I didn’t make a chalkboard yesterday and I’m not very motivated today. We are sliding into the end of August and right into Labor Day weekend. I’m collecting a huge pile of past summers.
I can tell you right off the bat what summer was what for the first thirty. That happened in 1985, that happened in 1992, that happened in 1974 and that, yeah that was 1996.
Once I get past thirty summers they start to blend into summertime blurs.
That might have been 1998 or 1999. I can’t remember if that was 2006 or 2007. That could have happened sometime between the summer of 2010 and 2013. Summers just melt together the older I’ve gotten.
Even these last six summers in Riverside. There was pre Covid summer and there is post Covid summer.
I don’t even want to know what the next twenty five to thirty summers will bring.
The summer of 1993 was thirty years ago. I lived in a awesome apartment building in Oak Park. My dad’s house was a mile away. I worked in the five year pit on the trading floor. Cocktails at Ceres were well under ten bucks. I traveled all over the place and met many people. They all loved “Jumbo from Chicago.”
The summer of 2053 is thirty years from now. I’ll either be rocking in heaven with my parents.
Or…….
I’ll be eating gruel in a nursing home wearing a diaper.
In a sixty year span between 1993 to 2053, I will have gone from a hot tub in Vegas with the Houston Oiler Cheerleaders to a bingo table at Shady Acres with Mabel from Elk Grove Village.
Here is a good reason to live in the past, because the future doesn’t look very promising.
Hey, it’s National Radio Day… I’m an old school radio guy. I always have a radio tuned in at home. WDCB, XRT and WFMT are my go to FM stations. WGN and WBBM on the AM dial.
Have yourself a fantastic week and put the smile on the sun.
