“In the garden, I see, west purple shower bells and tea orange birds and river cousins dressed in green.”
The Morning Chalkboard
Just a Chicago guy juggling fatherhood and bachelorhood. An old trading floor broker now rolling in Chet the Ford Lemon, living by the river. These stories are life lessons meant to make you laugh, cry, and think. The “Chalkboard” is my daily post, scribbled on the blackboard in my kitchen—a ritual, a bit of therapy, and a small win to start the day. All Chalkheads are welcome to ride along.
Friday, October 17, 2025
October 17th, 2025
Thursday, October 16, 2025
October 16th, 2025
It was on this day five years ago that my trading firm packed up our office in the Loop and moved out to Oak Brook. Six months before that, the trading floor itself shut down because of Covid.
Wednesday, October 15, 2025
October 15th, 2025
There isn’t a magic trick to getting better. It is repetition, grit, and a little bit of grace. Life doesn’t suddenly turn itself around on a Tuesday morning because you wish it so. It turns around because you keep showing up and putting your ass on the line. You keep doing the small things that add up to something big. You keep pushing the broom, paying the bill, saying “thank you,” and trying again tomorrow and the next day.
Tuesday, October 14, 2025
October 14th, 2025
There comes a time when you realize your striking-iron days are numbered. The hammer is getting heavier; the sparks don’t fly as quickly and what used to be muscle memory now feels like effort. I’m running out of time to pound the iron into shape, but I still show up to the forge.
Monday, October 13, 2025
October 13th, 2025
There are mornings when the chalk feels heavier than my coffee cup. When the words don’t chalk up and my head is foggy. The world feels like it is still stretching before the opening bell. I’ve had plenty of these kind of mornings, especially on Mondays. I stare at the chalkboard, waiting for something divine to land and all I get is silence.
Sunday, October 12, 2025
October 12th, 2025
There is no better embodiment of persistence than the American farmer. The quote on today’s Chalkboard isn’t just a motivational line; it is a truth that I see every day from my side of the trading desk. The American farmer has been the most consistent piece of Americana, longer than baseball...
The Next Shift
I haven’t felt sorry for myself in a long time. That doesn’t mean the mystery of my faith won’t send a lesson in humility.
October 11th, 2025
At this age, I have figured out that the most important thing left for me to do is leave a wake of kindness behind me.
Friday, October 10, 2025
October 10th, 2025
The weather finally kicked into autumn this week. The Farmers’ Market had their last gathering in Riverside and George and I had our last Thursday ice cream together last night.
Tuesday, October 7, 2025
October 7th, 2025
Two years ago today, the world was reminded how quickly hatred can spill across borders and into our lives.