Tag: time

Reflecting and Reflections

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

As we begin 2025, I have found myself much more reflective than normal. For me, the end of a year is usually more future focused than reflective. I tend to look at what the upcoming year may bring and the opportunities that lie ahead rather than looking back at what happened and can’t be changed. I am not sure what is different this year but it definitely is different.

The past four years have been filled with incredible challenges and learning experiences. From dealing with the challenges and stress of Covid, especially when I was running an organization with almost 150 employees depending on me, to health challenges that at one point indicated potential major surgery, life was challenging. 2022 is the year that my dad died, a truly transformative event in my life. We were very close and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of him and miss him. I had a major career change and recently had another health scare that thankfully turned out to not be anything serious. I’ve had friends die and seeing people my age or slightly older die has shown me the reality that there is far more time behind me than ahead of me. My oldest son has begun his career and no longer lives close by. My youngest son is graduating college in May. As I prepare for 2025, it is clear that all these things have made me more reflective than ever before.

As we approach the start of 2025, I find myself thinking about what really matters to me. What is it that I really want? What is it that I really value? Who do I want in my life? How do I want to spend my time? Who do I want to invest my most precious commodity, my time, with? I recently found old picture albums and boxes with pictures in them. As I look back at my college pictures, it doesn’t seem that long ago, yet it also seems forever ago. My 40th High School reunion is in 2025 and as I look at those pictures, it feels like yesterday while also feeling like it was lived by a different person. Perhaps it’s that stage of life, approaching 60, my youngest graduating college, watching nieces and nephews get married and have children, that is causing this.

It is actually a wonderful place to be. Challenging for sure, but also wonderful.

What does matter to me? Over the past few years I have clarified things and been much more focused. Here is my list as we start 2025.

  • Health. Without health we have nothing. I remember hearing this from my grandparents as a child and not appreciating it. Over the past few years, I have had some health challenges and understand it. My father had health challenges and then died in 2022. I recently had a friend die of a heart attack while he slept. I’ve seen far too many people my age or close to my age struggle with health issues and many pass away. Health matters. That means taking care of myself in ways I never would have before. It means being grateful for every day I wake up and am not struggling with a health issue. It’s being grateful for the health of my family and my friends. At the end of the day, health matters the most because no matter what else I have, if I don’t have my health, I really have nothing.
  • Family. I grew up being taught about the importance of family. Not just immediate family, but family by blood and by choice. In my family, I have brothers and sisters, both by blood (one of each) and by choice (2 of each). I have cousins that I am close with that are not your typical first cousins. I have aunts and uncles that are defined that way by the dictionary and those that are defined that way by their actions. I recently was talking to my aunt and uncle (who technically would be cousins) and I said to them point blank, “You are my aunt and uncle. You always have been and always will be.”. Family matters. Family shows up. Family is so much more than just blood. I got a note from my ‘brother’ on New Year’s Eve that touched my heart deeply. He talked about how our friendship that began more than 35 years ago has changed his life. I told him it changed mine as well. He has been, and always will be, my brother. His mom was my mom. His aunt and uncle were my aunt and uncle. My parents were his parents. I’m known as ‘Uncle K’ to his kids. He is Uncle Aric to mine. You can replace most things in life but you can’t replace family.
  • Basic needs. I grew up in the 70s and 80s. Gordon Gecko and ‘Greed is Good’. Yuppies and the desire for material things. Madonna and ‘Material Girl’. More was always better. In my life today, more is not better. I find myself wanting less. I want to make sure I have clothes, shelter, and food. While I have a nice car, it’s not something that I ‘need’ and look forwad to when I get a different one and getting one that is a ‘step down’. I find that material things are not what drives me nor do I find myself ‘wanting’ many things. I’d rather get a call and a happy birthday wish than a gift. For Hanukkah this year, being together as a family and lighting candles together was so much more than any material gift. I am actively in the process of moving from ‘wanting less’ to ‘having less’, not because of economics but because things don’t mean much any longer. As I was cleaning out my garage last weekend, I came across some old photo albums. The memories in those pictures meant more to me than any material item. My focus is on my basic needs and the rest isn’t necessary. It no longer adds much value to my life.
  • Values. This may seem like a strange thing to list here but it is actually one of the most important to me. Who I am, what I stand for matters. The type of person that I am, matters to me. I don’t have to be right all the time. I don’t have to ‘win’ all the time. I appreciate those who help me and I want to do what I can to help others. Not because I will ‘get’ anything from it, other than feeling good because I am doing good. It helps me understand the Jewish value of “Tikkun Olam” in a different way. By being a better person, by having and living my values, by treating people with dignity and respect, by helping others without expectation of anything in return, I get so much. I recently had a friend who has been struggling to find full time employment. We would talk over texts as she shared her frustration with the job market. I kept my eyes open for her and found a variety of opportunities for her to consider. I was there to help and support her. Eventually, I found one that worked out for her – she got a job doing what she loves, in an environment that is positive, and that pays her a salary that she feels is appropriate for her skill level and talent. The fact that she is working for another friend of mine only makes it better, as they both win. What did I get out of it? Nothing material – just feeling good that I was able to help two friends. Values and integrity are everything. They mean far more to me than a paycheck or any material good. I feel good about who I am every day when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. That is truly priceless.
  • Time. This has become more important as I have gotten older. We have no control over the time we have on this earth. My cousin, who was my age and like a brother to me, died unexpectedly in 1995. His brother, who I sort of adopted as my little brother, died in 2015. My father died in 2022. My fraternity big brother died in 2013. One of my close friends and I have begun to keep track of our fraternity brothers who have died young. When our time is up, our time is up. It’s what we do with our time that matters. For many years, building my career was a top priority. It meant sacrificing time with my family, with my children, with my parents, because of the demands required to be successful. Many people behave this way. I made the decision that I no longer want that. I don’t want my time defined by work. Just this past year, I went to watch my older son coach college football games three times. I took a crazy day trip to California with my younger son to see the Giants and A’s each play home games before taking the redeye home. I took Brightline with my younger son and his girlfriend to Miami to see the Marlins play and get our SpongeBob Squarepants Marlins jerseys. My wife and I went to Red Rocks to see Carlos Santana in concert. We go to the theater for Broadway shows, we travel to watch the UFC fights, spending money to get good seats and have a memorable experience. I spend a good amount of time in Israel in 2024 with trips in May, July, and September. I meet my mom in Lakeland, halfway between us, for lunch or dinner. Time is a commodity. How we choose to use it is up to us. I spent enough time devoted to my career. While I still spend plenty of time working and on my career, I value family and time spent in meaningful ways much more than extra money, a bigger professional role, or a big title. My priorities have shifted.
  • Friends. Throughout my career and my life, I have made a lot of friends. What I have learned is that many people who we call friends are merely acquaintences. They are people who are there in the good times, who are there when you can give them something, and are there when it benefits them. Real friends show up during the difficult times. Real friends show up when it is inconvenient for them but you need them. Real friends don’t care what others think. Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to learn who my real friends are. I have seen people that I thought were friends simply not show up. Not reach out. I have seen people show up and show that they are real friends who I didn’t expect would show up. I do things differently now. I make sure to check in with my friends, not matter where they live. I do it not because of what they can do for me but because I value them in my life. A few months ago, I started having lunch with a group of guys on Friday. They are all 80+ so I bring the demographic down signficantly. I love these lunches. I enjoy the company, the conversation, the things I learn from them. While some of them I have known for years, others are new friends. I do my best not to miss those lunches because I value their company. I learn from them. I can honestly say that if any of them needed something, I would be there for them. I reach out to friends that I know are struggling with things in life, just to be a voice telling them that I’m here and I care. I have learned how important active friendship is and make sure to be an active friend.
  • Spirituality. While I would not call myself a very religious person, I am a very spiritual person. I pray and meditate every morning and have for over 30 years. I like learning with a Rabbi (I have two that I do it with) because it helps me connect with God in different ways and helps me be a better human being. I enjoy rituals like putting on tefillin, singing Acheinu every day until the hostages are released, lighting the menorah, eating apples and honey, and cooking for holiday meals as if 40 people are showing up even when it’s just 4-6. These are things than bring me joy. My connection to God brings me joy. My Jewish identity brings me joy. These things actually make my life both simpler and fuller. I have found that nothing in life happens by accident. There is a divine force behind it all – I may not see or appreciate it for a while, but it is there. I am who I am today because of my life experiences. The ones that I loved and the ones that I would not have chosen. I know that God always takes care of me in the long run, even if the short run is uncomfortable and not what I would have chosen on my own. It is why I say thank you every morning for whatever the day may bring me. If it was up to me, I would always choose the easier option. This would inhibit my growth as a human being. This would limit me. Instead, I get the gift of opportunity to grow and experience life. I’ll take that every time. I love my spirituality and spiritual connection. It brings me great joy and meaning. It is a path I encourage everybody to follow, wherever it may take them. Each of our paths are different and I hope you follow yours. I’m going to keep following mine.
One of my favorite books by my spiritual advisor for the past 27 years

Speaking of friends, one of mine recently turned 24 (as you can tell, I have friends in their 20s and in their 80s, I’m an equal opportunity friend when it comes to age). For her 24th birthday, she listed 24 life lessons she has learned. It is an impressive list and one I look at very differently now than I would have at 24. It’s amazing how life experiences change the way we see the same exact things. Here is her list:

 1.⁠ ⁠Life means nothing without the people you love around you
 2.⁠ ⁠Chase your dreams everyday – life is not to be lived waiting around
 3.⁠ ⁠Purpose mixed with passion will take you places in life
 4.⁠ ⁠It’s okay to f*** up – we all do – that’s how you learn
 5.⁠ ⁠Not everything is for everyone, and that’s okay
 6.⁠ ⁠Workout before making a big or impulsive decision – you will always have a different perspective after
 7.⁠ ⁠If you don’t ask, you’ll never get
 8.⁠ ⁠Be comfortable being uncomfortable – that’s where growth happens
 9.⁠ ⁠Everyone has their own way of doing things, there is no 1 way to do it, find your way to make it work
10.⁠ ⁠Learn something from everyone you speak too – advice is not always meant to tell you what to do, sometimes it’s to show you what not to do
11.⁠ ⁠Two things can be true at the same time….
12.⁠ ⁠Happiness comes from doing things that you joy
13.⁠ ⁠Dare to be wrong in life, it’s always a lesson and a good story
14.⁠ ⁠If something won’t matter in 5 hours, 5 days or even 5 years – everything will be alright
15.⁠ ⁠You create memories everyday, make them memories with people you love
16.⁠ ⁠Being comfortable with yourself is the biggest gift you can give yourself
17.⁠ ⁠Ask questions always – don’t be afraid to feel stupid
18.⁠ ⁠People want to be around people doing good things for this world and making a difference
19.⁠ ⁠Life is not about you – it’s about the people you touch
20.⁠ ⁠You never know how something may affect someone else, good or bad
21.⁠ ⁠Do the difficult thing. Say the hard thing… whats the worst that can happen?
22.⁠ ⁠You don’t owe anyone your time or energy – it’s precious, hold on to it tight
23.⁠ ⁠Growth is a process – be patient with yourself – it doesn’t happen over night
24.⁠ ⁠Appreciate the moment because you will look back at the ‘good ole times’ and miss being here

As we move into 2025, I encourage you to take a look at your life. Ask yourself what really matters to you. Then act on what matters to you. Society tells us all sorts of things are ‘supposed’ to matter. The reality is that the only things that matter are those you decide are important to you. Take ownership and take action. Nobody is responsible for your life and your choices other than you.

The trading of time

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

I’m here in Israel for two weeks with a group of young adults on a leadership program.  The Jewish Leadership Institute (JLI) was created by Rabbi Mayer Abramowitz more than 30 years ago.  He was a visionary.  He understood in the early 1990s that the future was on the college campus and that providing answers to the WHY of Judaism was critical to developing Jewish leaders.  I was introduced to the program in 1998 and have been a fan ever since.  Now I get to work with my friend David, Rabbi Abramowitz’s son, on JLI and the future of JLI.

While the focus of the trip is on the young adults, it is impossible not to be inspired by both them and the content.  I find myself thinking deeply throughout the different experiences and while I am not the intended target of the program (nor are you) the impact is felt.

Yesterday we had an amazing tour guide, Eytan Rund, take us on a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem.  I’ve been on many tours of the Old City.  Too many to count.  I love the Old City.  Last month, our guide gave a totally different view of the Old City that I wrote about.  Eytan spent two hours with us giving one of the most amazing tours I have ever experienced of the Old City. 

Eytan’s focus was on the difference between seeing old stuff and seeing stories, history, and memory.  The Old City was his muse to talk about peoplehood.  To talk about the Jewish collective.  To talk about what being Jewish means – being part of a mishpacha, a family, that is thousands of years old.  As we looked down into the ruins of Jerusalem from the time of the first Temple, he explained this was this built 3,000 years ago by Jews.  Well before Christianity.  Well before Islam. This is our homeland that we built.  He talked about how after the destruction of the first Temple, Jerusalem was filled in with sand to make an entirely new ground, well above the prior city.  It is always amazing to look at the areas from the time of the first Temple however this was different.  He tied it to us.  We built the first Jerusalem.  We built the second Jerusalem.  And we built the current Jerusalem.  It was powerful.

As we walked through the Old City, he focused on 1948 and the battle for the Old City as well as the battles with the Assyrians, Persians, and Romans.  The stories were vivid.  They were personal.  On my trip last month, Saul Blinken, our trip leader, talked about what a miracle it is that we get to wake up in Jerusalem.  We walk the streets of Jerusalem.  We breathe the air of Jerusalem.  That was incredibly impactful for me.  I am fulfilling the dreams of my ancestors from 2,000 years ago and I can never forget that.  Eytan reiterated that in his own way.  The modern state of Israel is truly a miracle that our ancestors who were conquered by the Romans could never imagine. 

It made me think of a story that my friend Harry Rothenberg told me a few years ago as we were climbing Masada.  I challenged him to do some on the spot Torah teaching about climbing a mountain.  He said that when God told Moses he would not be permitted to enter the land of Israel, Moses begged God thousands of times to be allowed to enter.  God refused every time.  God finally told Moses that if he climbed this mountain, he would be able to look into Israel and see the entire land.  Moses climbed the mountain, saw the land, and his love for the land he saw but could not entered is a part of all of us.  That is why we love Israel.  It’s a great teaching about how our love for this land goes back thousands of years.  It’s not since 1948.  It’s not since the late 1800s and Theodore Herzl and the creation of modern Zionism.  It goes back to Abraham.  To Moses.  To King David and King Solomon.  It is a part of who we are. 

One of the things I love about JLI is our morning services.  As somebody who does not like services, that is an interesting statement to make.  The reason I enjoy these services so much is because they focus on the WHY not the WHAT.  As we continued to discuss the prayers about thanking God for restoring our soul and for the rooster knowing the difference between day and night, we talked about time.  Previously I wrote about how Judaism marks the passage of time, so we don’t lose our focus.  Today we talked about how we are always trading time.

It is a fascinating concept that most people don’t really think about until they are older.  That is when we begin to realize that time is our most precious commodity.  We can always make more money, get a new car, a new house, new clothes, TVs, computers, etc.  What we can never get back is time.  Life is about the value of time and what we are willing to trade time for.

For many years, I was willing to trade time for money.  For career.  For ego and for title.  For status.  For the nicer house and the better car.  I wouldn’t trade time with my children – I took them to doctors appointments, went to their sporting events and music performances. I specifically remember having a small counseing practice and when I did the analysis of what insurance was paying me, realized that I would rather have dinner with my family than make money. Until I got a bigger job.

The bigger job, for some reason, changed the equation. I began to trade time more freely. I didn’t realize that’s what I was doing. I knew I didn’t like it but I continued to do it. After a few years, I realized that among many things, I wasn’t willing to trade that time for the money, title, and prestige of that job. So I left. My new job was still demanding but not in the same way. The trading of time was different. Perhaps it was because my children were a little older.

The question to ask ourselves is what is each experience worth? What would I trade it for? As one of our teachers here in Israel asked, ‘Would you trade your elbow for a million dollars? How about both elbows for ten million dollars?’ Over the past almost year, my equation for trading time has changed. I am eternally grateful for the last three weeks of my father’s life when I was able to be there for him and my mom. It is time I can never get back and I’m glad I didn’t trade that time for money, prestige, power, or anything else. I am not willing to trade time with my children the way I used to be. I won’t trade the time with my wife the way I used to be. My job today requires travel and it is not always balanced (July is a month of almost entire travel) but I built in time for a trip with my wife.

As we evaluate our lives, time is the ultimate measuring stick. Not money. Not titles. Not power nor prestige. At the end of the day, it is the time I spent with my family, with my wife, my children, my parents, that matter the most. It’s a lesson I continue to learn and I’m far from where I want to be with my willingness to trade time but I am much better than I was just a year ago.

Maybe this comes with age. Maybe it comes with losing a parent. I’m excited to take trips this fall to watch my older son coach college football. Sure it’s a 10 hour drive each way but who cares. It is likely either my wife or younger son or both will be in the car with me. Plus I get to watch him do what he loves. I’m excited to take trips with my younger son to sporting events, concerts, and other things. I look forward to planning the things my wife and I will do together and when not traveling for work, the time we just spend together as I get to work from my home office those days.

Life is far too short to give away our most valuable possession. Time.

How do you value your time? What are you willing to trade for time with your spouse, your children, your parents, your friends? Once you trade that time away, you can never get it back.

Normal? What’s normal? Lessons in what is most valuable in life

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

Normal.  Such a simple word.  I remember when we argued about the meaning.  I remember when it was considered offensive because what was normal to me might not be normal for you and vice versa.  Over the last few years, it seems that distinction has fallen away as nobody has felt ‘normal’.  I was thinking today, “When was the last time we felt normal?”

In January 2017, a few months after I started at The Roth Family JCC, we received our first bomb threat in a series of threats that would terrorize JCCs for 6 months.  We received the very first one.  A few days later, we got a second one.  We got our third in two weeks before our security director guessed that these were robo-dialed calls and not only blocked robo calls but also put in other steps that stopped us from getting any more.  The bomb threats cost us huge revenue.  As they continued for five more months, security became a priority and an additional expense.  Revenue was down.  Expenses were up.  Morale was down from staff and members.  It created an economic hole that took a few years to dig out of.

Just as we began to recover from the bomb threats and everything that created, there was a new virus that was beginning to go around at that time.  We were concerned a little bit about what it could mean but we had other scares like SARS and Bird Flu and H1N1. We were conditioned that this would be another thing that was no big deal. March 13, 2020, we closed the JCC for two weeks to ‘slow the curve’ and the spread of the virus.  A week later we laid off 136 of our 139 employees as we shut down for an undetermined amount of time.  While we began the reopening process in early May and rehired most employees (some didn’t want to come back because of Covid), nothing was normal again.

Covid, while better in Florida than most of the rest of the country, was filled with stress.  Running a nonprofit, trying to deal with a new business model, keeping people as safe as we could with changing protocols and knowledge, was incredibly difficult and challenging.  For over two years it was a different reality.  As we came out of Covid, we now had to deal with the employment crisis, people not wanting to work, the rising cost of labor, inflation and the rising cost of everything, and nationwide inflation.  This year plus was challenging in an entirely different.  Staffing was at a crisis level.  Everybody wanted more money.  Managing through yet another crisis was exhausting.

Then it was October 7th.  The world changed.  My world changed.  For each of the prior crises they were business related and there was a way to manage through them.  While there were personal impacts of each, they felt temporary.  All three together had taken a huge toll.  October 7th was different.  It ripped to my core.  8 months later it’s still an open wound.  It’s still stressful with no end in sight.  I still worry about my friends and family and their children who are serving in the IDF. 

It’s been 7 ½ years of stress.  Not many breaks.  Not much time to rest and recover.  One thing after another.  I’ve had the good fortune to get to go to Israel five times during these 7 ½ years.  It was the spiritual salve I needed to survive.  This last trip in May was not only incredibly needed after October 7th, it also gave me the opportunity to really take a deep look into who I am, what matters to me, and what I am going to prioritize.  As Saul Blinkoff, our trip leader said to us, “What you will die for determines what you will live for.”

In the past few weeks since I have been back from Israel, this has resonated greatly for me.  There are some easy answers.  I’d die for my family.  I’d die to save the world.  There are also some clear other things.  I would not die for any material item.  If money got it or can replace it, it is not worth dying for.  But what about ideas and ideals?  What about values?  Would I die for freedom of speech?  For freedom of religion?  If I saw a bunch of people being attacked, would I jump in to save them and risk my life?  What if they weren’t strangers and were people that I knew?  What if they were clearly Jewish people being attacked because they were Jewish?  These are all real questions now.

While I’d like to say I would jump in regardless of who they are, I am not sure that I would.  If they were people that I knew, I think that I would.  What about if they were a group of Jews being attacked because they were Jewish?  Prior to October 7th, I probably would have called the police and not jumped in.  Today I would jump in.  I would risk my life to save a group of Jews.  It’s amazing how that has changed for me.  As a Jew, post October 7th, I do feel it is my responsibility and obligation to save other Jews.  While I don’t like the fact that I probably would only call the police if they weren’t people I knew or weren’t obviously Jews, that is also my post October 7th reality.  I have seen as the world has been silent when it comes to Jews.  My obligation, as a Jew, is greater when it comes to Jews because I don’t believe others will protect or save us. 

With IDF soldiers who are risking their lives to protect Israel, the Jewish people and me. They are babies and they inspire me.

What about a mass shooter or a terrorist?  Would I risk my life to save people in that situation?  Before October 7th, I probably would have said something like, “I like to think that I would but I’d probably hide and hope.”   After October 7th, I would fight.  I would risk my life.  I have watched my brothers and sisters in the IDF risk their lives.  I have seen those who have lost their lives.  Their bravery inspires me to do more.  I couldn’t live with myself if I stood by or hid and let terror win.

Rami Davidian, a farmer who saved 750 people on October 7th from the Nova Music Festival. This ordinary man is a hero. He stepped up when called. I have to do the same.

Would I die for the United States?  There was a time I would have said yes.  Not today.  Not with the rise of antisemitism and the weak responses to it.  This is not the country I grew up in nor do we follow the beliefs that I grew up with.  Equality of opportunity is false.  A country accepting of our differences is false.  I’m not saying I don’t love America or don’t want to live here.  I am saying I wouldn’t die for America because I don’t believe America wants to live for me.  As a Jew in America, I don’t think America cares about me.  America is an idea and an ideal.  Both are failing today.  I have always wondered how the Roman Empire, one of the greatest countries/empires ever, fell.  I see it in America.  I understand how the Roman Empire fell. I wouldn’t sacrifice my life for the fall of America.

This is a theme that I will continue to think about.  The stress and lack of normalcy in the past nearly 8 years have had a huge impact on me.  I’m not sure I really understood the impact until after October 7th.  This last trip to Israel has begun to clear things up for me.

We live in a world where things are valued.  Where hate is an acceptable way to deal with stress.  People don’t live with values, morals or ethics.  It becomes, “How do I get away with doing the wrong thing?” because it is financially beneficial or makes me feel better instead of asking, “How do I do the right thing” regardless of the benefit.   We trade time for money when money can be replaced but time cannot.  We miss out on our families because we value our title at work more than our families until we lose or the other.

My dad always taught us that family came first.  I believed it.  I preached it at every organization that I ran.  By the end, I found myself enforcing that for everybody in the organization instead of myself.  What a mistake.  As I experienced October 7th and learned of family of friends who were hostages or who were murdered, it made me value my family even more.  The combination of my father’s death and October 7th made me value time highest of all.  It made health just behind time.  It changed my choices and what I value.  There is no employment position that is ever worth dying for.  If that’s the case, that means there is never an employment position that is worth living for. 

The tombstone you will never see.

I love what I do today because I get to make an impact, work with people I like, on projects that are exciting, and we do things the right way.  I have the ability to take on projects that excite me and decline ones that don’t.  I can balance my time.  I’ve spent more time both working and being present than ever before.  It’s really cool.  I also have realized how unique it is.  That part makes me sad.

After Covid I saw people beginning to ask different questions about work.  I didn’t quite get it.  After October 7th I did.  I grew up in a generation that valued hard work.  That valued titles and money.  Gordon Gecko’s ‘Greed is Good’ speech was a rally call to my generation.

I was in college when Michael Douglas gave that speech as Gordon Gecko and it defined what we all wanted to be.  More was better.  Less not so good.  A big house was good.  A bigger house was better.  Two bigger houses was even better.  More, more, more.  And we only got that by sacrificing time.  October 7th reminded me that time is what is precious.  That if I am going to be greedy, I want it to be with my time.  I want the way I use my time to be meaningful and impactful.  The great Rabbi, Jim Valvano, in his farewell speech at the ESPYs in 1993 talked about the three things you should do every day. Laugh.  Think.  Cry. 

Laugh, Think, Cry. That’s a full day. “Rabbi” Jim Valvano (z’l)

That’s how I want to spend my days.  Days of meaning.  Days of fulfillment.  Days of joy. 

The great thing about life is that as long as we are breathing, we have the ability to do whatever we want.  We can make the changes that we want.  We can be the people we want to be.  If you want to be inspired to be better, to do better, watch the entirety of “Rabbi” Jim Valvano’s (z’l) final speech.  It never gets old for me.  It always inspires me.  And now it teaches me about the person I want to be in this lifetime.

“Rabbi” Jim Valvano’s (z’l) final speech in full. It always makes me think. It always makes me cry.

Sunday’s musical inspiration – Luke Bryan and Most People are Good.

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

It’s Sunday so time to let music be my inspiration.  This week it’s a song by Luke Bryan from 2017 titled, “Most People are Good”.  It’s an interesting choice since not long ago, inspired by Anne Frank, I was talking about how there aren’t enough good people in the world.  I’m honestly not sure if there aren’t enough good people or if they are just quiet and do good, or if the media just chooses to only focus on the bad.  Perhaps it’s a combination of all three. 

The lyrics are insightful and thoughtful.

I believe kids oughta stay kids as long as they can.  Turn off the screen, go climb a tree, get dirt on their hands. 

We live in a world where kids grow up way to fast.  I think back to my childhood where we played outside every day.  People had part time jobs for pocket money not as a primary goal nor to further our future careers.  We played multiple sports and had diverse groups of friends.  There was no such thing as “travel ball.”  My mom would make us take off not just our shoes but our dirty clothes in the garage before entering the house.  Times were simpler.  The only screens were TVs and VCRs were fairly new so you could try to tape a show if you missed it but our lives were not dominated by TV, the internet (didn’t exist), streaming services, etc.  We stayed kids as long as we could and that wasn’t a bad thing.  When I look at how my kids and their friends grew up compared how I grew up, it’s truly a different world.  We walked or road our bikes everywhere.  Our parents didn’t know where we were every moment of every day through tracking software on cellphones or texting.  Life was simpler.  I have done what I can to provide that for my children.  We have never tracked their location on their cellphones.  We encourage them to stay kids as long as they can because adulting is both hard and long.  Childhood is meant to be cherished and in today’s world, it’s now rushed through.  I worry about our future when kids aren’t allowed and encouraged to be kids.

I believe we gotta forgive and make amends.  ‘Cause nobody gets chance to make new old friends.

I consider myself lucky, in part because I have so many friends for more than 30 years.  Some are more than 40 years and others more than 50.  People who I grew up with.  People who I have known most of my life.  Like the song says, you can’t make new, old friends.  Many years ago, I learned to ask a very important question.  Would I rather be happy, or right?  Most of the time, I’d rather be happy and choose actions that provide happiness.  By choosing to be happy, I forgive and make amends.  My friends stay my friends and we get through the challenges that all friendships and relationships have.  Just this week I was talking to a friend from middle school and a friend from high school.  I am getting together with a high school friend today because she is in town.  These relationships are precious.  They span decades and go back to a simpler time with cherished memories.  In today’s world, we often let disagreements end friendships.  Life is too short.  Time is too precious.  What do I gain from ending friendships that have lasted decades over unimportant things?  I like that my children know my old friends.  I like that they tell my children stories from ‘the old days’, even when they are embarrassing and especially when they are funny. Here are just a few pictures of a few of them.

I just got to spend time with Jim, Ananda, and Anna Marie at our friend Jeremy’s wedding. It has been years for some of us yet it felt like no time had passed.

My friend Aric who tells my kids classic stories they often don’t believe. We became friends in 1988 and are like brothers.

My friend Todd who has great stories to tell my kids, also ones they don’t believe. We became friends in 1987 and talk at least once a week.

My dear friend Ron – we have experienced the ups and downs of life together for the past 30+ years.

Larry and I met in either 1984 or 1985. We still talk every week.

Jamal and I have been friends for 20 years. He always inspires me and I am humbled when he says the same about me.

Darryl and I have been friends since 6th grade. He is now a mentor to my son Evan. Who wants to try to make new, old friends when you have old friends like this?

I read a very interesting article about two friends in Israel who allowed their political differences to impact their friendship.  The impact of October 7th made them realize how important their friendship is and their disagreements politically aren’t a reason to not be friends.  That’s a real life example of this lyric. 

I believe in workin’ hard for what you’ve got.  Even if it doesn’t add up to a hell of a lot.

My grandparents and parents taught me early in life the importance of hard work.  They would often say that hard work is its own reward.  As a kid, this was hard to understand.  Hard work was to get a result.  It was to obtain things.  How could hard work be its own reward?

As I got older, I began to understand what they were talking about.  It is about having a work ethic.  It is about having values and living up to them.  It is having integrity and working hard because it is the right thing to do, not because you will get a specific outcome. 

The older I have gotten, the more I appreciate the things I have.  Growing up and into my 30s it was all about more, more, more.  The bigger house.  The nicer car.  More toys.  The newest technology.  Today I am grateful for what I have and often time realize that I would be just as happy, if not happier, if I had less.  There is value in appreciating what you have and not wanting more all the time. 

There is also another hidden message in these lyrics.  Often times we judge people based on appearance.  Based on the car they drive, the clothes they wear.  This line urges us to look at the person, not what or how much they have.  It reminds me of quote by the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. in which he said, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”  The color of their skin, the amount of money in their bank account, the type of car they drive, the clothes they wear – all have nothing to do with the content of their character.  All have nothing to do with the type of person and human being they are.  We need to pay attention to who people are based on their actions, not their bank account.

A brilliant quote from To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. We see what we look for.

I believe most people are good and most mamas oughta qualify for sainthood.

This is the line that I struggle with.  Not the second part but the first part.  In today’s world, are most people good?  Half the country hates the other half.  The rise in antisemitism is frightening.  We literally see Nazis in Central Florida every few weeks.  Sometimes in uniform, usually waving a big Nazi flag and chanting horrible things with awful signs.  In Nashville there was a Nazi march where people were chanting ‘Heil Hitler’.  This is not the 1930s in Germany.  This is 2024 in the United States.  Crime is up.  Instead of random acts of kindness, we see random acts of violence.  The rape, murder, and kidnapping of Jews on October 7th is acceptable only because they are Jews.  Calls for a ceasefire happen daily but these people don’t demand the release of the hostages, now in their 133rd day of captivity.  Too many good people are silent.  It seems that over the past few years the famous quote, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” was everywhere being said by everybody.  Yet after October 7th, these people went silent.  It seems there are daily demonstrations of the evil of humanity.  I look every day for signs that most people are good and yet most people fail the test every day. 

This was yesterday, 2 miles from my house. The hatred is real.
I never thought I’d see Nazi flags flying like this in my lifetime. This was February 17, 2024.
The growth of antisemitism is real. February 17, 2024 in Winter Park, FL.

It is a reminder to me that I can’t control anybody else.  I am only responsible for myself.  I can choose to be good.  I can do my part to make the world a better place.  I can choose to engage in random acts of kindness.  I can choose to fight against all hatred and stand up and speak out.  I can be an example and live true to my values.  Perhaps if we each take responsibility for ourselves, we will end up with most people being good.  At the end of the day, I’m not responsible for most people.  I am responsible for myself.

I love the line about most mamas qualifying for sainthood.  Being a parent is difficult and as I have watched my mom, my mother-in-law, and my wife, I see how much more difficult it is to be a mom.  I don’t know if it is societal expectations and training or something innate, but the differences between being a mom and a dad are significant.  I am ok with my children struggling – it’s part of life and learning important life lessons.  My wife wants to protect them from any struggles, it’s in her DNA as a mom.  We both love our children and want only the best for them.  We talked about this last night, and I was fascinated by the difference in our points of view.  So I agree with Luke Bryan – most mamas should be Saint Mama. 

I believe most Friday nights look better under neon or stadium lights.

As the parent of a high school football player, there was not much better than Friday Night Lights and watching my son play each week.  It was an incredible four years and six years after it ended, I still miss it. 

I can dig deeper into this lyric and go beyond high school football.  Growing up, Friday night meant Shabbat dinner.  It didn’t matter what I wanted to do before or after, we sat down as a family, often with guests, for Shabbat dinner.  My mom would light Shabbat candles, my dad would typically make kiddush, and one of the kids would say the Motzi.  No matter what, we were together as a family for Shabbat dinner.  When my son played high school football, that became our Shabbat dinner – together as a family, under the stadium lights, usually eating a hot dog or hamburger for dinner, and loving every minute of being together. 

Friday night, Shabbat, gives me the opportunity to set aside the business of the week and focus on the things that are really important.  Family.  Friends.  Spirituality.  Health.  Just like Friday Night Lights creates a special environment, Shabbat itself creates that opportunity, if we are willing to take it.   I fully admit that I am not a traditionally shomer shabbat person.  I do use Shabbat as a break from the week.  It’s the day that I get to refocus and recenter.  It’s the day I focus more intensely on family.   As a family of college football fanatics, Shabbat has been a traditional day where all four of us sit together all day watching college football.  When the kids were little, we all climbed into our bed.  Now that they are bigger than me, we watch in the living room.  It’s become a family tradition that is a break from the rest of the week. 

Friday night looks better under the neon or stadium lights because of the uniqueness they offer.  Friday night also looks better because of the uniqueness of Shabbat and the opportunity to, for one day, set aside the stress of the real world and focus instead on the smaller, more intimate world of family and friends.

I believe you love who you love.  Ain’t nothing you should ever be ashamed of.

It makes me so happy that a country singer wrote these words and sings it proudly.  Country music and fans of country music are often categorized as racist and homophobic.  To have a major country music star make this type of statement helps improve the world.  It says loud and clear that people are people.  Who you love is your business and nobody else’s.  And there is nothing wrong with loving whoever it is that you love.

Growing up, we had a tight group of friends that all went to Hebrew School together.  Most of us also went to the same public schools.  We remain close today and have a Facebook messenger chat group to keep in touch.    I remember when two members of our tightknit group came out.  It wasn’t a surprise to any of us.  We had known for years and years.  It didn’t matter because we love everybody in the group for who they are.  We celebrate all the diversity of our friends because of who they are.

My confirmation class – we stay in touch 40 years later.

In a song about most people being good, this line is so important.  Hate is simply unacceptable yet continues to grow in our world.  It doesn’t matter who the hate is targeting.  It can be the African American community, the LGBTQ+ community, the Asian community, the Muslim community, the Jewish community – hate is hate is hate.  We must stand together against all hate because those who live in hate will simply move their hatred from group to group.  Our power comes from standing together and strongly condemning all hate.  Not allowing it to fester and grow.  Hate is taught which means we can teach love instead of hate.  Just like Luke Bryan, I believe you love who you love and there is nothing to be ashamed of.  You are who you are and there is nothing to be ashamed of.  If we want to live in a world driven by love instead of hate, we accept people for who they are and appreciate all the differences each of us bring to our community and to the world. 

I believe this world ain’t half as bad as it looks.  I believe most people are good.

Despite some of my struggles with most people being good, I find this line inspirational.  Perhaps it is because he says it ‘ain’t half as bad as it looks’, recognizing that the world looks pretty bad today.  So much of why the world looks bad is because of what the media shows us. The saying, “If it bleeds, it leads” has become more than the truth, it seems it is now the mantra for the media.  We get shown the worst of humanity most of the time.  We live in our own bubbles where we don’t interact enough with people who are different from us.  We don’t celebrate our diversity and we don’t bother to try to understand others, instead we try to get them to agree with us. 

In 2019 I had the gift of participating on the Encounter Immersive Program.  This is a program that takes Jewish leaders to meet with leaders of Palestinian civil society for four days.  I remember thinking that four days seemed awful short.  After day 3, I was grateful it was only four days.  The tagline for Encounter is “Listen, Learn, Lead.”  And the program is really all about listening.  It’s about understanding a different point of view and perspective.  It’s not about trying to convince anybody of my beliefs but rather a chance for me to learn about their beliefs, their narrative, their story.  It was a truly fascinating experience that I wrote about earlier in this blog – you can find the many posts I wrote near the beginning of this site.  By listening, learning, and asking clarifying questions, I got a better understanding of the challenges in the region.  It wasn’t just the simple good vs. evil or mine vs. yours.  It gave me a chance to dig into challenges that have reframed by understanding.  It only strengthened my Zionism while also increasing my humanity and building bridges. 

If we can get beyond the surface answers and really spend time communicating – listening and learning – there is hope for the future.  Not just in Israel but in the United States and around the world.  There is so much clickbait and so many people only read the headlines without really understanding the details that it is easy to lose hope and only see the negative.  I truly believe that most of us want the same things, it is more about how we get there and how we find was to talk about it that are the key.  I think often of the stories of President Ronald Reagan and Speaker of the House, Tip O’Neill.  They would spend all day arguing policy and at the end of the day, they would go out together and get a beer.  How do we get back to the days when we focused on our similarities, not our differences?

So maybe the world really isn’t half as bad as it looks.  We can certainly hope and do our part, since it looks pretty awful right now.

I believe them streets of gold are worth the work.  But I’d still wanna go even if they were paved in dirt. 

My parents taught us all that results aren’t promised.  We can only do our part and put in the work.  That’s what they asked of us – put in the work.  I remember being happy in school getting an A- without any work and my parents being very upset.  I didn’t understand.  I remember working hard and only getting a B and they were happy and supportive.  That confused me as well – wasn’t the A- better than the B?  It took me a long time to understand that the value was in the work, not the result. 

As I got older and began to understand the importance of the work itself, I began to learn things like not having control of the results.  I can only do the work and put things in place for a likelihood of success.  There are too many other factors to make it my responsibility for the outcome.  The wisdom of Benjamin Franklin spoke to me when said, “If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail”.    One of my mentors, Rabbi Mark Kram, was famous for saying “Failure to plan on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.”   

Over the past years as I began to learn with a Rabbi, these thinking was reinforced again.  I have learned with many Rabbis and educators.  One common theme has been and continues to be that everything comes from God.  Our job is to the work, not determine the results.  Recently I was having dinner with my friend Harry Rothenberg, an attorney who is perhaps the best Jewish educator I have ever experienced.  I watch his video blog every week and learn something meaningful each time.  We were talking about how he had been stuck in terrible traffic and was going to be late to an event.  He didn’t have a chance to eat lunch and there was a great cocktail reception before the event with delicious food.  He was incredibly hungry and was going to miss the chance to eat.  He was getting frustrated.  He managed to make it to the event just as they were finishing clearing up the last of the food.  Disappointed and hungry, he sat down for the event.  At that time, he realized that the entire plan was one from God.  He made the event on time.   He arrived safely.  Sure he missed the food but he wasn’t going to starve.  He just missed the food.  In the meantime, he had missed the bigger picture of everything being God’s plan. He realized he needed to do better.

Harry and me after dinner and a great learning session. I love having him as a friend and teacher.

I was inspired by the story for two reasons.  First, if you are like me, you tend to get caught up in what is happening that minute and can lose sight of the big picture.  I can get upset because traffic means I will be late.  The person in front of me is driving slowly.  I didn’t get to eat lunch and am hungry.  All sorts of details that are happening right at that time but don’t really matter.  I lose the big picture that I I will arrive where I need to get safely.  That patience is a virtue.  That I won’t starve and have plenty of food, just not at that minute.  When I focus on the big picture, I get filled with gratitude.  Even if the roads are paved in dirt, they feel like they are paved in gold.

The second part of inspiration is the desire to do better.  There is always an opportunity to improve, to do a little more, to be a little better.  My spiritual advisor, Mickey Singer, would often guide me that life is a journey to be experienced.  We are here as a spiritual being, having a human experience, so experience it.  Realizing that we can improve, that we can be better, and doing the work required to do better really does make those dirt roads into gold.

I believe that youth is spent well on the young.  ‘Cause wisdom in your teens would be a lot less fun. 

How many times have any of us said, “If I only knew then what I know now…”?  Would we really want to know then what we know now? As a 16-year-old, would I really know and be able to follow through on things that took me 40 years to learn?  Would that knowledge ruin the childhood that I talked about above?  Would I be any better off knowing it then but not having the capacity or ability to really take advantage of it? 

Youth is for the young.  Our bodies are able to do more.  We have more energy and the lessons of the world have not been learned yet.  As somebody who grew up in the 70s and 80s, I look back with fond memories.  Not because I want to be who I was back then but because of who I was back then.  It was the only time in my life that I could be that person.  That I could have the freedom offered to the young.  No physical restriction.  No limitations because of the responsibilities of a wife and children.  No career to be concerned about. 

I think about friends who didn’t have the luxury of youth when they were young.  Financial insecurity.  Issues with permanent housing.  Unstable home life situations.  They were forced to grow up quickly and had far more wisdom at 16 or 20 than I did.  It comes at a cost.  I think of the children impacted by the war with Israel and Hamas.  They have far too much life wisdom now.  How many of them would trade all of this wisdom to go back to an October 6th world?

We live in such a fast-paced world now that kids don’t get a chance to be kids.  There is academic pressure that begins at an insanely early age.  I remember a few years ago talking to parents about their 2-year-old child in our preschool.  The child’s grandfather had already called Harvard about getting him on a wait list.  Let me repeat, the child was 2 YEARS OLD!  I think about the IB and AP courses my children took in high school and the academic pressure they faced.  In hindsight was it really worth it?  When I talk with them the answer is no – both would have been much happier doing a dual enrollment program or even taking regular coursework. 

Youth is for the young.  Let’s not steal it from them by trying to get them somewhere before they need to be there.

I believe if you just go by the nightly news, your faith in all mankind would be first thing you lose.

I stopped watching the nightly news a number of years ago.  Everything was negative and the national news was focused entirely on their own spin.  There is a reason there is no longer a news department and these programs are in the entertainment division.  It is far too easy to find a news channel that will reinforce your own beliefs or will make you hate those with different views. 

For a while I watched the CBS Sunday morning show because they only told happy and inspiring stories.  It made me realize that there are plenty of these stories available if you look for them.  We don’t have to be consumed with the negativity and lose our faith in mankind.  We can find the stories that inspire us.  That give us hope.  One news site I follow does a story every Sunday where they allow a reader to tell a story of gratitude where they get to highlight the kindness somebody else did for them.  It’s one of my favorite things to read because it reinforces faith in mankind. 

The nightly news can be toxic.  On October 7th, my friend the Consul General of Israel to Florida, told me to stop watching the news.  It wasn’t healthy to be so focused and so obsessed on the murder, rape, and kidnapping of Jews by Hamas.  I understood but also couldn’t stop.  When I watched the Hamas video of October 7th, many people asked why I would want to see that inhumanity and put myself through it.  I told them I needed to bear witness.  We have to be careful with what we consume as it shapes our reality.  I spend time talking with friends of mine in Israel, with friends who have had family members taken hostage – some have been released and some are still hostages.  I talk with people who are actively looking to change the world through their actions.  Medical research.  Summer camp for children.  People working with victims of terror to attempt to restore humanity.  Mentoring and coaching youth who need the guidance and support to have a better future.  Those working with pediatric hospitalized patients and seniors struggling with loneliness.  People focused on finding the light in the world amidst the darkness.

We can find our faith in mankind restored when we choose to see the beauty happening all around us and make an active choice to join in that beauty. 

I believe that days go slow, and years go fast.  And every breath’s a gift, the first one to the last.

As a kid, the days went slow, and the years seemed to go slower.  There was always something to look forward to.  Turning 10 and being double digits.  13 was Bar Mitzvah.  16 was my driver’s license.  Graduating high school and going off to college.  18 was voting. 21 the legal drinking age.  Graduating college.  Focusing on the milestones, time seemed to drag on as the next one was always so significant and exciting.   I remember when my oldest son was born and being told that now the days will go slow, but the years will go fast.  How true that statement became.  It seems like yesterday my sons were in preschool, taking naps, and I was reading them bedtime stories as we cuddled, never certain who fell asleep first, them or me.  Precious days and precious times.  My wife commented to me the other day how much she misses my older son who is now in Tennessee starting his career.  My youngest is still at home and we treasure the time because it goes too fast.  In a few months he will be a senior in college, and we will prepare for the next big change in our lives. 

I turned 56 in December.  I still feel like I am in my 30s most days and there are times I feel like I’m back in high school.  Yet 60 is around the corner.  I remember when my Uncle Joe died at 50 years old thinking, “at least he lived a good long life.”   I was 21 – what did I know?  As a kid, filled with youth and being young, time was plentiful and abundant.  Now it is the most precious commodity in the world.  We only get so much of it and then it is gone forever.

I first experienced this when my cousin Eric died in 1995 at the age of 27.  We grew up together and were like brothers.  My childhood is filled with stories of Eric and me.  One day he was here, vibrant, alive, with an incredible future.  Then he was gone.  I was blessed to know two of my great grandparents, all four of my grandparents, all four of my wife’s grandparents, and have great relationships with my parents and my in-laws.  My great-grandparents and all eight of the grandparents are now gone.  I treasure the time with them and appreciate all that I got.  My dad died in September 2022, and I miss him every day.  My cousin Todd, Eric’s younger brother, died tragically in 2015.  After Eric’s death, he became another little brother to me, and we had many long and deep conversations.  I had spoken with him a few days before he died.  Every breath truly is a gift, the first to the last.  And we are never promised the next one. 

Its still hard to believe it has been almost 30 years since Eric died

I can’t beieve it’s 8 1/2 years since Todd died.

Over the last two years I had a number of health issues.  I was still in the youth mindset of living forever and being indestructible, despite the clear signals that wasn’t true.  My dad dying was the point where I knew I had to make changes.  I lost weight, got in better shape, and tried to put better boundaries in my life.  Work life balance became much more important as I realized that I had taken more breaths in my past than I would in my future.  As these changes took hold and required significant life alterations, it really hit home when my mom said to me, “I was waiting for the call telling me you had a heart attack.”  That statement shook me to the core and still does today.  I’ve chosen to live my life differently as a result.  Each breath we get is truly precious, from the first to the last.  Why would want to waste a single one?

Who would have thought that a simple country music song would inspire a 5,000-word essay?  I guess the need for believing that most people are good is really that important.  The world we live in is so fraught with challenges that a simple believe in the goodness of people is essential and a given.  Let’s join together to change that.

The Sunday music inspiration

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

About 6 months ago I began subscribing to The Free Press.  The articles have been great and each Sunday there is a focus by Douglas Murray called, “Things Worth Remembering” that in year one focused on poetry.  I have to admit that for most of my life, poetry hasn’t been something that I really got.  Yet getting this weekly article about a specific poem that really dug into the words began to inspire me.  I went from glancing at it, to skimming it, to reading it and really enjoying it.  The Free Press announced that year two of the column will now focus on great oratory of the ages. 

I’ve also written about how behind I am with popular music.  So, as I catch up on music, I thought I’d imitate the Free Press and use Sunday as a day to be inspired by music.  Today’s song is from 2017, so I’m only 6-7 years behind the curve on this one.  It’s by Scotty McCreary and called ‘Five More Minutes”.  The words remind me of the past and inspire me for the future.

Eight years old, couple cane pole sittin’ down by the creek.  Lines in the water, watchin’ those bobbers, seein’ that red sun sink. Mama’s on the porch yellin’, “Supper’s hot! Y’all come and get it!”  We yelled, “Five more minutes.”

As a child, we played outside every day.  Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall, it didn’t matter how hot or cold it was, we were outside playing.  The rules were when the streetlights came on, we had to head home.  And every day, when the lights came on, we kept playing until at least one of our mothers who open the front door and yell at us to come inside for dinner.  And just like in the song, we would groan and beg for just five more minutes.  We never really wanted just five more minutes but that was what we asked for.  As an adult, I look back on those days with such gratitude.  We had no worries.  We played all sorts of games outside with everybody in the neighborhood.  The only worry we had was watching for the streetlights to turn on.  There are many days that I wish for just five more minutes of that childhood without the pressures of life.  As my children grew up, I wanted to give them to same type of experience.  While the world had changed and technology meant they weren’t outside all afternoon like we were, I still wanted to give them the opportunity to ask for just five more minutes.  I smile when it’s dinner time and my now young adult sons will ask for just a few more minutes to finish their game before they come to eat.

The joy of childhood is precious, and we lose it far too often.  While as adults we have responsibilities beyond coming home for dinner when the streetlights turn on, we can find our own ways to do the things that bring us similar joy to we experienced in childhood.  In the times we live in, bringing some childhood joy to our lives is critical to maintain our sanity.

At sixteen, it was 12:03, standin’ at her front door.  And Katie’s dad said “Midnight,” but we needed just a little more.  Yellow light flippin’ on and off interruptin’ that good night kissin’.  We wanted five more minutes.

As a teen, it was no longer just come in for dinner when the streetlights came on.  After dinner it was going out with friends.  First it was just in the neighborhood and as we got older and could drive, it was midnight and later.   It was exciting and thrilling.  The night brought lots of opportunities, especially with dating.  I remember many times sitting in the car or at the front door with the ‘goodnight kiss’, knowing that her dad was waiting inside to make sure she got home by curfew.  And like the song, we always wanted just five more minutes.   High school was all about the five more minutes of whatever we were doing, other than school.  Dating, parties, youth group conventions, vacations – we always wanted just a little bit more. 

When I look back, I find myself thinking about how to get that extra time with the things I love.  Going to sporting events with my kids, the theater with my wife, vacations with my wife and with the family, concerts, spending holidays together, and so much more.  I remember growing up hearing about how time was the most precious commodity we have and thinking how young I was and how much future was ahead.  In my mid 50s, with 60 around the corner, I look back and appreciate the way I spent some of my time and think of the missed time that I can never get back.  I treasure the time I got to spend with my grandparents and how integral all four of them were to me into my mid-20s and early 30s.  I think of my great-grandma Rose and the time I spent with her.  I think of my parents, my siblings (including my wife’s sisters and her family), my cousins, my in-laws, and my close friends. 

As I look at the next two decades of my life, I want to focus on that extra five more minutes with the people I love and the people who matter to me.  Time truly is the most precious possession we have, and I am grateful to be at a place in my life and with my career where I don’t have to sacrifice the time because of work, finances, or ego.  I want to remember what it felt like being a teenager when I treasured every minute on a date, while being out with friends, and with everything that I did.  Somehow when building a career and raising a family, these things get lost, and it is too easy to never recover them. 

Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times.  Ah, but they just keep on flyin’. Right on by like it ain’t nothin’.  I wish I had me a-, a pause button.  Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it.  And give myself five more minutes. 

As a kid, time seemed to drag on.  I remember being told that as I got older, the days would go slow and the years would go fast.  I didn’t believe it nor did I truly understand it.  I was young.  Invincible.  The future was mine and so much ahead of me.  I remember turning 30 and thinking how old I was, because I grew up in shadows of the ‘don’t trust anybody over 30’ generation.  I wanted a fast forward button, not a pause button.  Fast forward through high school so I could be independent and move away to college.  College was fun but I wanted to fast forward to building a career.  Being single was fun but I wanted to fast forward to getting married and having children.  Time was plentiful so why would I want to slow life down? 

My fraternity brothers at one of our formals. Truly the best of times that went way too fast.

My friend Aric, who is like a brother to me, and his now wife Carol Ann. We joke that if it was ‘my turn’ when we met girls that she would have been my wife instead of his. It feels like yesterday but it was more than 30 years ago.

High school. Hard to believe this was almost 40 years ago. It feels like yesterday. We lost my friend Ellen (z’l) in the Penn Sweatshirt and sunglasses last year. Time goes too fast. I’d like 5 more minutes with my friend.

How naïve we are as young people.  We think we are indestructible.  We think we will live forever.  We think nothing bad will happen.  I would love to go back and use the pause button as my grandparents’ beach cottage every summer with extended family.  I want to use the pause button on our family Thanksgiving touch football games and our family Passover whiffle ball games, especially when my grandparents would play in one way or another.  I’d use the pause button when we celebrated both sets of grandparents 50th wedding anniversaries on the same cruise and when we celebrated my parents 50th wedding anniversary on another cruise.  I’d hit the pause button on all the time I spent with my cousin Eric growing up together.  I’d pause my wedding and honeymoon.  I’d use it when my kids, Evan and Matthew, were little to get more of them as small children.  When I look at the pictures that we have of them when they were both under 6, I wonder where the time went and how it went so quickly. 

Family picture on my parents 50th anniversary cruise

My parents and their grandchildren as we celebrated their 50th anniversary.

The family in Curacao at the oldest synagogue in the western hemisphere. We had so much fun together celebrating my parents.

My cousin Eric and me at ‘the cottage’ cooking breakfast. We had amazing times together and at the cottage before his early passing. We had life plans that never happened.

While we don’t have a real life pause button, we do have the ability to treasure every moment and not miss them.  I think of driving Evan to Tennessee to start graduate school and his college football coaching career and how I treasured every minute of the drive, moving him in, and shopping for the things he needed.  I think of the times I went on college recruiting trips with Evan and when I took Matthew to visit and explore potential colleges.  Going to theater with my wife and Matthew, sporting events with Evan and Matthew, and our special fantasy baseball ‘Get Together’ weekends with our ICBL brothers each year and smile as the memories are vivid and I enjoyed every minute.  Recently I attended my friend Jeremy’s wedding and had the honor of officiating their marriage.  Every minute of the time we all spent together was special and treasured.  We have the ability to step back, slow down, and appreciate the gifts we have in our life.  Too often, we look back and realize ‘we missed it’.  I made the decision when my dad died that I wasn’t going to miss anything any longer.  It was the experience that taught me the importance of time and how to treasure it.  To live life as if there was a pause button so I appreciate all the moments.

Jeremy and me before the wedding. A memory I will never forget.

Evan, Matthew and me on the field before the game at Ben Hill Griffin Stadium during a recruiting vist to UF.

Alison, Matthew, Carla, and me at the Orlando Ballet’s performance of the Nutcracker. These are highlights we take advantage of while we can.

At eighteen, turned my helmet in and walked to the fifty-yard line.  Just the coach and me after we lost eighteen to nine.  And I cried, “Man, next time to get in here, I’ll have to buy a ticket.  Can’t you give me five more minutes?”

My oldest son Evan played high school football and started all four years.  We went to football camps together his last two years of high school.  As a family, we didn’t miss games and the opportunity to watch him play.  I’ll never forget his last high school football game as we walked the field arm in arm, as he was honored on senior night.  I’ll never forget the look on his face after the game, a big win, and the connection he had with his coach.  I remember the feeling I had at that moment, knowing I would never watch him play high school football again and that not only was his life changing, but mine was as well.  We stayed on the field after the game for a long time to soak up every minute we could.  And I remember thinking as we walked off the field how I wish I could have had just a little more time, just five more minutes, of that experience as it ended forever.  When he told me that he had decided not to continue playing college football and instead wanted to start his coaching career early, while he was in college, I was devastated.  He was fine with his decision and didn’t regret ending one stage and moving onto the next step in his career.  I wasn’t ready.  I was looking forward to watching him play, to celebrating his achievements, and struggled with the way it was changing my life.  I was still able to watch him coach at UCF and then in high school and with the semi-pro Orlando law enforcement/first responders’ team.  It was still an awesome experience, but a very different one.  As he started his professional career coaching college football, it was an incredible experience watching him coach. 

Evan and Coach Carter sharing emotion after his final high school game. 

Evan and Coach Carter. A great mentor

Evan tackling as a freshman. His first tackle ever was NBA star Dejounte Murray.

Family picture on the field after his freshman season

Evan played in the band at halftime 3 of his 4 years of varsity football. This was a classic – we need more cowbell! Matthew is in the back as they played in the band together.

Evan in uniform at UCF

Evan in the locker room before the game

Evan with his conference championship ring. A forever treasure.

Evan snapping in practice. He was a great long snapper.

Evan with the UCF conference championship trophy. What a memory
Evan as the head coach of the Orlando Guardians of the National Public Safety Football League. They played teams like FDNY and the Chicago Fire Department. 

Watching Matthew, my younger son, graduate high school was another seminal moment.  I would now only have kids in college.  Attending his graduation, Magna Cum Laude, from Seminole State, was an incredible experience. When he graduates UCF in another year, I will no longer have any kids in college.  It’s another major life transition and when he moves out of the house as well, I know I will want 5 more minutes of kids living in my house.  It’s another reminder of how precious time is and how important it is not to waste the time we have.

Matthew graduation night – he graduated Magna Cum Laude, truly impressive. 

I was invited to the White House Hanukkah party in 2022. Matthew came with me and we had a great time. Another special moment we will both remember forever.

At eighty-six, my grandpa said, “There’s angels in the room.”  All the family gathered ‘round, knew the time was comin’ soon.  With so much left to say I prayed, “Lord, I ain’t finished.  Just give us five more minutes.”

My dad died on September 6, 2022.  I had gotten him moved to Advent Health about three weeks prior and my mom moved in with us while he was in the hospital.  I visited him every day while he was in the hospital and got to spend quality time with my mom every morning and evening.  Those three weeks are precious to me, both for the time I spent with my dad and the time I spent with my mom.  When I think of them, I tear up, because they were some of the most meaningful days of my life.  I look back at some of the pictures from those three weeks and smile with a mixture of happiness and sadness.  My dad eating real food I had delivered when he got out of ICU into a private room – I can still hear him talking about how good it was because the hospital food was so bad.  The picture of him and my mom walking hand in hand in the hospital hallway.  They were married for 56 years and together for 65+.  The last picture I took of my dad, lying in his bed, with a sweet smile on his face.  I remember kissing him goodnight, telling him I loved him and would see him in the morning.  My mom got the call from the hospital around 1:30 am that morning that he had died.  We went to the hospital together and sat with him, just the three of us, while we waited until it was not too early to call my brother and my sister as well as my Aunt Sheila, his sister.  Writing about it brings tears to my eyes once again.

When I look at this picture, I can hear my dad’s voice talking about how good the food was and how much he enjoyed it. I’m forever grateful for the opportunity I had the last 3 weeks of his life.

My mom and dad walking the hospital hallway. So many special moments during those 3 weeks that I will treasure forever.

The last picture I took of my dad. He looked so sweet and peaceful. I gave him a kiss, told him I loved him and that I’d see him the next morning. He died a few hours later. Every time I look at this picture it brings tears to my eyes. How I wish I could have 5 more minutes.

As we sat in the room with him after he had died, I remember wishing I just had one more chance to talk with him, to tell him again how much I loved him, to be able to ask his advice and hear his wisdom and knowing that would never be possible.  I wanted those five more minutes.  I have no regrets with my dad, I just wanted more.  I wanted those five more minutes.  And today, there are plenty of times when I want to pick up the phone and call him, talk for five minutes, and pick his brain and get his advice.  Once again, it’s an example of the precious nature of time. 

I choose to invest my time with my family.  With my sons, my wife, my mom, siblings and siblings-in-law.  I want to do my part to ensure that when the time comes, my children have no regrets.  They don’t wish they had just done something more with me.  They don’t regret missing out spending time together. 

Celebrating my mom’s birthday with the family. I don’t miss these opportunities.

The family celebrating Alison’s 50th birthday

Dancing with my mom at a family Bar Mitzvah. 

I think of the lost time with my family members who died too young.  My Uncle Joe. My cousins Eric and Todd.  I think of the time missed with my friends who have died in the past few years and how they won’t be around any longer.  I always think of my dad, who died in September 2022, and who I miss daily.  We have no guarantees in life, and we get to choose our priorities.  I’ve reached a place in my life where my priorities have shifted.  It’s far more rewarding to do what I can to minimize the impact of wanting those five more minutes at the end. 

Yeah, sometimes this ol’ life will leave you wishin’.  That you had five more minutes.  Five more minutes. 

Priorities are the key.  We live in a culture that values money, status, and titles.  We often sacrifice things like time with family and friends in our effort to make money, obtain a better title, or because our identity is tied to our job.  In the end, like the song says, those priorities “will leave you wishin’ that you had five more minutes.”  Our society puts pressure on us to meet their priorities.  Over the past 18 months, since my dad got sick and then died, I have been reviewing my priorities.  Asking myself what is really important.  What do I really value?  It’s been a complete reset in many areas.

October 7th only highlighted this even more.  I have seen the 47-minute Hamas video and it’s horrifying.  I have four friends who had family members taken hostage.  Of the 6 hostages, 4 have been released.  There are still 2 held by Hamas, now for 126 days.  I have friends who lost family members at the music festival.  Friends who lost family serving in the IDF.  Friends who are serving or have children currently serving in the IDF, worried every day about their safety.  I wear my dogtags every day.  My Magen David (star of David) every day.  I put a new piece of masking tape on my shirt, over my heart, every day, updating the number of days the hostages have been kept. 

Besides being a great song, Five More Minutes teaches an important lesson.  It reminds us that in the end, all we really want is more time.  No matter how much money we may have, no matter how much power and influence we may have, no matter what our titles are or what we have accomplished in our careers, the one thing we all want is just five more minutes. At the end of the day, we have the choice to set our priorities.  I choose to do what I can to want, but not need, those five more minutes. 

Fast Times, Memories, and Lessons (plus Happy Sylvester)

Posted on by Keith Dvorchik

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.