It’s the last day of 2023 – Happy New Year! (Happy Sylvester for those who know). My 13 year old dog Bella woke me up early to eat her breakfast and go outside.  After taking care of her needs and brewing a pot of coffee, I sat down and turned on the television.  One of my favorite movies, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, was on, so I had to watch it.  It immediately brought back memories.

Fast Times chronicles high school in the early 80’s.  It’s the story of my adolescence.  At different times I can relate with Brad, Spicoli, Rat, and Damone. We knew who was Linda, who was Stacy, and who was Lisa. Certainly we all had a teacher like Mr. Hand. The hair, clothes, language, teachers, cars, and situations bring me right back to being in high school.  The friends and the fun we had, all while looking forward to our amazing futures in college, with careers, and the unlimited opportunities ahead of us.  It was the 1980s, so capitalism was king.  Everybody believed they would become incredibly successful and wealthy.  We had no limits ahead of us. 

Hanging out in somebody’s basement. Life was good and the future was bright for all of us.

It’s hard to believe that was about 40 years ago.  As I think back over the past approximately 40 years, I wonder where the time has gone.  I still feel like that 15–17-year-old high school kid most of the time, even though my own children are much older than that.  I still feel like I have that amazing future in front of me even though I also recognize that nearly 2/3 of my life is now behind me. 

Lately I have been thinking a lot about those times.  I attended two high schools.  My freshman and sophomore year were at Susquehanna in Harrisburg, PA.  Then we moved to the Philadelphia area where I finished high school at Upper Dublin.  My Susquehanna friends were friends from elementary, middle, and high school where we had a long history of growing up together.  My friends from Upper Dublin were forged from the power of the last two years of high school and coming of age together.  I moved to Florida in 1992 and lost contact with many of them until social media gave us the opportunity to reconnect many years later.

My high school classmates have had lives that cross the entire spectrum.  Unfortunately, some died tragic deaths at a young age.  I think of them and what they missed in life often, grateful for my own life experiences.  Some of them have been wildly financially successful, earning generational wealth.  Most of us have lived lives filled with meaning, getting through the ups and downs that life brings us.  We have faced challenges and successes, often with dignity and sometimes without.  Yet here we are, about to enter 2024, just like we entered our senior year of high school back in 1984.  Looking forward to what life brings us. I went back and found some pictures of us. Some aged well and some, well, let’s say they just aged.

Half of our graduating class. Try to find me – it definitely didn’t age well.

The other half of our class.

A group of us got to spend a month in England in November 1984. Feel free to write about my timeless look in the comments.

One of our favorite pictures from England as we got to dress in ancestral clothes

A group of us before prom. Perfectly 1980s

I was active in BBYO – most in this picture still keep in touch today.

Toga parties were the thing back then

One of my dear friends died of breast cancer this year.  She was a few months older than me, we graduated high school together, and kept in touch through the years.  Our lives followed similar paths.  Careers, marriage, children, family.  Meaningful lives that we could be proud of.  And then cancer struck.  She beat it once, but it came back and won the second time.  A .500 average in baseball would mean a unanimous Hall of Fame career.  A sad outcome in life.  We spoke a few months before her passing and while there seemed to be a resignation in her voice, she remained hopeful for the future.  When I think of her, I am always shocked that she is really gone and we won’t be able to share pictures, laughs, and the joy of our children’s accomplishments. We won’t be able to reminisce about ‘the good old days’ and laugh out loud at how ridiculous we were.

My dad died in 2022.  A few months ago, my mom told me a story that she had just recently heard from the person who was in the ambulance with him as he was transferred from a hospital in Tampa to Advent Health in Orlando.  He told this person that he wasn’t afraid of dying.  He just was sad about all that he would miss.  I think about his wisdom and insight all the time since my mom shared that story with me.  And how much he has missed in just over a year. And how much he will miss and how much we miss him. It brings tears to my eyes every single time. 

My dad, Evan and me on the field at Ben Hill Griffin stadium before a game during Evan’s football recruiting. One of my treasured memories as I watched my dad kvell over his grandson.

It reminds me that time is our most precious commodity and the only thing we can’t get back.  In 2013 when our moving truck caught fire and burned and we lost our material possessions, so many people reached out because of the loss.  Yet while we were saddened to have lost things that we loved; they were all replaceable.  And in my ‘proof God exists’ moment, the only things that weren’t lost in the moving fire were the things that couldn’t be replaced with any amount of money.  Things that came from our grandparents.  Our ketubah (Jewish marriage certificate).  Picture albums from my bar mitzvah, from our wedding, from when the kids were babies.  We can make more money, get another car, buy a different house or move to a different apartment, get new clothes, furniture, or other material things.  What we can’t get back is time.

The smell of smoke and burned things is fresh for me when I look at these pictures more than 10 years later.

So, as we end 2023 and begin 2024, I hope this is a year focused on people.  On friends and loved ones.  I have enjoyed reconnecting with my high school friends and seeing what their lives are like.  Enjoying their work and life accomplishments.  Seeing pictures of their grandchildren (I’m far too young to have grandchildren).  Watching their children graduate college, get married, have B’nai mitzvahs, and their major career changes.  Sharing stories both online and in person with each other, reminding ourselves of these special time that while long gone feel like yesterday.  I appreciate these friendships more every day and how we are able to help each other or our friends and families just because we want to and are able to. 

Just a few weeks ago, somehow the topic of a party I threw in early 1983 came up. The comments made me laugh as the memories of that crazy night came back. And of course, the next morning when I was busted by my parents and the punishment that came afterwards. Yet, 40 years later, I don’t regret it and love the memories we all share.

As we think about our goals for the new year, I urge you to think about the ones that are truly important.  They are not going to put that you ‘worked 50 hours a week’ on your tombstone. Nobody in their eulogy is going to celebrate that you ingnored your friends and family to work those extra hours. You will be celebrated for the things that you showed up to, not the things you missed to earn money. Think about the friendships from years ago and from today.  Think about what is really priceless and what is just transactional.  Invest your time and energy in the right place for an unbelievable return. As I do that, I wanted to share some pictures from this past year that re priceless to me. Because family and community is what is truly priceless to me.

My mom, brother, sister and me the day before my dad’s unveiling.

At the Orlando ballet with my son Matthew, his girlfriend Carla, and my wife Alison

Matthew and me at the Jaguars game – special father son time

Matthew and me watching my son Evan coach in the championship game for Tusculum College

Evan on the field before the conference championship game. Matthew and I are in the stands watching and cheering on Tusculum.

Matthew, Carla and me at the theater. Usually it’s Alison but when she has to work, Carla takes her place

Alison and me on vacation in Bali

Evan in his happy place – coaching college football. I’m so grateful he found his passion and is pursuing it.

Traveling to DC with a group from Orlando to join the 300,000 people who rallied in support of Israel after the horrors Hamas committed on October 7, 2023. I’m proud to be one of the people who were there.