People: Senator Edward Kennedy 1932 ~ 2009

The last time I had the privilege of interviewing Senator Kennedy was in a coat room at a hotel in Boston, one cold Saturday night late last winter.

He and his wife Vicki met me there before his brief appearance to present a community service award, so that I could interview him in person for my public radio story about the perennial need for more federal heating assistance funds to help low-income Massachusetts residents stay warm.

Photo from the Office of Sen. Kennedy

The Senator was home from Washington just for that night and his schedule was packed, but his press secretary told me Kennedy wanted to find five minutes to talk to me for my story, which he thought was an important one, however perennial.

I asked him what it’s like to go back to the Capitol every winter and make the case for more money to help more poor people, and he said, “it’s a never ending battle. I feel my job is to continue to battle to try to make some progress.”

I’ve interviewed Senator Kennedy several times during my 7 years as a reporter, and I’d heard him say almost the same words on other occasions.  I might as well have asked him about any of the myriad moral imperatives that he literally spent himself addressing during his long tenure in politics.

He was, in a word, tireless.

In that closet, cramped among strangers’ coats, this historically and physically monumental figure sat across from me, his huge, broad shoulders hunched forward, and he continued, “Elected members of Congress [and] the President make decisions in terms of priorities; either you have a priority to look after working families or you have a priority to look after the wealthy and special interests, and the special interests have had the day.”

When I turned off my recorder I asked him if sailors would see him on Nantucket Sound for the Figawi sailing race that spring.  I’d survived one leg of the race several years earlier and remembered seeing him at the helm of his wooden-hulled schooner.  He laughed and said it was going to be up to his wife.  She laughed too.  Two and a half months later his doctors diagnosed his brain cancer.

He raced in the Figawi anyway, a few days after that, and in the coming months he spent what must have been precious waning energy to return to the Capitol and cast an unexpected vote on medicare legislation, and later on the economic stimulus bill.

Photo from the Office of Senator Edward Kennedy

And in what I think it’s fair to call his final, and one of his greatest heroic acts, he helped shepherd our nation’s first black president into office.  It gives me chills to imagine what that meant to him, nearly a half-century after Congress passed the Civil Rights Act that his brother, President Kennedy, fought so bravely for.

This man’s vigor always struck me as extraordinary, considering that it was his daily burden to shoulder his family’s heavy history, which contained some of the brightest and darkest moments in his country’s history.

Photo from the Office of Senator Edward Kennedy

In 1986, after he gave his niece Caroline away at her wedding, Jackie Kennedy wrote her brother-in-law a thank you letter that read, “On you, the carefree youngest brother, fell a burden a hero would beg to be spared. Sick parents, lost children, desolate wives. You are a hero. Everyone is going to make it, because you are always there with your love.”

I think it’s safe to say that millions of Americans share Jackie’s deeply personal sentiment and gratitude for Senator Kennedy’s advocacy.  He made mistakes in his life, and could understandably have shrunk from the limelight.  Instead he stood up, spoke loudly and eloquently for those on the margins who have no voice in our society themselves, and accomplished great things on their behalf.

He did this work with the drive of a penitent man who also seemed intent on accomplishing in their place what his brothers might have, had they too lived out their careers.

However he was drawn into politics and public life, and in spite of what he called the faults in the conduct of his private life, from were I’ve stood Senator Kennedy has always seemed real – flawed and admittedly fallible, yet forgivable – and ultimately, as Jackie said, heroic.

Things: Surprise in Story

When I pitch story ideas to the various news outlets I report for, one word that comes up a lot during conversations with my editors is “surprise,” an essential, but often elusive ingredient of the successful story.

In any form of storytelling, surprise is like the baking soda in a classic chocolate chip cookie recipe; the dough might look good and even taste good without it, but if you don’t add enough or forget to add the baking soda altogether, the cookies will ultimately come out flat and forgettable.

By definition, surprise sounds simple enough:

But “unexpected” is the key word; finding new story ideas that the listener/reader/viewer does not expect can be extremely challenging.

For example, a lot of reporters who are looking for new ways to cover our country’s current economic trials end up re-telling the same stories using this tired formula:

the recession + (blank*) = a story

*chiropractors, campgrounds, caterers, etc.

The problem with a lot of the stories that follow this formula is that whatever goes in the blank is often something the listener would expect to be the case during a recession, so the story comes as no surprise to them.

By contrast, here are two examples of recent news stories that, in my opinion, got it right:

NPR ~ For Some Pilots, Home is an LAX Parking Lot: Commercial airline pilots have created a city of trailers and RVs in a parking lot along the edges of the nation’s third busiest airport.

New York Times ~ Living in Tents, and by the Rules, Under a Bridge: Other tent cities have sprung up recently around the country, but Rhode Island officials have never seen anything like this.  The community… established a five-member leadership council and a compact that read in part: “No one person shall be greater than the will of the whole.”

My family members come to me with a lot of good story ideas, but more often we won’t be talking about story ideas at all, and they’ll mention things they saw or heard in passing that are far more surprising.

This mystifies me!  Maybe the difference is in my journalism training and their lack thereof, or in their own low opinion of their storytelling judgment – I don’t know.  But this phenomenon makes me wonder what incredible untold stories are flying around out there in the world, waiting to be recognized and shared.

If you spot one, please drop me a line.

People: Charles Kessler Jr., In Memorium

With my Uncle Chuck at Pheasant Acres Campground ~ Oct. 2008

Charles C. Kessler Jr., my Uncle Chuck, died this week after a long fight against cancer, about a month shy of his 69th birthday.

“Towsy” as my mom called him, lived peacefully with his wife Diana for the better part of two decades at Pheasant Acres, the campground he owned in Missouri’s Ozark Mountains.  They moved there from Washington state after he did some soul-searching and decided that he wanted to retire in a peaceful place like the farm he worked on in his teenage years.  He’d been around the world during his service in the Air Force, and when he found his niche in the rolling forests of St. James, MO, he said that there was nowhere else on earth he’d rather be.

I visited him there last fall during my road trip around the United States, and it struck me right away how content he seemed.  I thought of Thoreau’s words:

I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.  I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.

I don’t know many people who can say the same thing.  I think my Uncle Chuck could.

After living with what he said was a big ego for most of his life, when he got to Missouri he gave himself “a check-up from the neck up” and sought to live with more grace and humility.  He forgave some people he was holding grudges against, and tried to be a better person himself, easier to get along with.

He was diagnosed with cancer in 2004, had an operation, and when it came back in 2007 his doctor told him it was not treatable, and he had about a year to live.  He decided to keep battling his disease with prayer, homeopathic remedies, and a healthy lifestyle.  He truly believed that he was on a path to “total recovery” with his faith to guide him.  Considering his lack of any medical treatment options, he had nothing to lose.  His own mostly holistic treatment methods bought him some time, and when his time came, he passed, I’m sure, the way he wanted to go.

Not long after the cancer returned, I asked him if he would consent to doing some taped interviews with me about his life.  He protested a bit at first because he didn’t understand why I was interested in his memoirs.  Moreover, he wasn’t the most expressive, loquacious man I knew, but he ultimately agreed.  I think he was pleasantly surprised at how much he enjoyed our conversations, and the fact that I was recording them, as he said, “for posterity.”  He’d always meant to start keeping a journal of some sort, but never did get around to it, so he supposed this audio diary would suffice.

He told me all about his life, and at the end of what amounted to more than five hours of talking, I asked him what advice he had for younger folks – his kids, me, his grandkids, etc. – after all his years.  “The hard part about a death sentence,” he said,” is it’s the people you leave behind who hurt.”

He didn’t like the word advice, and preferred instead to share some key reflections: “You should keep it simple.  When we try to make things complex in our lives, when we try to have reasons for everything, it’s not a good thing.  We need to just let life take us where it’s going to take us.  You’ve got to create inner peace somehow.  You’ve got to be at peace with yourself, the world, and especially with God.”

In other words, practice being content.  My mother, Chuck’s sister, says this to me on a regular basis, and I think it’s a good suggestion regardless of how much people differ in terms of what makes us content.

My Uncle Chuck believed that fear is a good motivator, that it can be inspiring.  I asked him if he was happy, and he said, “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my whole life.”  He also told me he wasn’t afraid to die, and he had God to thank for that.

I do not share my uncle’s deep faith, but regardless of our spiritual differences, I have learned much from his example of how to live a good life:  pursue with determination those things which give you inner peace and contentment, and whatever purpose for which you believe you were made.

Goodbye Uncle Chuck.  Thank you, and may you rest in peace.

Things: Frozen Dessert Nomenclature

Photo by Susie Bauer

I just got home from a brief visit to Milwaukee, where I had the pleasure of tasting frozen custard for the first time, at a charming establishment called Leon’s.

Locals boast that Leon’s makes the world’s best frozen custard, and they proudly recall that Bill Clinton insisted on stopping there whenever the campaign trail brought him through town.

(And all this time I thought cheese and beer were Wisconsin’s big draws…)

Indeed, Milwaukee also seems to be the unofficial “custard capital of the world”.

But from what I can tell, this frozen delight was first concocted on Coney Island in 1919 or thereabouts (though there’s evidence of earlier iterations).

Leon’s has been around for more than 50 years, family owned and operated, its proprietors serving as “consultants to the frozen custard industry since 1942.”

Photo by Susie Bauer

In addition to the standard midwest drive-in fast food fare, Leon’s serves malts, shakes and three frozen custard flavors daily – vanilla, chocolate and butter pecan – and one special feature flavor that changes every day.  I ordered a scoop each of vanilla and chocolate, and fell in love at first bite.

(Nice price too, just over $6 for 4 sizeable servings.)

Before long I got to wondering how frozen custard is different from ice cream.  Come to find out, its culinary specifications, at least in this country, are stipulated by federal law:

Frozen custard shall contain 1.4 percent egg yolk solids by weight of the finished food: Provided, however, that when bulky flavors are added the egg yolk solids content of frozen custard may be reduced in proportion to the amount by weight of the bulky flavors added, but in no case is the content of egg yolk solids in the finished food less than 1.12 percent.

Can’t you just picture those nerdy federal foodies haggling over egg yolk solid percentage points?  (For some reason, in my imagination, they’re wearing hair nets…)

Read on through their fine print (see paragraph f, section 1, “nomenclature”) and one learns that custard is a.k.a. “french ice cream”.

French?!?  Interesting…  I’ve also tasted something similar in Sienna, Italy.

Regardless of where frozen custard came from, Milwaukeans insist that theirs is some of the world’s finest.  I look forward to conducting many taste tests, the world over, to weigh their claims.

People, Things: Dollars and Sense… and Doggie Slippers

There was good news and bad news about the economy yesterday…

The bad news first: our economy shrank 6.1% in the first quarter of 2009. Yikes!!

Now the good news: consumer spending, which accounts for 70% of our GDP, rose at an annual rate of 2.2%, the most in two years.

So, you might wonder, what are we spending more of our hard-earned money on?  Apparently, consumers are snapping up long-lasting “durable” goods, including cars, furniture, household appliances… as well as (wait for it) pet products.

Mila (on her L.L. Bean dog bed $89.99, with Kong $11.99, yellow bone $6.99, rope toy $6.99)

The American Pet Products Association estimates that pet owners will spend an approximate $45.4 billion on our furry friends in 2009, $2.2 billion more than last year.

Giant pet supply companies are – gasp – posting earnings and opening new stores!

I spend between $75 and $100/month on food and a few toys for my black lab, Mila (age 1 1/2), and that’s when she doesn’t visit the vet!

But I have the sneaking suspicion that the APPA is not talking about food and a few toys, and I have evidence to support my theory.

My boyfriend’s dog has a congenital pēdal condition that, on occasion, results in sores between the digital pads of one of his hind feet.

He needs to wear a shoe to protect the whole foot, and he’s worn out several elastic-cuffed, leather-bottomed, velcro-strapped “boots” over the past few months.

His need for more formidable footwear gave me occasion to google “pet footwear” and I can report copious canine options, ranging the from seriously sturdy…

Bark'n Boots with Grip Trex from Ruffgear.com - $55

to the utterly absurd…

Um... fuzzy bunnies?! From PetEdge.com - $7

Don’t worry folks, if your dog doesn’t like bunnies, these also come in sheep and duckies, and for the holidays, santas and elves!

"It's a ball within a ball that rolls and wobbles erratically as your pet lunges, chases, and chomps." Petco.com

I think pet spending is an interesting trend, at a time when many, many people are supposedly cutting back!  I’ve reduced my monthly expenditures to my bills, food, gas, laundry detergent, contact lens solution, and dog food.

OK, full disclosure, yesterday, I spent $11.99 on a new braided rope toy for Mila, but it was NOT the fancy version with the minty floss (which costs another $5 bucks).  Last year at this time I regularly bought her new Kongs (she destroys them in a week), Nylabone rings (these can last longer), some tennis balls for her Chuck-It, and I probably would have sprung for the minty-floss rope toy too.

And I’ll admit I was tempted to get her a Jolly Pet Teaser Ball (see picture, right), which I walked past on my way out of Petco yesterday. The premise behind this product had me daydreaming about being able to leave the two dogs outside for hours, unattended and unmonitored, without worrying that they’ll dig holes to China all over the yard.

But the price – $22.99!!!  Plus Mila would probably get so frustrated with the “ball within a ball” after five minutes of trying to figure it out, that in classic retriever fashion she’d dismember it inside of thirty seconds.

But I digress…

There’s something disturbing about the pet spending boom;  APPA President Bob Vetere says, and the aforementioned duckie dog slippers show, that one of the main factors behind this trend is society’s overall humanization of pets.   Dog pajamas?! Dog bathrobes?!

Now, to each their own; I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but come on!  Terry cloth with a hood?!

The APPA’s Vetere also cites an increasing number of empty-nest baby boomers who “have had their children leave home and move on, and they are looking for something else to care for.  Lo and behold, there’s Spike. He never talks back and doesn’t take the car out late at night, and it’s like, ‘I love you, Spike.’ This is a new child to hover over.”

And to garb in chiffon party dresses! 

In fairness, pet products (Kongs and diva dog dresses alike) account for the second highest percentage of consumer pet spending, and veterinary care comes in third.

Number one is the price of pet food, which Reuters reports rose 13.5 % during just the last quarter of 2008.

The APPA predicts Americans will spend a record breaking $17.4 billion on pet food this year, up from $16.8 billion in 2008.

My guess is that the tainted pet-food fiasco of 2 years ago scared a lot of pet owners into switching to premium food brands with identifiable ingredients made closer to home.

I think the bottom line is that pets are a comfort to us, especially in tough times, and it’s clear that we’re grateful, whether the gesture comes in the form of a ball within a ball, internet sale price $11.99, or a canine “cuddle couch” also on sale at BeyondTheCrate.com for $1029.00.

Things: Some Thoughts On Time’s Flight

Tempus fugit; a fact indisputable of a thing irretrievable.

The seasons, to me, are portraits of time’s passage.

It is the second of two “stick seasons” this month, here in New Hampshire.  The first one comes after the leaves fall in October, and the world turns grey, ever colder and darker as we await winter’s white peace.  The second arrives in April when the ground is grey again, the precursors to splendor just beneath its surface.

Dynamic portraits of time’s flight, the seasons.

Here’s a static one I found this week while doing some spring cleaning:

me, circa 1983

and, a favorite poem on the subject:

TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME
by Robert Herrick

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.
That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may go marry:
For having lost but once your prime
You may for ever tarry.

Things: Last Ditch Efforts

The media is getting desperate… especially non-profit media.

If you thought Ira Glass embarrassing freeloaders during fund drives was effective, now High country News is getting aggressive too.

The CO-based publication, founded in 1970 by a Wyoming rancher and environmentalist, claims 25,000 subscribers and says its website gets 60,000 visitors each month.  Its independent, research-driven reporting is paid for by reader donations, grant support, advertising and syndication sales.

But these revenue streams must be drying up, much like the west, as HCN has launched a somewhat fatalistic multimedia fundraising campaign.

Check out this video, which cautions potential donors that “the future of journalism is in your hands” (I can’t embed the video so you have to click on the link).

Do you agree with this grim scenario?  How does this video make you feel?  Obligated? Indifferent?  Have you ever read High Country News?

Do you think the non-profit media will survive the current industry-wide attrition?

Things: Why Story Is Important

A few weeks ago I attended a forum on filmmaking where the only speaker worth noting, screenwriter Barbara Nicolosi, expounded on the importance of story.  The gist of her excellent talk, as I understood it (and I’m still processing), was that great stories help us make sense of our lives, and on occasion live them better.

One inevitability of our time that I often struggle to make sense of is violence.

Here’s a snapshot of the BBC’s Middle East front page this morning:

Do you see it?  “Bomb Attack Near Iraqi Shia Shrine”  and to the right of that, “Villagers Hurt in West Bank Clash”.  Violence is so much a part of our daily lives, especially for me as a journalist, that I sometimes find myself reading past it in the headlines.  These days we can escape its scourge with the click of a mouse, and thankfully there’s plenty of good news just a website away.  But the violence doesn’t stop, and I think it stays with us regardless of whether we stop to register it, haunting us because we don’t understand.

Here is an example of where story becomes important.  Over the past few months I have been watching excellent TV programs in my ongoing study of the art of storytelling, screenwriting in particular.  One of them is Aaron Sorkin’s seminal political drama The West Wing, which ran on NBC from 1999-2006.  The show won 2 Golden Globes and 26 Emmy awards, a tie for the most Emmys ever won by a TV series (with the program Hill Street Blues, a show penned by David Milch which is next on my must-see list).

I’m up to season 5, and last night I watched the episode titled “The Dogs of War” which gave me occasion to reexamine the concept of violence as a cyclical exercise.

Pictured: (l-r) John Spencer as Leo McGarry, Martin Sheen as Josiah Bartlet, and John Goodman as Glenallen Walken (NBC, Warner Bros. Photo)

At this moment in the show, President Bartlet has invoked the 25th Amendment to relinquish his presidential powers because his daughter is missing and, in effect, he can’t think straight.  She’s feared to have been kidnapped by terrorists from the fictional Middle Eastern country of Qumar in retaliation for the administration’s newly disclosed assassination of suspected terrorist Abdul Shareef, a member of the Qumari royal family.  (After 9/11 the show set Qumar at the center of its terrorism subplots.)

The FBI doesn’t know who kidnapped the President’s daughter, but as the hours pass the decisionmakers’ composure weakens, and military options are discussed.  Bartlet’s temporary replacement, Congressman Glennallen Walken, orders the bombing of several Qumari terrorist training camps, during which six American soldiers are killed.

I can’t seem to find a clip of the scene I’m looking for on YouTube, so the script will have to suffice:

CUT TO: INT. – RESIDENCE – HALLWAY – DAY

Leo is walking down the hallway toward the residence. He walk through the doors, past Charlie, and into the next room.

BARTLET
We started this, Leo.

LEO
This isn’t about Shareef.

BARTLET
You’re right; it’s not. It’s about our allowing situations in these countries to develop in the first place.

LEO
I’m not gonna let you do this.

BARTLET
We choose the order and certainty of petty despots over the uncertainty and chaos of developing democracies.

LEO
Shareef ordered the assassination of women and children. He wasn’t a nationalist or a fledgling Democrat. He was a cold-blooded murderer.

BARTLET
Six more American boys are dead.

LEO
And that doesn’t make you angry?

BARTLET
[yelling] Of course that makes me angry! [pause] “The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral. Returning violence with violence only multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.”

LEO
Dr. King.

BARTLET
I’m part of that darkness now, Leo. When did that happen?

LEO
Dr. King wasn’t wrong. He just didn’t have your job.

FADE OUT.
END ACT TWO

It’s not that I didn’t know before I saw this scene that violence begets violence;  rather, I understood from a new perspective some of the reasons why this spiral starts in the first place.  I can think only that this was story doing its thing to help me process something that, thankfully, I have rarely experienced first-hand.

Granted, this is TV drama, but for 7 years it brought us into the White House Situation Room or the Oval Office to witness a portrayal, made realistic at great pains, of our leaders’ decision-making process, which results in the kinds of headlines we see daily.  The show hired former high level White House staffers from both parties as consultants, including Marlin Fitzwater (Reagan, Bush) and Dee Dee Myers (Clinton).

In a 2006 news article, Fitzwater said, “It was very realistic, and that’s why people liked it.  They wanted to see good government. They appreciated people who were trying to do the right thing for the right reasons. That was common to both parties.”

It’s difficult to articulate what came together for me, watching this episode, but it happens a lot with The West Wing.  The show will end and I’ll sit back in awe as I find myself back in my own comparatively boring reality, stirred to thought, and often debate, by what I’ve just seen.  Good story adds to our perspective in small, but important ways, giving us something we can use in our own lives later.

Have you had a similar experience after taking in a good story?  If so, please leave a comment.

In the meantime, here’s the entirety of the Dr. King passage President Bartlet quotes from:

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral,
begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy.
Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it.
Through violence you may murder the liar,
but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth.
Through violence you may murder the hater,
but you do not murder hate.
In fact, violence merely increases hate.
So it goes.
Returning violence for violence multiplies violence,
adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness:
only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Things: The Cost of Turning 30

In my case, so far it’s $42.24 per month… and my birthday is still two months away!

Every year around this time I get a letter from my health insurance company informing me that my premium will increase on my birthday.  I find this year’s communication particularly humorous.

It starts out thanking me for being a “member” given the myriad other insurers there are to choose from.  Nice try, softening the blow, but I know what’s coming…

Next the company tells me how hard it’s working to keep my costs down, but, you know, more people are going to the doctor these days, and taking more prescription drugs, and then there’s all that pesky, expensive new technology…

And there it is, my introduction to age-related inflation.  This year’s jump of $42.24 per month is double the hike I paid when I turned 29!

Next, the company tries to comfort me with the fact that others can commiserate:

Well, I feel better already!  And it turns out there’s more to cheer me up:

…except come up with another $42.24 per month, or $506.88 over the next year!

No problem, because the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services says after I turn 30 I should consume 200 fewer calories per day.  That’s got to be good for at least ten bucks off my weekly grocery bill!

Maybe there’s a silver lining to all this, and I’ll finally be able to lose those pesky five pounds!

Things: Goodbye Winter

The changes of season might be my favorite facet of life in New England.

This year I saw the first sign of spring’s arrival when I sat down with my morning coffee near the kitchen window, and noticed the daylight was softer, somehow, and warmer. Next, the wind lost its hard edge, and now the birds are coming back.

Today it’s over 40 degrees outside, and sunny, and what’s left of our snow is melting away here in the White Mountains.  As an audiophile I take annual delight in hearing this transition from winter to spring.

It’s gentle at first as the rhythmic dripping of melting ice and snow; next comes a more sprightly babbling as brooks and streams come back to life; then the rivers swell as the mountains shrug their frozen coats.  Finally the vernal pools come to life with peepers, a sound that instantly transports me back to childhood, when my mother would take my sister and brothers and me on evening drives past Campton Pond, windows down, to listen for the whistling froggies.  (Those two words, by the way, were the first I ever spoke.)

My dog Mila and I enjoyed a white Christmas this year, while I was home for a few days between adventures.

This year I was out of the country for most of the winter, after spending Christmas in New Hampshire, so I missed the hardest, coldest part of the season.  Many reasonable people would be justified in calling me mad for lamenting this, but there’s something about making the annual slog through those dark, frozen, quiet months that calms my spirit.

This year I spent January and February well south of the equator, and my internal calendar is still off as a result, so a part of me is sad to see the season go.

Turns out I’m not the only one…

On a recent broadcast of the PBS NewsHour, essayist Julia Keller said a reluctant goodbye to winter in a lovely video postcard.

Click here to listen to the audio portion of her essay.

The piece came on toward the end of the broadcast, as I was making dinner, and I started out paying attention to it only peripherally.  Then the writing caught my ear, as did the images of winter stillness, and before I knew it I was entranced.

Unfortunately the video postcard doesn’t seem to be available, but I highly recommend listening to the podcast version, or reading the transcript, as you bid winter your own farewell.