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.)
