January 31st, 2024

 It’s Humpday and I’m not going to get wrapped up in today’s quote.

Just don’t apologize if it’s just to appease. Apologetic people are pathetic.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

If you did something wrong, apologize and move on.

Other than that it’s the last day of January and it’s both National Hot Chocolate Day and National Brandy Alexander Day…. Just have both and don’t apologize for it.

I woke up startled from a dream hearing the last words, “Because I’m in heaven Shep!”

I was trying to make dinner plans with a dead person. I was startled upon wake up after hearing that…

….I’m sorry, but I can’t go into detail.

I put a smile on the sun today and a mild temperature up in the corner. So go move your shadow along a pretty path.

January 30th, 2024

 I’m not sure the mountain that I’m climbing is very glorious right now. It’s more like a sledding hill that has been iced over and I’m trying to carry ten toboggans back to the top.

I’m taking those choppy side steps while wearing tight snow pants and a parka that cuts off my vision.

Everyday is a hill to climb. The incline doesn’t go away by hitting the snooze bar. It isn’t fear or trepidation that holds back that first step. Consequences narrow down with age. Either you climb the mountain of Tuesday or you punt it into a steeper Wednesday elevation.

At the foot of that hill is a motivation that pushes the collection of steps upward.

Maybe the motivation is at the top of the hill? That means faith in yourself will get you up there…

…you gotta have faith in yourself if you want to have faith in anything else.

I’m done being Stuart Smiley this morning, but he did say that we aren’t here to carpet the world. We are human beings and not human doings. That’s pretty good for me!

Some days are comedies, some days tragedies… my days are skits at Second City and I don’t use cue cards.

I just improvise… because I don’t have a fucking clue. I just figure it out as it comes. If you think you’re going to have a tough climb today. Be grateful that you’re not Hillary Clinton’s gynecologist or the person in the flat below mine who’s bedroom is under mine.

At least you don’t have to look into the Senator’s va jay jay or hear me humping and lumbering around upstairs.

Yesterday that sun worked its ass off trying to shine. I picked Hazel up after school and drove west out of the parking lot. The reflection of sunlight on her face was the motivation I searched for on the Monday Mountain.

I’m going to buy some tulips today and give them to Hazel when she climbs into Betty this afternoon.

Flowers and sunlight are always makers of enthusiasm.

I will leave you with a Tuesday earworm….

“Climb every mountain,

Search high and low,

Follow every byway,

Every path you know.

Climb every mountain,

Ford every stream,

Follow every rainbow,

'Till you find your dream.”

January 29th, 2024

 Several days ago I posted a picture of Chicago taken in the early 1950’s. The picture was looking North on Michigan Avenue near Grant Park. A green bus was heading northbound through the intersection. The women in the picture were all wearing skirts, the men brimmed hats. They were all white.

The post read "Chicago in 1954... everybody minded their own business and still took care of their neighborhoods." Close to fifty people gave a thumbs up or a heart. Most of the comments were nostalgic, but two of my friends didn't see eye to eye with me.

Two well educated and successful men that I respect greatly. One of the men is married to a woman of color. They are raising their two children on the near Southside of Chicago in I believe the Bronzeville Area. The other man worked with me on the trading floor and is currently an expatriate living in Nigeria.

They see the historical value of Chicago a little differntly than I do. I see a Chicago with clean streets and well manicured citizens. I see a Chicago that has a faith in itself, in its government and in the services that it provided. Chicago had neighborhoods and Catholic parishes that ran smoothly by alderman, ward bosses, priests and capos.

I look at historic pictures and see neon lights, table clothes and torn down train stations. I see pictures of buildings that once stood and pictures of buildings that still stand, but stand in the shadows of the modern age.

My friends see pictures of hastily built housing projects and expressways that divided neighborhoods. My friend from Bronzeville posted pictures of an uglier side of Chicago. A Chicago seen through segregation and racism. He made his point that not everyone sees Chicago the way that I do.

My other friend who once took a college course taught by James Baldwin said to me, " you are the kind of guy that will celebrate Mandela and then post the above. Think long and hard before you respond."

I didn't start thinking, I just started typing. The first thing that I did was look through my 1,300 Facebook friends. I did a rough count of how many of my friends are of color and counted close to two hundred. I don't know if that is a good amount or not. I thought about those 200 people and wondered if they saw the picture from 1954. Were they offended and did they share similar views with Vincent and Jeffrey?

Here is my conclusion.... if I didn't post that picture, I would have never seen or heard the otherside of the story. History is an important lesson. The common thread that we all have is the history our family handed down to us. Then we went to school and learned more about history and social studies.

Several years ago I took the Shepkids to the 31st street beach. Just north of the beach is a boulder with a plaque for the 1919 Chicago Race Riots. We stopped and read the words on the memorial and talked about what they meant. The Shepkids learned on that beautiful summer afternoon about the ugliness that has lerked in Chicago.

Last week I posted a picture that showed the beauty of Chicago and that triggered a Chalkhead to show us the uglier side of the city on the lake.

Yes, I post about King, Mandela, Angelou and Langston. Yes, I post about the Daley family, the Capone family and the Accardo family and I glorify the machine and the mob.

When that picture was taken on Michigan Avenue, projects were being built in the ghetto. The Dan Ryan expressway was built to segregate the white neighborhoods from the black neighborhoods. I can't go back and change it, but I can make sure the Shepkids won't have to.

Today I quoted Tolstoy... it is hard to be patient in the short lives that we really do have. In the grabber section I counted 10,000 days into the future and 10,000 days into the past. That is just over twenty-seven years.

We all know what we were doing in September of 1996, but we have no clue what we will be doing in 2051.

2051 seems like an eternity, but 1996 was just yesterday.

Don't think about that right now. Think about the later sunset today and that I put a smile on the sun.

.... and be kind!

January 28th, 2024

 Chicagoland is experiencing the first sunset after five o’clock in almost three months today. Next week we will be watching for the groundhog and a shadow. In just five weeks the Forest Park Saint Patrick’s Parade will float across Madison Street.

Four years ago I was marching in that parade with a dear friend who was running for a political office. We had about thirty people in our group and I proudly wore my kilt.

We didn’t know it at the time, but that was the last public event that we would ever participate in before Covid. The next week everything closed down and people locked themselves into crawlspaces.

I was hugging and kissing hundreds of people along the parade route. Not once did I hesitate or fear that I could get The China Flu.

Oh and I called it “The China Flu” on the Morning Chalkboard that spring and one of my lib lab friends got all unglued. She was so mad that she defriended me. Someone that I had known for over thirty years was offended because I called a mysterious illness that originated from a lab in China, “The China Flu!”

Maybe it was my reply when I told her I’d rather call it “The Oriental Illness.” That probably took it over the edge.

The next week after that Saint Patty’s Day celebration, they shutdown my trading floor. It was probably a good thing that the floor finally closed. It was time to shit or get off the pot. The pits were nearly empty those last few years and the glory days were gone just after the turn of the century.

I quoted some advice drawn up by Billy Shakes this morning. I think it’s pretty clear what his point is.

1. Show people love until you realize they are an assclown.

2. Trust is earned… it isn’t a participation trophy handed out like pâté at a cocktail party.

3. Don’t go out of your way and be a jagoff to people.

Take Shakespeare’s advice and everything should be copacetic.

I bookended the Summer of ‘24 in the grabber section. The days are getting longer and sooner than later the grass will be green again.

Those Chalkheads of the Soul Persuasion get an extra day for African American History month in 2024. Besides awesome hair and sweet dance moves… you’ve got February 29th as well.

Oh shit! That last paragraph is going to weed out a couple more lib labs this morning! Too bad for them when they miss the James Baldwin and Maya Angelou quotes next month.

Maybe William should have said, “Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none, don’t apologize for something you didn’t do.”????

It’s Sunday Funday… many of you will be watching the scripted football games today. I’ll be watching the “America’s Test Kitchen” marathon on PBS Create this afternoon.

Let’s end January on a high note this week. Please drive for your friends that participated in Dry January. Also, be ready for the alarm clock to go off with that annoying Sonny and Cher song.

Sorry I can’t put a smile on your sun today. These cloudy days are the current trend. We missed the Wolf Moon last week because of this. Don’t worry, it will be back next January.

Go Baltimore, win one for Johnny Unitas. Go Detroit, win one for Barry Sanders.

January 27th, 2024

 It was a Beatles song that said, “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.

Most of you Chalkheads are in love or have been in love at one point in your life.

I’ve been loved by my parents and am currently loved by my children. In between, I have fallen in love twice. I think both times I was loved by the other person.

Well, I know the first one was in love with me because she still loves me. Our relationship has evolved through the years and we are still dear friends.

The second one hates my guts, but she gave me three hearts that love me dearly. So her hate pays off.

When my dad was telling me about va jay jays and boners, he slipped in a strong message.

The two most important gifts a man can receive in his lifetime are…. The love of a woman and the trust of a child.

He was right, a’fucking’gain!

But what about saying “I love you” and hearing in return, “I love you too.”

It gets back to the Beatles song…

My kids often tell me that they love me, but I make a point of telling them everyday that this Old Fat Fuck loves them dearly!

I hear them say, “I love you too dad!”

I was born before 1970, so I don’t use “LOL” or “FWIW” or any of the other text message short cuts…

…but with the Shepkids I do use “AOMH.” Only the four of us use that abbreviation.

It means, All Of My Heart. Because I use my whole fucking heart to love and I’m teaching my children to do the same damn thing.

In these last twenty five summers of my life, I plan on saying “I love you” more than hearing, “I love you too.”

The other day a guy moving to Colorado told me that he loves me. Last week my work wife told me that he loves me. Last night before bed, George said, “I love you Big Man” and on Wednesday the Redheads got out of Betty and told me that they love me. That was in earshot of the only person in the world that does not love me. Actually, there are colleagues of mine through the years that lack integrity… they don’t love me either.

Instead of saying “I love you too,” my dad always said, “I love you more.”

Or most of the time he would just yell out “More!”

That drove my mom crazy and on her lower road she would always say that is stupid and that love always balances out. I don’t want love to balance out. I want to love more than be loved.

I hear my parents tell me that they love me every morning when I am praying for all of your sorry ass’s. Someday, I’ll hear it again in the eternal love waiting for me in twenty five years.

Maybe thirty if I skip the trip to Maxwell Street….

I love you…. I love you too…. I love you…. I love you too…. I love you…. I love you too.

Whatever end you’re on, it is a beautiful thing. Before I reach the end…. I’m going to say “I love you” a shit ton of times.

Dont be too disappointed if you don’t hear someone say, “I love you” today. You can call me if you really need to hear it.

But you’ll hear it today when you go out and be your kind self.

So go out and be your kind self and spread love into your world.

Because all we need is love, love… love is all we need!

January 26th, 2024

 Don’t worry, don’t worry…. Don’t let today’s quote fool you. Yesterday was Robert Burns Day and I was up reading a book of his poetry.

Though you can bring up the Joni Mitchell theory of both sides now when reading a love poem.

A love poem looks different when you’re not in love. Robert Burns was a romantic and that’s how I look at myself. I can find romance in anything and it doesn’t have to be a relationship.

All the little things in life are romantic.

The lobby of the Board of Trade is romantic to me. A park bench near Buckingham Fountain. The front seat of a CTA car that lets you watch the tracks rolling underneath your journey. A sunrise on the walking bridge in Riverside. A sunset on my balcony overlooking the Divorced Dad District.

Romance is beauty and beauty is to be relished. Speaking of relish…. A Chicago hot dog is romantic. So is a chocolate eclairs from the Oak Park Bakery and a cheeseburger from the Billygoat.

I find it romantic walking into Sox Park and smelling grilled onions. Going to a ballgame has all the magic of a first date and leaving after the bottom of the ninth brings the disappointment that feels like a divorce.

If a game goes nine full innings at Comiskey or Wrigley, the ending usually isn’t good.

I’ve got about twenty five years left, thirty if I have more salads and less Maxwell Street Polish sandwiches….

…. and I’m going to find romance in every bite, every sunrise and every turn.

Even though…..

……I’d rather enjoy a gyros at Sub-tender today than grool at a nursing home tomorrow.

Many of you will recognize the score in the grabber section today. I bet I go back to the Chalkboard Flashback for January 26th and those same numbers are there.

Oh how great it was to be the forty six on that cold Sunday, thirty eight years ago. Unfortunately since that day the forty six has been haunting and the ten has gone on a successful run.

I look back at January 26th as a day that was the highest of highs and since then it’s been a journey through the lowest of lows…. for Bear fans.

January 26th, 1986…. The older we get the more days of the year become an anniversary.

Life was so simple when Christmas and your birthday were the only days that mattered.

Then age brings you December 7th, July 7th, October 7th, September 11th, May 6th, October 3rd, September 25th and October 18th. You can fill in your own dates.

July 1st and December 25th don’t look as bright like they once did.

So get up and put a smile on your sun and go find romance watching stuff do shit.

Make January 26th count, only this time get thirty four into the end zone.

(December 7th, Pearl Harbor. July 7th, London Bombings. October 7th, hamas attacks Israel. September 11th, islam attacks America. May 6th, my Mom passed away. October 3rd, my Dad passed away. September 25th, my wedding day and October 18th, the day of my divorce.)

January 25th, 2024

 The beginning of my Riverside era clipped the end of someone else's Riverside era.

The end of a marriage brought me to the town on the River. It is the hometown of a person that I met shortly after I arrived.

Now that I’m settled in to my new home, my friend is leaving his. Leaving the town that he was raised in, raised his kids in...

...for the mountains of his twilight years in Colorado.

The highlight of Covid was sitting up on the balcony and out of the blue, my friend would drive by and honk his obnoxious truck horn and yell up, “just checking up on you Mr. Shepley!”

That truck stopped in the Divorced Dad District last night for possibly the final time. The farewell “checking up on you” that ended with a goodbye hug.

My friend told me to keep being a great man and a great father and invited me to visit. Then he drove away in the dusk and fog of a late January evening.

Good friends come and go in our lives. The circumstances of living bring paths together and often moves them apart. Yesterday was a move apart day.

I haven’t traveled very far in the last five years and probably won’t in the next five. That was probably the last time I saw the man that I shared many breakfasts with at Michael’s Pancake House.

At least for the time being.

Today’s quote is an Irish farewell for the dear friend moving to the retirement of pine trees and ski slopes.

This is the full version:

“There are good ships And wood ships, Ships that sail the sea, But the best ships Are friendships And may they Always be!"

Now we go from Illinois to Colorado and from Irish goodbyes to Scottish poets.

Today is Burns Night as we celebrate the birthday of Robert Burns. If you’re not familiar with Mr. Burns… you sing a song he wrote every New Year, Auld Lang Syne.

Today is the last Thursday of January. Go enjoy friendship, the rarest and most important part of life.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot…. Best of Joy and Love to you Mr. Foley.

January 24th Flashback

 2023

I just want to sit on the front stoop at 220 South Lombard and take a deep breath. Maybe reach for my mitt and a rubber league baseball. Put a wad of big league chew in my mouth and throw the bottom of the ninth against the concrete steps.

My dad can come out and yell at me for throwing that god damn ball against the house again.

He never understood….When I pitched that ball against those seven steps it always came back to the pitching mound out on the sidewalk. I don’t know why the hell it pissed him off so much.

I just want to sit on that stoop one more time and enjoy a root beer float and watch the first lightning bugs appear in the front yard. Listen to my dad talk about when he was a kid. How much of a treat it was to have ice cream on the front porch.

I just want to sit on that front stoop and drink my first legal Old Style without sneaking behind the garage….. having my dad call Old Style Panther Piss as he hands me another one from the icebox. I’d do anything if I could have one more cold one on the front steps at 220 South Lombard.

I wonder if the man who owns our house now would call the police if I stopped over and threw a ball against his front stoop. I can tell him the tree in his front yard was planted during the spring of 1984 and offer him one of my Old Style’s before Oak Park’s finest show up.

Whenever I was around that front stoop I never had any problems. I didn’t have any unpaid bills. I didn’t have an ex wife driving me insane. I didn’t have to worry about anything.

If I fell down my dad would pick me up, throw me a clean towel and turn the water on in the shower.

We all need to pay an occasional visit to our parents front stoop. Every once in awhile I'll get into Betty the Green Blazer and do a drive by. Usually I stop by my dad's old White Hen and buy a lottery ticket or go by the Oak Park bakery and get a coffee cake.

The tree we planted is taller than the house. The new owners planted bushes and flower beds all over the place. Any remnants of a baseball diamond or the gridiron made famous at the TurkeyBowl of 1981 are long gone. The third base line has a hydrangea bush on it. The end zone is a rose garden.

I’m tired… I just want to walk up the front stoop and up the stairs. Climb into my bed and take a nap until breakfast is ready.

Not going to happen….

…I often try to remember the last time I threw the ball against the front stoop. I didn’t know at the time that this is it, this is the last inning of my illustrious front stoop baseball career. I’m thirteen, fourteen years old and I’m never going to throw a ball against the front steps ever again.

If I do anything in 2023, I’m going to find a wall somewhere and pitch a couple innings for the 1977 White Sox.

Do they still make hard rubber baseballs?

I’ll probably end up on Tiktok, “oLd fAt dAd dOIng HiS yOUth!”

“Hey kid put down the fucking phone! I need a right fielder!”

Anyway, it’s Tuesday morning and it looks so good. I’m already in a daydream.

In a daydream on the front stoop at 220 South Lombard.

2022

The times we are living in have placed more weight upon our shoulders. Stress has been growing heavier the last few years.

If the stress is caused by your own doing…. Correct it.

If the stress is caused by something that you can’t control…. Two tears in the bucket, Mother F*** it!

Climb the mountains in your life and turn a challenge into an accomplishment…

Easier said than done?

Hell yes it is!

We are sliding into the end of January…. It’s January, it’s supposed to be cold and snowy!

This too shall pass….

…just like the problems that you are carrying right now!

Don Shepley always said, “the things we worry about

Today we will laugh about in six weeks!”

Using hindsight the oldman was spot on.

Maybe not six weeks, maybe not six months…. But when you put the mountain down and jump over it…. Well … it sure feels better!

I’d love to see Cincinnati versus San Francisco! Forty years ago these two teams met in Superbowl XVI.

Forty years ago? Seems like yesterday and all the mountains I was carrying in 1982 are now part of my foundation.

2021

A wintry January Sunday!!! The days are getting longer... I hope your football team wins today!

It’s going to be a nice day to prep for a week of challenge!

Sunday is the day to work on building your FOUNDATION with FAITH and FAMILY and FRIENDS!

2020

Short weeks are always tough! Enjoy your winter tonight and tomorrow! Your beer will be getting warm under the sun before you know it!

2019

Happy Thursday....

2018

Humpday!

January 24th, 2024

 Last night George and I were driving between the Jewish cemeteries in Forest Park. The fog was starting to get thick just after sunset and George said it made him feel eerie.

So I did what Don Shepley did whenever he was driving on DesPlaines through the Jewish cemeteries… I started to sing songs from “Fiddler on the Roof.”

A line from “Tradition,” a line from “If I were a Rich Man,” “Anatevka” and the grand finale of….

….. “To life, to life, l'chaim.

L'chaim, l'chaim, to life.

Life has a way of confusing us,

Blessing and bruising us.

Drink, l'chaim, to life!”

I suddenly felt a chill through my body as we approached Cermak Avenue.

I thought, maybe it was my Oldman telling me he approved of passing the tradition down to George.

Or maybe….

It was a Jewish grandmother that enjoyed my singing?

I had this giddy feeling for the rest of the ride back to Riverside. I realized I don’t sing as much as I should. Covid, Wokeness, MeToo and George Floyd have all stifled my Political incorrectness!

When we were on the trading floor we quoted from “Blazing Saddles.” We acted like Don Rickles, Archie Bunker, Fred Sanford and George Jefferson.

America doesn’t make fun of each other anymore. We’ve gotten too sensitive and our feelings are easily hurt.

Yesterday someone posted on the Riverside Facebook page, “how are the roads this morning?”

I made a comment that they have this thing on television called the news. The news consistently gives a report on the weather.

Oh My God!

The husband of the lady who made the post and another dweeb got all bent out of shape and called me rude.

I just got started when suddenly the post disappeared. I was going to turn that useless post into a trading pit. Unfortunately the softies realized it was a stupid post and abandoned me…. I was blocked!

I’m getting to that age where I can be Achie or George and people will just roll their eyes and nervously laugh.

I’m not an apologetic guy…. I’m going to turn this life up to eleven and if the Sheriff is near… I’ll let you know! I’m going to let that dame blow on my dice and if Lyle wants to hear “The Camp Town Ladies,” I’m going to sing it for him!

Shit Chalkheads…. We’ve been stuck with Bush, Obama, Trump and Biden this century. This isn’t a tragedy, this is a comedy and it’s time to sing, dance and make fun of each other!

One of you better make fun of my big booty or my little soul patch today or this rant will go to waste!

Smash a pitcher and fill a pitcher with beer for Saint Paul…. It’s Paul Pitcher Day and in Chicagoland the temperature will be near forty… shorts and t-shirts to the office.

....And also be kind to Edith and Louise if you see them!

January 23rd, 2024

 I looked out the front window just before I climbed in bed. I saw a person walking across the lawns. Right away I realized the sidewalks were already iced over by the freezing rain.

The cautious gate in every step caught my attention. Finally the walk came to where the snow ended and the slippery sidewalk began. Gently placing the first foot on the ice and then the second and the third was helped by a tree trunk for a crutch.

The careful walk almost reached the destination when down to the ground went my neighbor. She picked herself up gingerly with the aid of a car bumper and got inside of the car.

The car drove away slowly and thoughts of the morning commute immediately filled my brain with anxiety and fear.

I’m going to have to walk about eighty yards up the block to Betty’s parking spot. Then chip off a layer of ice before the drive out to work.

The younger version of me would have loved the icy challenge. Donuts and spinouts would be fun to attempt. I thought about how perfect the pavement was for skitching.

Then the older version of me. The one that I crawled into bed with last night was worried. Will the streets be salted? Will Betty’s new Uggs hold their grip? Will I have the streets to myself at 5:00 in the morning?

I’m going to take a part of the adventurous John Shepley and mix it with the cautious John Shepley and slide to work slowly.

My dreams were filled with Betty and ditches…. Spinouts and light poles…. Red lights and locked brakes.

Thus today’s quote….

I have to walk out the front door this morning with the vigor of my youth and not the old fart that I’ve started to become.

Take your time Chalkheads!

It’s going to be a slippery ride this morning.

January 22nd, 2024

 Anytime a jagoff speeds past me on the road, I hear my Oldman’s voice.

“I’m not a rat and this isn’t a race.”

Or the other phrase was…

“Look at this CS! He’s in a hurry to his horrible life!”

My Dad was a Cadillac man, specifically the Fleetwood Brougham. He was never in a hurry…. Not because he drove a boat around Chicagoland, but because he consistently left early. Don Shepley was always six minutes early for any engagement on the calendar.

Mass, Bar mitzvahs, funerals, work, cocktail parties…. He would be there six minutes early.

I like today’s quote.

Life is full of continuous fifty yard sprints. If given the choice to pick sprints or laps. Always pick sprints.

Today is Hot Sauce Day. Like most of us, my first hot sauce was Tabasco. I put that shit on everything and then my love affair for heat switched to Louisiana Hot Sauce.

Then came the hot sauce craze in the ‘90’s when everyone and their mother made hot sauce. We had a restaurant just outside of the Loop called Heaven on Seven. It was located on the seventh floor of the Garland Building. They had a wall of hot sauce…. Hundreds of them…. and I tried a large portion of them.

But I never strayed far from my Louisiana hot sauce. I don’t put that shit on as much as I did during my younger years. Let’s not get into that this morning.

Oh Baby…. I could really go for the corn beef hash with eggs over easy, smothered in Louisiana hot sauce. The best in the city is at Ceres Cafe in the lobby of the Chicago Board of Trade.

At the beginning of today’s blog I mentioned someone with the initials “CS.” That would be someone who puts a penis in their mouth. It was one thing to be a jagoff, but if the Oldman pulled out the nukes, it would be that one.

….and when he used that one, it sounded poetic…. Imagine Orson Wells.

It’s Monday, it’s the last full week of January and you’re thinking about hot sauce on your egg mac muffin!

Take it easy with the pour. Today’s a sprint and you don’t want to be tight cheeking it to the crapper!

January 21st, 2024

 Just over a week ago we entered the first deep freeze of this winter. We started looking ahead on the 14 day forecast only to see that this Arctic blast will last ten days.

Here we are on the tail end of below freezing temperatures and almost the end of January. Mardi Gras is a couple weeks away and before we know it, we will be freezing our tushes at the Saint Patrick’s Day parade.

We have to experience the brutally cold days to appreciate the warmth of summer.

I read an article yesterday about the cicadas coming this summer. The Midwest, where most of you Chalkheads live, will encounter the perfect storm with these loud and obnoxious insects.

Our area has a smaller 13 year cycle and the more obnoxious 17 year cycle. This year the two meet, something that hasn’t happened since 1806. This won’t happen again in Chicagoland until the 2250’s.

Maybe we should enjoy the snow crusted sidewalks and the bitter breeze on our cheeks?

This summer we will have our facebook friends that take pictures of their car thermometers when it’s 100 degrees. Now we will also have to see the posts with the bitching and moaning about cicadas.

It’s always something!

Sunday Funday and everyone seems to be a Lions fan today. Enjoy the game, maybe a bowl of chili and the warmer temperatures next week brings!

Tits up to you hardened bastards that are just ten days away from the end of dry January. Enjoy that first Mardi Gras hurricane…

January 20th, 2024

 I’m not sure I like the word “change” in this quote. I’d like to take it out and use “grow.”

“By growing nothing, nothing grows.”

That doesn’t have the same effect or impact.

I don’t like change. When you hear people say, “oh, Clyde has changed a lot lately!”

That’s usually not a good thing. Clyde is probably going through a shitshow that is out of his control.

This is one I’ve heard a few times in my life…..

….”I need you to change!”

You need me to change? How about you go fuck yourself.

We don’t need to change. We need to grow. Grow with the flow that life brings at the age of experience.

Life brings us experiences that help us grow. When I learned to talk, I didn’t become Shakespeare or Churchill. When I learned cursive I didn’t immediately have a gorgeous John Hancock signature. When I lost my virginity, I didn’t immediately become Casanova. When I walked onto the trading floor, I didn’t suddenly become Gordon Gekko. When I became a daddy, I didn’t become Ward Cleaver or Mike Brady. I grew into a better John Shepley with every role that I played.

I have about twenty five summers left with you guys. I wouldn’t change a thing, but I do want to grow into the sunset years and experience getting older with gusto.

Don’t change…. Just continue to grow and adapt and take the punches life swings at you.

Like Billy said many years ago, “don’t go changing, to try and please me…………”

Grow older and do the things that please you. Please You!

I’m rambling on here….

Let’s talk about submarine sandwiches. We all have our favorite sub that we’ve grown up with.

In our neighborhood we don’t consider Jimmy John’s or Jersey Mikes or even Subway as a real sandwich. Those are factory ordered with plastic meat on styrofoam bread.

Every side of the city has their neighborhood joint. I have about five or six that I go to. My top three are listed in the grabber section on today’s chalkboard.

Keep it simple, keep it fresh and don’t “change” a damn thing.

I put the sun up on The Morning Chalkboard today. It’s going to be colder than penguin snot out there, but at least the vitamin D will hit your face.

Don’t change a thing, go be you today!

January 19th, 2024

 Can someone please call Robert Smith and let him know it’s Friday and ask him if he is still in love?

The roads have an overnight dusting of fluffy snow. Betty the Green Blazer sure does love her new Uggs.

Let’s get through today and enjoy the frigid January weekend. It’s already the nineteenth, so we are sliding towards February quickly. Well, some of us are…. The dry January people are in the midst of their living hell.

We only have to put up with this crappy NFL product for a little longer. Six Nations Rugby starts two weeks from today, Ireland versus France.

Try and put the smile on the sun today and keep both hands on the wheel for the morning commute.

January 18th, 2024

 The origin of the Chalkboard was actually the Shepkid’s mom’s idea. She wanted to have something to help us organize the schedule as the kids started school. So she hung a blackboard up in the dining room.

I only brought it over to Riverside to give the Shepkids something familiar at their dad’s new home.

George sees it all the time because it’s on his path to the refrigerator every morning. Now that the redheads both have phones, I often text them a picture of just the Chalkboard, not the blog.

Today’s quote is for my middle child. The glue of the Shepkids, Frederick Joseph. Someday he and his siblings will come across the blog, but for today, this quote is for him.

He is going through a tough period right now. He’s a freshman in high school with zits and pubic hairs. He hasn’t found his voice, his balance or his direction just yet.

Throw in being a middle kid in a divorced family and life gets tough. His little sister is the spoiled princess and his older brother is on the autistic spectrum. He’s left there to keep things glued together.

Fritz and Hazel have a strong bond and he is very protective of her. Though she could probably kick his butt right now.

Yesterday when the redheads were in Riverside I had to be tough dad and I don’t like being tough dad.

I touched on this earlier in the week when Betty needed a new battery.

This too shall pass!

Pimples go away and Fritz will eventually learn to manscape. He will finally organize his life and turn out to be a good person.

Until that time he has my Doc Martin firmly up his rear side. Just like I had my Oldman’s Red Wing work boot up my rear side for most of the 1970’s into the 80’s and occasionally in the 90’s.

I sure as hell hope I don’t have to rip Fritz a new asshole in the ‘30’s and ‘40’s! I’ll be too old for that crap.

I asked him last night if he wanted to come East of Mannheim and live with George and Asshole Dad. He said he can’t leave Hazel alone West of Mannheim.

That’s when I had to quickly see what was burning in the oven that wasn’t on. I really had to go to the kitchen and wipe the proud tears welling up in my eyes.

The adventures of a single divorced dad rage on….

Today for some reason is National Winnie the Pooh Day. Did you know Winnie and his friends all represent social disorders? I never knew this was a thing. I’m sure this concept was hatched in the last twenty five years.

My generation didn’t have labeles for kids. Well we did…. Kids were either retarded or they were shy or they were troublemakers. I was in the last category.

Back to Winnie and his connection to social disorders.

Here is the list:

Pooh – OCD and eating disorder

Piglet – Generalized Anxiety Disorder

Rabbit – Narcissism

Eyeore – Dysthymic Disorder (depression)

Owl – Dyslexia

Tigger – ADHD

Kanga – Social Anxiety Disorder

Roo – Autism

Fortunately for me, when I was a kid I only saw an English kid climb through a tree in his closet. There he found the comfort of his imagination. That was where The Hundred Acre Woods was located.

It was the comfort of my imagination that helped me grow from being a toddler to a troublemaker.

I’m worried my son Fritz never developed an imagination. He had iPads and phone apps do the imaging for him. This whole generation has had that same crutch.

Now Winnie the Pooh, Eyeore and half the freshman at LT take Adderall.

It’s already Thursday… get yourself a jar of honey and go put the smile on the sun!