Happiness. It's relative.
I love Lake Superior and the U.P. more than a person should love a place. I love this place like I would love a person which only some people will understand. Scatter me on the rocks.
We went to the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point today. We have been there before but not for a long time and, I have to admit, as long as it’s been since the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in 1975, I teared up looking at the ship’s bell that was retrieved in 1995.
One of my great instincts is knowing when to quit something. I quit a job I loved with all my heart because the new boss was corrupt and, while I grieved for it a good while, I made a good life professionally afterward. And I just quit being president of the board of an organization I love with all my heart because the time was right and the next president was the person needed. I’m good at quitting. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t sting but experience tells me good things are in store.
My daughter was just named Rising Star CEO in a very big city. She runs a quite large nonprofit organization and is a weird combination of humble and ambitious and funny and compassionate. She’s also beautiful. So, that’s all very wonderful.
I love really good customer service. The cashier at the grocery in the U.P. very gently put the freshly baked hot dog buns in a plastic bag and said to me, “I won’t let nothing hurt your buns.”
I totally get your love of Lake Superior and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. My happiest memories are of the times we spent on the Keweenaw Peninsula – starting when our children were very small and continuing in resent years.