October 31st, 2022

   Unless getting up in the morning counts, I don’t really do much that scares me. It’s very easy to fall into a comfort zone and not take many chances. I like my routine and have become a creature of habit as years stack up behind me.

The other day I had to fill out my birthday on a website. It took me thirty seven minutes to scroll to the year of my birth. How did they stack up so quickly? Maybe these date scrollers can start with 1972? Why does anyone born after 1973 need AARP?

Hot giardiniera scares me… once upon a time I’d eat it out of the jar. Now when the guy asks me what kind of peppers I want on my combo I stutter with fright….

“Ummmm, aaaaaah, I I I I? Hot giardiniera please!”

Tonight I’m gonna wake up every time I roll over. I gotta remember to have the “Alka Seltzer” on the nightstand and the “Dude wipes” near the crapper.

My wiping baby butt era of 2006-2016 showed me the importance of placing the extra baby wipes by dads toilet. How did I survive the nineties without the soothing swipe of a baby wipe? Especially after a late night Maxwell Street Polish!

Maybe I’ll make my 2023 New Years Amendment, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” I can start by taking my ex mother in law to lunch in January? I’ll change the brand of underwear that I’ve bought since the Reagan years? Maybe take a new path to work? I’ll finally go to a soul food restaurant in Hyde Park?

Oh 2023 looks scary already and we still have the economy, a war and the mayoral election to deal with.

Well if we are going to start doing something scary everyday, Halloween is the day.

I pulled todays quote from the Mary Schmich essay in the “Trib” from 1997, “Advice, Like Youth, Probably Just Wasted on the Young,”

Did you talk with someone who thinks your special over the weekend? I give you one chore to do… feel Mo Betta’

October 30th, 2022

 Like many Saturday afternoons I enjoy listening to classic radio shows on WDCB. As I’m listening to “Fibber McGee and Molly” I noticed a Riverside Police car pulled in front of the three flat. The police officer gets out opens the backdoor and out pop the Shepley Brothers.

“Thank you very much sir!”

At this point I’m out on the balcony and the police officer is looking up at me. He has a huge smile on his face when he sees my face. I’m wearing the “Don Shepley, you’ve got to be shitting me!” look on it.

George yells up to me,

“Oh hi dad! We got a ride home from the train station from this police officer!”

Now I must have a dumbfounded look on my face as the boys tromp up the stairs and the Riverside police officer drives away.

The boys went to Hensdale for the day to get haircuts with PopPop, have lunch and do chores for their Grandparents. Hazel and I went shopping and had lunch in the car near the river.

Back to the Shepley Brothers arrest report…..

The boys train caught fire as it rolled into Riverside. They were able to get off safely, but they were on the Southside of the tracks and we live on the northside. The stalled Metra was joined with a stopped freight train. This is typical on a Saturday afternoon in Riverside because a major freight yard is east of us in Cicero.

Supposedly the ShepBros were patiently waiting for the trains to move so they can get home. At this point there are several squad cars and fire trucks assisting the stalled passenger train. Between trains and emergency vehicles these two boners are in seventh Heaven.

Now here is the kicker. Here is another reason why Riverside is a great home…. the police officer asks the boys where they live and tells them to get into his squad car. He saw them get off the train and took it upon himself to take care of them. Solid move by the RPD…

I was so proud of my boys not to panic, but instead bond as brothers and experience the making of a good memory. My first memory of getting out of a police car at George’s age was a little different and Gramma CeCe wasn’t very happy.

The ShepBros had a great day on the other side of Mannheim with their PopPop. Hazel and I spent Daddy and Daughter time eating french fries on Betty the Green Blazers dashboard. The sun was out on the peak weekend of autumnal beauty and the four of us had a great Saturday adventure.

Today I quoted the great mayor of Chicago, Richard J. Daley. Can you hear him saying this in his Chicagonese accent? Chicago sure would be a better city if Mayor Daley was still around.

The Bears have a tough go today down in Dallas and Labarra is having a huge barbecue bash for the game and Halloween. Go have a gorgeous Sunday and remember our one chore for the weekend…. Call someone who thinks that you are special. You’ll feel Mo Betta’!

October 29th, 2022

 Apple TV has the rights to all the Charlie Brown holiday specials that we grew up watching. The last couple years they let the local PBS stations air them. This year they will not.

This year they won’t be sharing Snoopy with the public. I went into panic mode. I went to Amazon… out of stock. Called Disc Replay…. Out of stock.

George saw that I was upset about something. I told him the dilemma that his father won’t be able to watch his favorite Charlie Brown cartoons. A holiday tradition going back to the Nixon Era.

Minutes later George walks out of Weird Science Room and produces a VHS/DVD player.

“Dad? May I hook this unit to your television?”

I hesitated for a second, but caved in….

“Also, Dad? I pirated a copy of ‘Charlie Brown, Great Pumpkin’ from a Korean Something or another maybe thru a China streaming site, but it’s quality! Do you want me to burn it onto a VHS tape or a DVD?”

I’m currently waiting for the FBI to arrest me for harboring a Korean spy working for communist china.

Luckily, I read Apple is letting non members watch all the holiday specials if you download their app.

I’m not sure who to trust, Apple or George’s black web connection?

Anyway, for those of you looking for Charlie Brown this weekend or Thanksgiving and Christmas. Download the Apple app or text George Shepley. I would never let our generation miss Linus and Lucy!

It’s National Oatmeal Day! My mommy made me oatmeal on the first day of school every year from Kindergarten at Saint Ita’s to Senior year at Dear Old Cathedral. Third grade I dipped my clip-on tie into my breakfast bowl. When I sat down at my desk Sister Mary Frances bird dogged my crusty tie from her perch.

I thought the penguin was going to kill me. She reached into her desk and gave me a clean one. Nuns really did nurture us in the spirit of the top mom, Mary.

It’s going to be a beautiful last Saturday of October… make sure to call someone today that thinks you are special. It will definitely make you feel Mo Betta’!

October 28th, 2022

 I poured a glass of beer, turned on the Blackhawks pregame show and was finishing a text message that said, “do you have time to chat?” I replied yes and two hours and eleven minutes later we hung up the phone.

The last time I talked on a telephone for over two hours, it had a chord connecting it to the wall.

My dad always said a dear friend is someone that you haven’t talked with or seen in several months, but when you do…. It’s like you saw each other the night before.

We often text back and forth and see each other occasionally, but life has distanced us for the most part.

George came out of his “Weird Science”themed bedroom and asked if he could make some popcorn. “Who ya talking to dad?”

I replied that I was talking to his God Mother, Auntie Amy. They both used me to relay their hello’s and their love.

Auntie Amy is George’s God mother and a dear friend. A dear friend that I’ve had for over thirty years. In fact at the beginning of that relationship we dated, lived together and broke up. We briefly dated again and then didn’t talk for about…. Six months.

That’s when another Don Shepley theory worked into play.

“Son, when you walk outside the door at 220 South Lombard… not many people out there think that you are special. The very few that do, you better keep them close throughout your lifetime.”

At a diner sometime in the mid nineties I was having breakfast with my Oldman. He told me that this girl…. A girl that loved me, held me, kissed me and broke bread with me. Someone who heard me fart in bed!!!!

I sure as hell better make sure she is in my life at some capacity until death…

Since that wise Saturday morning I’ve had a dear friend in Amy Weaver.

My Oldman loved Weavy and he was right about keeping her around. She’s been part of my foundation through thick and thin ever since.

George came out of his room again at 9:15. “Dad, it’s past your bedtime! What are you doing still up?”

That was our cue to end our epic phone call. A conversation that went all over the map. A conversation that was well needed for both of us.

There was a time in our lives we talked about the future. A future with four kids and a dog. Ignatius, Augustus, Margaret and Agnes. Affectionately known as Iggy, Auggie, Maggie, Aggie and their doggie Ziggy.

We took a different path that led us to something better. My life wouldn’t be complete without a dear friend like Weavy…..

It’s Halloween weekend! What’s your favorite candy bar?

Mine is a weird one… it’s one my dad would throw in my lap when he was getting in the car in front of the White Hen, the peppermint patty.

Last weekend of October. If you do one thing, call up someone who thinks you are special. It’ll make you feel Mo Betta’!

October 27th, 2022

 The white Lincoln pulled away erratically with the little voice from the backseat nervously yelling, “I love you daddy….”

Just before the driver got into the car she made a point of calling me a piece of shit, asshhole that needs to go die….

…..and in a flash I didn’t get to say “I love you” back to Hazel.

Hell, it’s just Thursday and between the road rage guy from Lagrange Park and the spoiled produce from Hensdale I’ve had my share of conflict.

Ahhhh fuck it! I've learned to overlook negative people, for I’m not a rat and it’s not a race…. I’m JumboLove and it’s a wonderful life.

Last weekend of October! High school football playoffs, Halloween, Autumn leaves about to peak and Charlie Brown.

It doesn’t get much better than that and Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday is around the corner.

Fritz asked if we can watch “Freebirds” and have pizza for thanksgiving.

I will be in heaven in thirty years, but the Shepkids will remember the thanksgiving they had pizza at dad’s awesome home in Riverside.

October 26th, 2022

 Betty the Green Blazer and I encountered a road rage guy Tuesday morning in the rain. A little fella in his mini van with a Lagrange Park Little League sticker. One of these guys in a hurry to catch up with his shitty life.

The Cook County Sheriff showed up to calm everything down. I guess the poor guy was having a meltdown. His wife forgot to put her massager back in the hiding place under the nightstand and he found it. He brought his frustration to 31 street where Betty and I got in his way.

In a calm voice Sheriff Ortiz let Mr LagrangePark know that all woman have one and it’s not Mr Shepley and Betty that deserve this rage.

The poor guy drove off with his tail between his legs. Sheriff Ortiz asked if I was okay.

I replied that I was and I said, “you know Sheriff… on the last Saint Valentine’s Day that I was married I bought my ex wife a vibrator and a pair of slippers.”

He replied,

“I can understand why you are single Mr Shepley…. How did she react?”

“Well Sheriff Ortiz… she said ‘what the hell is this?’ In which I replied that if she didn’t like the slippers she could always go f*** herself!”

That’s me spreading joy to the community. You know Sheriff Ortiz used that joke for the rest of his shift and probably will use it more today.

Hopefully Wee Willie on Beach Avenue in Lagrange Park had a better day. Next time he pulls his road rage stunt it might not be with a mellow guy listening to Chopin having a conversation with a dead guy from Indianapolis!

And don’t worry… Betty is fine!

October 25th, 2022

 I turned the television off after the first quarter. The Bears were up 10-0 and I felt satisfied watching fifteen minutes of decent football.

I woke up a couple times in the middle of the night thinking about checking the final score.

I was hiking fourteen miles mostly uphill in the snow. A woman was yelling at me the whole time. So I decided it was time to wake up and see the outcome of the game outside of Boston.

33-14? Did I read that correctly? 33-14! I’ll be a son of a bitch the Bears ended up winning!

Tuesday in the trading office is going to be exciting. Almost as exciting as last week when they took the speed bumps out of the parking garage.

Each guy came into the office last Friday and the first thing out of their mouth, “Hey! The speed bumps are gone!”

Those speed bumps were brutal and they were gone! The Bears are brutal and they won…

Who cares if my raincoat is in the backseat of Betty the Green Blazer! I’m going to waltz to her parking spot through the raindrops. I’m going to dodge the rain like Walter Payton dodging Vikings.

How awesome is it that the Bears beat this team? The team they beat 46-10 in the biggest game in their history!

!?!? 33-14 !?!?

I’m not disappointed I went to bed early and missed the last three quarters. I am disappointed I didn’t push the person yelling at me on the snowy hill off the side.

Before I look up the stats of the game I need to get the dream book out again!

One last thing….. we are not here to cause a problem, we are just here to do a dance that is very similar to a shuffle.

October 24th, 2022

 This Indian Summer might have a price down the line, but what the hell! It was a fantastic treat. I ended up outside in a swimming pool two months and two days before Christmas.

Enthusiasm is the word of the week!

If a day ever comes when I’m not enthusiastic, bury me the next day. I’ve banged out 20,569 days since I met my parents on the northside of Chicago. Not all of them were filled with enthusiasm, but it builds as I go.

We sing that goofy auld la zing song in 68 days… 2023?!?!?! I’m sure it will still linger with the after effects of Covid and the pain of recession, but I’m going to be enthusiastic going into the new year.

Last full week of October…. Get them while they’re hot!

October 23rd, 2022

 Every morning this week the crescent moon has been framed by my bedroom window. The silver sliver getting smaller with every new good morning. The waning crescent started the week still holding some of its fullness, but today, just a thin line waiting to become new again.

I don’t know when the moon will take this same path, maybe never. I was able to turn my head on the pillow and watch the moon rise everyday this week. Climbing over the top of the church and school to the east and move towards the curtain rod.

If I wait long enough I’ll see the sun follow. The sun takes a path well to the right of my window these days as it ascends more from the south each morning.

The late October summer temperatures hit me like Dick Butkus yesterday. I’m not built to go from a winter jacket on Wednesday to a Speedo on Saturday.

Thank you Mother Nature for the last taste of summer. I’ll take the appropriate weather back now.

No horrible football today… go get your pumpkins.

October 22nd, 2022

 Look at that temperature on the top of the Morning Chalkboard… take advantage of any October 22nd that gives you the glory of an eighty handle.

I’m not going to waste your time with a long story or corny Jumbo Proverb.

I’m going to take a walk today. I just haven’t decided how I’m going to do it.

Should I pay a visit to The Ministry of Silly Walks and Monty Python around Riverside today?

OR

Should I dance through town like Don Cornelius just asked me my name and has given me fifteen seconds to dance across the SoulTrain stage?

The world needs more Monty Python and SoulTrain…. It all starts with a smile and a dance move!

I will point out to the bottom left hand side of the Morning Chalkboard…. Streetlights go on early tonight! Get home on time so you don’t get yelled at by your parents!

October 21st, 2022

   I climbed into Betty the Green Blazer like I always do every morning. I caressed her dashboard and said, "Good morning Love... are you ready to take me to work?"

   I suddenly felt a cold tingle as I cranked her engine. We pulled out of the parking spot and drove up to the John Wagner stoplight. The first light of the morning drive is always red and turns green when Betty triggers the sensors. This gives Wags enough time to climb in. It turns green quickly as he is shutting the door. I'm pulling thru the intersection before he can put his seatbelt on, but since he's an angel he doesn't need one.

      I'm driving towards 1st Avenue on 31st street. The light is green, but I'm a quarter of a mile away and won't make it. It turned red, but as I approach it turned back green and I rolled right through laughing with Wags. I got another heavenly tingle and ask my deceased friend how the hell he pulled that off.

     I caught every green light through Brookfield and LaGrange Park until I reached Mannheim Road. The light was red at Mannheim and I looked over to the empty passenger seat and shook my head at Wags. Mannheim Road is the Mason/Dixon line for the Shepley/Bergmann divorce. John Wagner was always a huge support during the decline of my marriage. The symbolism of a red light at Mannheim is strong.

    The light turned green as did every light on the way out to work. I pulled into the parking garage and all the speed bumps were shaved off... they were there yesterday when I left. I pointed out to Betty the Green Blazer that the bumps that rattled her carriage are gone. 

    What is the symbolism of removing the speed bumps? 

       I thought about taking a closer parking space, but decided to stay where Betty felt comfortable. She has left a nice oil spot in her spot and likes the location.

                          Green lights and Speed Bumps... I'm not sure if they mean anything, but I'm going to take it as a good sign from heaven above. Every guy walking into the trading room after me pointed out the removal of the speed bumps. It's the highlight of the day.

      The conversation in the office will be speed bumps and Taylor Swift's new album. Rolling Stone Magazine is already calling it a classic. Totally, OMG going to listen to it this afternoon.... NOT! 

      .... it's not a GoldBond Day, but Indian Summer arrives briefly this weekend in Chicagoland. Today is the last sunset after six o'clock until early next spring. The third LaNina in a row is setting up the Midwest with an above average snowfall. I'll take a blizzard over a hurricane and the chance of frost bite over flesh eating bacteria any day.

                                                                      GO TEAM!!!

October 20th, 2022

      The waning crescent moon is hanging over the eastern sky of Chicagoland early this morning. The sky is clear and the stars are crisp.

I’ve heard several people say the trees are having their best autumnal color show in recent memory. Only October can give us a wintry start to the week and an Indian summer weekend to follow. Forty degrees on Monday and near eighty on Saturday.

I’m letting the routine of life drive me from Point A to Point B and I’m not appreciating what October is leaving all around me. It will soon be November and Edmund Fitzgerald weather will arrive. The grays of November will have fallen over the orange, golden yellow and red of October.

The October wind crunches through the colorful trees, but the brisk November wind has only naked branches to dance across. The contrast of just a few weeks is noticeable every year.

These October mornings make it so hard to get out of bed. The cracked window lets in the remnants of what is left of summer and the reminder of the nearing arrival of winter.

In the time I’ve taken to type these paragraphs the sliver of morning moon has moved from the middle of my bedroom window to the top.

Two thirds of this glorious month are crossed off on the calendar. By this weekend the sun will be setting before six o’clock for the next several months and in a couple weeks we set back the clocks an hour.

Oh October give us one last glimmer of life before the colorless arrival of November and the coldness of the months that follow.

October 19th, 2022

 I’m going to play this one by ear, set the snooze and maybe come back with a good story for you.

As for 3:33am… window is cracked and the sleeping is fantastic.

October 18th, 2022

      In the years my father had to raise his son he spent most of it teaching and nurturing. Unfortunately there were those times when he had to rebuild me a new asshole.

Yesterday I had to rebuild an asshole for my sixteen year old son.. It’s a little harder for me to do this in the 2020’s than it was for my dad in the 1980’s.

I mouthed off to my dad when I was sixteen and he pushed me into the side of a building and told me I was walking home. After a long walk to the nearest CTA station and two different el trains later I walked in the backdoor just before dinner. There wasn’t a plate for me.

Yesterday afternoon on an unusually cold and windy autumn day I wanted to make my sixteen year old son walk home. He didn’t get slammed into a wall, he didn’t walk from Westchester to Riverside and he had salmon and broccoli for dinner.

You’ve heard me say this before. A father’s job is to replace himself with a better version of himself.

I would’ve liked to slam my mealy mouth son into the side of a building yesterday and whisper in his ear, “enjoy your walk home dipshit,” but that’s not how I want to replace myself. I had to handle this better than my father. The next generation of JumboLove sat in the quiet car ride home and during that 3.5 miles of silence he had his rear end rebuilt for him. That is all that I had to do.

Just silence…. I didn’t even raise my voice at the asshole in front of me that didn’t use a turn signal. I always get bent out of shape when someone doesn't use their directional.

Hopefully my constructive way of fathering will give George less inconsistencies and contradictions in life.

The course of life is a difficult one.

I’ve always wondered if my father was worried about me after he pulled away from the curb and saw me disappear in his rearview mirror. Leaving his son stranded on the Northwest side of Chicago.

It’s tough being the father of a kid on the spectrum. Sometimes you don’t know what you have. Yesterday I got a hug, a “I’m sorry” and a “I love you dad” before bedtime.

Forty years ago my father didn’t get that before bedtime.

October 17th, 2022

       I was just walking through my dads house in Oak Park before I woke up. The walls in every room had a fresh coat of paint. All the furniture was pushed together in each room for the painters.

There was a light on in each room. I was trying to find a room that I could sleep in. I picked a room and started moving things off the bed.

I moved a brown box that had 1963 written on the side. The next thing was a stack of caps neatly placed together. There was about eight of them. The first one was a Kansas Jayhawk hat. I put the caps on the floor and noticed they were all KU hats.

I cleared off all the stuff and the bed was made already. A stranger walked in and told me that I could stay for one night. He told me tomorrow was his birthday and he was going to Salsanada.

The stranger left and as I’m kicking off my shoes my dad yells from downstairs, “you can’t sleep in that room, it’s not yours.”

I grab my shoes from the floor and walk to the back bedroom, it’s empty. I look in the closet to see if there is a blanket and a pillow, but only an old broom was there.

As I stood looking at the empty room my alarm went off in Riverside and it’s Monday October 17th.

There is no place like home, there is no place like home!

All right dream people. Help me dissect this one! KU hats on the bed? Freshly painted? Who is the stranger? A broom in the closet? Where the hell is Salsanada?

Happy Monday!

October 16th, 2022

      I had WLS, My mom was WMAQ and my dad was WGN. Sometimes my dad would listen to fancy stations on the radio that I couldn’t touch, his stereo.

The stereo had the FM stations with the boring music, Classical music and Jazz music… this was the 1970’s and my world was an AM world and Top 40 ruled.

One summer my parents went on a weeklong retreat with people from the parish. The lady that took care of me listened to WCFL and drank Pepsi. WCFL was the other top 40 station in Chicagoland in the early 1970’s. In my little boy mind it sucked and so did Pepsi. I like Coke!

To this day I still listen to the radio. I’m a WGN guy like my dad was and I listen to the fancy stations on the FM. I listen to jazz on WDCB and classical on WFMT.

When I think about it… I started listening to the radio fifty years ago in the early 1970’s. Back then radio was only around for fifty years. The first radio stations went on the air in the early 1920’s. Jeez I’m getting old!

I miss Wally Phillips, John Landecker, Dick Biondi and Dick Buckley.

It’s National Liqueur Day. My dad gave me the love for radio, but it was my Uncle Chris that introduced me to my first after dinner drink.

My Uncle Chris and Aunt Barbie had the miniature glasses. They would set them out on the table after dinner with three or four different bottles of liqueur. Frangelico, Grand Marnier, Drambuie, Amaretto and their favorite…. Cheri Suisse.

Uncle Chris included me in this adult ritual. I didn’t like the taste, but if it was an adult thing…. Make it a double Unc!

I might have to listen to the radio tonight and have a cordial glass of Frangelico after the Shepkids go back to the other side of Mannheim.

No Bear football to ruin our Sunday. Though I love listening to Dan Hampton and Mr. O’Bradovich tear the Bears up on WGN after they get beat. Rocktober is already half over. The leaves on the trees are falling quickly. Tonight might be a fabulous night for a moon dance…..

October 15th, 2022

      I was never fast at anything… I’m not sure I ever won a foot race. One of the many things I learned from my Gramma was to always keep busy and don’t hurry through. Get it done right on the first try.

My Gramma was sweeping the sheds way before The All Blacks made it famous.

Another thing that is important is finding a niche. Something that keeps you busy, keeps you going.

I found a niche that helped me continue in the commodity trading world after the Board of Trade closed the floor. On Monday my trading group marks the two year anniversary of moving out to OakBrook. We found a niche…..

Bruce Sutter was struggling in the early years of his career. In 1973 he had elbow surgery that could have doomed his playing days, but he didn’t give up and he found a niche. He learned a new pitch.

The split-finger fastball was that niche.

He won the CY Young in 1979 for the Cubs and he won the 1982 World Series for the Cardinals. A struggling young pitcher kept on moving, found a niche and ended up in the Hall of Fame.

He died this week at the age of 69.

Sweep the sheds and find a niche and life will move along on its own.

…and don’t be a Jagoff!

October 14th, 2022

    Just because the grass is turning brown and the trees are losing their leaves…. Even though the garden has wilted doesn’t mean that autumn is all about death.

Summertime was a cocktail party. We danced, we drank, we ate canapé in our tuxedos and our sexy dresses.

Today’s quote comes from Scotty Fitz… a gifted party monster in his day. F Scott saw Autumn as a constant cycle of renewal. It’s the time after that great cocktail party when we get home, take off our party clothes and hang them neatly in the closet.

We climb in bed a little tipsy and tired. Lying under the blankets exhausted from a great time thinking about tomorrow.

Autumn isn’t death because the trees are naked. Autumn is rebirth because we are lying naked under the blankets sleeping off the summer buzz. Ready to wake up to a great tomorrow.

I’m waking up to a great tomorrow, well a great Friday morning. I don’t give a damn the Bears suck. At least we have horseshit football done for the weekend. Instead of suffering on Sunday we now have the day to drink Pumpkin Spice IPA’s….

…..Scott and Zelda will be inviting us over before we know it.

October 13th, 2022

 Today’s quote comes from a guy who stuck a baboon in the middle of Daley Plaza. He meant the quote more for his approach to art, but it works perfectly with life for me…. Pablo Picasso.

Familiarity….. we get so bogged down with the routine of life and the comfort of getting stuck in the zone.

Sometimes you need to break down the manacles that hold you down. Could be as simple as taking a different route to work. Maybe changing your hairstyle or changing who you sleep next to. It could be just as simple as taking out the garbage

I’m not a professional athlete or a comedian. I’m not a movie actor or a conductor of a symphony.

I’m a father, a commodity broker, a friend and a neighbor. To be all of things that I am I have to be all of the things I mentioned just above.

Getting through the comedy and tragedy of life you must be the actor or comedian that puts on the show. To get through the chores of life you must be able to block blitzing linebackers and hit home runs. Unfortunately there are days when you fumble the ball or strike out at the plate.

That’s why vacations, retreats and sabbaticals are needed in life. Maybe a simple walk or a massage. Fixing a cup of tea and reading a book. These are the things that can help us break it down so we can build ourselves back up for the next day, the next week, the next month.

Buy a new scented shampoo or body wash. Get a new color of sheets and bedspread. Give yourself a manscape and maybe a pedicure. Instead of a ham sandwich everyday try a chicken salad sandwich.

Change up the routine. Breakout of the pattern that keeps you bogged down and live it up…. You have nothing to lose… sometimes you gotta say, “what the fuck!”

Bears on Thursday night in creamsicle uniforms for television ratings. I just talked about changing things up in life, but Orange uniforms might be a bit extreme…. Bear Down Chicago Bears!

October 12th, 2022

 A pendulum clock hung on the wall in the room where my mother died. It was a plastic knock off of the classic Regulator clocks that hung on many important walls throughout the twentieth century.

It recently hung on a wall in a small hallway in my flat. A wall between George’s bedroom door and the bathroom door. Across from the clock is a crucifix. I figured hanging both outside George’s room would protect him while he slept.

Last night I gave George a hug and kiss and told him goodnight. I closed the door to his bedroom and turned around knocking the clock off the wall. Plastic pieces scattered across the floor and the hands stopped at 8:57pm.

The clock that hung on the wall in the room where my mom died is resting in the kitchen garbage can. It was just a cheap Service Merchandise clock that I destroyed in a flash. The clock that told my mom the time during her final moments was gone.

My mom kept looking at that clock waiting for our final goodbye. I was frantically driving down to Indianapolis on I-65 as she watched the time run out on her life. I showed up twenty minutes late. She died as I was driving between Lebanon and I-465.

I took the clock off the wall after I said goodbye to my mommy. That clock stood outside my son’s bedroom door ever since. Before I haphazardly knocked it to the ground.

That dime a dozen clock was a reminder of how precious time is. It wasn’t worth salvaging…. My mother doesn’t need to tell time any longer….

….she’s never late to fix my blanket every morning at 2:22am.

I could replace that clock with a wooden version that chimes on Amazon for $130, but it’s not the clock my mom watched time run out on.

Everything left from my moms life is in a box in my closet. Someday everything left from my life will be in a box in a closet. I wonder what will be worth keeping?

Maybe my Pinewood Derby car from 1976? Maybe my old Grundig radio? Maybe all my ticket stubs or shot glasses?

Last night I broke the clock my mom was looking at when I was running late for her departure to heaven. I’m not sure what I can hang to fill that space. Maybe a picture of my mom?

It’s going to be a rainy Wednesday. Temperatures will drop in the afternoon. It is National Gumbo Day. What I would do for a bowl of gumbo down in Louisiana. After my meal I’d stop in a shop on Royal Street and buy a pendulum clock for the wall next to George’s bedroom door.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mx2qLl2bvEE&t=23s