Advent, Amazon and anticipatory pleasure
Hold that thought
Some of you were justifiably annoyed by how long it took Amazon to deliver a hardback copy of my new book, Broadcast Live, to your doorstep.
Did I feel your pain? Sort of. But if I were hunting for a theme for today’s first Sunday of Advent sermon—whether in philosopher’s tweed or preacher’s robes—I’d grab the underrated thrill of “anticipatory pleasure” and its prim, proper cousin, “delayed gratification.”
If you’ve actually torn yourself away from Broadcast Live to read this allegedly important Substack, you may already be rolling up your sleeves to arm‑wrestle me.
Still, think about a time when the run‑up to a big moment was every bit as satisfying as the moment itself. That happens. The delicious tingle when you’re starving and your favorite dish is somewhere in the restaurant’s kitchen, inching closer. Every time a server pushes through those swinging doors, you swear those aromas have your name on them and every near‑miss cranks the anticipation a notch higher.
Or remember landing tickets to a concert that’s still months away, or sketching out that dream vacation you’ve fantasized about for years. Even vegetable seeds planted produce promise before produce. The pleasure doesn’t wait for the main event; it clocks in the minute you start looking forward.
Anticipatory pleasure—let’s call it “AP”—has its own kind of magic. It turns a quick hit of happiness into a long, slow burn that can last days, weeks, even months. It keeps life buoyant, gives the calendar some sparkle and hums along beneath the daily grind while you wait for something wonderful to show up. (This kind of relates to Chapter 5 in the new book. Check it out.)
All of which is a long way of saying I really do value “anticipatory pleasures.” Even so, I hope the fun you most patient folks are having with Broadcast Live is crushing whatever “AP” Amazon may have imposed on you.
And speaking of which…
Judith Valente celebrates her love of Italy in The Italian Soul, an engaging and often surprising book whose subtitle, “How to Savor the Full Joys of Life,” neatly captures its purpose.
Rather than skimming the surface as a tourist, Valente settles into a single neighborhood for weeks at a time, shopping in the same markets and cafés, befriending local merchants and turning up at community events until the fabric of daily life begins to feel like her own. Piazzas and parks emerge as outdoor living rooms; laundry strung across balconies hints at close-knit domestic life; church towers remain free of cellphone antennae; and Italy’s identity as a Catholic nation sits uneasily alongside its teachings people quietly ignore.
Through a series of vivid vignettes, Valente invites readers to consider how the Italian art of savoring ordinary moments might deepen their own lives, wherever they call home. At the same time, she does not shy away from the country’s shadows, highlighting troubling aspects of Italian life that serve as cautionary tales for other nations.
She argues that Italy’s hardline policies toward immigrants and refugees clash with a deep-rooted culture of generosity and hospitality. She laments how many otherwise decent Italians either feared the Mafia or benefited too much from it to break the code of silence. She also reminds readers that Mussolini’s fascism predated Hitler’s, a stark example of the dangers posed by the unchecked power of a single leader. She doesn’t mention how slavery found roots in Rome.
In the end, it is Italians’ slower, less cluttered way of living that most captivates her, offering a model for a more contemplative existence.
If and when a return trip to Italy is in my future, The Italian Soul will be in my suitcase—a small volume, rich with insight on how to better absorb this magnificent country’s culture and meet its people, who seem to know better than most how to enjoy life.
Sir Charles meets our MJ
That’s our granddaughter Mariella (who goes by “MJ”) with “Sir Charles” himself—Charles Barkley, the NBA star who’s now a CBS/TNT analyst.
They crossed paths by chance last week in an Arizona store, where our son-in-law Alex introduced himself and his daughter, knowing Barkley’s reputation for an easy-going nature and good humor.
“This is my daughter, MJ—like the guy you played with,” Alex said.
Barkley’s quick reply: “She’s better looking than Michael Jordan.”
An unplanned but purposeful path
In the three years since his Alzheimer’s diagnosis at age 59, the disease’s progression in my friend and former WJBC Radio colleague Adam Nielsen has been subtle. What stands out instead is the determination Adam and his wife, Dayna, bring to raising awareness and pressing government to invest in fighting the disease.
Mary and I helped celebrate Adam and Dayna’s wedding with them almost 31 years ago, toasting a future none of us could have imagined would include an Alzheimer’s diagnosis in midlife. That history makes it all the more powerful to see them now, side by side again, fighting this disease.
Adam took early retirement from his valued role as a federal lobbyist for the Illinois Farm Bureau. Now he walks the same halls of Congress and visits the state capitol with a new mission. As he explains in the IFB podcast “Taking Stalk,” he is using his skills and contacts on behalf of himself and others living with Alzheimer’s, working to secure more resources for research and treatment.
I felt deeply honored a few weeks ago when Adam introduced me as I spoke to his Rotary Club. It was an emotional moment for both of us, layered with memories that stretch from our days together at WJBC to this new chapter of advocacy and resolve.
Adam takes medication that helps manage his symptoms, and he’s hopeful new therapies on the horizon will slow the disease’s progression. He’s been paired with a medical student who spends four hours a month with him, tracking Adam’s condition over time. “Yeah,” Adam says in the podcast, “whatever you can do to help the next generation of medical professionals understand.”
“It’s not what we planned,” Dayna says, “and we’re not naïve about what the future may hold. We’re just choosing not to live in that future every day.”
If you need an infusion of gratitude and a living example of courage, service and determination, listen to Adam’s and Dayna’s story on the Illinois Farm Bureau’s “Taking Stalk” podcast.
A “Mingle” report
When’s the last time you invited yourself into a group of strangers to discuss the day’s headlines?
For most of us, it feels a bit risky these days. But a couple of weeks ago, my daughter Krista and I did exactly that.
As fans of CNN and Sirius XM host Michael Smerconish, we admire his mission to “restore civility and compromise to our public discourse”—a goal that’s feeling both elusive and urgent.
One of Smerconish’s offshoots is the “Mingle Project,” loosely organized meetups where people from varied backgrounds show up to talk things over face-to-face. It’s happening on a regular basis in about three dozen cities spread around the country (there’s also one in Canada), and the list seems to be expanding.
Neither of us knew what to expect when we finally arrived (15 minutes late, courtesy of an unusual Arizona rainstorm) at the Phoenix restaurant-bar where space had been reserved. Largely by luck, we identified the “Minglers” seated around two tables and were “welcomed in.” I was probably the oldest of the group that now numbered 14; Krista, unmistakably the youngest.
Yes, it felt awkward at first, all of us curious to know about each other, starting with the simple stuff concerning geographic and work backgrounds. At our table there was some tentative disclosure of political leanings. Everyone there was a Smerconish fan, save the one guy who was totally unfamiliar with the TV host and had become aware of the group through the “Meet-up” app.
My sense was that the people at our table were left-leaning. One lady volunteered she watched a lot of MSNBC and had zero tolerance for bigots.
There was no real agenda. The organizer did float a general question about the neighborhoods we live in and whether we feel neighbors would be quick to respond to a call for help.
Near the end of the 90-minute event, I ventured over to the other table where I asked whether they had divined whether there was much political diversity at the table. One was a Trump supporter, I discovered; another was a “former Trump supporter.” Not sure how deep or well that table’s discussion progressed.
What, exactly, was the purpose of the night? The atmosphere was certainly civil, even cordial. But there was no full-throated debate about substantive issues. Perhaps the format itself discourages vigorous discussion, especially since those drawn to the event are almost all Smirconish fans and, I think, more likely to be centrist, independent thinkers inclined toward moderation, not confrontation.
I applaud the “Mingle Project” goals. More of us would benefit from regularly stepping outside our red or blue “echo chambers” where we keep hearing our own views bounced back to us. And a worthy purpose would be achieved if we discovered that people with political views much different than our own possess similar problems, desires, fears, dreams and real reasons for lining up politically where they do.
A thoughtful friend, twice hired, now departed
I tried to hire Phil Supple three times and was fortunate to succeed twice—much to my delight and to the great benefit of the companies we served. More on that shortly.
Phil died just days before Thanksgiving, soon after telling me he had been diagnosed with a deadly brain tumor. We had seen Phil and Leah at a party only weeks earlier, and everything seemed fine—though now I wonder.
Our hearts go out to Leah, their family and everyone who knew Phil. We have all lost a kind, generous and thoughtful friend. Those who worked with him know Phil was a consummate professional—a man of exceptional talent, strong leadership and unwavering integrity.
The first time I tried to hire Phil, I struck out. I was news director at WJBC Radio in Bloomington, Ill., and had heard his work at a smaller radio station in an even smaller city. He had emerged from years in the U.S. Navy and Southern Illinois University, then promised his boss he’d stay at his current radio station for a defined period. Phil stood by his word, even though I offered a higher salary and greater experience.
Months later (after tracking when his “hitch” would end) I approached Phil again. This time he accepted, bringing his remarkable talent, good journalistic sense and work ethic to WJBC.
Several years later Phil moved to television and quickly became news director at WEEK-TV in Peoria, Ill., then one of America’s premier mid-market TV news operations. He held that position for a dozen years.
Fast forward to 1997. I was director of public affairs at State Farm and in need of a top media relations person. I called on Phil—cleverly repeating one of the best hiring decisions of my career.
Phil rose through the ranks at State Farm, retiring as senior director of public affairs seven years ago.
When we talked less than a week before his death, Phil told me Amazon’s delivery of his copy of Broadcast Live had been delayed but was expected soon. It’s a very small detail, but I so hope he got to see it and find his name mentioned with appreciative words in Chapter 53.
Phil was humble, mild-mannered and empathetic. He was quietly reliable and conscientious. A strong leader with a steady hand, smart and talented. And a very, very good person.
I will miss my friend. We all will.
Strings of comfort, sounds of peace
Even when sad times intrude on the holidays, music can help a tender and truthful kind of holiday spirit emerge.
For those of you in the Phoenix area, our East Valley Pops Orchestra will present three holiday concerts open to the public in Mesa in coming days: This Tuesday, Dec. 2 at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church; next Saturday the 6th at the Apache Wells RV Resort; and on Monday, Dec. 8 at Sunland Village East. All concerts begin at 7 p.m.
One of the songs we’ll be playing, “The Christmas Song” (you know: “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”) has never been one of my favorites. But I must admit, sitting in the second violin section, I find the arrangement our 70-piece orchestra is presenting this month is possibly the most beautiful take on the song I’ve heard.
I wish you and yours a season filled with peace, where the harmonies of music warm your hearts.
Thanks for reading!
as always, well said - I appreciate your testimonials for Adam and Phil... very thoughtful.