Comments Off on Hey! My Good Grandpa book will launch on Father’s Day 2025
What started as an idea is now a completed manuscript that’s already getting positive reviews from two tough critics — my agent, Paul Bresnick, and my publisher, Gretchen Young. Both…
What started as an idea is now a completed manuscript that’s already getting positive reviews from two tough critics — my agent, Paul Bresnick, and my publisher, Gretchen Young.
Both Paul and Gretchen have extensive backgrounds as editors with large publishing houses and have provided very candid feedback to me throughout my year-long book writing journey. They always give me the straight scoop, good or bad. Which is why I’m very excited to share their take on the manuscript.
Here’s what Paul had to say: “The book is inspiring, uplifting, and brimming with practical wisdom. The writing is so good – evocative and filled with genuine emotion. It’s populated with a diverse cast of characters whose stories are vividly told and who each have something unique and important to contribute – all in the service of filling out the wisdom tree.”
Here’s Gretchen’s feedback: “You did a really thoughtful and thorough job here. Your experience with your own grandparents, your journey as a grandfather, and your conversations with other grandfathers (a diverse cast of them, as well), along with the lessons woven throughout the essays — all really well-done! Thanks for being super conscientious about seeking out a wide variety of grandfathers — that greatly benefitted the text. I was touched by your conversations with others. I was moved by the poignancy while also smiling and laughing. Great balance of emotions. Grandpas will LOVE it…. as will many other readers!”
Thank you so much for following the blog. My purpose is to nurture the next great generation, and as you know this is a group effort. I could not have written the book without the involvement of wonderful grandpas who took the time to talk with me and share their stories and wisdom. The more people read the book, the more we can disseminate the extraordinary advice these grandpas have offered us.
The book will be published by Regalo Press and distributed by Simon & Schuster, with a planned launch in time for Father’s Day next year. The best way to keep up to the date with the book launch is to subscribe to the Good Grandpa blog. If you know of someone who would enjoy the book, please send them a link to the blog. My newsletter signup form is on the home page. Stay tuned!
As I write the Good Grandpa book I’m grouping my interviews with grandpas by topic—for example, three veterans from different branches of the military—then writing a chapter focused on…
The Dalai Lama
As I write the Good Grandpa book I’m grouping my interviews with grandpas by topic—for example, three veterans from different branches of the military—then writing a chapter focused on what I learn.
I ask a lot of questions and always conclude with what I call the Billy Crystal City Slickers question: What’s the #1 thing that matters?
I’ve found that when I compare and contrast these #1s they form fascinating patterns, all imbued with flavors of meaning that can only be derived from their careers and life experiences.
Most recently, I met with four grandpas who are religious leaders, a priest, imam and two rabbis (one orthodox, one reform). It sounds a bit like the old joke “A priest, a rabbi and an imam walk into a bar….” But I can guarantee you that what these men told me was no joke. I was floored.
The last lap of my journey of religious wisdom discovery led me to Buddhism and a gentleman who is not actually a grandpa, at least not in a literal sense.
Lhamo Thondup was born on a straw mat in a cowshed in 1935, one of sixteen children in a humble farming family. In 1940, he was recognized as the 14th Dalai Lama and is currently the highest spiritual leader and head of Tibetan Buddhism. I wrote a letter to His Holiness in February of 2024 asking if he’d be available for a conversation. Four months later I received an email from his secretary saying the Dalai Lama, at 89, was devoting more time to rest and personal practice, and hence not available to meet. I wrote back to say that I understood and appreciated the response. However, after meeting with the four other religious leaders I felt I had given up on the Dalai Lama too easily. I wrote back and asked his secretary to ask him one question on my behalf, the #1 thing that mattered for grandchildren the world over.
The Dalai Lama replied, “Compassion is the key to the future well-being of our planet and fellow human beings.”
Excited to hear from His Holiness, I sought to better understand Buddhist teachings on compassion. Here’s how the Tibetan Book of Living and Dying defines compassion: “It is not simply a sense of sympathy or caring for the other person’s suffering, not simply a warmth of heart toward the person before you, or a sharp clarity of the recognition of their needs and pain, it is also a sustained sense and practical determination to do whatever is possible and necessary to help alleviate their suffering.”
In other words, it’s not enough to be a compassionate person, we actually have to take action to help others. There are all kinds of implications here for us as grandparents.
What comes to mind first is that after each school shooting there are the usual calls for “thoughts and prayers.” This is followed by politicians doing just about nothing. Then there’s another school shooting. And another. And another. This carnage is adding up on an almost unimaginable scale. According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, childhood firearm fatalities increased by 87.1% over a 10-year period, rising to 2,590 deaths in 2021, beating out car accidents. Putting this number in perspective, a good-sized high school auditorium seats around 600 students. Imagine every single year over 4 auditoriums packed with children and teens die by gunfire.
Having genuine compassion requires us to solve this problem fast.
The question is, how? Passions run high on each side of the gun issue in America, with the NRA and other gun-rights advocates steadfastly supporting the Second Amendment, while parents and students clamor for much tighter restrictions on gun ownership. I suggest we meet in the middle on common ground. I have no doubt that all grandparents love their grandchildren. There is no red and blue color code on our national map when it comes to caring deeply about the safety of these kids. We urgently need a national conversation about what can be done to protect our grandchildren from harm, and this can’t be just one side talking. It’s going to take everybody and it has to be respectful.
One might ask, why should grandparents be the ones to make this happen? For starters, nobody else is, so why not?
Secondly, we often hear people say we’re living in a “new normal.” But those of us who are older remember a world without school shootings and we will not accept the normalization of horror. We have the time-tested experience and the moral authority required to convene this national conversation. And if any adults misbehave along the way, we’ll send them to a timeout chair.
All of the religious leaders I met with offered up their own unique perspectives, their own #1 thing. When I see their ideas in aggregate a larger picture emerges, a unifying umbrella of meaning. It’s not one pane of stained glass in a house of worship; there’s a full, rich image with light streaming through each section of color to paint a portrait I will never forget. I will be sharing this with you when the Good Grandpa book is published in 2025.
In the meantime, let’s listen to the Dalai Lama. It’s time to take action—compassionately—to stand up for the safety of all grandchildren.
Comments Off on The Good Grandpa Book Journey. Day 180.
When I set out to write the Good Grandpa book, I went into the experience with ears and eyes wide open to whatever might come my way. I’d heard from…
When I set out to write the Good Grandpa book, I went into the experience with ears and eyes wide open to whatever might come my way.
I’d heard from historian and author Doris Kearns Goodwin that the right story for a book needs to find you, not the other way around. She explained that she set out to write the definitive biography of Abraham Lincoln, but as she learned more about the men who competed with Lincoln for the presidency a far more fascinating story emerged. The result was her extraordinary book, Team of Rivals.
Today I’m about half-way through my book journey—about 50,000 words—the result of many interviews with amazing grandpas from different walks of life (and waking up at 5am with lots of strong coffee as I tackle new chapters). This has been quite an experience.
The stories I’ve heard from grandpas have been extraordinary.
I’ve been deeply moved so many times, surprised by twists and turns, and found my own pathway as a grandpa illuminated by the wisdom that has been so generously shared with me.
Early on, I heard from legendary newsman Tom Brokaw that he believed every generation would have its own epic challenges to overcome, the kind of struggle that could forge our grandchildren to become the new greatest generation. The key was to learn from each challenge and become even stronger.
Tom Brokaw
I heard from John Cleese that it’s more important to find the truth than believe you know the truth, that sometimes absolute certainty can get in the way of learning.
Me with my comedy God, the great John Cleese.
I spoke with a grandfather who discovered the power of prayer to heal his cancer-stricken granddaughter, and in the process found his path back to God.
Eric Behr rediscovered his spirituality.
I met with a Muslim grandfather from India who sees our grandchildren as already the greatest generation of all time, bestowed with extraordinary gifts and opportunity, but in need of a greater sense of gratitude.
Recently, I spoke with three different grandpa Veterans, including a Vietnam combat Vet who shared a story that blew me away.
Gresh Lattimore, retired Navy Captain.
I have a long way to go before I finish, but I’ve definitely had an epiphany.
I set out on a mission to bring together stories and wisdom to help nurture the next great generation.
This purpose was grounded in the concept of changing our grandchildren and their future so they could live their best lives. What I’ve learned, however, is that I’m the one who has to change first. The youngest people in our growing family look up to me, and I must lead by example. There can be no pontificating.
Over the past 6 months, when I’ve questioned grandpas and probed for the essential wisdom they wished to impart to our grandchildren, I’ve heard the most powerful things. Many times before telling me their answers, these grandpas pause and then say, “I’m going to tell you something I wish someone had told me fifty years ago.”
I can’t wait to share these things with you when the book is published in the second half of 2025. All I can tell you now, without spoiling the happy ending, is that a pattern is emerging.
Stay tuned, and thank you for coming along with me on this journey. I’m very grateful. If you or someone you know has a story to share, please don’t hesitate to reach out.
Once upon a time in a land far away and long ago, my dad used to make up stories for us at bedtime. All his stories involved the same seven…
Once upon a time in a land far away and long ago, my dad used to make up stories for us at bedtime.
All his stories involved the same seven characters, Casper, Jasper, and five boys named Calvin, Charlie, Nick, John and Ted — me and my four older brothers. I recall loving the stories, but that’s all I remember because they were never written down.
When my two kids where little, I took a page from my dad’s dreamtime creative playbook and made up my own stories to tell them at bedtime. My kids remember loving the stories, but that’s all they remember because I never wrote them down.
These days, coming up with stories that feature my grandkids is as wonderful for me as it is for them, and maybe I’ve finally learned my lesson because I’ve started writing them down so they’ll never be lost.
My grandkids jump into bed and implore me, “Grandpa, tell us a story!”
Then—like the grandpa in The Princess Bride—I spin a tale of magical adventures. I’ll often pause in the middle of a story to offer up different branching pathways and give the grandkids a choice of which way to go, or ask them to create and vote on the best solution for beating the dragon, crossing the fiery swamp or outwitting the ogre.
Of course, it’s inevitable that they get so excited that going to sleep is impossible. I completely fail at the ‘get the kids calmed down’ concept and I’ve taken some heat for it. I beg forgiveness. Many years from now, my grandkids will never remember that they lost a few hours of sleep, but they will remember the stories I told them and the special time we had together.
These are Forever Stories, cut from the same cloth as Forever Letters but with a creative twist.
Here’s a recent tale:
Lucinda had been playing with her Teddy Bears—Henry, Charlie, Roen and Mae—for much of the afternoon on a green spring day in the little town of Oakdale, Connecticut, when she yawned very wide and said, “Oh goodness. It must be nap time.”
Lucinda’s mom, Fern, called up from downstairs just at that moment, “Lucinda! Time for your nap!”
Lucinda gave her bears a big hug and a kiss, and set them down side by side in the playroom. “Sleep tight, my fair princes,” she said. Lucinda’s mom tucked her into bed and soon the little girl fell into a deep sleep.
But in the playroom, things were just starting to wake up.
In the dimness, a small red light blinked on and a man’s voice crackled over a radio. “Calling all Teddy Bear Rescue Squads. Calling all Teddy Bear Rescue Squads. Can you read me?”
The Bears jumped to their feet and ran to the radio. Charlie pressed the red button and whispered, “Squad one reporting! I repeat, squad one reporting! Over.”
“Roger that, squad one!” said the voice. “We need you down at the playground immediately! A tiger has gotten loose from the zoo, and if he’s not put back in his cage who knows what could happen!”
“No problem!” said Henry. “We’re on it, Chief!”
“Let’s go!” piped up Roen, a girl bear.
“Let’s go!” chimed in Mae, Roen’s little sister, who was learning how to talk and often repeated whatever her sister said.
The bears had a quick meeting, trying to keep their Teddy Bear voices down. In case you’ve never heard a Teddy Bear talk, it’s a very high pitch, almost like hearing a baby ask for crackers or something. Use your imagination.
The question now was, should they take the Rescue Squad race car, the mini-jet, or the hot air balloon?
“This is my thinking,” said Charlie, “if we take the mini-jet we might get there faster but there’s no place to land at the playground. The racecar would be pretty fast, but if we take the hot air balloon we can bring the animal cage to put the tiger in. The cage won’t fit in the car.”
“Excellent idea!” said Henry, a little too loudly, apparently, for they suddenly heard footsteps in the hall getting closer to their door.
The bears jumped back to sit exactly where Lucinda had left them and sat very still, trying to make their glass eyes look blank, so that if Fern peaked in she wouldn’t suspect that they were real live bears with a secret mission in the Teddy Bear Rescue Squad.* They heard the footsteps stop just outside the door, as if Fern had stopped to listen, but then they moved on.
“Quick!” Henry whispered.
“Yea,” Charlie whispered back, “before anyone spots us!”
“’I’ll bring some blueberries!” said Roen, who always enjoyed snacks even during emergencies.
They grabbed the hot air balloon from the closet and hung it out the window, then used the air machine to pump hot air into the balloon, which quickly grew in size. Then they attached the red and blue striped basket to the bottom of the balloon with ropes, and below that they hung the animal cage.
Within minutes they were floating above the house and over the trees as the wind blew them towards the school playground.
Charlie used the spyglass to navigate. “Left, twenty degrees!” he ordered. “Good, now down a bit – WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!” They barely missed hitting the top of a big oak tree with its branches that seemed to reach out towards them like arms.
“Look!” Henry squeaked as he peered through the spyglass, “the tiger!”
“Let me see!” Charlie said, taking hold of the spyglass. “Wow!”
Roen had her turn, too. “That’s a big tiger!” she said when she saw the yellow and black striped beast pacing next to the swing set, its tail swishing side to side.
“That’s a big tiger!” Mae said.
Mrs. Moore, one of the teachers at the school, was perched on top of the swing set clutching the metal bar for dear life, staring down at the tiger pacing hungrily below.
The Squad arrived over the playground and hovered there as they worked out a plan. How would they get the tiger into the cage to save Mrs. Moore?
“I could blast it with my stun rocket,” Henry said.
“I could make it fall asleep by shooting it with an arrow tipped with sleeping powder!” said Charlie.
“Let’s cast a magic spell!” Roen said.
Mae stomped her feet and said, “I’ll kick it in the face!”
Everyone looked at Mae, wondering when she’d learned to say something like that and how the tiger would respond if kicked in the face by Mae’s little boot with its silver sparkles and a picture of Elsa from Disney’s Frozen.
All of these ideas could work, they decided, but were a bit risky.
Roen got out her blueberries to have a snack, offering a bowl of them to the rest. They munched the sweet blueberries for a minute, thinking hard to make the right decision. Then Roen had an epiphany, which is like an idea that pops into your head, “I’ll put my blueberries into the cage so the hungry tiger will go in and eat them. Then we’ll slam the door shut!”
Mae piped in, “Then we’ll slam the door shut!”
“Yes!” Henry said, pumping the air with his furry brown fist, “That’s how Grandpa Ted catches groundhogs. If it works for groundhogs, it’ll work for a tiger!”
“But do tigers eat blueberries?” asked Charlie.
“There’s only one way to find out!” Henry said.
“Find out!” Mae said.
Roen was lowered down on a rope towards the cage, which was hanging below the hot air balloon. Being as careful as possible, she attached a bag of blueberries to one side of the cage with tape. Henry and Charlie hauled her back up and she plopped down into the air balloon’s basket. “I’ve never done THAT before,” Roen said breathlessly.
“Well done, Roen!” Charlie and Henry said.
“Well done, Roen!” Mae said.
They positioned the hot air balloon directly over the tiger and—bit-by-bit—lowered the cage down to the playground. When Mrs. Moore saw them, her eyes filled with wonder because Teddy Bears flying around in balloons is not something you see every day.
The tiger looked up and growled, “Who is this who dares disturb my snack time?”
But when the tiger saw the cage and walked towards it, he grew curious. He walked into the cage slowly, further and further, sniffing the bag holding the blueberries.
The tiger growled, “Is it meat?”
“No,” said Roen.
“Is it cheese pizza?”
“No,” said Charlie.
The tiger licked the outside of the bag, curiously. “Is it candy?”
“Much better than candy!” said Henry.
“Much better than candy!” Mae said.
This is when Roen took out her ukulele and sang her blueberry song, “Blueberry, blueberry, bluuuuuuuue…..berry!”
The tiger could not resist. With one giant chomp he bit the whole bag of blueberries right off the back of the cage and chewed, a look of heavenly satisfaction spreading across his big cat face.
Quick as a wink Charlie pulled a rope that snapped that cage shut.
Oh, the tiger did not like being trapped one bit. He roared, blueberries clinging to his huge teeth as he bit the bars of the cage in vain. Mrs. Moore, however, was delighted. She jumped down off the swing set and looked up in gratitude as the balloon—now towing the furious tiger inside the cage—rose up into the sky.
“Who, er, what are you?” she called up to them.
“We’re the TEDDY BEAR RESCUE SQUAD!” they shouted.
Henry, Charlie, Roen and Mae flew over to the zoo and lowered the cage down inside, then fast as birds they fluttered their way back home, let the air out of the balloon and crawled back through a window. It was good they did, because just after they’d sat down in the pile of other toys, Fern (who thought she’d heard something) popped her head into the room. But all she saw was four Teddy Bears sitting absolutely still.
The Zoo was grateful to have a real tiger, something they’d always wanted. They set it loose in their African savanna area so it could roam around freely.
What the zookeepers could never figure out, though, was why the tiger never wanted to eat the bowls of red meat they put in his cage.
All the tiger would eat was fresh fruit, brought in by the truckload.
Over time, the zoo bought four more tigers to add to its collection. On any given day, though, you can easily tell which of them is the tiger that terrorized Mrs. Moore in the playground. It’s the one sitting, its belly stuffed, in a pile of banana peels and bits of blueberries, apples, oranges, grapes and mangos. On Thursdays he gets a special treat of pineapples, which he eats in one gulp. He never ate meat again. Kids visiting the zoo named him Fruity the Tiger. And that, oh my best beloved, is the end of the story.
It turns out lots of grandpas make up stories for their grandkids, and one in particular— Andre Renna, from Lancaster, Pennsylvania—took the idea to a whole new level.
Andre reached out to me through my blog and we had a great conversation in Zoom-land where I learned about his family roots and his storybook grandpa creations. Andre, 70, is a retired engineer and healthcare manager who grew up in a classic Italian-American family in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn.
“I had the greatest childhood in the world,” Andre told me, “My cousins lived in the house with me. We’d sit on the porch and watch the Mets on TV and have some expresso and sweet pastry. I’d walk to my grandmother’s house four blocks away.”
Andre’s dad was his hero, a solid presence in his life who worked multiple jobs to make sure there was always food on the table, with Italian feasts served up by his mom.
Andre had a close relationship with both his grandfather, a bricklayer, and his grandmother. “I inherited some of my grandfather’s tools— trowels, a hammer” Andre said, “those things are precious to me.”
Andre and his wife raised their two kids in Lancaster, and today they have two grandkids. His granddaughter, Aria, arrived on the scene first, launching a wonderful new chapter in Andre’s life. “She is without a doubt the light of my life,” Andre told me, “Everyone else is a close second. I have a beard because of Aria (Papa, grow a beard!).”
Andre’s #1 wisdom he wants to share with the next generation is to never break a promise. “Your word,” he said, “is the most important thing you have.”
When Aria was 18 months old, she won a stuffed yellow duck at a seaside boardwalk arcade. Aria’s Ducky became a much-loved companion that she carried everywhere — even into her imagination.
One day when Aria was 5, Andre was pushing her on the swing. “And she says, ‘I want to have a surprise birthday party for Ducky.’ And then she disappears because I’m pushing her and she’s still talking, right? We were on the swing for forty-five minutes, and she told me this whole story…”
“Everyone will be at the party,” Aria said, “Penguin, Turtle, Unicorn….”
WHOOSH!
“Flamingo, Snakey and T-Rex and….”
WHOOSH!
“But Jasmine the cat is going to ruin the party…”
WHOOSH!
“In the end Ducky will be OK because he knows we really love him.”
When they went inside, Andre excitedly told his wife the whole story. His wife told him, “Why don’t you write it as a book?” Andre replied, “What the heck do I know about writing a children’s book?”
“Just do it!”
When Andre related this, I was reminded—based on my personal experience—that the smartest thing we can do as grandpas is to listen to our wives.
Andre immediately went to work, embarking on a remarkable collaboration with Aria to create a new children’s book, The Adventures of Aria and Ducky: The Surprise Birthday Party, featuring a little girl named Aria and her menagerie of animals.
The Surprise Birthday Party, a collaboration between Andre and his granddaughter.
He started by simply writing down the story Aria had shared with him; she, along with Andre’s wife and sister, offered up suggestions and corrections to polish the draft. Andre then hired a professional illustrator, David Leonard, to bring the story to life.
For Andre and Aria, the smallest details mattered.
Aria would review the working drafts and say things like, “that doesn’t look like Ducky” or “Jasmine the cat is the wrong color.” Andre was diligent about making sure that the Aria character looked just like the Aria, from facial features to blond hair. “I said to the illustrator, it has to look like her because I want to be able to say, that’s my granddaughter. And in the future I want her to be able to show this to her kids and grandkids. I drove him nuts.” It was worth it.
Andre Renna shown here with his granddaughter, Aria, and Ducky.
When the book launched, Andre and Aria did their own promotional push, appearing on local TV stations and doing interviews for newspapers.
While Andre has sold numerous copies of the book, he’s found a bigger audience by donating copies to pediatric hospitals.
The genesis of the book, with characters based on toys and featuring real children, will have a familiar ring to students of classic children’s literature. Winnie-the-Pooh came about when English author A. A. Milne was inspired by a stuffed bear toy that he had bought for his son Christopher Robin.
But whether or not The Adventures of Aria and Ducky ever becomes well known doesn’t ultimately matter, and the same is true for The Teddy Bear Rescue Squad.
What does matter is that these stories have a chance to become classics in the lives of our families.
I think about the magic of storytelling a lot when I ponder what our grandkids will need in order to become the greatest generation. Many young children live in a world that’s rich with imagination. The couch cushions are their castle walls, a chopstick is Harry Potter’s magic wand. But somewhere along the line—perhaps when they are lined up in rigid rows at school—their flights of fancy become more grounded, their creativity stymied by the need to pass the next test. Yet the truth is that being creative throughout their entire lives may be the ultimate test, the best thing they can bring to their own families, and indeed to employers.
The World Economic Forum’s Future of Jobs Survey found that creative thinking skills are a top priority when considering talent.
Artificial Intelligence will eat a billion jobs, but the careers of genuinely creative people will be secure for all time.
If we follow the example of Andre and Aria, and A. A. Milne, the next generation will always have their secret forest to walk in, their Hundred Acre Wood, a place where wise owls talk, where the mysterious heffalump eludes even the best trackers, and our favorite bear devours pots of delicious honey. Ducky, Casper, Jasper, Christopher Robin, Calvin, Charlie, Nick, John and Ted will also live in the forest, plus my grandkids and yours, forever and ever.
And that, oh my best beloved, is the end of the story.
Note: If you’d like a signed copy of The Adventures of Aria and Ducky, contact Andre here: awrenna@comcast.net
*Just out of curiosity I recently Googled “Teddy Bear Rescue Squad” and discovered that a woman in England is crafting outfits for a Teddy Bear Rescue Squad. Small world!
