Aging Gracefully

I called my Aunt Lil, my father's sister, this week to wish her Happy Birthday on her ninetieth birthday. Many of us have relatives and friends in this age category if not older, but she is an astounding specimen in my opinion. First of all, she has never worn glasses, used a cane, had hearing or speech problems, neither has she suffered from hereditary diseases, loss of mental faculties or degenerative illnesses. In fact, she has never taken medication. She is certainly as lucid as anyone I know and maybe even more so than myself. She takes care of herself and her home in Atlanta, where two of her daughters share the house with her. She is as feisty as ever and still amazingly beautiful for a woman of any age.

When we spoke she said to me, “I went to see my doctor recently for a physical, and he told me he had to speak with me. And I thought to myself, ‘What’s wrong with me now?’ ” In her slight twang from Kentucky, that she hadn’t quite lost even after living in Japan and in the northeastern US for years, she continued, “Well Gleenn…he told me to come into his office and sit down. Then he said, ‘Mrs. Tackett…as you know I have been a doctor for many years…and so I have had many patients that are in your age group. However…I have NEVER had one that did not have at least something wrong with them that I had to attend to.’ She chuckled, "He then said, 'I can’t even offer you any medication because there’s nothing wrong with you.’“ Then she burst out laughing, me right along with her, about as happy and proud as I could be.

This kind of dovetails with what she said when I saw her about five years ago. She had told me about how once a doctor had given her some medication to take. After her return visit to him, she told him “’I don’ like takin' medicine.” The doctor asked her ‘Why?’ and she said, “I don' like how they make me feel…and then you run out and have to refill them all the time.” To which he said, ’Well, here is a larger prescription so that you don’t have to refill them that frequently.” She went on, “So I took the prescription, and when I got outside, I tore it up, threw it away and never went back. That was over twenty years ago.” Though I hope I have her genes, she is one of the few of her siblings that are still alive, so my goal is to take on the attitude that it is at least a possibility to live healthily into my nineties.

Our relationships with our doctors are partnerships where, if everyone does their part, to the best of their abilities, the results can be stellar. I often think of my doctor as a mechanic diagnosing the vehicle I call my body. He does the tests and inspections and shares with me what our options are. If I’m lucky, the recommendations will be mainly dietary or physical exercise, and in some cases, he may suggest medicines that maintain its ongoing balance and operation. There have been times in my life when the fuel and motor oil I've imbibed were less than useful nutritionally or times when additives I consumed were actually harmful. Over time I became aware of the general decline that comes with age and made corrective changes, like tuning up my chassis with yoga. Some of us are driving vehicles, like Aunt Lil’s, that just seem to hum along in relative ease, no matter what we do or how long they run. Others might feel like they have gotten lemons, that require patching, from time to time, getting a few more hundred miles out of it before the next time a tune up is needed.

In any regard, it is our spirit the drives the body, and gives it a reason to get to where it has to go. And like our mobile conveyance, so too, the spirit itself requires maintenance…like peace and quiet, rest and relaxation, love, affection and creative stimulation… in order to be a vital power source. In these pursuits we must be our own doctors and know when to give these things priority.

Versailles Models Remembered

Back in the day, like every young "fashionista", living for everything fashionable, we talked endlessly about fashion designers, models, photographers and illustrators, from our lofty perch at the WWD art department. With a front seat to everything new and cultural on the horizon, we were consumed with the impending showdown at Versailles...where five young fashion forward designers and their coterie of black models were throwing down the gauntlet to French counterparts, in November of 1973. The brainchild of Eleanor Lambert, the event changed the dynamics of the fashion world, by casting the American designers as creators of youthful style and energy. The distinguishing crux of this turning axis was the inimitable verve of the sashaying young black beauties, that re-calibrated that moment, in fashion, into what the future of beauty and style would become. Billie Blair, Alva Chinn, Pat Cleveland, Norma Jean Darden, Barbara Jackson, China Machado, Bethann Hardison, Charlene Dash, Ramona Saunders, Jennifer Brice and Amina Warmsuma - wearing Stephen Burrows, Oscar De La Renta, Halston, Anne Klein (Donna Karan was her assistant then) and Bill Blass - waltzed down that runway and into fashion history. Knowing they had won the contest between the American and French design houses, but unaware of how much they had truly recast the nature of the business, they soon found themselves and others on every runway and fashion magazine in the world, bringing cultural diversity and vibrancy to life, everywhere.

The historic significance of that moment was celebrated in high style at the Metropolitan Museum, through the tireless efforts of Donna Williams, our hostess and Chief Audience Development Officer, along with Thomas Campbell and Harold Koda. The light filled setting for the luncheon in the Temple of Dendur brought together style setters, designers, writers, journalists, celebrities and artists who shared an appreciation for these beautiful pioneers and what they had done. The American spirit was alive in the room, and reminds me of what we are capable of doing when the odds are against us. In a time when women of color were not considered among the beauty standards in fashion, the unexpected act of showcasing them as such, jolted the mind and filled the senses of the unsuspecting audience. America's ability to surprise the world with the new and different is a national strength that cannot be underestimated and is a boundless source of inspiration for others. As Oscar De La Renta remembered of that moment, "We were one that day." And as ONE, our ability to win is increased.

Donna Karan, Iman, Liya Kebede, Veronica Webb, Renauld White, Jason Wu, Ruben and Isabel Toledo, Sam Fine, Lynn Whitfield, Kathryn Chenault, Cicely Tyson, Veronica Webb, Audrey Smaltz and Soledad O’Brian were among the celebrants.

ABC Evening News feature on event.

What makes a person memorable?

What makes a person memorable? Is it the way they look? Or the way they sound? Is it what they say or don't say? Or is it what they have or don't have? Is it what they make you do or don't do? Or is it how they make you feel? What is it that causes us to hold onto the memory of those that leave us for a period of time or for good? We need to ask ourselves these questions because we will be left to the memory of others someday, and there will be no chance to prepare, alter or fix how that memory will be held.

From the moment we are born we begin creating the memory of who we are. That essence reaches out to the world, fashioned on our dreams and realities. Throughout life, others will attach their dreams to your reality, and give you the responsibility, in some cases, if those dreams do or do not materialize. The memory we leave behind is often based on how others perceive our role in advancing or inhibiting their lives. While we are alive, we have the ability to form our residual memory, for better or for worse. However, the moment we transition, that memory becomes the province of others, who will select the elements to illuminate. How we make someone feel is what will percolate to the top, and hopefully, we made them feel good.

The sad and unrelenting transition of our vibrant friend, Bill Freeman, on January 15th, as we flew in from Rio, hit us like dense turbulence from above, as we made our way back into our lives here. Left only are the memories of how he made us feel. How that warm smile broke out across his face whenever he saw us. How he warmly and respectfully introduced us to many people who are our dearest friends today. How he shared of himself, with a generosity reserved for kings. How his bountiful spirit was infectious, and one took up the cause of helping others just by being around him. Bill was on everyone's invitation list, not because he knew so many people, but for his gift of bringing them together. I remember running into him at a fundraiser, where I didn't know a single person, and through his many introductions, I left feeling like it was the best party ever. Many of us know the act of adjusting our plans to be available for one of Bills intimate dinners, for fifty of his dear friends, on the Vineyard. He could be counted on to be at weddings, christenings, birthday parties, openings and closings. He was there to give healing encouragement at one's bedside and to hold your hand through difficult times. He would be front and center, near or far, to honor a friend who had transitioned before him. He supported young and old alike, and could be counted on to be there if needed. These are the memories that he has left so many of us...and many of us do not know where we will turn without him.

Like so many of us, he could be faulted with human foibles....but those are not the things to remember about him, because that would say more about us than him. To pick apart the "rights and wrongs" of a person's life, is a favorite sport, when a person leaves us and are no longer there to protect, form and create their memory. We can, in our highest selves, embrace the best of the memories we have of others, or we can devolve into the temporal sport of debasement...the choice lies within us. One's memory lies in our hands once they have passed on, a role and responsibility we cannot take lightly. What makes a person memorable is what we chose to remember...and what we will be remembered for, as well.

Taking time, gives time

Huddled in the shade of the vine covered entrance to the restaurant, named Ramma, along with a long line of customers, patiently waiting to pay for the health conscious fresh food, we just had for lunch, I fumed with irritation about how slow every transaction in the steamy metropolis of Salvador, Bahia, seemed to take. The lovely preparation of diverse offerings, that I had relished only moments ago, had faded with the onset of my New York impatience. Calmly listening to my piqued rumblings was my luncheon companion, Carson Phillips, who had just engineered the signing of a contract, to have my work represented in Brazil by the famous Paulo Darze Galerie. A followup meeting the next morning with the noted David Bastos architectural firm, required a presentation in Portuguese be prepared in the waning hours of the day.

My hubris in thinking I had no time to waste in a line, where the single smiling cashier, engaged in polite conversation with each customer before me, should have faded in the quiet calm that existed all around me. I remember thinking that Salvador would be a better place if its residents were more conscious of others' time, if they would cut some of the red tape and layered processing and conformed to a more American model of efficacy. In my mind, a New York minute would not hurt the city one bit.

That was until I got to where my CD had to be assembled and printed and found that none of the files could be opened because of an incompatibility in software. After many tries, including running back home to retrieve my own computer and re-formatting every image three different times, we finally found a solution. After struggling with the issue for over three hours, the calm leisurely attitude, I had complained about earlier, turned out to be a cultural Godsend on that late hot summer afternoon. The tech guy, never grew impatient or bothered by the time it took to make it work. As the sun disappeared and the evening lights and sounds came alive, it made me realize something very important....patience is a grace you give others that makes your own life easier. My laments about how long things took, has been replaced with an appreciation of how the Brazilians spend time with friends, neighbors and passersby, sharing moments of joy that creates a sense of community and continuity with all.

We have had many opportunities to see the beauty of life in Salvador this trip. Now we are in Rio visiting friends. Below are a few photos of our time in Brazil.

Sparkling possibilities

As the crescendo of sparkling lights exploded and lit the black sky, in the warm crest of the night in Salvador, Bahia...and then dissolved into the breaking waves below...the struggles of 2010 melted away in the euphoria of marking the end of one period of time and the beginning of a new one. The sudden bursts of lights and its climax caused me to reflect on the challenges that reared up suddenly and consumed so many in the previous year. It seemed as soon as one fire was extinguished another flared up. In our day-to-day lives we carry on from one project to the next, filling time, space and emotions with efforts that carry us on in an unending stream of solutions, implementations and results. Yet, just as one ends another begins and the sense of finality eludes us in these ever evolving pursuits.

However, the New Year's Eve celebration allows for the one moment in time, each year, where even previously started works take on an new air of opportunity. A freshness of purpose and perspective fills even these lingering projects with a burgeoning sense of new possibilities. The diet and exercise plan that had fallen on less-disciplined times is taken up with a new commitment, the career that seemed to sputter is re-engaged, romances that may have slipped into resignation can be ignited and our systems and processes can take on new reforms. Man, woman, businesses and governments alike, mark the change in time in a way that daily leaves of times are not afforded. The accepted end of one phase for the potential of a next phase fills us at this time of year, providing hope that may have gotten lost along the way.

The New Year's celebration is less about fulfilling the dreams of others, as the preceding Christmas holiday seems to be and more about the fulfillment of one's own dreams. We are reawakened around what can BE for us...with each jolt of cascading light that fill our consciousness, we are reminded to reach for the spiraling and lofty ambitions dreams are made of.

Taking on this moment, I look forward to the fulfillment of the person I was sent to this earth to be...a completely gratified, satisfied and grateful spirit.

"Thank you" for....

I routinely start each day saying "Thank you" for the smallest of things that exist in my life. A seemingly small expression that barely points in the direction of what I truly feel when I am happy with something. Being able to give gratitude for all that I am aware of, fills the space where doubt and fear could easily grow."Thank you" for the good night's sleep that has given my body rest and new dreams to live for. "Thank you" for the full breath I have just inhaled, that comes from fresh air, swirling through trees, mountains and seas to fill my lungs. As I stand up for the first time today, I am thankful for the steadiness of spirit that allows me to rise on strong legs and well taken care of feet, that has taken years of effort to achieve.

It can be so easy to sow doubt, within ourselves, about what isn't working in our lives and in our country. So, today, as to not dwell on what can go wrong, I say "Thank you" for all that is....being careful not to assign labels of right or wrong. Individual perceptions oftentimes have us bestow positive or negative qualities onto life's events, when in reality, our reactions to them are what gives an event its' quality. Being able to adjust to changes allows us to make the most out of the things we cannot control nor influence. The present is always bright, when we do not weigh it down with fears of the past projected onto the future.

"Thank you" for the friends that want your friendship...and ask you for nothing more than for you to be your authentic self. "Thank you" for the ability to unearth that authenticity within and to allow it to be shared with those who love you....and knew, before you did, of its existence. "Thank you" for the love of family members, whose destinies are karmically aligned with our own, and foreseen before birth.

Primarily, on this day of expressed Thanksgiving, I say "Thank you" for the unison that Joe and I move in tandem with, whether awake or asleep, near or far, with or without, because it occurs by our own volition, without demand, much as a circle flows into its beginning. "Thank you" for that flow that begins with one and ends with the other, for the legs that supports the weight of the other and for the thought that gives rise to an action in the other.

We celebrate this day at the home of our generous friends, Walter Allen and Brian Leister, in Easthampton, shared with dear friends that have supported our dreams for more years than any of us care to count. The commemorative friendship feast is being deliciously prepared by the professional chef in our family, Dennis Williford, with his usual taste, skill, jocularity and joie de vivre. And finally, "Thank you" for taking the time to read these thoughts and giving thanks of your own.

Old Friends

“Old Friends…Old friends…..
Sat on the park bench like bookends… A newspaper blows throw the grass…falls on the round toes..of the high shoes..of the Old Friends…” as sung by Simon and Garfunkle.


I am having lunch today with a friend that, until two weeks ago, when he sat down in the barber chair next to me, I hadn’t seen or heard of since the early seventies. I would not have recognized him at all except for a hauntingly familiar gaze that sat fixed in his expression as he peered into the barbershop mirror. I searched my memory bank to determine where I knew that look from and it suddenly hit me that it was very similar to that of a young man that influenced the most essential part of my early maturity, the need to be honest and to be myself. Still unsure whether the provenance of that stare existed in the man that sat next to me, I forced my memory to chisel away at the years of experience that now formed his facial features and the weight of living that now smothered his once muscular frame. I suddenly realized the indelible physical elements of our existences are carved in our smiles, voices and the way we peer at things. All else is subject to change, except for the possible non-physical elements, like humor, or lack of it, or our practical sensibilities, or lack of it.

The benefit of being around friends, family and lovers for years on end is that we grow accustomed to the ever-changing transformations that age affords us. We don’t see the wrinkles and girth that bespeak our experiences with any crystal clarity, but take them on, as we do our own, with minimal resistance. We share diets, health clubs and moisturizers, all the while fighting the same battle that we gradually lose anyway, but with an adjusting eye to our own and others ‘improvements’. Yes, improvement is the right word because beauty in its full bloom is the most beautiful of all. And who is to say that in the autumn of our years the serene glow of stalwart survival isn’t as gorgeous a beauty to behold as any other. The charm of a blemish free face cannot compare with one etched with character, full of a life’s expressions. Though a toned body, of any age, still holds a greater appeal, than one that speaks of neglect, a bald patch or silver hair on the top of the head has become very appealing to my ripened eyes, as they relent to the irrepressible seasoning of the body, and I ultimately appreciate that success in living is to be still living at all.

As the guy got up to leave, his barber said, “See you next week, Mike”, and I knew it was one in the same man from my early days. Using the technology of today’s youth, I Googled him and found him on Linkedin and emailed him to verify the encounter at the barbershop. I look forward at lunch today, to having a shared reminiscence about our youth and the ensuing years that followed, and the still relatively youthful dreams of tomorrow.

Postscript:
The crooked smile, that had always generated a deep warmth within me - when I reflected on it - greeted me as I walked into our meeting place. The look in his eyes and the sound of his voice - that I had yearned to see and hear since encountering him two weeks earlier - catapulted me, for the briefest of moments, back to the time of a fantasy remembrance of what we shared. But, in as quick a moment as it takes for reality to set in, those indelible characteristics reformed around the lives that had altered the both of us. Our experiences had subsumed the fantasies we may had carried of a lost time and we left one another with an updated reality of the struggle and luck we've had in life. The hazy romantic reminiscences of what might had been - that we all carry about - crystallizes in the actuality of what has BECOME.....old friends bridging a gap in time...