Mr. Spock’s IDIC

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[This Commentary originally appeared in the April 13, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

CarosaCommentaryNewLogo_259IDIC, to paraphrase the Star Trek Concordance (Bjo Trimble, 1976), represents the fundamental Vulcan philosophy of nurturing diversity to produce synergistic good. IDIC – short for Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations – sets Vulcans apart from other species by elevating their demeanor. Essentially, these green blooded people, by the very way they live their lives, demonstrate a courage unique to their race – they not only tolerate diversity, they recognize its advantages and readily seek it out. Spock, in the episode “In Truth There is No Beauty,” explains “diverse things come together to create truth and beauty” and “the glory of creation lies in its infinite diversity and meanings.”

Fine, so what does this mean to the average person, i.e., one who can’t tell the Science Officer of the USS Enterprise from a baby doctor?

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What’s With The Duke of Earl?

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[This Commentary originally appeared in the April 6, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

CarosaCommentaryOldLogo_300Like any typical driver, I listen to the radio a lot. In fact, I generally listen to only one type of station – the one that plays the most Beatles songs in an hour. (Every once in a while, though, I switch to the one which plays the most Frank Sinatra songs in an hour.) In either case, I limit my listening to “oldies” or “classic hits.”

I’ve begun to notice a disturbing tendency – people younger than me are requesting songs just slightly before my time! It’s acceptable, I guess, for kids born after Paul McCartney’s last number one hit (and well after the break-up of the Beatles) to request Beatles songs. I figure they like the Beatles for the same reason I like Sinatra. Even though I wasn’t around at the peak of his popularity, I know of his historical impact and, besides, I really like his music. Yet, I have trouble with these kids who think Apple is a computer, not a recording company (and apparently so does the recording company).

I am really irked, though, by obvious prepubescents calling in to request such songs as Continue Reading “What’s With The Duke of Earl?”

In Search of Virtue: How Boy Scouts Helped Me Do the Impossible

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In 1748, the French philosopher Charles Louis de Secondat, Baron de Montesquieu, anonymously published his opus The Spirit of Laws. Two years later, Thomas Nugent 928906_80180220_Pontifical_Authority_royalty_free_stock_xchng_300published the initial English translation. This work, from where the term “separation of powers” first appeared, greatly influenced our Founding Fathers.

Montesquieu outlined three essential forms of government – Despotism, Monarchy and Republic – each dependent on one vital and defining character trait among its citizens. Under despotism, it’s fear. In a monarchy, it’s honor. But in a republic, Montesquieu maintains, those governed must be disposed to nothing less than virtue. Our Founding Fathers understood this. They possessed high expectations of both their new country as well as its citizens.

Oddly enough, the nation’s forebears did not see it as the role of government to imbue virtue upon its citizens. Rather, they expected the people to embrace virtue of their own volition. Nothing said this more than Benjamin Franklin’s answer to a woman who Continue Reading “In Search of Virtue: How Boy Scouts Helped Me Do the Impossible”

Rumors Resolved

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[This Commentary originally appeared in the March 30, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

CarosaCommentaryOldLogo_300Why did we pick Easter week as our first week of publishing the Sentinel? Rumor has it we chose last week, which also happened to fall on the first week of Spring, because of the symbolism of rebirth and resurrection. Sure, the Sentinel represents both – a revitalization in the tradition of local hometown newspapers. This explanation makes a great story, but, unfortunately, it fails the truth test. Perhaps the best way to describe how we came up with our starting date is by showing why we didn’t choose other dates.

The week of March 16th would have been an ideal starting date with the Village elections coming up and all. As luck would have it, I found myself away on business that week, and, besides, we saw no reason to place undue pressure on ourselves. We selected March 23rd primarily for this reason, and because we definitely did not want to Continue Reading “Rumors Resolved”

3 Essential Public Speaking Lessons I Accidentally Learned While Playing the Violin

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There I sat, fear pulsing through my veins. I had never seen anything like this before. The page had so much black ink it seemed more like a string of 918308_53296922_violin_royalty_free_stock_xchng_300incomprehensible Chinese characters than the opening music to the Overture of My Fair Lady. Mind you, I had dwelled with the elite of the orchestra pit since my freshman days in high school. Nothing scared me. Usually. This thing did.

Bluntly facing me lay four measures of thirty-second notes – a “run” in the vernacular of the musician. I had easily tackled runs of eighth notes and, perhaps with a little more practice, runs of sixteenth notes. I’ve even snuck in a furtive trill of a thirty-second note – but never a four measure run of these speedy bars. I looked at my teacher and agonizingly admitted, “I can’t play these.” What she said next stunned me.

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Only Heels Can Be Heroes

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[This Commentary originally appeared in the March 23, 1989 issue of The Mendon-Honeoye Falls-Lima Sentinel.]

CarosaCommentaryOldLogo_300This flows in the same vein as “No Guts, No Glory.”

Essentially, Heels and Heroes come from the same stuff. Only the outcome of their deeds differs (or at least we view them differently). Ultimately, the critical factor leading to labeling a man (or a woman) may result from nothing more than mere luck.

Today’s essay, however, does not concern what distinguishes Heels from Heroes. Rather, it will focus on the fundamental traits shared by, indeed vital to, the soul of both. You see, only Heroes can be Heels and only Heels can be Heroes.

Within us lies a drive from the moment of our very birth. Each of us has an innate desire Continue Reading “Only Heels Can Be Heroes”

Interested in Discovering My Time Machine?

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The years 1989 through 1991 proved significant. The world saw the end of communism and the beginning of the first Gulf War. Like any other person in his 859634_41406292_newspaper_royalty_free_stock_xchng_300late twenties/early thirties, I led a life of wonder and excitement. Busy creating a new division at work, I found time to earn an MBA, successfully woo the woman of my dreams, begin a successful political campaign and help start a weekly community newspaper.

This is about the latter.

By the time I reached my twenty-eighth birthday, I had decided I liked to write. More significantly, after several popular Continue Reading “Interested in Discovering My Time Machine?”

Sex Doesn’t Sell! (But it Does!) – Book Review of David Ogilvy’s Ogilvy on Advertising

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ogilvy_on_advertising_250Ever since Bewitched I always fancied myself an adman. The glamour. The excitement. The rush of adrenaline as the client smiles and accepts your big idea that just oozes with creativity. The beautiful wife who summons up your every delight with an alluring twinkle of her nose. Ah, what a life…

I never did end up in the field, but I’ve spent the better part of my life marketing one thing or another. You have to do that whether you’re an entrepreneur or an intrapreneur, whether you’re working in a non-profit or for-profit organization and, most especially, if you volunteer for a community organization. So when the man hailed by Time Magazine as “the most sought-after wizard in the advertising business” published a virtual how-to book on the subject (indeed, six of the first ten chapter titles contain the phrase “how to”), you just know I’m buying it and absorbing every single word.

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Cupid’s Apricot

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A man receives a package with no return address. It contains a pirate-style eye patch and a note. It also possesses a faint aroma of scented perfume.

cupid's_apricot_300“Apricot?” sniffs the homely man to himself. He smiles, examining the eye patch. For a moment, he floats back to a past he never knew. With inspired angst, he wraps the eye patch around his imperfect head carefully covering his right eye.

“Rats! Where’s my Hathaway shirt?” the man wonders while staring at the bleak mirror. He never liked the mirror, its darkened wood frame speckled with irregular dents. He despises it all the more now as his macabre reflection reminds him he no longer owns a Hathaway shirt. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly accepts the sole benefit of the mirror lay only in its ability to give the appearance his dreary one room hovel actually contains a mysterious second chamber.

In forlorn despair, he rips the eye patch – and several well-attached hairs – off his head and throws it at the waste basket. He misses badly. “No matter,” and he returns to the sweet fragrance of the package. He lazily paws at the note several times before it sticks to his stubby hands. Flopping backwards onto his bed, he reads the note in mid-flight.

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The Who Dat?

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Jim Croce once crooned a melody 618143_fading_away_royalty_free_stock_xchng_300that began “If I could save time in a bottle.” Ironically, through his participation in a fatal plane crash, he did, at least in terms of his own career. Unlike Bob Dylan, Jim Croce remains forever young. Of course, in the case of Bob Dylan, a seemingly senile – as in unintelligible – folk singer from the beginning, age simply doesn’t matter.

The same, unfortunately, does not apply to the band performing under the name “The Who.” CBS did the surviving members a disservice by airing commercials with clips from their heyday. I certainly didn’t expect to see a reprise of their guitar-smashing gyrations of an earlier generation. Still, the oh so apparent erosion of time stunned me. Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend appeared less a classic rock act and more a Simpsons parody of a has-been group doing one more reunion tour. They couldn’t cover up the wooden movements of their atrophied muscles, but I held out hope they’d at least lip sync to their younger voices.

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