From Ghoulies, Ghosties, Long-leggedity beasties,
And all those phantom fears lurking ‘neath our beds in the dark of night,
Good Lords deliver us.
Happy All Hallows Eve from
all the BartsBooks crew. 
Bart Jackson
What’s Funny About Business?
Work Wit: Making an Entrance…Our CEO rides his electric scooter to departmental meetings. He loves the special pocket for his FitBit.
Afterthought. Gadgetophilia is the state of being over-teched and out of touch.
5th Annual Delaware River Cleanup
On a sunny Saturday morning of September 17, Bart and Lorraine joined another 300 muddy, joyful souls along the banks of the Delaware for the 5th Annual Delaware River Cleanup.
Most groups labored by foot, but we joined the canoe crew filling out boats with old chairs and pipes to ancient steering wheels – and a horrendous amount of plastic bottles. All great fun with a marvelous group of environmentally conscious folks.
Memorial Day Afterthoughts
It is a sad paradox that while all wars are evil tragedies, yet so many individual combatants enter into battle armed with the most altruistic and humane hopes. This past Monday, I heard the story of one such fallen soldier who grew up in the village of Orleans, MA on Cape Cod.
My wife Lorraine and I had joined the townspeople for a powerfully moving service of remembrance in the Orleans’ Veteran’s Park. The Mayor reminded us that, unlike Veterans Day which honors those who have served, Memorial Day pays tribute to those fallen service men and women who made the ultimate commitment and paid the ultimate sacrifice. An elderly Coast Guard officer told the story of Alan, one of Orleans’ three heroes who had died in service of their country.
After graduating from Orleans High School, with the 19 other members of the class of 1938, Alan went to work in town. (The class picture showed only 16 of the class, four being absent due to a regional epidemic of mumps.) Within days of President Roosevelt’s announcing the attack on Pearl Harbor, Alan enlisted in the Navy and rose to the rank of Radioman First Class. From his ship’s position the northern Atlantic, Alan would transmit vital information to Allied convoys. Two years later a German submarine log records sighting and firing three torpedoes at Alan’s ship. Two torpedoes hit midships, sending Alan and all his 245 crewmates to their death. (Exactly how the Coast Guard officer came up with the German log notation, I find fascinating.)
Alan wrote no grand philosophic or patriotic essays, but a few recalled memories from friends and sentences in letters marked Alan’s reasons for going off to war. Unlike the traditional soldier’s hope for plunder or glory, Alan had mentioned that he believed it was his personal responsibility to serve and to protect his nation. A simple belief of one young man, indicating a truly heroic devotion. The Orleans Fire Department Chaplain gave a final prayer urging us, as Abraham Lincoln did following the battle of Gettysburg, to remember these fallen and honor them by rededicating our own lives. Just thought I would share this with you.
– Bart Jackson
My Thanks to You Thanksgiving 2021
Life swirls on all about us unrelentingly. Perhaps it is the ceaseless exposure to television dramas, novels, and cinema that have us viewing our lives in a series of episodes. Events hurtle upon us – we struggle – face down the challenges, then it is over. Behind us. We move expectantly to a new chapter. But Life with Covid refuses to wrap up so neatly. In the fugue of our lives, this plague storms on as a dark, dominant theme, then gets pushed into the background as other dramas unfold and take center stage, capturing our attention. Couples unite, love triumphs, man’s inevitable inhumanity rages against our compassion…the layers of life pile on. Yet the plague keeps re-emerging, varying, but it never quite resolves. It remains one of several stubborn scowling characters, spurning all calls to exit, that we must push to the fringe of our thought. And, marvelously, we do just that!
This November 2021, I stand struck by the resiliency of the people around me. Be the gathering real or virtual, after a quick news swap of booster benefits and fears, the mood invariably shifts. Folks bubble with that verve of celebration. Hope is joyfully expressed to me constantly from masked mouths; and for the first time in too darn long, I listen to words of gratitude. Last year, I recall penning a post comparing our times with the Pilgims’ example of hopeful thanksgiving as they entered harsh winter with more than half of their numbers lost. It was meant as a plea to seek out whatever reeds of hope we each could muster. This year, I find that message as obsolete as diesel fuel for a Tesla.
With so many expectations shattered, we seem to be gathering up shiny realizations of thankfulness from the pieces. And that feeling of gratitude, I truly believe, is not limited to this man’s narrow experience. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Humankind’s unquenchable quest to celebrate with joyous thanksgiving defies circumstance, and is as innate and natural as any of our “inevitable” sins.
So this Thanksgiving, allow me to raise my glass to all of you harboring hope and gratitude. You raise our spirits as we face the next chapter, and we will pass it on.
Wishing you Every Success,
– Bart Jackson