At 2:00 pm on August 31, 2001, the Public Broadcasting System (PBS) aired the final original showing of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. After more than 30 years of greeting youngsters each day on television with his trademark "Hi, Neighbor," Fred Rogers, host and creator of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, put away his cardigan and sneakers for the last time.
This week, the world took pause to recognize the 50th Anniversary of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, which first aired on February 19th, 1968.
Today, a customer called me on the telephone, and he was in pain. He complained about tension, stress, and worry.
I prescribed a family vacation at the beach.
Today, a customer e-mailed me, and she was tired. She complained about her workload and lack of quality time with her family.
I prescribed a family vacation in the mountains.
When I type my next destination into my GPS, the navigation guidance system speaks a familiar content and tone through the car speakers:
At 2:00 pm on August 31, 2001, the Public Broadcasting System (PBS) aired the final original showing of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. After more than 30 years of greeting youngsters each day on television with his trademark "Hi, Neighbor," Fred Rogers, host and creator of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, put away his cardigan and sneakers for the last time.
This week, the world took pause to recognize the 50th Anniversary of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, which first aired on February 19th, 1968.
It has been another long week. Your job, overall, is going well. The job pays the bills, provides benefits for the family and allows you to save something for the future. But at times, the job takes its toll on life outside of work. Yes, there are times when you have missed your child's sporting events, or it's been over a month since you have been out with your friends. And there was that time the you almost scheduled a business trip on your wedding anniversary or missed wishing your mom a "Happy Birthday." But overall, you feel you have managed well over the years to achieve a good work/family balance.
However, this is not the case for Steve and his son Billy. It's 8:30 PM as Steve finally arrives home. Eight-year-old Billy, Steve's "best buddy," is in his pajamas and ready for bed. Upon hearing the door open, Billy runs to see his Dad.
It has been another long day. Your job, though it is professionally rewarding and pays the bills, take its toll on life outside of work. Yes, there are times when you have missed Billie's games, the opening of Susie's school play, and you almost scheduled a business trip on your wedding anniversary, but you feel overall you have managed pretty well over the years to achieve a good balance between work and family.
It's 8:30 PM as you walk in the door. Eight-year-old Billie, your "best buddy," is in his pajamas and ready for bed. Upon hearing the door open, he runs to see you.
Just before sunrise on the Fourth of July, an old man and an army veteran walked into his front yard carrying a neatly folded American flag.
His granddaughter hurried beside him.
"Pop-Pop," she asked, "why do you always raise the flag before everyone else is awake?"
He smiled as he carefully attached it to the halyard.
"Because some things deserve our first thoughts, not our leftovers."
Together, they slowly raised the flag. As the first rays of sunlight touched the stars and stripes, it caught the morning breeze and began to wave.
This morning, I was searching frantically for my car keys.
I checked the kitchen counter where I always leave my keys
I checked my pockets
I checked my backpack
I even checked between the couch cushions in the living room.
“JoMaire (my wife), where are my keys?”
“Your keys are where you left them.” (said with a laugh)
I was sitting in my home office chair yesterday, trying to send a simple e-mail to a friend from my phone.
I hit "send."
I waited.
The little circle on the screen just kept spinning—round and round.
no connection
no service
no "bars
I made a cup of coffee this morning.
Not a fancy latte
Just regular drip coffee
With some cream
I set it on the counter.
I checked my e-mail.
I answered a text message.
Showered, shaved, and dressed for work.
Driving in my car to work, I remembered that cup of coffee that I left on the counter.
"Professor, I need to talk to you about my grade."
The young man stood at the edge of my desk, clutching his syllabus like a shield.
"Okay, have a seat," I replied. "What seems to be the concern?"
"I got an 85 on the final project. I need at least a 92 to keep my A."
I was sitting in my office very early in the morning. I love the mornings! The office is quiet, and my computer and the smell of coffee are my sole companions. My phone was sitting on the table, face up.
Suddenly, a tiny red circle appeared in the corner of an app.
The red dot was small
The red dot was silent
The red dot was persistent …
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, tell me the future, and that's not all;
- I want to know what will come next;
- I want to know the who, when, and how.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why do you not speak; tell me the answers to the questions I seek!
- What makes one strong and another weak?
- What makes one strive for greatness and another accept mediocrity?
I have a box of memories.
Shining, bright, and bold.
I have a box of memories.
Some warm, some very cold.
The psychiatrist and theologian writer Gerald May speaks of a person he knew in one of the poorest psychiatric wards in New York, a young woman named Karen who sat alone day after day without responding to anyone who spoke to her. Every day, one of the maintenance men, Mike Foster, would sit at her side, eating his lunch and chatting with her even though she showed no response. One day, as John prepared to leave with his usual, “See you tomorrow, Karen,” she answered, “See you tomorrow, Mike.” A year later, she left the hospital and lived an everyday and happy life.
There is a missing piece of pie served at my Holiday Feast, and I’m not sure why.
Did someone sneak into the refrigerator last night for a midnight snack?
Did someone skip the ham and go straight to dessert?
Maybe someone dropped the pie and returned what was left to cover their tracks?
Just before sunrise on the Fourth of July, an old man and an army veteran walked into his front yard carrying a neatly folded American flag.
His granddaughter hurried beside him.
"Pop-Pop," she asked, "why do you always raise the flag before everyone else is awake?"
He smiled as he carefully attached it to the halyard.
"Because some things deserve our first thoughts, not our leftovers."
Together, they slowly raised the flag. As the first rays of sunlight touched the stars and stripes, it caught the morning breeze and began to wave.
This morning, I was searching frantically for my car keys.
I checked the kitchen counter where I always leave my keys
I checked my pockets
I checked my backpack
I even checked between the couch cushions in the living room.
“JoMaire (my wife), where are my keys?”
“Your keys are where you left them.” (said with a laugh)
I was sitting in my home office chair yesterday, trying to send a simple e-mail to a friend from my phone.
I hit "send."
I waited.
The little circle on the screen just kept spinning—round and round.
no connection
no service
no "bars
I made a cup of coffee this morning.
Not a fancy latte
Just regular drip coffee
With some cream
I set it on the counter.
I checked my e-mail.
I answered a text message.
Showered, shaved, and dressed for work.
Driving in my car to work, I remembered that cup of coffee that I left on the counter.
"Professor, I need to talk to you about my grade."
The young man stood at the edge of my desk, clutching his syllabus like a shield.
"Okay, have a seat," I replied. "What seems to be the concern?"
"I got an 85 on the final project. I need at least a 92 to keep my A."
I was sitting in my office very early in the morning. I love the mornings! The office is quiet, and my computer and the smell of coffee are my sole companions. My phone was sitting on the table, face up.
Suddenly, a tiny red circle appeared in the corner of an app.
The red dot was small
The red dot was silent
The red dot was persistent …
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, tell me the future, and that's not all;
- I want to know what will come next;
- I want to know the who, when, and how.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why do you not speak; tell me the answers to the questions I seek!
- What makes one strong and another weak?
- What makes one strive for greatness and another accept mediocrity?
I have a box of memories.
Shining, bright, and bold.
I have a box of memories.
Some warm, some very cold.
The psychiatrist and theologian writer Gerald May speaks of a person he knew in one of the poorest psychiatric wards in New York, a young woman named Karen who sat alone day after day without responding to anyone who spoke to her. Every day, one of the maintenance men, Mike Foster, would sit at her side, eating his lunch and chatting with her even though she showed no response. One day, as John prepared to leave with his usual, “See you tomorrow, Karen,” she answered, “See you tomorrow, Mike.” A year later, she left the hospital and lived an everyday and happy life.
There is a missing piece of pie served at my Holiday Feast, and I’m not sure why.
Did someone sneak into the refrigerator last night for a midnight snack?
Did someone skip the ham and go straight to dessert?
Maybe someone dropped the pie and returned what was left to cover their tracks?
Just before sunrise on the Fourth of July, an old man and an army veteran walked into his front yard carrying a neatly folded American flag.
His granddaughter hurried beside him.
"Pop-Pop," she asked, "why do you always raise the flag before everyone else is awake?"
He smiled as he carefully attached it to the halyard.
"Because some things deserve our first thoughts, not our leftovers."
Together, they slowly raised the flag. As the first rays of sunlight touched the stars and stripes, it caught the morning breeze and began to wave.
This morning, I was searching frantically for my car keys.
I checked the kitchen counter where I always leave my keys
I checked my pockets
I checked my backpack
I even checked between the couch cushions in the living room.
“JoMaire (my wife), where are my keys?”
“Your keys are where you left them.” (said with a laugh)
I was sitting in my home office chair yesterday, trying to send a simple e-mail to a friend from my phone.
I hit "send."
I waited.
The little circle on the screen just kept spinning—round and round.
no connection
no service
no "bars
I made a cup of coffee this morning.
Not a fancy latte
Just regular drip coffee
With some cream
I set it on the counter.
I checked my e-mail.
I answered a text message.
Showered, shaved, and dressed for work.
Driving in my car to work, I remembered that cup of coffee that I left on the counter.
"Professor, I need to talk to you about my grade."
The young man stood at the edge of my desk, clutching his syllabus like a shield.
"Okay, have a seat," I replied. "What seems to be the concern?"
"I got an 85 on the final project. I need at least a 92 to keep my A."
I was sitting in my office very early in the morning. I love the mornings! The office is quiet, and my computer and the smell of coffee are my sole companions. My phone was sitting on the table, face up.
Suddenly, a tiny red circle appeared in the corner of an app.
The red dot was small
The red dot was silent
The red dot was persistent …
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, tell me the future, and that's not all;
- I want to know what will come next;
- I want to know the who, when, and how.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why do you not speak; tell me the answers to the questions I seek!
- What makes one strong and another weak?
- What makes one strive for greatness and another accept mediocrity?
I have a box of memories.
Shining, bright, and bold.
I have a box of memories.
Some warm, some very cold.
The psychiatrist and theologian writer Gerald May speaks of a person he knew in one of the poorest psychiatric wards in New York, a young woman named Karen who sat alone day after day without responding to anyone who spoke to her. Every day, one of the maintenance men, Mike Foster, would sit at her side, eating his lunch and chatting with her even though she showed no response. One day, as John prepared to leave with his usual, “See you tomorrow, Karen,” she answered, “See you tomorrow, Mike.” A year later, she left the hospital and lived an everyday and happy life.
There is a missing piece of pie served at my Holiday Feast, and I’m not sure why.
Did someone sneak into the refrigerator last night for a midnight snack?
Did someone skip the ham and go straight to dessert?
Maybe someone dropped the pie and returned what was left to cover their tracks?
Just before sunrise on the Fourth of July, an old man and an army veteran walked into his front yard carrying a neatly folded American flag.
His granddaughter hurried beside him.
"Pop-Pop," she asked, "why do you always raise the flag before everyone else is awake?"
He smiled as he carefully attached it to the halyard.
"Because some things deserve our first thoughts, not our leftovers."
Together, they slowly raised the flag. As the first rays of sunlight touched the stars and stripes, it caught the morning breeze and began to wave.
This morning, I was searching frantically for my car keys.
I checked the kitchen counter where I always leave my keys
I checked my pockets
I checked my backpack
I even checked between the couch cushions in the living room.
“JoMaire (my wife), where are my keys?”
“Your keys are where you left them.” (said with a laugh)
I was sitting in my home office chair yesterday, trying to send a simple e-mail to a friend from my phone.
I hit "send."
I waited.
The little circle on the screen just kept spinning—round and round.
no connection
no service
no "bars
I made a cup of coffee this morning.
Not a fancy latte
Just regular drip coffee
With some cream
I set it on the counter.
I checked my e-mail.
I answered a text message.
Showered, shaved, and dressed for work.
Driving in my car to work, I remembered that cup of coffee that I left on the counter.
"Professor, I need to talk to you about my grade."
The young man stood at the edge of my desk, clutching his syllabus like a shield.
"Okay, have a seat," I replied. "What seems to be the concern?"
"I got an 85 on the final project. I need at least a 92 to keep my A."
I was sitting in my office very early in the morning. I love the mornings! The office is quiet, and my computer and the smell of coffee are my sole companions. My phone was sitting on the table, face up.
Suddenly, a tiny red circle appeared in the corner of an app.
The red dot was small
The red dot was silent
The red dot was persistent …
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, tell me the future, and that's not all;
- I want to know what will come next;
- I want to know the who, when, and how.
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, why do you not speak; tell me the answers to the questions I seek!
- What makes one strong and another weak?
- What makes one strive for greatness and another accept mediocrity?
I have a box of memories.
Shining, bright, and bold.
I have a box of memories.
Some warm, some very cold.
The psychiatrist and theologian writer Gerald May speaks of a person he knew in one of the poorest psychiatric wards in New York, a young woman named Karen who sat alone day after day without responding to anyone who spoke to her. Every day, one of the maintenance men, Mike Foster, would sit at her side, eating his lunch and chatting with her even though she showed no response. One day, as John prepared to leave with his usual, “See you tomorrow, Karen,” she answered, “See you tomorrow, Mike.” A year later, she left the hospital and lived an everyday and happy life.
There is a missing piece of pie served at my Holiday Feast, and I’m not sure why.
Did someone sneak into the refrigerator last night for a midnight snack?
Did someone skip the ham and go straight to dessert?
Maybe someone dropped the pie and returned what was left to cover their tracks?
"This makes absolutely no sense!"
I dropped the screwdriver onto the living room rug and stared at the pile of wooden boards, screws, nuts and a crumpled instruction booklet.
My wife, JoMarie, walked into the room.
"How is the new bookshelf coming along?" she asked with a slight smile.
“I am totally frustrated! Tab A does not fit into Slot B."