By J. Michael Willard I am doomed and damned to reflect on birthdays. The value of a vertical existence becomes more compelling, even necessary for us who have piled on responsibilities like a chocolate layer cake. But you want more — adventure, peace, achievement, Springsteen’s glory days — and all…

By J. Michael Willard Russia’s dictator Putin has ballyhooed a promised victory over Ukraine by May 9, which honors the traditional day set aside where many European countries celebrate World War II liberation. Hold your horses Vladimir. You will have egg on your face. I am reminded of Prince Vasily…

By Michael Willard Three decades ago in Washington, D.C., my boss looked across the table and asked: “How would you like to lead a large USAID market reform program in Ukraine?” I asked, “Where’s Ukraine?” “Heck, if I know,” he replied. “Somewhere near Russia.” Today, almost everyone with a radio…

By Michael Willard I looked up at the portrait of Maria Sosiura, surrounded as it was by a menagerie of tributes to her husband, Vladimir, a poet of the Russian revolution. In my thoughts, I embraced the stillness and whisperings of the writer’s cavernous study. Maria looked pleasant enough but…

By Michael Willard I doubt you have heard the story of the four-year-old tyke who looked up at his father and said with sincerity, “I want to be a PR guy when I grow up.” It would fail the suspension of disbelief test. However, with shrinking newspapers these days, the…

By Michael Willard It came to my attention decades ago that a metaphor for life was a silver cylinder in a pinball machine. While on occasion, I lit up the board, most events — success or failure — came about by happenstance. Because of this, I can’t claim second sight…

By Michael Willard It came to my attention decades ago that a metaphor for life was a silver cylinder in a pinball machine. While on occasion, I lit up the board, most events — success or failure — came about by happenstance. Because of this, I can’t claim second sight…

By Michael Willard I once suggested to my wife that given the certainty I will slip earth’s bonds someday, she should, at the proper time, hold auditions for her next husband. She’s younger than my favorite guitar, and I am old enough to remember 29-cent gasoline. She didn’t object, which…

By J. Michael Willard Dr. Samuel Johnson — yes, that 18th Century literary chap — taught me my greatest lesson in leadership: “Nothing will ever be attempted if all possible objections must first be overcome.” The inscription was noted on a laminated card that was proof I had, indeed, graduated…