November 18th, 2024

 My Oldman knew right away if I wasn’t telling the truth. He would say you can’t bullshit a bullshitter.

You can have the deepest faith and be the kindest person, but if you lack integrity…

…it’s a wash. It doesn’t count.

You can lie to everyone else. You can take the liberty of bullshitting everyone else, but you can’t lie or bullshit yourself.

The truth is always faster.

Today is Johnny Mercer Day. “Skylark” is a tune of his that I am partial to. Though he helped Henry Mancini with “Moonriver” and that is the night-night song that I sing to Hazel.

Someday it might be the song we dance to at her wedding. Many years from now if you ever read this daughter!

Today is Monday, Monday and a rainy day at that. Makes me think of Mama Cass and Karen Carpenter. Two people that never got in an argument over a sandwich.

I’m here all week. Please tip your waitress and the bartender on your way out.

November 17th, 2024

 My parents had one of those big console stereos in the living room when I was a kid. It was under the front picture window most of the year. The only time it wasn’t was at Christmas time when the tree took its place.

Next to it was a wooden case that my father built and stained to match the console.

My parents probably had forty, fifty maybe sixty record albums that I couldn’t touch. If I touched a single album, I would be the first person to know what next week will be like.

It was the early 1970’s. All of the singer songwriters of that period were represented. Carole King, James Taylor, Jim Croce and Judy Collins. They listened to jazz singers like Sinatra, Prima and Ella. Classical music from Dvorak to Chopin. My dad was partial to George Gershwin and my mom enjoyed Scott Joplin. Dad liked British marching bands and mom liked Gregorian Chant.

The one genre that was well represented was modern Broadway musicals. The one I was partial to was “Man of LaMancha.”

I knew the lyrics to “The Impossible Dream” backwards and forwards. I would stand on the coffee table and sing it with Richard Kiley. It was the first time that I remember both of my parents applauding me.

Not only did I know the lyrics, but the words became an anthem for Don and Cecilia’s only child.

Before Walter Payton I had Don Quixote. He taught me to persevere and fight the odds. That everything is obtainable if you have hope and stand up for your values.

I have such grand memories of laying on the living room floor and escaping to The Spanish Inquisition or King Arthur’s Camelot. I would run down hills listening to the sound of music. Look up on the roof for a fiddler. Join a band with seventy-six trombones or meet a beautiful girl named Maria.

Happy Sunday Funday. It is Bear/Packer Day. I’m going over to pick up a book at the library and maybe watch cooking shows on PBS. I won’t watch the Packers slap the snot out of the Bears.

The best holiday of the year is just eleven days away. I can’t wait to hear George Winston and put on my new Dick Butkus jersey first thing Thanksgiving morning.

Get your Christmas lights up today and enjoy them. On January sixth when the three kings arrive, you’ll have to take them down.

Never give up your quest to pursue your impossible dream.

November 16th, 2024

 Last night was a kick in the jaw to 1966. Mike Tyson was born on Thursday, June 30th and I was born on Friday the first of July.

I felt my age and then some when the baddest, meanest man from 1966 lost a fight Friday night.

I watched the horrible Netflix coverage with Hazel. She knows the kid Tyson fought from YouTube. Sitting with my daughter watching the boxing match reminded me of all the fights I watched with my Oldman in the 1970’s. The golden age of boxing with Ali, Frazier, Foreman, Norton, Holmes and Spinks.

Speaking of the Oldman, today is his 89th birthday. I’m sure he got up and watched military marching bands before going to breakfast at Gossage Grill. Then ran errands and got new windshield wipers on the Dadillac. Listening to the farm report and Bob Collins on WGN, old Jack Benny shows on WNIB and then Dick Buckley’s jazz show on the car radio.

The first July 1st that I spend in heaven will probably be with my grandparents and parents. Then depending on how many of my buddies are already up there…

…get a pickup game of baseball followed with lunch at The Billygoat.

Today’s quote comes from Hemingway. My Oldman used this quote as part of his “how to raise a good man” plan.

You can judge a man by the way he finishes the job and how he handles pressure.

“Courage is grace under pressure Moose…”

The middle weekend of November. Go get new wipers on your car before winter sets in.

There isn’t a sun with a smile on the board today, but that doesn’t mean you can’t search for astonishment

November 15th, 2024

  This was a quote that my dad used often. It is credited to one of his boyhood idols, Sir Winston Churchill.

He often told me that we don’t have time in life to be sad. Lower your shoulders, bow your neck and rumble through any detour life puts in your way.

He also quipped that the Shepley butt won’t allow you to hurdle your problems, so stampede instead.

In the next hour after I finish today’s Morning Chalkboard, I will complete a half dozen “Hail Mary’s,” several “Our Father’s” and a “Glory Be.”

I will also bang out several “God Dangit’s,” many “MFers” and a couple “jagoffs.”

I pray a shit ton and swear about the same amount. I worked on a trading floor for five decades. Lots of praying and swearing in those open outcry markets.

In fact the other day, a guy cut me off on 31st street while I was smack dab in the middle of a “Hail Mary”….

… “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us ‘you gotta be shitting me with this jagoff; use your fucking directional’ sinners now and at the hour of our death, amen.”

I wonder if the Virgin Mary winced when she heard that prayer? At least I didn’t skip the beat.

Anyway…. pray, swear, maul through and stand up and fight. Life is too short to be melancholy.

Here we are in the middle of November and the moon is full.

…And on the subject of the full moon. I will show my sophomoric tendencies and point out that the November Full Moon is called the Beaver Moon, my favorite. It’s called the Beaver Moon because the cute little beavs are building their dams before winter sets in. I love those cute little beavers.

Not only is the Blessed Mother of God wincing right now, but I’m sure my mother-in-law is shrugging her shoulders.

Speaking of my mother-in-law and then we need to end this Chalkboard. She buried her husband’s ashes on Monday. My father-in-law is two stones down from Stan Mikita.

How awesome is that?

I find it astonishing

November 14th, 2024

 When I was a young Man I could afford to say that one day I will do this or do that. One day I’m going to go there and see that.

I’m getting closer to being an older man today and the days have become Day One.

Today is Day One of me balancing my checkbook. Today is Day One of me putting cayenne and turmeric in my coffee. Today is Day One of reading “War and Peace.” Today is Day One of jogging a mile before work.

I don’t know if today is another day one or if it’s the day after tomorrow. All I know is it’s another day of being blessed and loved.

Like the sitcom from the seventies, I take it one day at a time.

I’m not going to put the cart in front of the horse over here. We still have Thanksgiving, Christmas and Hanukkah to get through, but 2025 is less than fifty days away.

There are going to be a shit ton of Day Ones in forty eight days.

My goal for 2025 is to keep on loving you. Because it is the only thing that I would like to do. I might not even go to sleep because I just want keep on loving you.

Enjoy your REO Speedwagon earworm and try and remember that today is Day One of be astounded

November 13th, 2024

 My dad and I planted an elm tree in the front yard in 1984. I drove past the old house last weekend to see how things were growing.

Standing tall in front of 220, still holding most of her foliage late into autumn. Towering over the house that was once our home.

I’ve watched that tree grow for forty years, the last fifteen of them as a visitor. The elm’s canopy covers the entire yard and shades the front porch from the afternoon sun.

Just like my dad had planned.

I make the drive through the old neighborhood so often that it has planted a reoccurring dream.

I often dream that I park the car and walk under the elm and into the front door. I have a sense of security, but know that it won’t last. I don’t belong there. Everyone is gone that once lived there, but no one is around, so I become a squatter and look for the comfort of my old bed.

I always leave before I get caught or before my dad comes home.

Today is Dream Destination Day. My dream was once England or Scotland or France. I always wanted to retire to New Orleans and become a writer. Maybe a small farm in southern Indiana with a farmhouse and a small barn.

Nowadays my dream destination is The Edgewater Beach Apartments with a mid century style apartment. I want to be near the lake and in the neighborhood where I first lived.

Do you have a dream destination?

Do you have something from your life that will outlast you?

The weather guy here at The Morning Chalkboard is calling for an overcast day. Seems the fifty degree highs are settling in on time before Thanksgiving.

Climb over the hump and find accomplishment today. Someday your legacy will leave something astounding

November 12th, 2024

 There was a time at the beginning of my career when I didn’t see Veterans Day for what it was.

The Board of Trade was always closed and I took it as an opportunity to kick start the Holiday season with a night out on the town.

On a Veterans Day Eve in the early 1990’s I went to Ceres located in the lobby under the trading floor. Ceres is known for the strongest cocktails in the Loop.

From Ceres to Gene & Georgetti to Redhead Piano bar…

…then the long cab ride back to the neighborhood for a nightcap.

I woke up on my couch Veterans Day morning to my answering machine going off. My dad sounded pissed and I suddenly realized that I listened to several pissed off dad messages when I got home a couple hours earlier.

I had plans to attend a ceremony at nine o’clock in the morning with my dad. It was 7:05am and I needed to be dressed and out the door at 7:30am.

I opened the door to the Dadillac and a cloud of Marlboro cigarette smoke waifed towards me. It was 7:31 and I was greeted with a …

…“You’re Late!”

Then I was asked if I received the fifteen text messages that my dad left the last fifteen hours.

Then my dad realized I was still shitfaced from the night before.

He wasn’t happy.

He was dressed up in tweed with his poppy pin on his lapel. That was the day I realized the importance of Veterans Day.

I received that poppy pin before my dad died and I wore it yesterday.

Would I do it all over again?

Well…..

I miss the trading floor. I miss going down to Ceres after the close, but most of all…

…I miss my Oldman.

I even miss getting into the ashtray of a car that I nicknamed the Dadillac.

That Veterans Day when I heard the National Anthem, Taps, prayers and tributes…

… it gave me a strong understanding of Faith and Country.

Now I have my Dad’s Poppy lapel pin that he proudly wore.

Thank you dad for one of many life lessons and God Bless America…

Tuesday is going to be a gorgeous autumn day. Take your long shadow for a walk along the leaves…

…and find astonishing things