A song for all seasons: "My Favorite Things"

MY TURN column
The Courier-Post
December 4, 2008

by DOUG OTTO

Forty years ago, Mary Martin introduced it on Broadway. A year later, John Coltrane reworked it into a complex, soprano sax harmonic. Julie Andrews sang it into popularity in a film adaptation.

I've always tried to figure out how "My Favorite Things" became a perennial Christmas song. This cheerful Richard Rodgers/Oscar Hammerstein showtune first appeared in the 1959 Broadway musical, "The Sound of Music." The lyrics are a reference to things the main character, Maria, selects to remember when times turn bad.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens

Brown paper packages tied up with strings

The original musical scripts the song just before Maria leaves the convent to serve as governess to the seven Von Trapp children. In the film, however, the song is repositioned so that Maria sings it with the children during an unsettling thunderstorm scene. The melody conveys terror, sung by a young woman eager to face new responsibilities. In both settings, the words of the song act as a confidence builder.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels

Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles

Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings

Coltrane transformed the song into a hypnotic, free jazz interpretation. His recording was a hit, becoming his most requested tune, a bridge to broad public acceptance of his move from bebop style. Perhaps its dark mood was a foreshadowing ode to troubled times.

When the dog bites

When the bee stings

When I'm feeling sad

In both the show and the movie, this song is sung during the summer. I guess the winter imagery of some of the lyrics makes it appropriate to sing during the holiday season; it often appears on Christmas-themed albums.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes

Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes

Silver white winters that melt into springs

At this time of year, we have a fondness for making gift lists (and checking them twice). My wife says it makes us more efficient and helps aging baby boomers remember things. So, during this season of thankfulness and memory, I'd like to offer some of my favorite things. (Singing is optional):

• Sipping a glass of cabernet sauvignon while nibbling dark chocolate

• A chirping backyard chorus of late summer crickets

• Peeling back the cover of a new, unread book

• Sitting behind a large window, feeling the sun's rays in midwinter

• That rattling sound my golf ball makes when it finally hits the bottom of the cup

• The way my son ends every phone conversation and e-mail with "Love You, Dad"

• Any concerto by Vivaldi

• Wood smoke on a damp fall afternoon

• The pit-of-the-stomach thrill delivered by amusement park rides

• The words "thank you"

• Walking on an empty beach, day or night, anytime of year

• Fresh fallen snow, resting fluffy and white on every tree branch

• A laugh so hearty it brings tears to the eyes

• The interplay of light and shadow in an Edward Hopper painting

These small affirmations can become powerful grounding tools for the psyche. Calling on them often brings an appreciation and peacefulness to hectic modern lifestyles. When the weather outside is frightful (literally, figuratively and economically), it may be restorative to consider your personal favorite things. Because, as the song tells us:

I simply remember my favorite things

And then I don't feel so bad

Now, tell me, what's on your list of favorite things this holiday season?

Friendship: A must for this food group

MY TURN column
The Courier-Post
November 6, 2008

by DOUG OTTO

My wife and I moved from the farms and pinelands of rural Shamong to historic Haddonfield 25 years ago. We didn't know a soul. To get acquainted, we joined the Newcomers Club, a social organization that held monthly get-togethers including a townwide scavenger hunt and an annual holiday progressive dinner.

An offshoot activity was a gourmet group. Four or five couples would meet at members' homes for dinner every six weeks or so, with each couple bringing a part of the meal. The hosts selected the evening's cuisine and supplied the entree and beverages.

Our present dinner group has been intact since 1988, but we jokingly refer to ourselves as the "anything-but-gourmet group." While we have often ventured into the world of exotic and cultural epicurean fare, more often we can be found gathering for a chili cook-off, a hotdog at a Phillies game or a picnic on the beach.

During our two decades together, we have dined at Philadelphia's Restaurant School, invited a sommelier to an in-home wine tasting, and traveled to Gettysburg National Battlefield for a ranger-led guided tour and local food. The "gourmet" fathers and sons have camped on the Eastern Shore of Maryland and along the Delaware River, testing their outdoor campfire cooking skills. The ladies have trekked to New York City for Broadway shows, with mandatory Great White Way lunches and dinners.

Last month's gathering proved to be something extra special, however, as the group met at a member's second home in the Poconos, amid perfect blu- sky weather and a visual symphony of brilliant fall foliage. We hiked, canoed, photographed the scenery and read books on the deck overlooking the lake before sitting down to an evening of cocktails, conversation and a family-style meal.

The 12 of us sat around the table reminiscing first about our children, 15 in all. They had grown-up together, played sports or engaged in school activities with one another and were now all living on their own. We told stories about how we all first met, about our early careers and how it felt to be middle-aged empty-nesters heading into the next phase of our lives.

Here were a physician, an engineer, two lawyers, a biologist, a psychologist and chairs full of educators getting all mushy and sentimental. And we didn't care one bit.

What our little dinner group has really been dishing out all these years is a large helping of friendship, support and love. We've developed a special synergy, an easiness with being open with one another, borne of nights, days and weekends spent in the company of what has become an extended family. There have been informal walks around town, drop-in visits to each other's homes and phone calls just to keep in touch.

Together we've celebrated joyful moments: graduations, weddings, athletic events and the impending birth of a first grandchild. And we've supported each other in times of need: the death of a spouse, the loss of a job, a heart attack and surgery. Even the guys have been known to share unguarded occasions, when true feelings are expressed and souls are bared.

"Good interpersonal relationships act as a buffer against stress," says Micah Sadigh, an associate professor of psychology at Cedar Crest College in Allentown, Pa. "Knowing you have people who support you keeps you healthy, mentally and physically. You need friends you can talk to without being judged or criticized," he says.

After dinner on our Poconos trip, the group moved to the rustic living room to sit around the stone fireplace for dessert and wine. In the background, James Taylor, Boz Scaggs and Motown music played, and someone said the experience was starting to remind her of the movie "The Big Chill."

After a rousing word game resembling charades, the evening's conversation turned to thoughts of thankfulness. We all agreed that we were fortunate to live in a wonderful small town, to have found work we regard as rewarding, but especially to have met one another. Maybe it was the crisp mountain air or the day spent outside doing physical activity, but sleep that night was deep and renewing.

On Sunday morning, following a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon, we all packed up, said our goodbyes and prepared for a three-hour ride through the Delaware Water Gap on the way back to South Jersey.

As our car rolled past cornfields browning in the late fall sun, my wife and I were mostly silent. I kept thinking about the weekend's events, our relationship with our friends and the neighborhood where we live. For some reason, Thornton Wilder's play "Our Town" crept into my thoughts. Maybe it was the theme of people appreciating life while they are still living it.

At home, I Googled "The Big Chill," and discovered the movie's tagline was "In a cold world, you need your friends to keep you warm." When I showed my wife, we both looked at each other and just smiled.

Civility: The lost art of caring

MY TURN column
The Courier-Post
October 5, 2008

by DOUG OTTO

Burnt Mill Road in Cherry Hill quickly merges from two lanes to one at the entrance to the EDS corporate building near Woodcrest Road. That's where I came face to face with another example of how the modern world is slipping further and further away from manners and civility.

One recent morning, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw a sleek, red sports car gaining speed behind me in the right lane, as we approached the narrowing roadway. Without regard for safety or courtesy, the young woman driver sped past me, and jerked her steering wheel to the left, cutting me off. She never slowed down or signaled her intention to slide her car in front of mine.

When I indicated my displeasure by testing the decibel level of my car horn, the little princess thrust her left hand out the window, and, by using her middle finger, gestured that I was "No. 1."
"That's not happiness to see me, is it?" I thought, remembering a line from the 1998 movie, "A Perfect Murder," starring Michael Douglas and Gwyneth Paltrow. The title held a double meaning at that point in my day.

Less than 500 yards later, she turned right into an apartment complex, ending her journey, but raising my blood pressure for the remainder of mine. What was her dire need to pass me with such determination? Would it have been a sign of frailty to acquiesce this once, and follow me for the short ride to her destination?

I guess we can thank technology for distorting our modern concept of time. We become impatient if the copier doesn't spit out our work faster than we can snap our fingers or if our computer doesn't upload Web pages faster than we can take a breath. In our attempts to accomplish more, with blinding speed, we just might be blurring the lines of courtesy and good manners. Efficiency may be trumping respect, and we all are made less human in the process.

Back in the 18th century, a 16-year-old schoolboy by the name of George Washington took his first steps toward greatness by hand-lettering a list of 110 "Rules of Civility and Decent Behavior" for young gentlemen.
Maybe they could work today in a society and a world that appears to have lost its way.

For example:
"Every action done in company, ought to be with some sign of respect to those that are present."
Like ringing cell phones that disrupt meetings? And Bluetooth-talkers wandering in stores?

"Put not off your clothes in the presence of others, nor go out your chamber half dressed."
Britney, Paris and Lindsay take note; Janet's equipment malfunction doesn't cut it either.

"Use no reproachable language against anyone; neither curse nor revile."
There go the MPAA movie ratings and the Parental Advisory stickers on music CDs.

"Let not your morsels be too big for the jowls."
What? No super-sized fries?

"Associate yourself with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company."
How about corrupt politicians and greedy CEOs?

"Show nothing to your friend that may affright him."
Does that include rising DRPA bridge tolls, $4 per gallon gas, and the housing market?

Washington was not a Democrat or a Republican -- actually, he was a Federalist. But I'm certain his rules would soften the harsh approaches being used by Barack, John, Joe and Sarah to attack each other in the presidential campaign.

And just maybe they would realign the conscience of a certain young lady with a penchant for recklessly driving her red sports car on narrow roads and endangering others.

But, I still wonder if even Washington's rules could teach her to say: "Pardon me."


Doug Otto is a private-school superintendent living in Haddonfield. He teaches writing workshops and can be reached at DougOttoWrites@gmail.com

Buzzer Beaters: Creativity in the Second Half of Life

MY TURN column
The Courier-Post
March 5, 2008

by DOUG OTTO

On a frigid Saturday night recently, my wife and I found ourselves in Washington, D.C., attending the opening night of a play as the guests of my son, the show's sound designer.

During the cast party, Matt, 24, introduced us to the creative team: the playwright, director, lead actress, costumer, lighting designer, and stage manager. I stood back and observed the child I raised interacting with his artistic collaborators, inspired individuals who transported theatergoers into a magic world of light, sound and illusion.

I was awed by the collective talent, and wondered about the creative process.

How is it that some are divinely charged with the ability to shape familiar materials into new or unusual effects? Is creativity innate, or can it be learned and nurtured? Is being creative the domain of the young or can we become more creative as we age?

As an educator, I see the result of allowing children to creatively explore and interact with their environment. At the day-care center I oversee in Camden, more than 100 pre-schoolers bounce between the water table, sand area, and the dress-up corner, trying out, without criticism from peers or adults, the roles and relationships they will carry into their future.

With their children grown, today's baby boomers are rediscovering their creative pursuits, replacing child-centered activities with personal inspirations found in places like book groups, gourmet cooking clubs, and museum lectures.

John Krout, professor of gerontology and director of Ithaca College's Gerontology Institute in New York, writes, "There is a growing recognition among those who study aging that involvement in creative activities such as the arts can contribute significantly to well-being across a person's life span. The fact is, an older person doesn't have to be Picasso to embark on new creative pursuits or to continue lifelong creative endeavors."

My wife and her female friends have taken to monthly knitting and conversation get-togethers, and many in the group are also active watercolor painters.

Some believe that the approach of one's later life actually stimulates creativity with increased urgency, intensity and energy. Writer Ray Bradbury said, "We are all cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out."

To the ancient Greeks, the word inspiration literally meant being "breathed upon" by the gods, with creative thoughts being the result.

"Many people are now living into their 80s and 90s with reasonably good health," says Ithaca's Krout. "Because of this new demographic, we have a cultural imperative to explore and better understand how older people can continue to flourish creatively and remain engaged in and contribute to their communities."

I am encouraged to think that Goethe completed "Faust" at 80; Edison was busy in his laboratory at 84; Toscanini was conducting at 85; and poet Stanley Kunitz was writing meaningful verse at 100.

In his book, "The Creative Age: Awakening Human Potential in the Second Half of Life," Gene D. Cohen, M.D., Ph.D., points to four important factors for boomers. Creativity strengthens our morale in later life; contributes to physical health as we age; enriches relationships, and is our greatest legacy.

The Japanese have a proverb that reads, "I will master something, and then the creativity will come." Boomers have mastered many great life skills, developed many great talents. They have learned to recognize inspiration when they see or hear it, and now they are finding time to respond to it.

I've come to realize that creativity is not limited to the fine arts. I have seen creativity manifested in the teacher who creates a knowledge breakthrough with a struggling student, as well as in the salesman who creates opportunities for customer satisfaction. Everyday, in every workplace, we are called upon to use creative powers to advance assigned tasks, or at a minimum to try and move the clock on the wall faster toward 5 o'clock.

It doesn't much matter whether you get your creativity as an ardent participator, or as an arms-length observer/appreciator. When you invite your Muse to stand close by and shower you with the necessary inspiration, the spirit inside of you comes out to play, and create.

Doug Otto is a private school superintendent living in Haddonfield. He leads writing and poetry workshops and can be contacted at DougOttoWrites@gmail.com