Hillary Clinton distanced herself from President Obama’s cautionary guide to international relations. But I thought his motto was good advice for most matters. Not that I’ve always avoided doing stupid stuff, and you can probably think of a few times you’ve not followed that advice either.

When individuals do stupid stuff, it’s usually a problem only for them. But when political leaders mis-step, it’s a problem for us.

Tom Menino, for example, didn’t always do the wisest thing, even though we still loved him. He and other officials muffed the Seaport District. It’s probably the stupidest stuff the city has recently done.

First, the name. The Seaport District is not South Boston just like the Boston Common is not Beacon Hill. But the pols caved into parochial minds and called it the South Boston Waterfront, a name no one uses. The city tried to make an end run around the matter, anointing it the Innovation District. But that doesn’t work, since the city applied no innovation in creating it.

For example, why didn’t we build a fast subway line through the Seaport, into South Boston and alongside the Ted Williams tunnel to the airport? Fifteen years ago, the district was raw, empty land—perfect for digging a long, deep ditch without bothering anyone. It would have been relatively cheap. It would have meant that several areas of the city poorly served by rapid transit would have had a crack at getting out of their cars.

Instead, we have gridlock on the Seaport’s wide streets and bottlenecks at the bridges. Don’t you think officials could have predicted this outcome with so few options to vehicles? The rest of us did.

The Silver Line doesn’t hack it. On a Sunday morning, it takes seven minutes by cab from my house to the airport. By Red Line, then Silver Line? Almost an hour. So much for bus “rapid” transit.

Another Seaport problem can be laid at the feet of the BRA. The buildings are boring. Many observers have been talking about this. A few weeks ago, Robert Campbell, the city’s authoritative architecture critic, published a column echoing this disappointment with Seaport architecture.

Instead of creating a region that looks like Crystal City near D.C., the city could have required developers to build five-story townhouses on side streets in exchange for permission to build the squat, boxy structures now filling entire blocks. They could have imposed a street grid that varied wide streets with narrow ones, and long blocks with short ones. Aren’t these guys supposed to be urban planners?

Maybe the wide streets can be repurposed. We could run streetcar tracks down the middle from South Boston and over the Fort Point Channel, splitting into two directions at Atlantic Avenue, ending up at both rail stations. Or maybe it’s too late to save the district from a problem everyone could have predicted from the get-go.

Another stupid step the city took in the Seaport District was deciding to ignore institutions that make neighborhoods good places to live. It did not set aside land or funds to build a branch library. One developer proposed a private school, for which he was mocked. His idea, however, was better than no school at all.

What has happened to the micro-apartments that were intended to appeal to young whippersnappers starting new companies? Unfortunately, at the high rent charged for these tight spaces, the whippersnappers probably couldn’t afford them. I feared these spaces would become new-style tenements, poorly maintained because temporary residents don’t care much.

And that is the sad part of the stupid stuff we’ve done in the Seaport District. With no neighborhood institutions, small apartments, chain restaurants and no public transportation, the district reads as anywhere USA and temporary, a short stay for young people before they have kids and light out for the suburbs because the Seaport is hostile to families.

Some of these problems may work themselves out. The Boston Convention and Exhibition Center this summer installed an interesting playground, one of the only innovations in the Innovation District. It may inspire other builders when they install the few green spaces they are required to provide.

At some point a group of residents may become frustrated about having no school or library and set up a persistent tune that grates on city officials’ ears enough to provide such amenities.

Reportedly a movie theatre is going in, and maybe a supermarket will find its way to the district, but if the North End’s experience is an example, the wait could be long.

Right now, all the stupid stuff we’ve done to this district means that no one I know is eager to pick up and move there. It will take a long time to recover from the lack of good planning we’ve so far seen.

I recently met a happy man.

Why shouldn’t he be happy? He has what most men want: loving parents, a wife, Jana, who was his high school sweetheart, two cute little boys, a house, good friends, family members who live nearby, good training and a good job. He also possesses a fine sense of humor and good looks.

Aside from his parents and looks, he has achieved his blessings on his own. He made me ponder a question I’ve often considered—how is it that some people figure out life and others don’t?

Maybe it is because the ones who don’t are not tower crane operators, or in the industry jargon, “operating engineers.” About 100 cranes are operating now in the city of Boston. Fifteen are tower cranes.

Thirty-five year old Robert J. Amoroso, RJ for short, operates that gorgeous, red Potain tower crane rising 200 feet (for now) against a blue sky on Franklin Street at Millennium’s growing tower at Filene’s. Counting the operating engineer’s training school in Canton, his apprenticeship and then employment, RJ has hoisted materials for 15 years at power plants, paper mills, bridges, tunnels, and high rises and placed them (don’t say “dropped”) gently on a surface.

“It’s the best job in the world,” RJ said.

That is one clue to contentment—he’s passionate about his work.

RJ climbed his first crane when he was a child. His father, also an operating engineer, showed him the ropes, and RJ knew the job was for him. “He had me running the boom,” he said.

RJ was also impressed with his father’s union, the International Union of Operating Engineers Local 4, a community of men and women who look out for one another. That is another ingredient of contentment—being part of a trusted community.

RJ works hard. He’s up early, driving from his home in Easton into a garage on Franklin Street. Typically, he arrives at 5:30 a.m. so he can climb the crane, check out its parts and get ready for the construction team that shows up about 6 a.m. He stays in the six-by-six-foot cab until the work day is over, which can be 8, 10 or even 12 hours. He is accompanied by his “oiler,” the apprentice operator who assists him. If the ladders leading to the cab are icy from a snow storm, or if a heavy wind buffets the crane, no crane work takes place.

He has his lunch with him. Bathroom breaks involve bottles and buckets. The hardest part of the job, he says, is staying mentally strong. “People’s lives are in our hands,” he said. And thousands of dollars in materials.

Glass, for example, can’t be broken if you’re a tower crane operator trying to set it on a surface surrounded by guys waiting to release it from its straps. And you can’t hit the guys.

RJ likes the view from the cab and is proud of his skill in operating the crane. People who work hard, acquire a skill and then deploy it to accomplish something greater than they are—in RJ’s case, building a giant building that could stand for centuries—will probably be happier than those who don’t achieve such goals.

RJ makes good money, and a well-paying job is another ingredient for happiness. Tower crane operators are paid, counting all benefits, between $75 and $90 an hour, with take-home pay around $55 an hour—double for overtime. RJ cautions that days can add up between jobs, so following his father’s example, he plans on being out of a job six months of any year, although that hasn’t happened recently.

Operating a tower crane can be dangerous work, but one peril RJ hadn’t counted on was tangling with a hawk.

As he was climbing a crane last year at Tata Hall at the Harvard Business School, a hawk attacked him, ripping his arm and causing him to fall upside into the cage around the ladder below. After 16 stitches and four days rest, he was back on the job.

RJ’s crane is now at the highest level it can go without being attached to the building. That will occur in December, and it will gradually rise to 610 feet as the building rises. It is slated to come down next October.

Jana recently brought the boys to the parking garage near the crane to watch their father work. The boys were transfixed. “They can’t get enough of it,” said RJ.

Soon, when Bobby Junior is five years old, RJ will put him in a harness and climb with him to the cab.

It looks as if happiness will continue into the next generation.

The controversy over bringing the Summer Olympics to Boston in 2024 is soooooo Boston. It’s got all the usual characters, all the usual conflicts. It’s the grumps vs. the dreamers. Cautionists (seen as wise) vs. gung-hoists (seen as foolhardy.) Pessimists vs. optimists. Naysayers vs. soothsayers. It is a rich narrative to follow, and it looks as if it will continue for at least several more weeks.

I’ll say at the outset: I’ve got no skin in this game. The Summer Olympics are not high on my list. On the other hand, I like a good spectacle, and I’m willing to put up with inconvenience to enjoy it.

It is curious that both the promoters and the doom-sayers tout Boston’s characteristics —the best universities in the world, devoted sports fans, deep history and most of all, a place so innovative that it has a 1,000 acre Innovation District, and entrepreneurs so cutting edge that they lurk in micro-apartments, starting companies, taking them public and making a killing.

If we’re so innovative and entrepreneurial, then why aren’t we all behind bringing the Olympics to Boston? It is the quintessential entrepreneurial venture. And it requires innovation. Of course it will cost zillions, be a big mess, and we may have to pay off the Olympic Committee if we want to get the nod.

That’s what entrepreneurs do. They take big risks. They can lose oodles of money, much of it belonging to other people. They might fail. They face problems. They can get scammed.

I know because I once was an entrepreneur. I started a newspaper. I wrote a business plan. But I was scared of the unknowns. What if my costs outran my income? What if I had forgotten something? What if I were sued by the subject of a news story? What if it were too much to handle? How do you handle payroll anyway?

I even had to deal with corruption. A distributor phoned, threatening that if I didn’t use his company, he’d make sure I failed. (I asked him to fax over a bid, and he never did. Bullies have a hard time following up.)

Despite my anxiety, I went ahead. I wouldn’t find out if it worked unless I took serious risks. I consoled myself by saying it is only money. A couple of evenings I cried.

Gradually, things got easier. I actually made money. My employees got health care through the newspaper, since a business that can’t afford health care for its employees isn’t much of a business. Four employees were able to buy houses based on their earnings. My venture had been successful.

Bringing the Olympics to Boston isn’t different, except in scale, from any entrepreneurial effort.

The effort stands now at the business plan stage. John Fish and his cohorts are putting on the finishing touches, investigating aspects of what an Olympic bid entails and how the Olympics would work in Boston. The information they have gathered will be valuable. But, like all entrepreneurial ventures, this one has risks.

Many writers point them out. One letter to the editor in the Boston Globe inexplicably claimed that because Boston’s streets are not based on a grid, the city can’t handle such an event.

Other opponents point out real problems. They point out that cities have lost money, and that expensive structures, purpose-built, have had to be demolished. Writers point out the extreme costs, expected and non-expected, of such a pageant. Predictions are dire: the city will lose tourists, money, pride, and the ability to move around during the games. We’ll be distracted from addressing other needed matters. The Olympic Committee is corrupt and won’t treat us fairly. (This is when our former governor, Mitt Romney, with his Olympic experience, could come in handy.) Proponents and opponents differ on whether London made out well or terribly, but opponents are certain that Boston will suffer greatly.

If we’re such an entrepreneurial city, why are we so afraid of the real risks the opponents point out? If we’re so smart, why do we think we can’t solve the problems that will arise? World class? World Class cities dream big dreams and take risks.

It will be costly. Most important ventures are. Remember the doomsday group that opposed burying the Central Artery? They were right — it was expensive and difficult. But where would we be today had we taken their advice?

Bringing the Olympics to Boston will be risky. It will cost more than we budget for it. It will disrupt us as we build it, and it will disrupt us while it is going on. Somebody will have to fight with the Olympic Committee along the way.

I don’t know, if we are chosen, whether things will turn out badly or well. I do know that taking a risk and prevailing is one of the most satisfying things a person, and a city, can do. And remember, it is only money.

Fenway Park filled to the brim with plastic bottles. That dramatic image conveys the volume of bottle litter we throw away in Massachusetts each year. Most of it gets deposited in landfills. Some litter lingers in our gutters, along the roads, across the beaches and on the sidewalks. It’s pretty gross. It is irresponsible too.

Environmental organizations and well over half of the Massachusetts citizenry are disgusted with the way the legislature has ignored this problem.

So they have managed to get Question 2 on the ballot in the general election on November 4. “Expanding the Beverage Container Deposit Law,” would add water, juice, tea and sports drink bottles to the containers on which people pay a five-cent deposit that they get back when they redeem the bottle. You should vote yes on this matter.

Why? Because too many bottles are stuffing our landfills. Massachusetts’s original bottle bill, which we’ve had since 1983, demonstrates the effectiveness and efficiency of redeemable bottles, said Ken Pruitt, the managing director at the Environmental League of Massachusetts, one of many Massachusetts organizations supporting the expanded bottle bill.

The numbers don’t lie. The Massachusetts Department of Environmental Protection reports that 80 percent of redeemable bottles, such as soda cans, now get recycled. Only 23 percent of the non-redeemable bottles go into recycling.

You can imagine why. When on-the-go people carry portable bottles or cans, they might turn in the redeemable ones for the five cents. But the responsible ones might instead toss them into a trash bin. The irresponsible ones toss them anywhere.

In either case, if the bottle or can is redeemable, that container is often redeemed. Someone will come along, scoop up the empty container and take it to a shop to collect five cents. Some people make that activity a part-time job. If more on-the-go bottles were redeemable, more would be redeemed and recycled, never to see a landfill.

The bottle bill has also reduced litter. You can see the difference along Massachusetts highways, which have less litter than do New Hampshire highways, where no bottle bill creates an incentive to recycle.

Why not include wine bottles? They are already dependably recycled on the curb by many households, said Pruitt. So are containers for other beverages consumed in the home.

That’s because Massachusetts cities and towns have gotten better with recycling. Almost 50 percent of the state’s municipalities have curbside recycling. (In July Boston increased the number of recycling pick-up days in the week from one to two in some of the downtown neighborhoods. That should make a difference in the amount Bostonians recycle.)

Between 30 and 40 percent of the state’s cities and towns have “transfer stations” (formerly the town dump) to which residents are strongly encouraged to take their recyclables separately from their trash. And a good number of residents do so.

Some downtown residents may be skeptical. They put up with the trash pickers strewing trash about as they go through bags trying to find redeemable bottles. Will more redeemable bottles just make some neighborhoods dirtier?

Those neighborhoods, primarily the North End, Beacon Hill and parts of Charlestown, would probably not suffer any more than they do now. Savvy residents either redeem the bottles and cans themselves, or they put out any returnable bottles in a separate bag, making it easy for the trash pickers to collect them without tearing open the other bags.

Our family tackles the problem by not having many redeemable bottles, since we don’t buy water in bottles and we don’t like soft drinks. The trash pickers have given up on us. We also put out our tiny trash bag and our large recycle bag about 7:30 a.m. after most of the trash pickers have scoured our street.

The opposition, made up of mostly of big corporations outside the state, is spending big money to defeat this bill. But it’s hard to fathom why any sane person would think this bill is bad.

It is cheap for consumers—come on, five cents—and a lot cheaper than hauling all that mess to a landfill, which we eventually pay for. The opponents will say it hurts small business, which is plain silly. It’s an increase in inconvenience for the stores that have to redeem the bottles, but it is small and by now, stores are familiar with how to manage the flow. The benefits to the environment are many.

Since our lily-livered legislators and the bullies at corporate America won’t expand the kinds of bottles that can be redeemed, we’ll have to do it ourselves.

Don’t forget to vote on November 4, and don’t forget to vote yes to expand the bottle bill.

Everyone knows the Longfellow Bridge is being rebuilt. It is scheduled for completion in late 2016. But other bridges across the Charles and other waterways are also undergoing changes.

Here’s an update of what is happening, starting with the bridge farthest away from the downtown and moving east. Prepare yourself for lots of new lights.

Anderson Memorial Bridge

This bridge crosses the Charles from JFK Street in Cambridge to North Harvard Street next to the Harvard stadium in Allston. The bridge remains open, but is undergoing major reconstruction, said Rebecca Cyr of MassDOT, to be completed in June, 2016.

A benefit of the redo is the possibility of a new pedestrian/bike passageway beneath the bridge on the Boston side of the river so walkers and bikers can avoid crossing traffic. Cyr wrote in an email that discussions are ongoing about this. “The infrastructure to support a future pedestrian tunnel has been added to the original contract scope,” she said. Renata von Tscharner, president of the Charles River Conservancy, is more definite about this plan than Cyr is. Von Tscharner said the contract is being finalized, and the design should be finished by the end of the year.

The bridge’s arches will be permanently illuminated when construction is complete.

Weeks Bridge

The pedestrian bridge that crosses the river at the foot of DeWolfe Street in Cambridge has been under construction but still open to walkers since August, 2013, said William Hickey, acting spokesman for the Department of Conservation and Recreation. He said DCR is repairing the structure, adding new railings, improving drainage and handicap accessibility to the bridge, and shoring up the river bank. This bridge could not be closed because it serves as a primary viewing point for the Head of the Charles.

The construction should be complete by spring, 2015. When finished, the bridge’s arches will be illuminated and historic lighting along the walkway will be restored.

Western Avenue and River Street bridges

These are slated for reconstruction but the timetable is mushy. Richard Davey, the Massachusetts Secretary of Transportation, has expressed support for pedestrian underpasses on the Boston side for these bridges too.

These bridges are affected by the planning (or barely begun planning) at the Allston/Mass Pike interchange. If the underpasses are actually built, walkers and bikers will enjoy seven miles of uninterrupted, car-free paths from downtown Boston to the Arsenal Bridge in Watertown.

Harvard Bridge

Since this is Massachusetts, the bridge connecting Boston to MIT’s campus, is, of course, called the Harvard Bridge.

This bridge is non-descript. But the Charles River Conservancy procured $2.5 million from an anonymous donor and will light this bridge permanently with a design by bridge guru Miguel Rosales, said von Tscharner. The design is underway, and lights should be shining before December, 2015.

Footbridge across locks and canals

This is a dream footbridge, partly because it is only a dream, but also because it would be sublime. Miguel Rosales has a preliminary design for a Charles River pedestrian crossing incorporating two bridges on the up-river side of the Science Museum. One footbridge would begin on the Esplanade west of the Craigie Bridge, cross the Charles River locks, and land in the Science Museum’s back yard. A path would lead to a second bridge crossing the Lechmere Canal, connecting with the paths on the Cambridge side of the river. It might prompt the Science Museum to clean up its act along the river

This plan has no funding now, but if you have a few million dollars lying around, put them here.

Bascule Pedestrian Bridge

A bascule bridge lifts up by means of a counterweight to let tall boats go through. Such a bridge lies north of North Station. Commuter trains traverse it constantly to get to points north.

As mitigation for the Big Dig, Boston was promised a pedestrian bridge parallel to this bascule bridge. Rebecca Cyr of MassDOT said this bridge is still in project development. It seems to have been so for many years. Who knows if it will ever get built?

North Washington Street Bridge

Miguel Rosales (busy man) has completed a new design for this bridge’s replacement, which will be shared with the public probably in November, said Boston city engineer Para Jayasinghe. Its look will compliment the nearby Zakim Bunker Hill Bridge, which Rosales also worked on. Construction should begin in about three years. This bridge will be multi-modal, said Jayasinghe.

Northern Avenue Bridge

This 1908 steel swing bridge over the Fort Point Channel evokes Boston’s industrial past, but hasn’t been used for vehicular traffic since 1997 because of its poor condition.

Walkers and bikers use it to cross between the Seaport District and Atlantic Avenue. The Boston Harbor Association has for two summers installed planters and flowers. The bridge sparkles on winter nights with multi-colored lights.

The bridge is to be replaced with one exactly like it, said Jayasinghe, but when that will happen is not determined. Challenges are the cost and design, which must allow tall boats to pass beneath. Jayasinghe wants to raise the bridge since maintaining the swinging portion would be too expensive and disruptive to traffic. Jaysinghe said the bridge probably won’t qualify for federal funding without being designed for cars.

A mark of a true Bostonian is to hate skyscrapers.

Nevertheless, we’re going to get a passel of new tall buildings soon. Steve Belkin’s revelation that he wants to build 740 feet of steel and glass on Federal Street is the tallest. But the Christian Science tower is approved at 699 feet. Millennium Partners’ tower at 625 feet is underway next to Filene’s. Copley Place is approved at 625 feet too. The tallest building at North Station is approved at 600 feet, the same height as Don Chiofaro’s Harbor Garage proposal.

These buildings make Tom O’Brien’s approved 528-foot project at the Government Center Garage seem like the little brother.

Opposition comes from homeowners whose living spaces are valuable for the same reason skyscrapers must be built. The land is costly. Since it looks as if we’re going to live with these buildings, it might be time to consider what makes a good skyscraper anyway.

Architect Louis Sullivan, often called the ‘father of the skyscraper,’ was born in Boston. Maybe he left because he saw little future here for his soaring plans.

But he considered the question in the late 1800s, after the inventions of the elevator and steel skeleton framing made skyscrapers possible. The elevator meant that people could reach top floors without wearing themselves out. Steel frames made thick load-bearing walls unnecessary. The term ‘skyscraper’ may have been copied from the name of a top mast of a sailing ship.

Sullivan described his ideal skyscraper. “It is lofty,” he wrote. “It must be tall . . . the force and power of altitude . . . a proud and soaring thing, rising in sheer exultation that from bottom to top it is a unit without a single dissenting line.” I guess he meant a skyscraper should be tall.

Adam Gopnik, writing in the New Yorker magazine where he praised the new World Trade Center, was more articulate. “Skyscrapers, to be successful, should be . . . exuberant; the genius of the form is that hyper-scale should be met by unexpected playfulness, as with the arches and gargoyles of the Chrysler Building. There are no good dull skyscrapers . . .”

Unfortunately, Boston skyscrapers are mostly dull. Take One Beacon Street. Nothing playful anywhere. Not as bad as One Financial Center, you say? The list goes on.

The Palladian windows on International Place are playful, but they didn’t go over well in strait-laced Boston. The Federal Reserve building might meet Gopnik’s criterion because its skin and design reminds us of a vault. The Hancock building, for all its boring glass, has surprises. It looks one-dimensional from the Southeast Expressway, shows off a shining ribbon when one views it at sunset from Storrow Drive, and reflects Trinity Church and Fenway Park, depending on the viewpoint.

Since the Boston Redevelopment Authority has to approve all skyscrapers, I asked Kairos Shen, the BRA’s planning director, what he looks for in a tall building.

“The important thing is how the skyscraper meets the ground,” he said. “A base that comes up to the street is more connected to the street pattern and the fabric of the city.”

Planners learned that lesson the hard way when they first gave people open space around tall buildings, Shen said. But this isolated the buildings from the street and caused wind tunnels. The Prudential Building, Boston’s first 1960s skyscraper, epitomized that concept, and we’ve spent 30 years filling in its plaza to make it part of the city.

Buildings’ courtyards and lobbies should be permeable, inviting the public in and enabling pedestrians to get out of the cold, said Shen. Restaurant and retail use has become a cliché, but they bring human scale and visual interest at ground level.

Shen also considers the proportion of buildings 400 feet or more. Today’s designs are slender, he said. It is a counterpoint to old Boston, mostly horizontal and wide.

Shen said he looks at how buildings perform as a group and how they will compliment adjacent buildings. He is pleased that new Back Bay skyscrapers will fill in holes between the Hancock and the Pru. This will be especially noticeable from I-93 north of the city. They will contribute to the “high spine” that Boston planners envisioned decades ago, and still seems like a good idea, since, in theory, some would cover the Mass Pike.

An important concern for me is how a tall building meets the sky. I’ve been disappointed with the new designs because I think the flat tops make our skyline look like Hartford. (Sorry, Hartford.)

Shen said how a top expresses itself is sometimes in conflict with his goal of having buildings viewed in groups and not making one stand out more than its neighbors. He prefers to consider the profile of the whole building, as it might express itself as a spiral or a trapezoid.

I now understand why the BRA doesn’t emphasize tops, but Shen has not convinced me. Profiles are trendy. Copy-cat architects strive for them today. I tried to convince him that tops are as important to a skyline as groups. (Think Empire State.) Shen called my tops “hats” and “flourishes.” I didn’t convince him of my point of view.