it, you will see the mention of “Seniors 55 and older” dishes; is it worth letting them know you qualify? I did it and I am darn ok with it!

Thanks for stopping by

Welcome to the future.

“Hey, look around it's all so clear
Hey, wherever we would go and when we
Hey, so many things I never thought I'd see
Happening right in front of me."

For everyone of us, there will always be a future. For some it comes very fast, for others it seems to drag on before it arrives. Regardless, it will be here and will take the exact amount of time before it makes its presence. (That, readers of “Snap. Shot.,” was as heavy as it gets in my world.)

More than 30 years ago, I had yet to become a Dad. I was married, we lived in the suburbs, but the pattering of footsteps had yet to be heard in our home. That changed in June of 1984. Yes, the same 1984 that George Orwell wrote about and when we experienced Live Aid. (I was holding my son when Freddy Mercury was mesmerizing the thousands who were performing a sea of waves---I remember it like it was yesterday.)

During those initial days of crying, pooping, crying and not sleeping—-no not me, my son---it seemed the future was very far away and if this was life, mine had changed the moment he roared into this world.

Move forward 30 years and here we are. Changes have taken place—-the internet, lap top computers, cell phones are common place and the Jetson’s really did predict the future. Well, the flying cars have yet to make their presence, but I suspect one day we will see them. I guess.

This past weekend, I saw the future in the form of a little boy who has grown up and is now a man holding his own son. Where did the time go? I have no idea.

Recently I saw a poll that asked people to comment on what they would like to experience most. "Knowing the future" was one of the options. I don’t recall the most popular answer, but it was not "Knowing the future." I thought…are you kidding me? I would love to travel 10 minutes in time and boy would I be living the dream. Just 10 minutes and I could help change the world. Not gonna happen---I believe time travel has yet to be accomplished.

However, just for fun, if I could see the future, I would do my best to make people aware of a potential tragedy which might be coming in their new future, a suggestion to the Bulls about which opposing player was going to step up and make a big shot, and I would make sure I told my family how much I loved them before something happened to me. We all don’t live forever—-it’s not a bad idea to be able to say “Adios” when it’s time to check out.

The photo above was taken a few weeks ago at Arlington Park racetrack outside of Chicago. What the viewer doesn’t know, and perhaps I should not mention this, I was lying on the track as the horses roared by. I was not worried about being stepped on, but I guess I could have controlled the outcome of the race had I spooked a horse. Knowing the power of the future, and what it would be like getting the crap knocked out of me by gamblers at the track, I decided not to fool with the future and made sure I remained quiet. Sure would have been nice to pick the winner however!

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What a fool believes.

"But what a fool believes he sees

No wise man has the power to reason away
What seems to be
Is always better than nothing
And nothing at all keeps sending him..."

We all can be gullible at times. If it has never happened to you, I am sure I have made up for your abilities to read through the lines of not being duped. 

One of the best ways to make the most of these situation is to pull practical jokes. I have pulled them, had them pulled on me, and been involved when others pulled them on unsuspecting victims. Whereas they are funny, when done well, they can be very destructive as well. 

A few weeks ago, my associate and I took a walk during lunch. She is in much better shape than I am, is pregnant, and makes me look like the 20-plus years older I am than she is; she’s also very funny. As we were walking, we started discussing practical jokes. Whereas she is pretty good at them, based upon the stories she told, her husband deserves a major award for his actions. I mean, these are standing ovation situations.

One of my favorites was when they had hired contractors for work on their home, and as a practical joke, her husband called them (mind you these guys are working on THEIR home) and said they had run out of cash and were not going to be able to pay them. This is a very dangerous joke as you might imagine—-one that could come back to haunt them if not disclosed in time to thwart them walking off the job. I don’t know how he did it, but this went on for a rather extended period of time that day. If it were me, and I was pulling the joke, well….that would not have been one I would have pulled. In the end, all worked out, there was a good laugh and their house was featured in a magazine; in the world of practical jokes, that was gutsy.

She asked me about ones I had pulled and although it was nothing like what her husband had done, I did have a few to provide. One of my favorites has been pulled twice. It involved a business associate, a client, and a false eye. The first time occurred when one of my associates was bragging how this client, who is a friend of mine, would like her more. I usually shake these things off, but she was serious. I said, like a 12 year old, “whatever.”

Once I thought further about this, I started to think about how to get her back. 

I called the person she was going to be meeting with, and we devised a plan. After the plan was set, I approached her and said, “You know so and so has a glass eye, right and when he gets excited, it starts to click?” She didn’t believe it for a second. (ding, ding.) I said, like a 12 year old, “whatever.”

When she went to the meeting—-sure enough my contact was wearing glasses—-and as the meeting started, and they got into talking, the clicking started. All of the sudden, his eye popped out. (It was a marble I had sent to him that was the size of an eyeball that rolled on to the table.) She screamed when this happened and he truly had trouble containing himself. Recently I did the joke again, but did not take it to the level I had a few years ago. Before she went to the meeting, and after she had called me and apologized for not believing me, I knew I had to stop it  before the meeting. She still is untrusting of me several months later…wonder why?

The photo above was taken at my daughter’s 5th grade party. I had rented a “fish-eye” lens and was having a lot of fun with it. The photos of the kids (and some adults) were really unflattering; I knew if I put them up on social media sites I would probably get in a lot of trouble. For some reason, placing my photo up was ok—-for me, playing the fool can sometimes be the best journey to take in life, not matter what you believe. 

Thanks for stopping by.

Memories of another day.

"She was like, oh my God, this is my song
I've been listenin' to the radio all night long
Sittin' 'round waitin' for it to come on and here it is
She was like, come here boy, I wanna dance
'Fore I said a word, she was takin' my hand
Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out.

This weekend I was back in my hometown of St. Louis, MO. Well, actually Chesterfield a Western suburb; a suburb that has gone from Podunk to pretty darn large as far as population in the area. My son told me Chesterfield is now the second largest community in the St. Louis area. Hard to believe only 45 years ago I literally learned that "chickens do run around with their heads cut off" as I watched a farmer dismember their heads waiting for the bus to go to school.

Certainly one of the best things about coming home, is the unexpected look of seeing people you know, or think you know, and when you learn you do, having a long lost conversation with them. The "six degrees of separation" sometimes are just amazing. We've all had them, and that's what life is truly all about.

Yesterday, as I was catching up on some e-mails at the St. Louis Bread Company (known as Panera outside St. Louis) I saw someone I knew; we started to catch up, she made a comment that someone knew me, and suddenly someone broke into the conversation letting me know that individual (who knew me) was his brother in law. Nearly two hours later, I looked at my watch, knowing I needed to get back to see my Dad who would likely be waking up from a long sleep. (He sleeps a lot.) Oh by the way, yes I still wear a watch!

I learned that his brother in law, I was aware of the story but kept listening, had re-married someone we used to hang around with so many years ago. She was divorced, he was as well, and there you have it--they just got married. Fate has a weird way of finding its way back into life. If that's not weird enough, the woman has a twin, and one of my fraternity brothers now dates her twin sister. Not crazy enough for you? The woman my friend married, she and I went on a date together back in the 70s---my first concert, the Beach Boys and Chicago. She doesn't remember it I am sure, but I do.

There are many memories that come forward when I cross the Missouri state line. I was commenting to my Dad that when I drive to his house, from Chicago, it's like a road map has been laid out before me and I am on auto pilot for all 300+ miles. I know the stops, the scenery where I have taken photos along the way---mile marker 212 on Highway 55 has a barn that has now given way to the pressures of ridiculous weather---and then suddenly I pull into his driveway.

When I walk into the house where I was raised, I see photos galore; my Mom, brother and sister, my kids, nieces, nephews, and so many more. I am very thankful my Dad saw the benefits in taking pictures---whereas he never was bitten by the bug---he knew their importance.

Thanks Dad.

The photo above is of my Grandson Brandon. When I mentioned to my son I was wanting to take a few pictures, he paused. I knew where this was going. He said, "Just a few Dad...we have plenty." Saying you have plenty of photos to a photographer is like telling someone who has been sitting all day waiting for a song to come on the air that they've heard it enough---it's an addiction. One that I have---and for me these photos will provide those long lost images many years from now of memories of another day.

Thanks for stopping by.

The next generation.

"Large hands lift him through the air
Excited eyes contain him there
The eyes of those he loves and knows."

It seems like yesterday when my Father became a Grandfather. It was not yesterday, it was more like 35 years ago as a matter of fact. Last month, on February 4th, I followed in my Father's footsteps as my son (and his wife) made me a Grandfather. He also made his Mom a Grandmother---I still feel too young to wear the moniker, but I also know when he was born, I was almost four years younger than he is today when he came into this world. 

For anyone who feels being a grandparent is going to be a wake up call about life---it is. It's one of the best calls you will likely receive. 

Brandon Todd will be one month old on Tuesday; what has always amused me, is in the first 700+ days life, a baby's time is accumulated in the number of months that have passed. At that magical moment, after he/she turns two, the months drop and the years start to take over. Is two far away at this moment? Of course it is; until one day, suddenly, he's 5 and then 8 and then...you get it. My son turned 29 in a matter of a few years---like any parent I ask, "Where did the time go?" 

One of the best moments of my first weekend with Brandon was watching this new family bond. It's very apparent there is a lot of love between the three of them---babies do that to families. They change the course from two people living together to one of a family unit. It's not the first time this has happened, but as a first-time Grandfather, it is. That kid is one lucky little boy.

If you have read "Snap.Shot." for any period of time, you know I am very passionate about photography. Okay, more like obsessive, sue me. When I knew we were going to meet Brandon, I wanted to make sure we had the trusty Nikon with us to capture a photo I really wanted taken. It was one that will last forever, because one day it will be all that's left of this moment. It's not something I am looking forward to, but it's called life. 

My wife took a photo of the 4 generations of our family. Sure, we would have taken it if Brandon was a girl, but something about 4 male members---when we tend to be very heavy on females---captured the moment I am so anxious to give to my Dad. When a girl is born in the family I will be saying the same thing. In a future "Snap.Shot." it will be the featured photo.

But for now...

The photo above was taken the first day we met Brandon. My daughter Audrey is holding her nephew; whereas there are some mothers who might be concerned about a child holding a new born baby, Lauren had no qualms about both of our younger daughters doing it (or me.) My wife was never a thought---she has a lot of experience holding babies. The two girls had talked for weeks about how they were so excited to meet and hold their new nephew---for all three of them, they will be growing up together as there are really not that many years between them. 

Thanks for stopping by.