This Man Joseph

Might enjoy this Inquirer article on Mary's husband Joseph. It received much comment, almost all positive.

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20141214_This_kind_of_father_raised_this_kind_of_son.html

Applause Please

My Inquirer article on Applause was picked up by a number of papers around the country. Here's one from The Winona Daily News, wherever that is.

http://www.winonadailynews.com/print-specific/columns/orlando-r-barone-let-s-reinstate-genuine-heartfelt-applause/article_2688e6f2-de8b-5e7d-b2ed-27840d052cac.html

A First Step

Here is my latest Inquirer Article from 9/23/2014. Enjoy!
http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/20140923_A_first_step__and_the_way_opens.html

Robin Williams: Truibute to a Man of Laughter

He was chatting, sitting innocently in the chair to the right of Johnny Carson when Robin Williams launched into an impromptu bit. I saw it only once, when it aired, so my recollection may not be verbatim. I never laughed harder at anything in my life.

“Imagine,” Williams said, “Fred Astaire is about to dance, when accidentally steps into a pile of doggy do.” Johnny’s band leader hastily provides accompaniment. The comedian jumps up and sweeps the whole set in a spot on evocation of the suave dancer. Then, of course, he steps in it.

He alternates between graceful, elegant dance steps and furious efforts to scrape the doggy do off the sole of his shoe, using the bandstand riser and the edge of Johnny’s desk to accomplish the futile task.

The mix of insouciant grace interspersed with rageful frustration was comedic genius rivaling the best offerings of Charlie Chaplin and the long line of physical comics since. Top hat, white tie, tails, and doggie do. That was Robin Williams.

His insight into comedy was as simple as is was profound. He taught us that everything is funny, as long as humans are found doing it. And the more serious they are about it, the funnier it is.

The unwitting comedians he exposed with rat-a-tat impressions, flung so hard and fast you dare not blink, include presidents, hip hop singers, pundits, intellectuals, transvestites, Shakespearian actors, addled teenage boys and girls, and addled aged men and women. The list is inclusive, endless really. He skewered William F. Buckley himself in three seconds as the voice of Alladin’s genie.

If serious could be attributed to him, he was a serious actor, attended Julliard on full scholarship, earned three Oscar nominations and won one for his moving and intelligent performance in Good Will Hunting. Some critics contend that his coiled energy threatens to break through in his straight acting performances, but I don’t buy it. His acting is disciplined, deeply felt, pitch perfect.

Even Mrs. Doubtfire provides Williams a far more difficult challenge than it appears, since he has to play a desperate and irresponsible husband and also impersonate an elderly woman. He must evoke empathy, exasperation, pathos, and, of course, lots of laughs. He must do all this opposite the esteemed Sally Field. He more than holds his own.

His voiceover in Disney’s Alladin places him in the rarified company of Disney’s greatest: Sterling Holloway, Phil Harris, Angela Landsbury, Ellen DeGeneris, Peggy Lee, and Tom Hanks. Some have said he was the best of a great roster.

But it is the improvisational Robin Williams whose imprint sets him utterly apart. His idol Jonathan Winters captured the humor in ordinary scenes featuring recurring characters who were offbeat (or just off). Williams’ characters did not recur; they glanced off him in a fierce volley of personified energy and were whisked away by the next utterly unexpected arrival.

Their appearance amazed us because we knew they were conjured in that instant. Their moment of life sparked in us a gasp of recognition; these were people taken from the world we know, the world of celebrity, governance, and everyday life. And, most exquisitely, these firefly personalities were hilarious, flashes of every human foible fallible humans can fabricate.

I do not know why this lovely man, whose work has never contained a whiff of meanness or cruelty, chose to end his life so cruelly. It was a life dedicated to the impossible task of getting as many of us as possible laughing long and hard, mostly at ourselves. Perhaps he felt that in our willingness to laugh together, we might just decide to put an end to useless hate and mindless violence.

Perhaps he read the most recent headlines detailing the horrendous woes we humans bring upon one another. Perhaps he realized that even his frenetic comic energy could not make enough of us laugh to overwhelm our darker impulses. If he was indeed suffering the early stages of Parkinson’s, that too could have been a factor. I don’t know.

I do know this. Robin Williams’ fine wish to spend himself in his frantic, crazy, wild, and sublimely funny effort to make us laugh provided us a great gift none of us deserved. Maybe we should have laughed just a bit more.

Inquirer Article by Lonnie

Here is my latest Inquirer Article from July 11, 2014.

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/20140711_Reconnecting_with_the_Earth.html

Maya Angelou Article

Here is my article from The Sunday, June 1 Philadelphia Inquirer, celebrating the life and inspiration of Maya Angelou.

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20140601_A_soaring_voice__larger_than_life.html

Inquirer Article for May 25, 2014

Here is my May 25 article in the Inquirer. Enjoy.
http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/20140525_The_higher_calling_is_to_affirm_importance_of_others_in_our_lives.html

A Walk Upstream

Here is my latest Inquirer article. I hope it provides a few things to think about

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/20140413_The_journey_is_the_object__and_we_never_take_it_by_ourselves.html

Welcome to Lonnie Out Loud, my blog, which Maida, my wife, tells me is one way to bore only those who choose to be bored with what I have to say. Along with the original items posted here, I'll provide you with links to my other published material, including articles that appear in the Philadelphia Inquirer.

If you wish to dabble in my recent writings, try these:

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American Hustle and Integrity: 3/2/2014

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20140302_Integrity__It_s_the_right_choice.html

Some Goals for 2014: 12/29/2013

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20131229_Some_goals_to_take_with_us_into_the_new_year.html#Dju6dZKVM0MBZJJv.03

A pope for the bruised: 12/1/2013

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20131201_A_pope_for_the_bruised.html

Inspiring Teachers 10/20/13

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20131020_Teachers_inspire_for_a_lifetime.html

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20130915_What_it_really_should_mean_to__man_up_.html

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/20130807_Golden_rule_for_linguistics.html

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20130731_Pope_has_faith_in_the_people.html 

-->http://articles.philly.com/2013-07-15/news/40571533_1_dad-ears-farm
http://articles.philly.com/2013-02-13/news/37081755_1_pope-talks-john-xxiii-interim-pope

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/167451205.html

http://www.philly.com/philly/education/137834368.html

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/inquirer/20120422_Attention_must_be_paid.html

http://www.philly.com/philly/opinion/20120624_Catholics_have_rendered_a_verdict.html

If you enjoy any of those pieces, you might want to stop by lonnieoutloud.blogspot.com occasionally to check out my musings on whatever has grabbed my 100% distractable attention at any given moment. (A wonderful woman, Lex McCullough, who was my administrative assistant when I was a high school principal until she couldn't take it any more, once called me that: "100% distractable" which pretty much says it all.)

So, welcome. Thanks.

Lonnie

Sky Warriors

The pilot informs me I am cruising at 31,000 feet, but it’s far from exhilarating. I’m tired for one thing. I began the week leading my negotiation workshop for public health professionals at Harvard, then swooped past the Smoky Mountains onto a chemical plant in Knoxville to help unveil a competency model for first-line leaders. I haven’t communicated with anyone who speaks American in a week!

I left a place where cars are cahs and bars are bahs only to land in a humid clime where pies are pahs and ties are tahs.

And the odd thing is, every one of them thinks I have a funny accent. Look, we’re all from somewhere else. The guy I worked with in Boston had just flown in from Utah, while my Southern colleague, who resides a few miles from my Bucks County home, had recently taken flight from France, and his cohort was a Brit from London.

We’re the sky warriors, the denizens of the jet stream who make our living in the global workplace by behaving as if the globe is our workplace. Which it is.

If you’ve flown for whatever reason, you’ve seen us. We’re men and women from our 20s to our 60s. We often get on the plane first because we’ve earned that coveted pre-Zone One status by flying more than the flight attendants. We slow up your security line because we always have a laptop and iPad to disgorge from our briefcases and place on the screening belt along with our rolling suitcases which we always carry on, checked luggage being a major sin. We’re dressed in what may have at one time been a suit, but it’s probably lost its jacket and tie or scarf along the way.

If it’s Friday night, we’ve earned those circles under our bloodshot eyes, and that tablet book we’re reading is a welcome respite from the unremitting week of work. We can’t wait to see our spouse, our kids, our bed, anything familiar.

In an era obsessed with balancing work and life, we consider ourselves lucky if we keep our balance on the mad dash down the moving walkway to our connection at Gate F-72. “Stand right, walk left,” the sign insists. Guess who’s in the passing lane?

Ironically, a lot of us make good money but live like street people. At 2 a.m. we hang out in empty, uncleaned airports or make our way lugubriously to a quiet Marriott, dragging our belongings behind us as we check in, glancing at the hotel receipt to see what city we’re in, perhaps scooting out to an all-night Wendy’s for an insomniac-compatible snack.

If you ask us what we care about most, we’ll tell you its that family we don’t see enough of. If you ask why we do what we do, we’ll probably shrug: We do what we do because it’s what we do.

We don’t complain, though we might crack a wry smile at friends who say they envy our glamorous lifestyle. What’s to complain about? We sky warriors have chosen this life; no one’s making us do it. Our finances are more secure than most, and we’re part of a really cool planetary coalition of globe-trotting laborers who (mostly) know the two great social virtues of the frequently flying: waiting our turn, and giving each other as much space as we can muster.

What’s more, much more, our jobs tend to be very interesting. Companies don’t fund trips halfway around the world so we can accomplish something utterly mundane. We’re situated excitingly in the vanguard of the 21st century, at the precise juncture where today’s challenges meet tomorrow’s solutions. It’s the best view in the house.

And sometimes the trip moves beyond exciting all the way to sublime. Like the day a client, the Head of Global Pharmico-something-or-other sat in his company’s New Jersey cafeteria and gave me a scoop on the new drug I’d soon be reading about. “It actually reverses the course of certain forms of leukemia” he said. Then, to his great surprise, tears welled in his eyes. He managed to add: “I’ve seen kids get well after just a few treatments.”

That night he was off to Switzerland, one more sky warrior cruising above 30,000 feet, crisscrossing the skies over Paris, Singapore, Dehli, and Doylestown, to the next stop on an eventful career. We make a contribution, each of us, to a sometimes shaky, always unpredictable, invariably fascinating worldwide economic force. No, we won’t save the world or cure a dread disease. OK, maybe once in a very great while.