Of Miracles and Tragedies

The past week has been a veritable whirlwind of activity, and some of the events inspired me to write something brand-new and previously unplanned. Normally, I try to alternate posts every week between new content and an audio version of something from last year. Based on that pattern, this week should feature an audio blog post with content from Fall 2025. Yet here I am, writing something all-new. Last weekend, I was initially inspired to write this post while on a plane ride to my niece’s wedding in the Boston area. That trip, along with my observations from it, ultimately led to most of this post, but other events have also transpired since my return that provide even more perspective. And away we go…

How was the wedding, you ask? Fabulous. My niece and her new husband have actually been together for roughly a decade, officially engaged for half that time, and the running joke throughout the weekend was that “it’s about time.” Naturally, people are going to give them some kind of friendly grief over their willingness to stay together without marrying. I’m not one of those, though. I figure that as long as they’re happy, they’re happy, and they can decide what to do and when to do it when the time comes. Which they did. And one of the cool things about the wedding itself was that, because they did wait a while, they’ve already established careers and set aside some income, allowing them to host the events of their wedding at some amazing venues. I would have to say the best part was the ceremony itself, held at a country club south of Boston that’s located on a hill overlooking the city. Breathtaking views of the fall foliage, the city of Boston itself, and even some of the coastline. A college friend of the groom who happens to be the son of a well-known actor officiated the ceremony, and he did a phenomenal job speaking on their relationship and overseeing the vows. The weather was near-perfect, the food at the cocktail hour and reception was amazing, and even the DJ was on-point. Talk about a flawless celebration, and I’m confident it reflects well on the happy couple. I wish them all the best, and I can’t wait until our family can return to the Boston area sometime to take in a Red Sox game (the groom’s a huge fan) and see all the culture and history that the city has to offer.

That spectacular view really captured how miraculous nature, and our place in it,  can be. A cousin of mine attending the wedding looked out at the landscape and remarked, “I see things like this, and it makes me think about how people came to settle here years ago, and all it took for the area to develop, but there’s still beautiful views like this.” And she’s right. It’s a bit of a miracle that landscapes like that exist, and we should acknowledge it. It’s even more of a miracle that all the things allowing friends and family to come together for that event exist, because we traveled from places far and wide. For me, the miracles of the weekend began more than 24 hours before the ceremony. Anytime I fly, I’m always a little in awe of everything about the airport: the layout, the systems used to bring planes to departure and arrival, even the highways that come together to allow people to access the complex. I even marvel at all the food options inside. I think that comes from my years in education: walk into any high school cafeteria on a weekday, especially one where students cannot or do not leave campus for lunch, and you’ll see the culmination of a miraculous network of food providers, preparers, and servers working to deliver sustenance to hundreds of teenagers, plus adults in the building. And that happens at thousands of campuses every single day. So when I walk into any food court area, I have a similar impression. And at the airport, it’s perhaps even more pronounced because of the generally wondrous nature of the place. Thousands of travelers, each of whom is about to enter a machine that is miraculous in itself, getting food. And some of them will also get some kind of food and drink on the aircraft itself. Civilization has created miracles over the centuries, and we get to live them in our day-to-day lives.

The appreciation that I have for the nature of the food system, specifically — plus the fact that I waited tables in college and have knowledge of its inner workings — are at the heart of my bemusement when people complain, and sometimes emotionally “crash out,” when there are problems. Sure, I get that the school lunch may not be the greatest meal, but it’s hardly inedible. I actually remember some school meals from when I was in high school that were really good. And I know my dearly departed maternal grandmother, who managed a high school cafeteria for decades, ensured that the students in that building dined on the absolute best. (I had the privilege of enjoying her cooking when I was younger.) I understand that sometimes your meal gets made wrong, or is missing the side, or otherwise has problems. Ask for the restaurant to correct it; I promise they will as a matter of course if they want to stay in business. But is it really necessary to lose your mind over it, to treat your server poorly, to refuse to leave a tip, or in the most extreme cases, to attempt not to pay? It’s not like restaurants owners are making massive sums of easy money. It’s often a struggle just to break even, whether it’s a franchise of a large chain or a simple local establishment. These are all humans working very hard to put your meal on the table, sometimes stuff happens, and sometimes people make mistakes. You might want to think that a tragedy has befallen you when they accidentally put pickles on your burger, but let’s get real here. The real tragedy occurs if you’re unable to remain calm as you take the pickles off or ask them to make the burger again. Instead of appreciating the miracles unfolding before us, we too often concoct calamities because things don’t go according to plan.

So many in this country in 2026 seem obsessed with playing the victim. They’re the stars of their personal movies, so they have expectations, dammit. And when those expectations aren’t met, it is a catastrophe of monumental proportions. Weep for them! Except…it’s not catastrophic, they’re not victims, and no tragedy has taken place. They just need to get over themselves. It’s actually one of the reasons I enjoyed the wedding I attended last weekend so much: no one had lavish, over-the-top expectations. My niece was no “bridezilla.” Her husband is nice and easy-going. They kept things simple and classy. The officiant’s remarks were quite personal because of his history with both of them, but also tasteful and elegant. The speeches by family members were heartfelt and authentic, not performative. The requisite dances were dignified; no one sought to go viral or otherwise overshadow the proceedings. Now, I know some couples like to do bits for their respective wedding dances that are suitable for social media, and that’s fine. But I would suggest that for every one of those bits that looks cool and plays well online, there are at least three that are mostly just failed, silly adventures in regret and awkwardness. I had immense respect for how my niece and her husband kept the proceedings sophisticated. Sometimes the easiest way to create a great, memorable moment is not to attempt to force something born of specific expectations, but instead keep plans simple and allow the moment to unfold organically. Last weekend proved it. In a world that often tries to be so carefully orchestrated out of self-obsession, it was refreshing.

Refreshing, too, were the behaviors of my fellow travelers on the flights to and from Boston. Too often, we see videos of people acting like absolute idiots on planes, and it makes us wary, thinking that the other people inside this aluminum-titanium-carbon-fibre tube are, more than likely, insane. But the reality is that “the miracle of flight” is an apt term, even though we often take it for granted. I will never not appreciate the nature of the system that ostensibly ensures our security, leads all of us to the jetways, loads us on the planes, and gets us into the air, to our destinations, and on the ground again safely. It doesn’t work perfectly, but then, nothing operated by humanity does 100% of the time. There are inconveniences at times. There’s a bit of the “hurry up and wait” phenomenon. These are not tragedies; they are minor annoyances. I know that sometimes air travel can go way off the planned path due to poor planning and communication — sometimes by the airlines themselves — and those situations should be addressed appropriately. But they are the exception, not the norm, much like the meal that gets ruined.

And yet, here we are at times, bad-mouthing an industry that generally works daily miracles, much like the school lunch industry. Why is that? I humbly submit that it often comes down to our own unrealistic expectations of perfection (Expectations that we don’t often hold for ourselves, by the way). Those expectations infiltrate so much of our daily lives, sometimes born of our own minds, often facilitated by a social media culture that encourages us to highlight our kick-a** lives for the world to see. That culture teaches us to attack, not appreciate. It teaches us to expect, not accept. It’s not cool to say, “This school remarkably fed 3,000 people successfully in a two-hour timeframe.” And it’s not cool to say, “My plane took off an hour late because of an issue with the previous arrival, but it was still a safe, smooth flight with smooth takeoff and landing. And air travel is amazing.” And it’s really not cool to say, “This wedding at a gorgeous venue went off without any problems, the bride and groom genuinely love each other, and there was no drama.” Because again, so many of us have our personal movies to cast, to script, to direct, to produce. And we convince ourselves we need them out there for public consumption, getting clicks, views, likes, engagement, from somewhere or someone. And when it doesn’t go our way, we tell ourselves that our lives are filled with tragedy. Nay, with bullying and abuse! Things have been done to us. Those family members said something, or perhaps didn’t say what we wanted them to say. That barista made the drink wrong, and it’s gotta be intentional. That server is ignoring us, despises us, or is lazy, or is somehow a bad person. That flight attendant is incompetent because he/she didn’t fulfill our wishes immediately. That teacher is out to indoctrinate our kids, don’t you know! You and your very way of life are under attack, after all. And it can’t be that this is simply how life goes sometimes; it has to be some grand conspiracy of your family, the media, that political party, the “deep state,” or all of the above at once. And that is why tragedy has befallen you. So please click and donate. Or at least affirm your point of view. Or comment with supportive words. Or use the hug emoji. Or worse, find out who this offending person is, and send them random, hateful text or direct messages.

But the truth is, none of it is real suffering, nor is it tragedy. Real tragedy happened just this week when Eric Bauza, a voiceover artist who had provided the voices of Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, among countless others over the past two decades, passing away suddenly at age 46 apparently because of a heart condition about. I didn’t know Eric well at all, but I did have a chance to meet him at a voiceover conference in 2024, and he was a cool, down-to-earth, approachable guy. I feel for all his family and friends dealing with his loss right now. Real tragedy is a young man ending his own life for unknown reasons rather than seeking the help that others are willing to offer. Real tragedy is a child whose sole safe and happy space is school because of a home life that is abusive or otherwise corrosive. Real tragedy is found in the living conditions of so many in this world who were not fortunate enough to be born in a country as stable or wealthy as this one, wondering when they might be able to eat again instead of deciding which place is “worthy” of their dining dollars. The truth is, we live in a miraculous time and place. The very things we consider mundane aspects of daily life were beyond anyone’s imagination just a few centuries ago. We experience such wealth and convenience that so many of us eventually lose our abilities for emotional regulation when we’re saddled with inconvenience. When things don’t go our way. Our obsession with victimhood attached to our own self-absorption too often overshadows real tragedies, and worse, causes us to avoid appreciating the daily miracles of life all around us. Lack of appreciation, failure to recognize just how miraculous both the natural and man-made aspects of life can be…that’s the real tragedy.