Hoy’s May page views: two million and counting!

We did it.

Early this afternoon, after returning from my Spanish class at the Instituto Cervantes, I checked our monthly web traffic through our in-house system.

We had just passed the 2-million page view mark.

Just to give a bit of context, last year at this time, we at Hoy-I used the term advisedly since I just became part of “we” a couple of months ago-used to average about 300,000 page views a month.

Earlier in May, in the three days after Osama Bin Laden was killed, we set traffic records and passed the 1-million page view mark for the most recent 30 days.

This was unprecedented, and we just kept building.

Aided by a strong response to the Nuestra Belleza Latina finale, we pushed through to a new barrier.

Today, we reached it.

Of course, volume has little, if anything, to do with quality.

We know that we have plenty of room to improve.

We know we have to keep our eyes on the print product.

I personally still have tons to learn in order to write a grammatically accurate sentence in the language in which I am working.

As a group, we’ve only just started to unearth our capabilities.

We know all this.

And yet it’s awfully exciting to be part of a team that is experimenting, that is innovating, that is embracing the Web, and that is seeing results.

We’ve got a real long way to go, sure.

And hitting that 2-million page view mark felt down-deep good, even if we all marked it and kept right on working.

Si, se puede.

 

Happy 77th Birthday, Ed Lowenstein

My father, Ed Lowenstein, turns 77 years old today.

I wrote about Dad’s birthday two years ago, when he reached three-quarters of a century.

A lot has happened since then, with the biggest change being the death of his beloved wife, Diane, last July.

This was a major blow.

Dad and Diane spent close to a quarter century together. During that time, he not only experienced joy he had previously thought inconceivable, he became a better husband, father and man.

In the 11 months since then, Dad has begun a new phase of his life, one in which he has had to confront one of  life’s most basic questions: what do I want to do with the time I have on the planet?

Although fundamental, this is not an easy question to answer. In Dad’s case, forging a working understanding has been complicated by the reality that he had, for more than six decades, had precise goals and objectives he had identified.  In addition to dealing with the loss of his soul mate,  he found himself in the decidedly uncertain position of being what, if anything, he wants to do.

Nevertheless, he has carried on with dignity, strength and grace.

Dad grieved openly in the first weeks and months after Diane’s death, and, while that pain has certainly not disappeared, he has gradually seemed to achieve a greater degree of equilibrium.  He has traveled widely, spending time with each of the three of us, Dunreith, Aidan and Annie, Mike’s fiance, and a wide range of friends in locations from Massachusetts to Hawaii.

He has continued to participate in the groups to which he belongs, attended concerts, eaten at restaurants and exercised to the degree his ailing back has permitted him.

He’s also worked to define a new sense of purpose.

I don’t know if he’s arrived there yet, but I do know that I respect and admire how Dad has taken what he learned from Diane about relationships, about emotional connection and about generosity and continued to live from that place.  He has been open about his pain and his struggle, all the while moving forward and facing his days with openness and strength.

In short, he’s lived this latest year, perhaps one of the most difficult of his life, with heart and with the fullness of what life offers and takes.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  I hope this next year brings the continued easing of your pain and the joy you so richly deserve.

 

Deepak Chopra and The Soul of Leadership

This morning, I did something I haven’t done for a couple of months: read a book in English.

Between getting started at Hoy and focusing closely on learning to read and write in Spanish, I’ve not kept up with my English reading.

Fortunately, that ended today, with Deepak Chopra’s The Soul of Leadership being my book of choice.  Mom ordered the book, sent it on Amazon and it arrived yesterday.

I don’t know if you are familiar with the enormously prolific Chopra-according to the dust jacket on this, he at 55 books in 35 languages and counting-but I’ve read a couple of his others, being less than wowed by his New Age-influenced philosophy.

Tiki Barber’s Unfortunate Anne Frank Comparison.

Oh, brother.

That’s about the nicest and most restrained thing I can say about once and possibly future NFL running back Tiki Barber.

In this week’s Sports Illustrated, he offered up this gem, according to an ESPN article:

At one point in the article, Barber describes going into hiding with his girlfriend after his well-publicized breakup with his then-pregnant wife. Barber and his girlfriend ended up in the attic of the home of the player’s agent, Mark Lepselter.

“Lep’s Jewish,” Barber told Sports Illustrated. “And it was like a reverse Anne Frank thing.”

Let’s see.

Hiding from your pregnant because you left her for an intern is the reversal of a Jewish girl and her family hiding from the Nazis for two years, never knowing that what ultimately did happen-she was betrayed and killed in the Bergen-Belsen camp-would come to pass.

It could just be me, but I don’t get it.

Don’t get me wrong.

We all make mistakes, although the ESPN piece includes a quote from the aforementioned Jewish lawyer to the effect that Barber was a guest of the Israeli government five years ago-the implication there being that thus there is no possible way that anyone could have taken offense to his statement.

Athletes living under the microscope misspeak all the time, as we saw this week with Joakim Noah’s homophobic outburst and Kobe Bryant’s similar epithet several weeks ago.

Athletes aren’t role models (Thanks for that, Charles Barkley, circa early 1990s).

Blah, blah, blah.

At times, I wonder if the trivialization of the Holocaust will ultimately do more to erode its meaning than anything the deniers could ever hope to accomplish.

As readers of this space know, since we’ve started as a community, I’ve written about Obama being compared to Hitler, Arizona’s SB 1070 being compared to Nazi Germany, and a Congressional candidate from Ohio defending his going into the woods dressed as a member of the Waffen SS because they didn’t actually carry out atrocities.

Now this.

An athlete’s unfortunate comparison does not rank up there with, say, the capture today of Ratko Mladic, the Serbian genocide architect, whose actions at Srebenica form another in the long line of human atrocities.

But words do matter, and I do hope that Barber uses his damaged, but still influential persona, in better ways in the future.

Aidan’s last day of high school.

I can barely believe what I am typing, and today is Aidan’s last day of high school.

I drove him there, just as I did to Wolf Swamp Elementary School 11 years ago for his first day of first grade.

Then, as now, he wore shorts.

Then, as now, he ate yogurt for breakfast.

There, as now, we chatted about how he was feeling.

The similarities end there, though.

Whereas he was then a fresh-faced young boy eager and a little scared for his first day at a new school, now he’s  a young man with the muscular calves and facial hair to prove it who’s ready to make his own way in the world.

He complied with my request to take a picture of him after making it clear that he didn’t understand why I “always want to do that.”

“Maybe some day you will, or maybe some day you won’t,” I answered before expressing my gratitude for his somewhat grudging permission.

We didn’t talk much on the way over to school, and the air between us was relaxed, easy. The tunes of the Stones’ Sweet Virginia wafted through the car as Aidan did his customary fiddling with his IPod.

We arrived at front of the school. Aidan pulled his blue bag that contained his yearbook out and prepared to leave.

“I love you, bud,” I said as he started to close the door.

“I love you, too,” he replied.

A lifetime and an instant ago, after driving Aidan to his first day of first grade, I walked with him as he entered his elementary school.

Today, I watched as he strode, one ear with a headset in, one ear free, toward the crosswalk and the building he would enter for the final time as a high school student.

I drove away, called Dunreith, who was on her way to the airport with her mother, and headed for home.

On Almost Famous, life’s fullness and feels flowing

I don’t know about you, but I loved Almost Famous, Cameron Crowe’s Academy-Award winning paean to his coming of age as a rock journalist.

Of the many classic songs on the soundtrack, the Beach Boys’ Feel Flows is the one I find bubbling up from within when I pay attention to what I am unconsciously humming.

I thought of the song today, when I was going back and forth between Dart Society stuff-I spoke with a member doing investigative training of journalists in African, met with a classmate of mine who has since become an investigator and went back and forth with Frank Ochberg, our founder and guru-and cranking on about four different projects at Hoy.

I didn’t make as much progress with some of them as I had hoped.

I continue to bungle the Spanish language in both spoken and written form, but gradually am improving in both areas.

I will fess up and say that yesterday in a piece about Lance Armstrong I put the word for the fan that whirls in a continual circle in place of someone who supports an athlete, band or other performer-a word choice that prompted major confusion from Jose Luis, our sports editor.

I also was tired this afternoon, so spent far more time than was probably necessary making sure that a figure we included in a story was indeed correct.

And that’s all part of the learning.

One of the aspects that’s so exciting for me now is that the various parts throughout my professional life-the investigative skills I learned at the Reporter, the Spanish I taught myself for a project Jon and I did together, the learning about trauma through the Dart fellowship, the follow-up skills I absorbed at Facing History, the ability to identify acknowledge people’s contributions through Paul Tamburello-are all coming to bear in ways that reinforce and build on each other.

I did not know 24 years ago, when I started in Paul Tamburello’s class as an apprentice teacher, that his turning to me and explaining the many reasons he was taking the actions he did would be useful nearly a quarter century later.

But they are.

I’m not sure exactly what tomorrow will bring.

I do know, though, that I’ll continue learning, and, in the good moments, the feel will be flowing.

More soon.

On Life’s Impermanence

All of us will die.

I’ve been reminded of that truth more than usual recently.

Two days ago, I heard that a former high school teacher and coach died after a seven-month battle with cancer.

And yesterday I learned from reading my college alumni magazine that a classmate died last October, also of cancer.

I was not exceptionally close to, and had not maintained contact with, either man.

Yet still learning about their passing jarred me, not only as a vivid reminder of time’s inexorable and inevitable passage, but also as a prompt to live close to my heart.

For me, that means being as fully present as possible and savoring my life’s many gifts.

Fortunately, I have many of them.

Unwavering love from Dunreith, who is showing her strength yet again in tending to her ailing mother.

A smile from Aidan at last night’s lacrosse banquet when his coach told the players to thank their parents.

Sitting at my desk in Hoy, listening to the Spanish being spoken and marveling at my good fortune in working there and at the unlikely place in which I find myself.

The pleasure of riding my bike with two full tires.

The joy in finding a seat on a crowded train.

The smell, taste and color of chicken tikka masala.

The sizzling of the cheeseburger I just made for Aidan after he returned from a season- and career-ending lacrosse defeat.

The cool air blowing in from outside as I write.

Memories of the last days of high school in 1983.

Tenderness in the voices of family and friends.

Forgiveness for mistakes.

An unexpected donation.

The ability to acknowledge and see visions being realized.

Breath

Love.

I know where we’ll  end, and I’m grateful for the many, many gifts I receive each day.

Peace.

Lance Armstrong and Doping … Again

The sharks that have tracked cycling legend and cancer survivor Lance Armstrong may finally have some real bleeding on which to focus their energies, if a recent 60 Minutes report is to believed.

At issue is whether Armstrong used performance-enhancing drugs after his recovery from cancer and during the record-setting seven consecutive years he won the Tour de France, biking’s most prestigious prize.

The Texan steadfastly denies any claims about having taken any illegal substances, saying repeatedly that he has been the most tested athlete in history who has never tested positive.

But a growing group of former United States Postal Service teammates say that is not true, and that, in fact, they and Armstrong doped together.

Dan Middleton on Obama’s Israel moment.

Dear friend, frequent Skyper and astute commentator Dan Middleton has this to say about yesterday’s post on Obama’s recent push for Israel to return to pre-1967 borders:

Hey Jeff…this issue has been much on my mind. I found Netanyahu’s behavior in the Oval Office presumptuous, bullying, and short-sited. He has AIPAC and Congress and opportunistic Republicans willing to go along, but today PBO sternly, respectfully, and clearly reiterated AGAIN to AIPAC today what the media got wrong on Thursday: go back to ’67 borders with land swaps…the media didn’t focus on the “with land swaps part” and created confusion which Netanyahu happily pounced on, much to the delight of Fox news.
Tippi Livni, Ehud Barack, and even Abe Foxman said Netanyahu was wrong.

PBO’s speech to AIPAC was essentially, “look..no one is going to take away US funding and military support, but the world is changing fast, and among the bad actors in the Middle East, there are many more who suddenly see a future without dictatorships, don’t isolate yourselves and let’s figure this out now because the status quo is unsustainable…”

p.s—Obama probably got it as right as he could, but while Bibi is in power, emboldened by Congress and Likud, he is unlikely to stop settlements.

one more Sullivan link in reaction to his piece. A telling response from Israel…a far better response than from me, who has limited understanding of the conflict.
Go Bulls.
http://andrewsullivan.thedailybeast.com/2011/05/the-bibi-barack-chess-game-ctd.html

Meanwhile, another Barak, this one Israeli Defense Minister Ehud, approved the creation of nearly 300 new settlements in Palestinian territory.

I don’t see this one being resolved soon.

Do you?

Obama’s Israel moment, Roger Fischer’s Getting to Yes.

Although he was reiterating pre-existing United States policy, President Barack Obama threw down the gauntlet last week with a call for Israel to acknowledge a Palestinian state and go back to the pre-1967 borders.

Unsurprisingly, Israeli Prime Minster Benjamin Netanyahu rejected the notion, leaving a number of commentators to say that his response left Israeli-U.S. relations in crisis and the peace process in tatters.

Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney, perhaps grateful from a diversion from what Slate called his recent quest to look authentic while explaining his support for comprehensive health care in Massachusetts and rejection of that same policy for the nation, said the Obama threw Israel under the bus-a phrase that seems to have much currency as “jumping the shark” did in past years.