He Done Me Wrong

The Guilford Register
This article appeared in the July Issue of The Guilford Register.

Getting a fresh start sometimes means letting go of a grudge. I recall watching a friend’s relationship with his daughter-in-law go bad. Of course, I only heard one side of the story, so I was spared the agony of having to arbitrate and was able to focus on how my friend was coping with the situation.

At one point, he admitted that several people suggested he apologize to diffuse the anger and tension. He said, “I can’t do that. It would be like the victim apologizing to the mugger.” In his opinion, he’d been tragically wronged, and it just didn’t make sense to do anything except be hurt and angry.

His analogy of being mugged intrigued me since I was mugged at gunpoint some years ago. While it didn’t destroy me, the experience did exact a toll. For some time, I was a bit paranoid in parking lots at night. If a car approached, I instinctively tensed. And I carried around more hurt, fear, and anger than I realized for a while.

Then it dawned on me that my own feelings about the incident made me more of a victim than the actual robbery. (In much the same way, my friend’s feelings are making him the victim. It would appear the guilty party is not living in constant agony and hurt. If what my friend says is true, she’s actually quite happy to be rid of him and is probably taking great pleasure in his pain.)

In situations like these, it pays to keep things simple and approach them with a certain lack of passion. Most people would say I had every right to feel the way I did—we do have laws against that sort of thing. But the fact remained that those feelings were getting me nowhere.

They were actually limiting me and making me miserable. I considered what I contributed. I did provide him with an opportunity. Yes, rationally, one should be able to walk through a parking lot at night, but there are risks, and I chose to take them. In that regard, I suppose I “shared the blame” for what happened. The simple physics is that every criminal needs a victim. So while I don’t take all the responsibility for his choices and actions, I’m “sorry” for giving him a temptation he, in his weakness, couldn’t resist. (I’m not real sorry—just a little.)

My most important contribution came after the robbery. That’s when “I done me wrong.” I doubt that he intended to make me paranoid, angry, and fearful. He simply wanted my money. The rest of the stuff was, more accurately, “my fault.” In the long term, I was making myself the victim. His power and control over me only lasted for those few minutes he had the gun pointed my way. When he and his gun were gone, so was his influence. Once I realized the effect of the incident, my thoughts about him changed dramatically.

I can’t honestly say that I’ve totally forgiven the guy. He was eventually caught after several more robberies and beating up an elderly couple. I was more than willing to go to court, but not to apologize to him. My fresh start was not about forgiveness and apology. (Many times, apologies are in order when incidents escalate and things are subsequently said and done in anger and frustration.) Most fresh starts are about what is controlling us.

A fresh start doesn’t mean throwing caution to the wind and putting oneself in jeopardy. I can deal with this guy. I’d actually be willing to meet him again. But probably not in a dark parking lot.

Getting a fresh start means focusing on the future and what you can control. It doesn’t matter where you are. What matters is where you are going next. Life’s too short to be a victim of your own fear or grudge or anger.

Mr. Boomsma, You Need to Focus!

Picture a second grader with a scholarly pair of glasses that tilt as kids often do; an appropriate lack of front teeth revealed by a smile reflecting a sense of accomplishment. We’d just finished reading a book together. She’d read flawlessly.

When we stood to return to her classroom, another class of young scholars entered the library. They were calling out greetings as they passed, and this served as a distraction as I attempted to push my
chair under the table. I didn’t notice that I wasn’t succeeding because the chair simply didn’t fit.

After watching me in frustration for a while, she placed her hands on either side of her face, mimicking the blinders horses wear. “Mr. Boomsma, you need to focus!”

I chuckled at the maturity with which she attempted to resolve my problem and teach me a lesson. I thought I was busy. She rightly recognized I wasn’t busy. I just wasn’t doing such a good job of handling the multiple priorities I had unconsciously selected.

It’s at least interesting that a seven-year-old had that insight. Many people observing the situation would have thought I looked busy. But had I focused on any one of the tasks at hand, I would most certainly have succeeded. All I was really trying to do was push in my chair, keep track of my reader friend, and acknowledge some other friends arriving on the scene. Like walking and chewing gum at the same time, these were manageable tasks.

More than a decade has passed since she taught me that lesson, and I still use her gesture to remind myself to focus. Occasionally, I use it with others. She is, after all, correct. Most people who complain about being busy just need to focus.

The flip side of this is the claim, “Be patient! I can only do one thing at a time.”

Really?

Let’s see. I’m usually doing lots of things at a time. I’m thinking, writing, breathing… My heart is pumping. I’m somewhat aware of some folks nearby talking… I didn’t really think about it, but I’m really quite busy.

Fortunately, I’m also fairly focused. If not, I could become very stressed over everything I am handling. What if I forget to breathe? Now I need to sneeze. I’m so busy! I can’t take on another thing!

Having told on myself (and had some fun), I can perhaps reveal that I suspect many people who complain about being “busy” just aren’t focusing. Our wonderful brains do take care of a lot of this for us, but we also have the ability to manage our attention. When we don’t use that ability, not only does our stress increase, but our “situational awareness” decreases. I didn’t notice my chair didn’t fit because I was stressed. I was stressed because I wasn’t focused. It became about everything, and that meant it was actually about nothing.

Note, however, there’s an opposite problem when we become too focused. I wouldn’t call it obsessive compulsive. I think it’s more about target fixation. During WW II, pilots would sometimes become so focused on their target that they’d forget to release the bomb and pull out of the dive. They’d lose perspective and crash into the target.

Somewhere between focusing and being aware of one’s surroundings, there’s a sweet spot with a balance. But you don’t find it without looking.

It might be under the table where the chair doesn’t fit!

Vicki and Veronica Are “Tri-ing”

VForce Team Joins Maine’s Tri for a Cure Triathlon

In my role as Communications Director of the Maine State Grange, I often encounter people who are achieving great things. Vicki Huff, former President of the Maine State Grange, is participating for the first time in the annual Tri for a Cure Triathlon. Vicki explains her motivation in this short video.

The Maine Cancer Foundation (MCF) leads this statewide effort to reduce the impact of cancer in Maine, investing in the most promising and effective programs that:

  • Improve access to care for all Maine people;
  • Advance cancer prevention
  • Increase screening and early detection

The triathlon consists of three parts. Vicki has teamed up with her sister Veronica. Veronica will handle the swimming and biking portions, while Vicki handles the walking and running portions. The name of their team is VForce.

This year’s event happens on Sunday, July 12, 2026. Tri for a Cure has become the largest triathlon in the state of Maine, providing a gorgeous race course along the shores of Cape Elizabeth and South Portland.

The Triathlon has a great fundraising approach with several components. First, participants are required to raise a minimum of $500 each to be eligible. The Maine Cancer Foundation (MCF) recruits sponsors for the event itself, so all of the money raised goes directly to the cause.

While the VForce Team has raised the minimum. Additional donations are certainly in order! Use the link below to show your support. 100% of funds raised stay in Maine to support cancer prevention, screening, and improved patient outcomes. The money you help us raise will make a difference in the lives of your neighbors and communities around Maine. Now, more than ever, cancer patients need our help!

Life in the Fourth Quarter

Guest Post by Jack Falvey

You are who you once were, even in the fourth quarter of life. Beginning at age seventeen or so, we all begin to age. We just don’t notice it. In the fourth quarter, we begin to feel it. We each have a long list of things we can no longer do. Surprisingly, there is another longer list that can only be done in the fourth quarter.

What am I going to do next?

We can read late into the night, for example, and not be concerned about being late for work or even being tired the next day, as we can sleep in without a job to worry about. We will find we can live reasonably well with less than a million dollars under financial management. Modest living can be made to fit with what we can or like to do. We can take and make old-fashioned phone calls in real time without having to make appointments to do so. We can call people to chat, and they will greatly appreciate the call. You can be lonely if you like, but pick up either a smart or not-so-bright phone and call someone whenever you like. Staying in touch is big in the fourth quarter.

You can also cross things off your to-do list without ever doing them. One aging soul had a massive collection of 35 mm slides. He was sorting them out and digitizing them. One day, he asked himself who would view them. Not being able to answer that question, he threw them all away. Project “done”. Fourth-quarter people can do things like that if they have the strength to do so.

Having time and no longer having to run through airports, or now only being able to walk slowly, you can stay healthy by walking around the block. No health club required. One word of caution about health. Don’t begin conversations with an organ recital. We all have health issues. They are ours and need not be shared. One of the best uses of fourth-quarter time is to have live, face-to-face interaction or visits with others. That has always been the case, but now we can do it regularly if we make the effort.

We all change physically, but we are still the same person we have always been. So is everyone else here with us in the fourth quarter. We are all older and now wiser. Make your own list of stuff you can and want to do. It will exceed what you once were able to do in both quality of life and the quantity of fun stuff, which will rise to the top of that list. Share that list with as many others as you can. Finding others to share things with well could be your new almost full-time job. Retirement is out of fashion. Repotting is now the new thing. Growing in your new fourth-quarter world and having fun doing it is now the thing to do. It is the latest team sport. No court or paddles required. No conditioning or training needed. Focus on others, and you will qualify for the fourth-quarter Olympics almost overnight. Is much of this a surprise? There is a long list of surprises on the way now that you know to look for them. The fourth-quarter is the big one.


Jack Falvey is one of the most widely published freelance business writers in the world. In addition to his Dow Jones Features, his work has appeared in Newsweek, The Reader’s Digest, Inc. Magazine, Sales and Marketing Magazine and even Vogue! His most recent book: “All According to Plan: it was not my plan” is available on Amazon. He is in his fourth quarter at eighty-seven years of age.

More Than Toast

During the “WordCamp” held in Europe recently, one of the reported sessions challenged attendees to map out how to make toast. One attendee reported, “Sounds simple. It isn’t. Groups within the session came up with wildly different process maps — anywhere from 3 steps to 20. Use pre-sliced bread or cut from a whole loaf? Plug in the toaster first or load the bread? How dark is dark enough — and who decides?”

And then, during my ten minutes scrolling Facebook, I encountered these questions. “If AI writes your book, designs your cover, shapes your ideas, and polishes your voice… are you still the author? We are calling it ‘writing,’ but in reality, are we witnessing the slow death of originality in publishing? Technology has always helped writers—but this new wave feels different. Where exactly do we draw the line between assisted writing and fake authorship?”

At first glance, making toast and writing books seem unrelated. But both questions force us to examine the assumptions hidden inside the words we use.

My schedule for today doesn’t leave time to overthink this, but it does leave enough time to connect the two items.

First, when teaching, we must be conscious of our assumptions. Learning should be fun, and life is the best teacher. Those who claim to teach are just here to help. We think things are obvious, but to some, they are not. When we are teaching, we need to be aware of the automatic judgment calls we’re making.

Second, vocabulary must be considered both in teaching and making those judgment calls. If you have a sophisticated toaster and use presliced bread, can you claim to be a toastmaker? Perhaps more accurately, you are a toast assembler. I remember a colleague who often said, “Words don’t mean; people give words meaning.” Vocabulary is not only important when speaking and writing. It’s important when thinking.

Hopefully, we discover that this may be a time when the questions are more important than the answers. In the Facebook post, the poster has revealed his perception or, more accurately, his bias. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but he seems to be looking for support and agreement. Most social media posters are. It’s just one reason for the lack of meaningful dialogue and the basis for keyboard wars.

Meaningful dialogue isn’t complicated, but it can be difficult. During my consulting years, I experienced this firsthand. I was working in a food processing plant, interviewing a line worker. When I asked her about her likes and dislikes, she hated how cold it was in the plant. I asked her what she did with leftovers from dinner at home. She looked incredulous but replied, “I put them in the fridge.” After making the comparison to handling food in the plant, she sincerely said, “Is that why it’s cold? I thought you kept it cold so we would work faster.”

The best learning is exploration and discovery. We don’t have to suspend judgment, but we do need to be conscious of making it.

Whether we are making toast or authoring books, core principles must be maintained. Some fundamentals must remain if we are going to produce good, edible toast and good, readable books. We may take shortcuts to get there, but the shortcut shouldn’t diminish the fact that we’re doing something worthwhile.

Exploring simplicity in a complicated world