Number 145

Somewhere up around Channel 300-something on basic cable, Neil Patrick Harris is still child-prodigy Dougie Howser, MD. At the end of each show, Dougie would sit down at his computer and, in two or three sentences, sum up the moral of the story. I was always impressed by that. It was an online journal...a log, if you will. On the worldwide web, it became a web log and then was eventually shortened to simply a blog.

In this, the 145th edition of whatever you want to call these missives that I've been posting for almost eight years, I'm still searching for the moral of the story. Today's blogs are mostly reiterations of basic business principles or lists of five or ten things that the author has learned or discovered from his or her vast corporate or start-up background. Some time ago, I made the decision not to jump into this myriad of wisdom-filled ramblings. I enjoy much more taking a look at the world around us and relating pieces of my life that at least contribute to the search for a moral to the story.  It's not business.  It's personal.

These and all my social postings do not go to the "public at large". I doubt the world cares much about little ol' me. "Friends" has become a very loose term online for many today but I do try to keep track of who receives my writings. And I'm always quick to say that the delete key is only an inch away, should you have no interest in the subject...or me.

As 2015 comes to a close, travel has been on my mind.  Year-end is a big travel season and, throughout my life, it has been consumed by travel. To a great degree, travel has been a means to an end. Culture, sport and art have all influenced my personality and the exposure that travel offers to the differences in all of us brings a richness to life that is hard to find any other way.

That said, travel is not what it used to be but it's still there. We may have to take more care in how and where we travel.  But that experience, whether it's for business or pleasure, close to home or thousands of miles away, makes us more aware of those around us who look at the world differently than we do. And, with a little effort, we may learn to, at least, understand why they think the way they do.

Travel has found friends for me in places I had never been before.  Some of those people don't speak the same language. Some don't have the same ideals. Some have a spiritual way to live life that is most enviable. Some have shown me that catching a fish symbolizes all the challenges we face.

Travel has allowed me to witness history when Nelson Mandela was elected president of South Africa and when Phil Ershler became the first American to climb Mt. Everest from the Chinese North side. I've listened to Mozart Symphonies in the Salzburg town square and I've watched a sushi chef pound a ten-penny nail into the head of a live eel, immediately cut a filet out of the fish's side and offer it to me on the end of the knife. There's no hesitation. You just eat it (chewy!).

When I sat next to Thor Heyerdahl at dinner in a small french village, all the adventurer, who sailed 8000 km across the Pacific Ocean on a raft, wanted to talk about was Seattle and the Space Needle. Travel makes you curious.  And I just keep getting curiouser and cursiouser. The mode of travel is what is causing most concerns today. Travel by air, train and auto all have their dangers.  Even cycling and walking are hazardous in some locales. I can't stop though.  I'm not afraid. I'm cautious and aware but the value is too high to refrain from it.

Just a few days ago, Jane and I were walking a remote beach in the Hawaiian Islands when we encountered another couple. We wanted to trade photos of each other with our cell phones.  In what was good English in my mind, the gentleman told me they were French but he thought he understood.  We traded phones and took pictures of each other. I pulled out my pidgin French from the recesses of my mind and told them we were from Seattle. They nodded "oui" to the reference,

Then I ventured on to try and say that we had flown a huge French flag on top of the Space Needle after the Paris terrorist attack.  Again they nodded and said they were from Paris. Finally I said we had the French Consul deliver that flag to the president of the Eiffel Tower just a week before. After a moment of thought, the reply with a smile was "Nous avons vu le drapeau a Paris...Merci beau coup." (We saw the flag in Paris.  Thank you very much.)

That is why travel means so much to me.  I would not trade that experience for anything. I hope that 2016 brings good health and happiness to all of us. And that our world becomes a more peaceful and safe place. Travel will definitely be in my future and I hope it's in yours. Keep on, keeping on. And look out for Number 146.

A true friend of man

South Africa has made an indelible impression on my life over the past 25 years.  I've written about it several times in this blog and given my reaction to the ground-breaking World Cup event that was held there in 2010.  Several times, Jane and I have been able to "live" there for extended periods of time since 1990. And I was working there when Nelson Mandela was elected president in 1994.

South Africans seem to view life from a high plateau.  They have a different set of values than most of us and their world revolves on a slightly slower axis.  Nelson Mandela was South African through and through.

I was fortunate to encounter the great man on a number of occasions. The first time is as clear to me today as when it happened.  In the movie “Invictus”, Matt Damon’s character is summoned to the Capital in Pretoria to meet the new president.  He pulls up in a dated automobile and enters through a grand set of doors.  When I was producing and promoting a solo yacht race around the world, we were the first international event to come to South Africa after Mandela’s election. Through our major sponsor, I received a similar invitation to come to the Capital and we drove in a slightly more upscale car to the very spot where Matt arrived in the movie.

The Jacaranda that Pretoria is known for were in full bloom.  The air was sweet with their aroma. When we entered the building, there was a definitive lack of hustle and bustle. We walked down a long hallway to the office of the minister of sport and talked for a while about the impact and global attention that our event would bring to Cape Town and the country. Midway in our meeting, the door opened and, without ceremony, Nelson Mandela entered the room.  He was dressed casually, wearing loafer-style shoes that looked like slippers.  We were introduced and he was told why we were there.

When I had the opportunity, I told him I was from Seattle and that I was president of the board of the Seattle Central Community College Foundation, because I knew he was acquainted with my good friend Charles Mitchell.  He said had been there to see Charles, who was president of the college at that time.

Our yacht race was a bit controversial down there because of the elitist reputation of big events like the America’s Cup.  I spent some time explaining  that our race was a “Corinthian” endeavor which anyone with the right skills could enter.  Some of our entrants sold their houses and cars to become a part of it and others saved their money for years just to compete.  He smiled and said “That is good.”

His presence was powerful and calming.  He spoke quietly and succinctly. When it was clear he was leaving, I realized that without my camera, I had no way of commemorating this extraordinary connection.  The entire meeting was very unceremonious.  But I couldn't resist so I opened my reporter’s notebook that I used to chronicle the meeting and asked him if he would autograph one of the pages for me.  His face lit up with that familiar big grin and he said, “You don’t want my signature.  I’m not special.  Ask the next person you see on the street to sign. It is those people who are important to this country.”  Wow! What else can I say.

He said he hoped to see me again and that someday we might meet in Seattle. We did have that meeting years later at Seattle Central Community College on a very heartwarming occasion that was all about children and education...two of his and my favorite subjects. And he convincingly said he remembered me.

Cape Town is such a beautiful and magical city. After the meeting, he cleared the way to make our event there successful, thanks primarily to the wonderful group of South Africans who made up our local committee.  They are great friends to this day and have taught me so much about their country that it feels like home.

Nelson Mandela is gone now.  We have lost a great leader.  I have lost a hero who gave me a new vision of what our world could be. His aura has influenced my approach to the problems faced by our society on so many occasions.  We have all changed a great deal since he was released from prison.  We’ll never be the same.  I just hope we can be better.  He wanted that desperately. I am so fortunate to have met him along the way.  I will never forget "Madiba".