June 30th, 2023

    Once I finally got settled into my life it was already halfway over. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention? Maybe I was daydreaming too much? Maybe my parents didn’t parent me enough?

Most of us are given a plan, a roadmap, a blueprint for life and if we use these instruments our lives will be a success.

Get an education, get a career, get married, buy a house and have children. The perfect route to success.

I learned early that life brought challenges. I knew life has cycles of good times and bad times.

What I didn’t know was how quickly all the time goes.

For years I judged time on how slow third period algebra took. The speed of life was caught perfectly when the minute hand ticked back on Tom Cruise in “Risky Business.” That is how the first twenty years of life seemed.

The minute hand might click backwards, but time does not. Time clips away quicker the older we get and with the backload of responsibility that comes along with it.

I don’t tell the Shepkids that a college degree and a good job will make them successful. I tell them it will make life a little easier.

I also want to make sure I give them a better sense of time management.

They need to know if you get caught up in what life should be they will miss out on what life really is.

Life is about riding your bike fast and misjudging the jump over the curb. Skinned knees, skinned elbows and a bent handlebars will continue throughout life.

All the advice my dad gave me growing up and the one thing he forgot to tell me….

“Oh Moose, at some point I’m going to die and you’ll have to do this without me!”

I mean there were hints of this. One Saturday morning I was having breakfast with my parents in the restaurant of the Pittsfield building. When I was a kid my parents went to see Dr. Kling every other Saturday morning. For me it was an adventure, for my parents it was a marriage counselor. Dr. Kling ended up sucking at his job.

Back to the breakfast table. I asked my mom to put butter and grape jelly on my toast and even though I heard her say it, I wasn’t listening…

“You are going to have to learn how to do this for yourself honey. I won’t be here to help you with your toast when you are older.”

That was the foreshadowing of life that I just didn’t follow. To me, my mommy will always be around to put jelly on my toast. I can’t remember the last time she did it, but it wasn’t long after that morning in downtown Chicago.

Every time I put jelly on my toast I think of that morning in the Pittsfield Diner. If the Shepkids are with me when I’m putting grape jelly on my toast they will hear the story of Gramma Ce Ce.

I would stop in the Pittsfield Diner every once in awhile for a bite to eat. Usually after a busy day at work on the trading floor.

The older I got the smaller that diner became. The desk where the building attendant sat was replaced by a touchscreen directory and the comic book stand was really a newspaper stand that sold rolling papers.

George, Fritz, Hazel… pay attention.

You won’t be successful in life without happiness.

You won’t be successful if you are full of hate.

You won’t be successful if you ignore the shadows of the sun.

You won’t be successful without hard work.

You won’t be successful without Faith. Faith in God and faith in yourself.

You won’t be successful without friends and you won’t be successful until you realize the clock is ticking.

It is the last day of June. How many more last days of June do we have?

The last thing I thought about just know and how I’ll end todays Chalkboard.

That fucking now it all owl in the tree. He doesn’t know shit. You know the owl I’m talking about. The arrogant prick that takes the kid’s lollipop. I want to scream at that kid.

“Don’t give that fucking owl your Tootsie Pop! He’s going to lick it three times and bite it”

That owl symbolizes life’s mistakes and that kid captures our wasted youth.

George, Fritz, Hazel…. Please learn for yourselves how many licks it takes to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Roll lollipop.

June 29th, 2023

 High pressure sodium lights… not many of us are familiar with what that is, but if you lived in Chicagoland from the 1970’s into the 2010’s you are familiar with what they did.

Those were the lights that gave Chicago it’s famous orange hue. Inexpensive street lights that were cost effective for the city budget, but expensive when it came to light pollution.

Now that we are in the LED era the old sodium lights have been slowly phased out. The orange clouds are all but gone from the city sky scape.

Until this week…..

The orange hazy skies have returned to the shores of Lake Michigan. The smoke from Canada is a big deal and has made the sky filtered with unwanted color once again.

We had a second floor sun room on the back of our house in Oak Park. It faced the East and downtown Chicago. I loved sitting up there during summer thunderstorms and look at the orange lights and the lightning.

The low storm clouds would reflect the glow of the city and that famous orange color would brighten the stormy skies.

You’d never think street lights would have such an effect on the city sky. You’d never think Canadian forest fires would do the same.

We all remember what we were doing when Mayor Daley died or during the Tylenol deaths. The day Mayor Washington died and the Great Chicago flood are other events that will always stick out in memory.

I’m not sure if the Great Canadian forest fires and the smoky skies of June of 2023 will be as historic, but for the time being they have bogged us down.

I don’t know why I woke up this morning and gave such great importance to this subject.

Maybe the smoke has diverted my attention from other things.

At least I didn’t mention all the new taxes that Chicago, Cook County and Illinois put in the books. You’ll see those after July 1st.

Keep good care of yourself and finish June strong…. End of the month, end of the quarter and the halfway mark on a lackluster year.

Though I can hear Bryan Adams singing, “those were the best days of my life, back in the summer of ‘23… yah yah!”

June 28th, 2023

 This air quality issue has become a major problem for Chicagoland this week. Let’s thank our Canadian friends for the fire pit smell. Just think of the amount of sunlight we’ve lost during the month of June.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the Canadians. Especially those that speak French. Just think if the French would have done a better job in Mexico when they were trying to conquer it. All the Mexicans would be speaking French rather than Spanish.

The Puerto Ricans speaking Spanish. The Brazilians speaking Portuguese and the Mexicans speaking French.

Well that didn’t happen and that is how we got Cinco de Mayo.

If you go to Farmers Market today you’ll see George Shepley bopping around in his Covid Mask. Though I wanted to tell him he is a goofball, I had to commend him for his sensibility.

Even though it smells like a bond fire out there and you might want to grab a solo cup…. Use precautions and stay safe.

June 27th, 2023

 Today is National PTSD Awareness Day. I actually found out that June is the month for National PTSD Awareness.

So many men and women veterans are riddled with Posttraumatic Stress Disorder. As we grow further from the Covid years a growing number of people are experiencing stress, anxiety, depression and probably PTSD.

This PTSD thing just didn’t happen recently. Let’s make it easy for everyone to understand. John Rambo had PTSD. That is how we first met him wandering into that small town all dazed and confused. He just wanted to get something to eat, but the town sheriff pushed him too far.

There is a movie from 1946 called “The Best Years of our Lives.” It deals with three veterans returning home after WWII. One returns with an alcohol problem, a sailor returns with hooks where his hands once were and the third suffers from PTSD.

I watched the news last night. The war in Ukraine, pride parades across the country, immigrants flooding sanctuary cities and the continuing violence in black communities.

Do you know what the common denominator is with all of these stories? ……..PTSD

Now I’m not a sudden fucking genius on PTSD because I’m chalking about it this morning.

I would love to see the end of war in Europe. It is time to strengthen the protection and inclusion for the gay community. I long for an easier way to circulate new citizens into our great country and I would do anything possible to end the pain and suffering black people face daily.

The world is at war. It faces hatred and poverty. It’s in a mental health crisis and needs help.

I wasn’t planning on such a dark subject taking over today’s subject. I jotted down a line from a Hoagy Carmichael song. Read that it was PTSD day and did the weather report.

I guess I better mention that LSU beat Florida last night to win the College World Series. I’m getting tired of the hazy days of early summer courtesy of our Canadian neighbors.

Let’s end this negative Morning Chalkboard on a positive note.

I don’t have Putin’s phone number. I missed the Pride Parade. I don’t have any room to house an immigrant and I’m not going down to Englewood to sing “Let there be peace on earth.”

All I’m going to do is try and spread as much JumboLove in my corner of the world!

“With ev'ry step I take

Let this be my solemn vow

To take each moment and live

Each moment in peace eternally

Let there be peace on earth

And let it begin with JumboLove!”

June 26th, 2023

 We are banging through 2023 at a fast clip. On Saturday we will be halfway through the year. I think the biggest highlight of the year was having a bowl of Chili at Bishops on a rainy Saturday afternoon.

So far 2023 feels like it’s been one two three punt, one two three punt, one two three punt.

I did see that black squirrel on Friday, so that’s a good omen. Maybe that might pick things up in the second half of the year.

Fourth of July is next week and Christmas will be here before we know it. I’m going to make sure in six months I’m not going to be writing that 2023 went by so quickly and all I did this year is punt the fucking ball.

Handing the ball off gets things done, but it is a hard way to get ahead. Time to pass the ball down field and score some points before the ball in Time Square lights up.

The last week of June is upon us. Time to slap some GoldBond on the nooks and crannies, top off Betty’s transmission fluid and sprint into July.

I’m going to start the week off by using something I learned from Wags. Today is the Shepkids mom’s birthday. If she’s as smart as I thought she was when we met, she’s probably a daily Chalkhead.

Happy birthday Terri… I hope the next half of the year finds happiness and good health and this next trip around the sun is successful.

Alright, time to get things done… for the rest of you Chalkheads, let’s all meet in the forest preserve for a kegger, some SkrineChops and a game of sharks and minnows!

June 25th, 2023

 Today’s Chalkboard quote comes from a soon to be ten year old philosopher, my daughter Hazel. I don’t know what prompted her to come up with it, but I went with it. I guess I gave her what she wanted.

Unfortunately for her the June 25th, 2023 Chalkboard will always be around and could possibly be used against her.

The next time she wants a Squishmallow or another cookie and I say no. Definitely when she asks if she can play TocoBoca or Roblox on my phone and I say, “not right now love.”

Just after she comes off the peak of being pissed off at dad…. I’m going to say, “You don’t know someone until they don’t get what they want!”

My advice to young fathers out there.

•Never buy one of those big stuffed animals called a Squishmallow.

•Never bake cookies on a cold snowy day.

•Never download Roblox to your phone.

Take this advice and you won’t have to say no again.

You buy one Squishmallow and suddenly you have a bed full of them. They multiply as quickly as those Tribbles did on the Spaceship Enterprise.

Don’t bake things from scratch. You will only spoil your children. Buy shitty cookies at Walgreens.

….and your cellphone! If you download Roblox or MindCraft…. You’ll be deleting TicToc before you know it.

So remember… in life…. You just don’t know someone until the time you don’t cave in and spoil them

or

like the English bloke with the big lips once said, “you can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes… you get what

You need.”

Hey it Sunday Funday. Riverside received a little rain overnight. Today is a mixed bag of playing it by ear. We are already starting the last week of June and the Fourth of July is our next stop.

And with the birthday of America coming up, so will a ton of fucking fireworks. I hate fireworks. Well I don’t hate the big ones done by professionals with Tchaikovsky in the background. I just hate the ones the drunk guy down the block blows off at 2:30 in the morning.

I was told you can buy gummies for dogs that are terrified during thunderstorms and neighborhood pyrotechnics.

Anyway, time for a cup of coffee before the open sign turns on at Jumbo’s Diner.

I want all you Chalkheads to experience happiness today and continue it all week.

Hey next Saturday is the sixth anniversary of my Felix Unger Day and another birthday that furthers me from 1966.

Yes, it was on my birthday when I was asked to move back East of Mannheim Road.

I guess you really don’t know someone until you’re knocking on Oscar Madison’s front door.

June 24th, 2023

 I was going to come on here and complain how my life seems to be in a rut, but who wants to listen to me moan and groan on a Saturday morning.

I woke up on the couch and surprisingly I slept pretty well. I did wake up at one point with a solid leg cramp in my calf. I also had a dream that I was playing ”hide and seek” in my parents living room with guys from work.

Last night I went out on the balcony to tend to my tomatoes and feed my squirrels. The squirrels on Lincoln Avenue scurry to my lawn when they hear the door open and the bag of peanuts being put on the bistro table.

I noticed a black squirrel running along the branches that reach across the yard. I’ve never seen a black squirrel in Riverside. I know all the squirrels on my block so this one was stunning.

I Googled for information on black squirrels in Northern Illinois and they are 1 in 10,000 of the population. It’s very rare to see them. They are more common up towards Wisconsin and in Michigan.

It also said seeing a black squirrel is a good omen and that’s what I need to get my tires out of this rut.

Black squirrels symbolize sign of new beginnings and changes, heralding exciting times ahead. They are also believed to be imbued with good luck, symbolizing fortuitous outcomes and success.

So I got that going for me.

Today is The Feast of my Patron Saint, John the Baptist. The crazy cousin that paved the way for Jesus. I picture J the B as a hippy that smelled like patchouli oil and hallucinated when he prayed to his uncle. My parents named me after a crazy Jew who pissed of the daygo’s!

Thanks Mom and Dad!

It is Germanfest in Forest Park today. It’s also Tim Lutz Memorial Day in Oak Park. It is a GoldBond Day and it’s also Shepelinni Pizza Night in the DDD… so tip your bartender, water your lawn, spread love and experience human nature.

…and if people ask why… tell them that it’s human nature and to do it that way.

….and if you don’t want this earworm then just remember one thing… be careful of who you love and be careful of what you do 'cause the lie becomes the truth.

(Barb McEvoy

St. John is your patron saint, but you were named after your Grampa John Zoellner... He was so delighted to have a grandson...after fathering three girls,, that he braved excruciating pain from an unsuccessful hip replacement to attend your baptism....

June 23rd, 2023

      I was standing in a hotel elevator in New Orleans with two older couples dressed in Florida Gator colors. By the time the elevator let us off on our floor my buddy Jeffrey Spears and I had tickets to the LSU versus Florida football game.

We were heading to Baton Rouge in the morning for our first visit to “Death Valley.” Not only did those Gator fans in the elevator have two extra tickets, but they kindly sold them for face value. We were going to the game for eighteen bucks.

And though it was Florida fans that gave us this opportunity, it was an LSU shirt that I bought in the French Quarter that Friday night.

LSU has been my SEC team ever since.

The next morning we bought some muffuletta sandwiches at the grocery on Decatur Street. Then we headed to the beer store and filled up a styrofoam cooler with Abita for our impromptu tailgate.

Jeff was the more responsible guy so he was driving the rental. That enabled me to grab a ”to go” hurricane for the trip over to the State Capitol of Louisiana and the home of the LSU University Tigers.

The Bayou Bengals!

Geaux LSU!

We arrived at the parking lot and had our glimpse at the glory of SEC football on Saturday. A traditional event full of southern charm that had a more religious feeling than any college game I ever attended before.

Here we were two Yankees hungover from the night before. Actually I was already ripped thanks to the shampoo effect.

We absorbed everything purple and gold and were baptized as new members of the LSU family.

The last couple nights I’ve watched my Tigers defeat Wake Forest in the College baseball World Series. Those victories put LSU into the championship against the dreaded florida gators this weekend.

So that is why you see “Geaux Tigers” on the Morning Chalkboard today.

I thought the Billy Shakes quote was fitting for the Football story. Jeff and I took a chance and tried something different. Instead of walking around all the bars in New Orleans on that October Saturday in 1995, we went outside the box and it changed our lives.

Jeff is the biggest LSU fan in Nigeria and I’m the biggest LSU fan in my neighborhood.

Life is about getting out of your comfort zone and experiencing alternative plans. Maybe it was only another football game, but for the two of us it was an indoctrination into another realm.

Happy Friday…. Go do something different this weekend.

June 22nd, 2023

Here is today’s Chalkboard… yesterday was a long day and I’m tired.

Use GoldBond today!

 

June 21st, 2023

     Greg Potter has the trading desk just to the left of mine. Potter has a window next to his desk and fourteen floors down is a pond that has a line of trees along the edge. A much better view than the one at the Board of Trade trading floor.

Everyday around noon I’ll walk to the window and tell Greg where the shadows are. Yesterday I told him the shadows were sitting directly under the trees. In a few months the shadows will be stretched out towards the edge of the pond.

Potter was born when I was in high school so he sees an old guy with weird quirks. I hope I leave this kid with one memory when our careers go their separate ways. I’d want Greg to have learned an appreciation for time and how shadows are different everyday.

It was Harry Caray that pointed out shadows to me when he called games for both of Chicago’s baseball teams.

More so for Cub games because they played only day games when I was younger. He always pointed out where the shadows were during the game. By the last couple innings of a 1:20 start the infield would be dark and the outfield and bleachers still bright.

Knowing where the shadows will be during the year gives me a good bearing on where my life is.

The shadows will always be short on June 21st and long just before Christmas. Children grow up, neighborhoods change, friends grow gray and our parents leave too soon.

But shadows will always mark our days….

I don’t want to move from Chicagoland because we have the best pizza and hotdogs in the country. I don’t want to move from Chicagoland because I don’t want to relearn the shadows path from a different angle.

I like my angle in life.

Today’s Chalkboard quote is from William Faulkner and he might be right.

Though I like where my horizons lie. I like the one in the morning when a new beginning stretches sunlight on a fresh day and I like the fading glimpse of sunshine as the other horizon settles in for the night.

Look at both your horizons and watch the shadows in between. You’ll learn a lot about yourself and where you stand in time.

It’s gonna be a long hot day. Might have to pull out the old "Frampton Comes Alive" album. He too taught me about shadows as well.

I hope I just earwormed your Wednesday.

June 20th, 2023

 These three day weekends can put some hurt on if you’re not careful. I wasn’t very careful.

Now the dreaded short work week and there is never anything easy about four day weeks. At least that’s what I’ve always experienced in my career.

Father’s Day weekend is in the rearview mirror. On we go to the Fourth of July weekend. The fourth is on a Tuesday this year and will stretch out all the banging.

Not much to say, I’m just anxious to get back into the flow.

I do miss the trading floor in the summer. Nothing better than getting out of work at two o’clock in the afternoon and being smack dab in the middle of Chicago.

Those days are also in the rearview mirror…..

Today is National Ice Cream Soda Day. If the endless appetizers, the beer, the cocktails, the red meat, the cigars didn’t kill me this weekend… why not top it off with a trip to the soda fountain this afternoon!

Don’t ask me where the nearest soda fountain is. I think those were gone before the CTA cars had air conditioning.

Maybe a trip to The Jewels, but make sure you buy soda water or seltzer water…. Whatever you want to call it.

Soda water, chocolate ice cream and chocolate syrup. The perfect threesome before the days start getting short again.

June 19th, 2023

       Today is a Monday in the middle of June. I should be getting into Betty the Green Blazer and heading to work.

Instead I’m laying in bed with a stuffy nose from closed windows and air conditioning. My lungs are heavy from that Father’s Day cigar. I have an axe sticking in my forehead from that last cocktail. You know the one, the “I don’t have work tomorrow let’s have one more” cocktail.

My stomach is tossing around from the first and final grass fed steak that I’ll ever make.

But the kicker is the huge pimple that is more like a boil delicately placed on the inside of my upper thigh. Probably there from my Father’s Day bike ride.

Like Jimmy O’Brien said when I told him I bought a new bike over the weekend…

“You need a bike seat the size of a park bench Jumbo!!!”

You got to hear that in a deep Brooklyn accent to really appreciate it.

I bought my bike on Saturday September 8th in 2001. OB made the park bench seat comment on the next Monday morning. It was one of the last times he ever busted my balls.

Maybe if the government wants to hand out holidays left and right, instead of a few moments of silence, let’s have a National Holiday in early September. (That last comment might be a bit harsh.)

I think the new Juneteenth Holiday is a knee-jerk reaction to the George Floyd riots during Covid. It was a painful time at the beginning of this decade. I think this new holiday was established to appease the blacks only. What the country needs is a National Civil Rights Day that is a day of recognition for an issue that has been painful in American history. A holiday for ALL Americans to come together and celebrate our differences.

Okay, I'm jumping off the soapbox!

Wish me luck on popping this pain in my thigh. If you listen closely you’ll hear a Brooklyn sounding laugh coming from heaven.

Markets are closed today so maybe I’ll vacuum and mop the kitchen floor.

“Let’s Roll Boys………”

June 18th, 2023

      Today’s quote comes from one of my favorite books and is the last line of the novel. I read this book over again every few years. I realized on accident the older I get the more sense the story becomes.

I first read “Gatsby” my junior year in high school. This line was a game changer that summed up my painful childhood. So I thought.

Oh my God…. I was living in a life that was pushing against me. My parents divorce, moving away from my hometown, from my father… what a cruel life.

What a crock of shit, I had a damn good childhood.

Years later sitting on the end table next to my father’s filthy ashtray was a copy of “Gatsby.”

“Dad, you’re reading Fitzgerald?”

“Son, I’ve read this book a dozen times in my life. Every time I read it the story matures with who I am.”

So we beat on…. we continue to grow older in life, not old. The metaphor of a boat pushing against the current captures how life can be.

(And the use of alliteration is flawless F. Scott)

Life pushes against us, it slows our ability to live effortlessly. Rarely is the water smooth and calm and when it is… catch your breath.

Can you picture me and Don Shepley sitting on the back porch? He probably has Dick Buckley’s jazz program on WBEZ or “Those were the Days” on WNIB playing on his transistor radio. A cold bottle of Liebfraumilch sitting between us. It was the one time we sat down and talked about a book.

I walked away from that Saturday afternoon with the mindset to continue to evaluate or reevaluate life as often as possible.

The present will always push against us, but like a novel, things change the older we get. We look at everything with a wiser pair of eyes.....

When I was seventeen reading “Gatsby” I didn’t have much of a past. My head was up my ass most of those years of childhood.

When I read “Gatsby” today I have more of a sense of how to row the boat calmly into the current of life.

I’m not getting old by living in the past, I’m getting older by learning from the past.

On Father’s Day I want to thank my father for all of the gifts he gave me. More importantly, the gift to move on and not dwell. To square your shoulders and push through to the next day.

Let me dummy it down….

When I watched “Gilligan’s Island” in 1974 I had the hots for Mary Ann. In 1984 when I was old enough to vote I wanted Ginger. Today I have the hots for Mrs. Howell.

The older we get our perspective changes.

Happy Father’s Day Shep… I love you more and more the older I get.

June 17th, 2023

 These next few weeks are the best part of summer for me. The days are at their longest and Spring is fading quickly into the warmth of the direct sunlight. Catching these cool nights is a treasure before the hum of air conditioning takes force.

Summer memories for me spring quickly through music. Early in life the music playing on Chicago’s AM stations brings back memories from my childhood. WLS, WCFL and even WGN played songs that I hear today and I think of skinned knees and bike spokes clapping with baseball cards.

There was a park by my house that had shade trees with branches that were easy to climb. One of the kids would often bring a transistor radio. We would climb trees and listen to Elton John, Stevie Wonder, Paul McCartney and Marvin Gaye.

One morning I snuck my dad’s radio to the park. It was very similar to the radio they had on Gilligan’s Island. My dad had it on the shelf by the washer and dryer. He would listen to the news, opera or Dick Buckley while he did his laundry. He always had WGN on in the morning when he was getting ready for work.

I climbed my favorite tree and found the branches that I always perched on. I can still remember the song playing on that traumatic summer day. ”Rock the Boat” by the Hues Corporation was on WLS when the tree limb snapped.

I was getting tired of holding my dads radio so I found a small twig of a branch close to my roost. I stuck the radio handle upon the small branch and enjoyed music hands free ten feet off the ground.

I can vividly picture the shadows along the grass at the moment of impact. It was probably 10:30 or 11:00 in the morning. Close to the time to jump down and walk home for lunch and Bozos Circus.

“Rock the boat, don’t rock the boat baby, rock the boat, don’t tip the boat over….”

SNAP!

…and in slow motion my dad’s transistor radio floated to the ground. It actually fell quickly to the ground, but the fear of how my day was about to end put everything into slow motion.

I think of the scene from “Fast Times” when Spicoli wrecked Charles Jefferson’s car when I realized the trouble I was going to face when my dad got home.

“He’s gonna shit! He’s gonna kill me! First he’s gonna shit and then he’s gonna kill me!”

I jumped out of the tree and gathered the pieces of the broken radio and walked home. My mom was waiting for me at the back door. I’m sure she was thinking to herself, “oh no… your dad is going to shit and then he’s gonna kill John.”

My mom laid a hand towel on the dining room table and placed the shattered radio on top. Sitting there in plain view for my father to notice upon entry to the house.

It was a long afternoon…. Bozo sucked that day. My mom made cut up hotdogs with a plop of ketchup on the side for dipping. To this day I detest ketchup near my hotdogs. I laid around the house waiting for my father to get home.

I tried watching the Cubs game, but that didn’t ease my fears. I read and stacked my comics neatly. I put the encyclopedias back into alphabetical order. I laid in my bed and turned on my transistor radio to calm my nerves.

It didn’t work, but I got a great idea. I’ll take my radio and put it down by the laundry room. It might not be as good, but at least my dad won’t miss George Gershwin or Bix Beiderbecke.

Years later I found out that my mom called my dad at work to give him a heads up. She told him how well the Catholic guilt was working. How we placed the broken radio on the table. Showing that the truth is always faster. I guess she wanted to lighten the blow if my dad came home in a bad mood.

As the day got closer to Don Shepley’s arrival I became more worried. He was running late and finally arrived around six o’clock.

My dad stopped off at Radio Shack and bought an identical radio to the one I broke that morning. He pretended like he didn’t see the mangled wreck on the table and he said, “son, go down to the laundry and get my old radio. I want to give it to you.”

“Dad, I took it to the park and it fell out of my tree and broke.”

He stood up and walked down to the basement quietly and brought up my transistor radio.

“Why was this radio down in the laundry?”

“Well….. umm…. I…. a…. Didn’t want you to miss Wally Phillips in the morning dad.”

My dad knew how horrible I felt all day. He knew I gave my radio up to replace his. He was late after work because he stopped off to buy a new radio, but he also stopped and bought me a peppermint patty. He slipped it out of the pocket on his dress shirt and put it in my right hand.

“Moose….I’m proud of you. You did something stupid and you learned from your mistake. You were ready with the truth and you sacrificed your own radio for me. I guess the Catholic school is teaching you well.”

Learn from your mistakes, the truth is quicker and be selfless.

I never brought a radio to the park again. Later that summer Kevin Albrecht dropped his dad’s radio out of the tree. I put my hand on his shoulder and told him the truth is quicker, good luck and don’t tell your dad I was with him.

Time to make breakfast and watch King Charles in his first Trooping the Colour. My father gave me an appreciation for British Military Bands. The things our father's leave us.... Happy Father's Day Dad!