Interesting and Interested: In Memory of my Father

"Everyone wants to be interesting -- but the vitalizing thing is to be interested. Keep a sense of curiosity. Discover new things. Care. Risk failure. Reach out." ~John Gardner

To be both interesting and interested--that to me has long been the measure of the kind of person I want to be around and want to be. My father Martin Shames, who died last week at 77, was just that kind of person. More on his remarkable life below.

As we close the chapter on a presidential campaign that mostly wasted months of our collective attention, it is more vital than ever for us to be interested--to engage in the question of where we are heading as a culture and a country. If you live in Chicago, I invite you to join me for Envisioning a World Transformed, a day-long event on November 18th that asks us to imagine and play a role in creating a thriving future.  The event, hosted by Greenheart Transforms (a Chicago-based organization dedicated to personal and social transformation and part of the international cultural exchange non-profit CCI-Greenheart), includes speakers reflecting change in different arenas--ecological, social, educational and spiritual--and an opportunity to connect with other difference-makers and cultural innovators. Because of my relationship with the host, I can offer you reduced tickets for the full day, including lunch, for only $35! Just sign up here and select the "membership" option. 
My dad and I were different, but I know he appreciated my creative urges and aspirations. When he died suddenly of a heart attack last week, I got a chance to spend some meaningful post-superstorm days with my family and friends in Philadelphia thinking about the life of this special man.  Marty had a rare combination of kindness, curiosity and intelligence that made him successful as a businessman and much beloved by almost everyone who met him. People felt comfortable around him not just because he had interesting things to say but because he took interest in others and the world. He was a reader and a writer, constantly sending relevant articles to friends and family. He was a lifelong student--he loved history and Judaism and geneology--as well as a teacher, always patient and articulate. He loved to tell stories and to hear yours. His natural way of being--interesting and interested with a smile--put others at ease, whether they were complete strangers without obvious commonalities (he'd find them), our English-deficient Argentinian cousins  (he attempted broken Spanish), or a new nervous girlfriend (who would be laughing in seconds).

Originally of very humble origins and immigrant parents growing up in the Bronx, NY, Marty truly lived the American dream. He graduated from NYU (getting an MBA before they were even called that), learned some life lessons as a proud Marine, somehow snagged a beautiful woman from above his station, and took her and three growing children with him to Chicago as he quickly ascended the corporate ranks as a disciplined and effective financial manager. By 42 he became the president of the largest division of the largest picture frame company (Intercraft) in the world. Later he was the CFO of AAMCO Industries before becoming a business consultant specializing in the leasing industry.

I admired his courage as he switched professional gears in his 50s, carving out a varied consulting practice and easing into a role as advisor and mentor to many.  He never retired; just last month he was orchestrating a complicated final sale on a business he helped found many years ago. 

But mostly I admired him as a person. He wasn't flashy, but he knew how to run one heck of a Passover seder, welcoming loved ones and strangers alike, coaxing their participation, singing off-key and being the center and sage of the family. He knew how to be alone and he knew how to be with others. He appreciated what he had and never forgot where he came from.  He was a real mensch, a good, good man, and I loved him.

52 years of marriage with his beloved Joan