April 28th, 2024

 Early morning thunderstorms rolled into the western suburbs just after three o’clock. The front curtain of the pre dawn tempest brought loud booming thunder that rang for several seconds.

The gust rose the shades as lightning lit up the window panes. Between the rumbling claps came a faint voice.

“Dad?……… Dad?………

From the couch in the living room, “Yes Hazel….”

“Dad…. I don’t like the thunder. Can you come here please?”

I grabbed my pillow and walked down the hallway to my bedroom. Sitting up in bed was the daughter who recently marked her father as uncool.

I laid down in bed and an arm immediately clung to me. Reassuring all of the advice that I’ve received during this era of fatherhood.

Daughters will always need their daddy.

I closed my eyes and listened to the rain tapping all around. The thunder was well over Lake Michigan and the calmness of the storm had settled in.

The birds added their early repertoire to the dripping rain falling upon the gutters. A freight train rolling across the BNSF brought another easing sound to the drizzle and chirping.

I gently slipped out from the relaxed arm and looked out the bedroom window. The sound of Hazel gently breathing gave added calmness to the Sunday morning storms.

The early daylight is just beginning to creep into the neighborhood. Trees that had tight buds yesterday have exploded overnight with freshness. The newly formed greenery brought to life by the thunderstorm that scared my baby girl.

Through every preteen tantrum I face this summer, I will walk to the window and stare at the leaves formed by the last April showers.

Sometimes the rain brings inconvenience and sometimes it brings assurance. This morning it strengthened the demanding bonds between a daddy and his maturing daughter.

Today is National Pay it Forward Day. Unless you are a Jagoff, everyday is a day to pay forward. I’ve learned that I don’t have to search for a pay it forward situation. It usually falls into my lap at a time when faith is faltering.

Or

When I just need another lesson in humility.

Today is a good day to walk down the river and enjoy the rushing waters strengthened by the thunderstorms. Maybe enjoy a cloudy day at the zoo.

I’m into the last week of this year’s “Sixty Days of Celebrating Cecilia” and May begins on Wednesday.

Today is the perfect day to watch shit do stuff and get prepared for the summer.

Happy Sunday Funday my beautiful Chalkheads…..

April 27th, 2024

   I was sitting in the living room at my grandparents house in Indianapolis. My Gramma, my Ma and all the old ladies in my family were sitting at the dining room table. Some of those old ladies were nun’s.

Nuns were everywhere in my youth. They were at school and they were at my Gramma’s. I couldn’t get away from nuns. These nuns at my Gramma’s were my great aunts.

The conversation was centered on Barbie’s new boyfriend, Chris.

“He works with those computer deal things which I’m not sure what they do exactly.”

Barb and Chris met at the apartment complex that they lived at in the early 1970’s, The Jade North. Barb was my mom’s baby sister and we always did fun stuff together.

Though Aunt B did lose me one time at the Indianapolis Zoo when I was four. I was safe and sound with the elephants when they finally found me.

Barb and Chris were the complete opposite of my mom and dad. They laughed, they talked and they held hands. They took me to the pool at Jade North. They took me to Farrell’s ice cream parlor and they took me to play tennis.

Chris made me my first cocktail before I had my first communion. He got me hooked with his famous Shirley Temple. He used the finest 7up and most syrupy grenadine known to man. He always had a sword for the cherries. This guy had his own swords…. Winning!

Chris McEvoy was still earning approval from Gramma and all of my great aunties… but he was already a rock star in my book and well prepared to become my uncle.

Then the day came and my parents stuck me in the back of the station wagon and we drove down I-65.

I’ve talked before about my dislike for church pants. Those polyester trousers from the ‘70’s with the little belt sewn in and the tiny metal clasp. My hip hop thighs rubbing together in itchy plastic material did not make for a comfortable fit.

But I put them on and we went to Christ the King for the marriage of Barbara Zoellner and Christopher McEvoy.

Aunt B and Uncle Chris became a solid fixture in my life on this day fifty years ago. Sure they made it through fifty years of marriage, but for me… they have been a consistent example of how a husband and wife should be.

Soon after their marriage, my parents divorced and Barb and Chris were there for my Ma and her loud mouth son with the Chicago accent.

The only time Chris got pissed at me was when I would drop a “deaze” and “doze” in front of him.

Most of the family that attended the wedding fifty years ago are in heaven. I’m one of the last remaining witnesses to those long lasting vows.

Barb and Chris are going to renew their marriage today. The wedding is at the retirement home where Cool Hand Chris is living these days.

The one consistent thing in my life has been my Aunt Barb and Uncle Chris. Happy Anniversary you two love birds.

If any of my Hoosier friends want to crash the ceremony…

…it is at the Wellbrooks of Carmel Health Center at 13315 N Pennsylvania Street in Carmel Indiana. It starts at 2pm with the last Shirley Temple being served at 4pm.

Tell them their crazy nephew sent ya!

Back in Chicagoland we have the annual Spring Fling going on in Riverside. Out in Lemont, the Chicago Blaze take the pitch against The Southside Irish.

The last Saturday of April will be perfect for a wedding, a garage band and a rugby match.

Go be astonished and know that love will keep us together.

April 26th, 2024

 The last weekend of April is upon us… make it count!

The new era of disappointment has begun for Chicago Bear fans. If you can say you watched Bob Avellini, then you know what we are in for again.

The repeat button cracked off and we keep hearing an Air Supply song over and over and over and over.

Go attack Friday and always be true to your school. Let your colors fly!

April 25th, 2024

April 24th, 2024

 It is National Bucket List Day. There are several things that I would like to cross off my list, but at this point I’ll just be realistic.

I’d love to visit Scotland or France. Go on a safari in Africa or Australia. Maybe eat some crazy cuisine in the Orient. Get naked in a hot tub with some NFL cheerleaders in Vegas. Oh wait…. I’ve done that!

My bucket list is, and you’ve heard these end plays before… get the Shepkids to adulthood and end up in a condo on Edgewater Beach or a cabin on a hill by a creek in southern Indiana. Those are my buckets in the grand prize game of life.

A cold front came off the lakefront overnight. The sun will be smiling, but the wind will have a bite on this last Wednesday of April.

If today is the last Wednesday of April, that means we are sliding into the last weekend of April.

That also means these mother fucking cicadas are about to invade our yards. Let’s blame our dysfunctional government for this mess.

Alright…. Let’s get it on Chalkheads!

Go out and spread small acts of kindness and try to be astonished.

April 23rd, 2024

 I woke up thinking about all of the times my parents yelled at me. All the times that I let them down and disappointed them.

…And then I realized, what does it matter?

They are dead and can’t remember all of the stupid shit that I did when I was a kid.

All of our memories and dreams die with us. Just like the money we’ve earned throughout our lifetime… we can’t take it to heaven.

I have a voice message that my dad left me Christmas morning of 2016. He wished me and my family a Merry Christmas. He told me that he loved me and that he was proud of me.

Every once in awhile I listen to my dad’s voice and go back to that Christmas morning. That was the first Christmas without my mom and the last Christmas that I woke up next to my wife. George Michael died later that day and my dad was proud of me.

With all of that going on… Santa Claus still showed up.

Maybe this quote should say, “The goal is to die with more memories and less dreams?”

…and here we are again on a Tuesday morning. Things never looked so good and I’m already in a daydream.

I’m glad I looked at the almost full moon yesterday morning. The clouds are covering it this morning at its peak. Luckily I see those clouds as rows and flows of angel hair. Thinking that makes it a little more acceptable to miss the Pink Moon of April. None of us stand so tall when the pink moon is on its way.

Go be astonished!

These Speakers

I was sitting here listening to music on my AAL speakers that I bought at MusiCraft on North Avenue in 1990.

These speakers have played the soundtrack to my life for thirty four years.

My memory tells me the first CD played through their diaphragm was “Sticky Fingers” or possibly some English Beat. They’ve played all eras of jazz and blues. Gospel, country, punk, classical and even Gregorian chant.

I was in love with a girl who is still my friend. She went with me to buy these speakers on a sunny Saturday morning. I let her play her Melissa Ethridge and Randy Travis and we both listened to John Hiatt.

The same receiver is still connected and that same girl gave me her dad’s turntable when he passed away.

I sat here and drank tea, listened to music and thought about where my speakers will be in thirty-four years. Who will my daughter give them to? Will a stranger be drinking from my tea set?

I won’t be around in 2058 to listen to ninety year old Rolling Stone songs. Does 2058 seem like a long time from now? It’s the same amount of time that 1990 is and that seems like yesterday. Which means that the end of the 2050’s is tomorrow.

I could tell you that is the helmet that Bobby Brady wore when Joe Namath was on “The Brady Bunch,” but it is not. It’s a Christmas present for a buddy of mine, but he’s always out of town on Christmas. So, I haven’t given it to him yet.

Those speakers have moved with me from bachelorhood, through a marriage and into a divorce.

Love songs have been love songs and not love songs anymore. Sad songs have been sad songs and not so sad today.

Those speakers were first wired during the age of CD’s and now only play vinyl records. The whole time they’ve tuned into WXRT, WDCB and WFMT. They dialed into classic rock on 97.9FM, Mr. A’s rhythm and blues after midnight on WNIB and Dick Buckley’s swing jazz on WBEZ. The Loop plays Christian music now and those two old DJs went off the air and into Heaven’s wave lengths.

The day will come when I hear my last song on these speakers. Maybe I’ll be listening to these speakers during my last breath?

My imagination wants me to think it will be Gershwin, Tchaikovsky, Dvorak, Miles or Muddy. Maybe my grandchildren will be playing some crap that needs to be turned down?

I lived at my parent's house the first few months I owned these speakers. My Oldman yelled at me to turn down the fucking god forsaken crap that I was listening to.

It was a new Van Halen CD that I just bought.

When I set these speakers to eleven, the whole neighborhood can hear them. Tonight, I had them at two and George came out of his room and told me to turn down that old geezer stuff.

I’m stuck in a thirty four year old time warp… drinking Earl Grey wondering if I should go to bed because it’s already nine thirty.

I’m stuck in a thirty four year old time warp thinking how all this shit happened so quickly.

Maybe the most appropriate song to play last in a lifetime will find me behind the wheel of a big car? Maybe I’ll be in a nice home with my gorgeous spouse…

…and I can ask myself, “well…. How did I get here?”

…and you ask yourself, “does he really own a tea set?”

April 22nd, 2024

 The last full week of April is upon us and the full moon will be in the sky as well.

Today is Passover and it’s a little late this year due to that full moon. I was hoping the late Seder might have allowed more time for missing family members to return home. Unfortunately that hasn’t happened.

It should be a pleasant day in the metropolitan Chicagoland area. I put clean sheets on the bed last night. So my step has a spring attached to it today.

Be patient this week and don’t let the spring time itch throw you off course.

It is also Earth Day… take the time to marvel in its beauty. Put some love on it and be astonished.

April 21st, 2024

 I drove over to the other side of Mannheim road to take Fritz for a haircut. I still take him to PopPop’s barber to keep the tradition alive.

Afterwards, I brought my middle child over to Honey Fluff Donuts for his favorite, a vanilla long john.

We walked in and I heard a “Hey Shep!” To my surprise I saw a dear friend sitting at the counter with his fiancée. We gave each other a huge hug and talked for several minutes.

We reminisced about the trading floor and the characters we encountered. We talked about getting older and we vowed to meet soon for a beer.

When Fritz and I left I told him that God wanted us to get a long john so I could see my friend.

Grampa Don always said a good friend is someone that you haven’t seen in a longtime, but when you do it’s like you were together yesterday. Good friendship should never skip a beat.

Fritz ended up hanging out with his Oldman for the rest of the day. We did what me and my Oldman always did….

…we went for a Saturday drive.

We drove up to Forest Park to get a hotdog at Parky's Hot Dog's. After that we drove along the brick road that runs behind Shanahan's. My dad always took that street after our Saturday lunch at Shanny's. The bricks tapping against the tires made him reminisce about his childhood.

Fritz and I took that same street yesterday and I reminisced about Saturday jaunts with Grampa Don. We even listened to the same Irish program, the swing time jazz show and old time radio show that my dad and I listened to in the last century.

We drove down my old block and stopped in front of the house. The tree my dad planted in the front yard in 1984 is sixty feet tall.

We took the alley and I told Fritz about hide and seek, kick the can and ghost in the graveyard. I showed him the garage where I felt boobies my freshman year of high school.

“Come on dad! I’m not into that stuff yet…….”

“Soon Fritz…. Soon, and if a girl lets you touch her boobs… you walk her home and make her feel like she made the right decision. Make her feel awesome!”

Later that day we went to get George at PopPop and JoJo’s. We ended up getting pizza and JoJo got to hangout with two of her grandsons.

That was my Saturday journey.

I ran into an old friend out of the blue. I drove through my old neighborhood to check up on my parent’s house and Fritz learned about friendship and getting to second base.

Fritz ended up spending the night. When I was tucking him in he told me that he loves me and I gave him my common reply, “All of my heart son, all of my heart.”

Then I went to close his bedroom door, but stuck my head back in…

…. “Hey Fritz!”

“Yeah Dad?”

“First time you touch boob… caress it softly and listen for a sigh…. Oh and… try not to think about me!”

“Come on dad!!!”

Look at that big sun smiling on the Morning Chalkboard. This week brings Passover and the Full Moon. The Cubs are chipping away at a solid start… while the Sox continue to wallow in the mud. Tough times for our Pale Hose.

I hope many of you enjoyed a dreary Saturday with my crock pot and box springs idea.

Go get some fresh air today and be astonished…

…and the girl from the garage on Lombard Avenue. She is someone’s Gramma now.

Life goes by quickly, grab it or caress it while you can!

April 20th, 2024

 Last night I woke up at 12:34am, so I made a wish and went back to sleep. I woke up again at 1:23am, I smiled and thought "WTF" and went back to sleep. My mom woke me up with her Angel Number at 2:22am. Then I woke up again at 3:33am, the time my alarm usually goes off during the week.

I woke up at 4:11am and decided that the Dream Police were fucking with me all night long and it's time to start Saturday and figure out the Morning Chalkboard.

I checked my notifications and noticed one post had unusual visits. It wasn't the post with Betty the Green Blazer on top of the garage or the post with the tub of Old Style.

It was the post with the sign from McNally's Irish bar on the Southside. They often put something on the marquee that is politically timed to the current news around Chicagoland.

Recently they said, "How bout this if pulled over by CPD comply."

What caught me off guard was how a friend of mine who is retired from law enforcement and a friend of mine who is black became involved. They made their statements and moved along. No argument, no ranting, no trying to change each other’s opinions.

I ended up writing a story on that post and thought it would be perfect to carry on to The Morning Chalkboard.

Years ago, my father and I were driving on Lake Street around Central Avenue in Austin. We were hit from behind by a black man who didn’t see my dad at the stop light.

I learned another Don Shepley lesson that Saturday afternoon.

My father and the gentleman both got out of the car, inspected the damage and had a conversation in front of my dad’s Cadillac.

My dad didn’t call the police, didn’t even take down the man’s information. They talked for several minutes, shuffled around, sat on the hood.... they laughed, they got serious, they laughed, they walked over to the curb and then.....

....My dad did his patented comforting left hand on the man's right shoulder, right hand firmly gripped on the guy’s left tricep, followed by his everything is going to be alright speech.

When my dad got in the car I asked him what happened. Why he didn’t call CPD, why did he drive away with a dent?

“Son…. Things aren’t fair in life. That poor son of a bitch ran into a Cadillac with two white men from Oak Park in it. He was fucked! He gets up every morning in a harder world than you and I live in. If I could make his life a little easier, that’s what I’ll do Moose!”

The next weekend my dad and I drove up to North Austin and picked up Randy and took him to Gossage with us. A couple weeks later we picked him up again and took him to Bishop’s Chili at 18th and Damen.

Randy was the guy that ran into my dad. They became friends and Randy ended up working in a railroad shop that my Oldman inspected.

My dad had a strong judge of character and a good heart. I hope I can pass that down to the Shepkids.

Give people a chance. Listen to them... Think about walking in their shoes. If you are in a position to be kind, DO IT!

Last Sunday it was Eighty-two degrees and today won't get over fifty! Might be a good day to get the chores and errands done while the sun is shining. Go home and put some taste in the crock pot and some love on the box springs....

..... and if you are in a position to be kind, DO IT!

April 19th, 2024

 I’m on day 44 of my “Sixty Days of Celebrating Cecilia.” I’m not missing the meat, the booze, the orgasms or the sweets as much as a slice of pizza or a hot dog.

In 16 days I’ll be able to have a glass of bourbon and a pork chop. My life will go back to whatever normalcy it has.

Unfortunately it’s been 196 days since the brutal attack on Israel. 196 days since families were murdered in the name of allah. I’ve been focused on one Jewish kid by the name of Hersh.

Hersh’s mom has been saying Psalm 150 everyday and will do so until Hersh returns to her arms. I added Psalm 150 to my morning ritual.

I’m going to continue reading the last Psalm after May 6th and until Hersh returns back to his mom. I got a feeling I’ll be saying this prayer on the last day I breathe.

Maybe Hersh will meet me when Saint Peter approves my visa. Then we can say it together.

Hersh was at that Supernova music festival when he lost his freedom. He was doing something fun that he enjoyed, surrounded with love. You’ve heard me say that I plan on dying on Thanksgiving Day sometime in the 2050’s. Doing something fun that I enjoy, surrounded with love.

My life is nothing special right now. I go to work, I eat lettuce, I do my chores, I eat tuna fish, I go to sleep, I go to work, I eat oatmeal, I do my chores, I eat chick peas, I go to sleep.

However, it’s the little things that add up that makes life wonderful.

Give your self thirty minutes a day. Fill it with whatever makes you feel wonderful. Stop what your doing and drink water, breath deeply and compliment yourself on being a great fucking YOU….

It’s Friday and I put a big smile on the sun today. Go be astonished and don’t forget your thirty minutes.

April 18th, 2024

        It’s already Thursday…. Give em hell!

April 17th, 2024

 Think about all the great things that people have accomplished that has gone unnoticed. The world is loaded with Eleanor Rigby's and Crash Davis's.

Crash Davis hit 247 minor league home runs, which was a record at the time when he retired in the late 1980's. Who cares about minor league home runs? Hitting that many home runs means you spent most of your career without ever making it to the majors.

Most boys stop playing organized baseball by their fourteenth birthday. Most men stop playing organized baseball by their nineteenth birthday. 247 homeruns in any professional league is a big deal, but Crash didn't get any recognition for his achievements.

I had a Grampa that baked a cake for President Eisenhower. That was a big deal for my family, but the world didn't give two shits. My Mom worked on a team that published a book found in every pew in every Catholic church. She also was part of an investigative unit that won an Emmy. She will only be remembered for doing the grunt work. My Oldman traveled to Ukraine in the early 1990's after the fall of the Soviet Union. He was one of two dozen railroad officials sent to rebuild the Ukrainian railroad infrastructure. It sure as hell made me proud of my dad, but it didn't make much more than a pimple on the ass of Ukrainian history.

To all those moms that made countless trays of cupcakes, washed dirty uniforms, hemmed skirts at the last minute and missed work to care for a 101 degree fever. To all the dads that coached t-ball and soccer teams, got up early and drove to Bumfuck, Egypt for a hockey tournament, who reluctantly paid for drumming lessons and missed an important conference call to watch a little league game in the rain.....

.... You'll go unnoticed just like Crash's 247 home runs, but you are fucking heroes.

Most of us Chalkheads will end up hitting 247 home runs before we die and it will go unnoticed....

...until your memories are brought up at future family get togethers.

Keep aiming for the fences and continue to be astonished.

April 16th, 2024

 The Morning Chalkboard is coming to you early thanks to a drunk text at 2:17 that I didn’t answer. I decided to roll over and wait until 2:22am and say hello to my mom. 222 is her angel number.

Now I’m awake and Tuesday, April 16th has officially started.

If you’re a Cancer, here is your horoscope: You're in a very strong position today. This means that bosses from your past or authority figures you haven't seen for a while (including parents) might help you, especially in financial matters. You might see ways to boost your earnings or get a better-paying job.

I’m not sure my bosses from the past or my parents are going to help me. I sure could use a boost in earnings….. Especially after Tax Day!

Inalienable is the word of the day, It is an adjective. The definition; unable to be taken away from or given away by the possessor.

The Cubs won on Monday and the Sox lost. Caitlin Clark was drafted by the Indiana Pacerettes and the Chicago Lady Bulls drafted Angel Reece from LSU.

After several days of sunshine, Chicagoland will have a day marked with occasional thunderstorms.

Orion, Gemini and Taurus, the winter stars are visible in the west. They will soon be gone from the sky, so catch them between sunset and bedtime before they leave. Jupiter is also bright this week and there is supposed to be a comet flying around as well.

Protesters blocked the road leading into O’Hare airport on Monday. Nine people were murdered over the weekend in Chicago, but a group of dildos are protesting Israel. Who are trying to rescue innocent hostages brutally taken from their homes on the other side of the world. Nowhere close to the south or west sides of Chicago.

I think that pretty much catches all of you Chalkheads up and prepares you for your Tuesday.

Bring an umbrella with you today and find a chance to daydream as well, it is Tuesday…

…And get yourself some eggs benny for breakfast.

April 15th, 2024

 Let’s put together some good days for ourselves during what has been a truculent decade so far. Living for today and finding joy today will enable us to look back at a lifetime of happiness.

Yesterday I had a great day with the redheads at the baseball game. I won’t remember that the Sox got throttled by the Reds. I will remember having a salad and an ice tea rather than a Polish sausage slathered with mustard and grilled onions followed by a cold pilsner.

Stringing together days like yesterday will give me a wonderful life to look back at.

Who gives a shit that it’s Monday! I put a seventy handle and a sun with a smile up on the top of the Chalkboard.

Do what you have to do and make today an instant memory to cherish when it becomes a distant memory.

… and be astonished!

April 14th, 2024

   The other day when the lottery was a billion dollars, a guy at work asked the trading floor where everyone would move, if they won.

It was a great question that left everyone scratching their heads. I knew my answer right away… nowhere.

I’d stay in Chicagoland!

Why do I have to move somewhere unfamiliar if I won a billion dollars?

I know the people, I know their accents, I know their moods.

I love pizza, hotdogs, beef sandwiches, breaded steak sandwiches, Maxwell Street polish, gyros, pizza puffs, TomToms, Old Style, rainbow cones and paczki.

I love being close to the L train, the Ike and LSD. I do miss Sox Park, Soldier Field and the Stadium, Kiddieland, Gossage and Gennaros.

The main thing that keeps me from leaving Chicago are the shadows. I know where the angle of the sun falls everyday of the year on the Chicago grid.

I can always visit Paris and see how the Eiffel Tower casts a shadow. Same with the pyramids and the redwoods in California.

But nothing makes me feel like I’m home more than the sunset on the west facade of Sears Tower from the Western Suburbs.

…and that is why I’ll stay in Illinois when I become a billionaire. A Democrat’s wet dream.

I’m going to build a tall condominium building with store fronts on the first floor. In those store fronts will be a bakery, a flower shop, a diner, a hotdog joint, a cigar shop, a newspaper stand and a tavern on the corner with a Hamms sign over the door. All of my dear friends will have their own condo for the rest of their lives.

I’m going to live up in the penthouse facing Chicago, so I can look at the Sears Tower at Sunset. All the normal people will be on the other side of the building watching the sun settle over the suburbs.

Not me…. The Chicago skyline at sunrise and at sunset will always call me home.

Today is National Ex-Spouse Day. You are very lucky if today is just another day. For those of us that have an ex-spouse, today isn’t a triumphant day.

On this day, it is therapeutic to say something positive about your X.

My ex is very creative with crafts. She makes great steamed mussels and has a beautiful smile.

Don’t be fooled by that eighty handle for a high. The wind will be coming off the lake this afternoon and temperatures are predicted to fall quickly… did I say I love living in Chicagoland?

April is halfway over and the Sox are already mathematically eliminated from postseason. Taxes are due and I’m day 39 into the “Sixty Days of Cecilia.”

I think when May 7th rolls around I’m going to get a Ricobenes steak sandwich, an Oak Park Bakery coffee cake, a stirred gin martini and a hot mommy.

Go be astonished and enjoy the big smile on the sun!

April 13th, 2024

 I had to drive over to the other side of Mannheim Road around dinner time last night. Hazel was at a school dance party celebrating the completion of state testing.

Betty the Green Blazer and I were driving on a side road in a white middle-class town that I cross through between my home and the Shepkids Mom's home. It was there that I noticed something out of place.

I saw an older gentleman that could have been my uncle. He had a big bright Caucasian face wearing a plaid button down and khaki pants. He couldn't have been more of the perfect stereotype for the lesson that I was about to learn.

I was just picking up my daughter at school and getting a pizza. I was minding my own business listening to REM on Spotify. Then I see this old guy......

Here is an older gentleman that could have been an accountant, a retired ComEd guy or an old railroad guy that new my dad. He was kneeling on a small Persian rug facing the East with his arms folded across his chest.

Without hesitation my finger went to Betty's window button. The window was rolling down and I'm almost parallel with someone's Uncle Frank. My mind was quickly putting together something painful to yell. Suddenly sitting in Betty's passenger seat is my Oldman. He's wearing a plaid button down and khaki pants.

"You got to be shitting me Moose!"

anger pulsing across my father's face...

"That old fucker is praying.... HE'S PRAYING! Roll the god damn window up and pick up my fucking Granddaughter you stupid son of a bitch.....!"

Before I knew it the window was up as fast as it went down and my dad was back in heaven enjoying eternal love and peace. I was left there at the corner of Kenman and Lincoln pondering the mysteries of my faith.

What good would it have done to yell at an old guy saying his evening prayers? It would have done more harm, and I would have looked like an asshole. I'm trying to get through these last twenty-seven years of life without looking like an asshole.

Situations like this are the lessons, the mysteries that can either make us better or make us worse. Uncle Frank from Brookfield was saying his prayers when a guy in a green blazer was driving by.

I might have done the right thing yesterday, but I still have a feeling that my visa will be delayed when I'm standing at Heaven's Gate.

Saint Peter will be standing there with Jesus on the Heaven's Gate telephone.

"Hey JC... the Shepley kid is standing here. What do you want me to do?"

Peter turns his back to me and I can't hear the rest of their conversation. After several minutes the old Saint hangs up the phone and says to me, "The Boss wants to talk with you before I can let you in."

Standing on the other side of the fence is my Oldman. He is shaking his head at me...

"Hey Moose! All these years that I've been up here, I have never had to wait for my loved ones to get in! Great job son, really proud of you!"

Looks like sarcasm is alive and well in heaven?!?!

I gotta think my Ma has an in with Virgin Mary and I'll get out of all this red tape holding me up. If I wait a few minutes, my mom will show up with Jesus' Ma and I'll be able to start my eternal rest.

When I get done Chalking here, I'm going to say my daily prayers. They will center around the Parable of the Green Blazer driving to the middle school on a Friday evening. What will that Parable teach us?

Heaven might be one forgiveness away, but the less baggage you bring.... the easier it is to get in and also, don’t be a Jagoff in life.!

There you go Chalkheads. That is the latest adventure of a single divorced dad trying to make a living and raise good kids.

Next time I see Uncle Frank during his evening prayers, I'm going to roll Betty's window down and yell....

"Put in a good word for me Uncle Frank!"

The Lions are roaring from across the river and the coffee pot is percolating. I'm going to go say my morning prayers, drink my coffee and listen to my neighbor’s early morning arguments....

....and the birds too!

Today is going to be a beautiful day to put the smile on the sun.

Be astonished and don't be a jagoff!

April 12th, 2024

 Thank God it’s Friday… I just had an intense night of dreams. I hope they don’t come true or turn into Deja vu.

I’m going to jump into my routine and get Friday done with no major events. I might drive with my hazards all day long.

Give the world a great attitude today and try and be astonished.

April 11th, 2024

 I don’t have much to say this morning. Probably because I have a lot on my mind right now.

It is that time of the year where most people want or need to go on vacation.

I don’t need a vacation. I’ll get one when I die.

I’d like a day where I can wake up and turn on cartoons. Old cartoons with anvils falling on coyotes and characters kicking the shit out of each other.

I want three bowls of cereal. My go to concoction is half "Honeycombs" and half "Captain Crunch" peanut butter. The combination is a perfect match of flavor and texture.

I want to put my shoes on, grab my Sox cap, my baseball mitt and go round up seventeen guys for a few innings of baseball.

Maybe when we are riding our bikes to the ballpark we find some old “Penthouse” magazines in the alley. After the game we can look at the pictures in the dugout and talk about stupid stuff.

After we get bored with boobies we can ride over to White Hen and get a package of Matt’s chocolate chip cookies and a "KayO."

I can’t forget to check in with my mom and grab a quick sandwich and an "RC" back home. Hopefully she doesn’t have just "Diet Rite."

“No time to talk Ma… I’m going back to the park to play ‘Smear the Queer’ with the guys...

....Paul got a new ‘Duke’ for his birthday! Bye Ma!”

An afternoon filled with dusty dirt, patchy grass, gang tackles and fumbles. A bunch of ruffians riding bikes back to White Hen for pops, SlimJims and ice cream bars. Ripped tough skins, torn t-shirts, dirty faces and bleeding elbows standing in front of the cash register.

I gotta get home because my Ma is making beef stroganoff Hamburger Helper for dinner tonight and the Sox have a night game on channel 44 with Harry Caray and Jimmy Piersall.

That would be the perfect Thursday for me. No airport security and long trips to littered beaches. Just an afternoon hanging out in the neighborhood with the guys.

Unfortunately I’m going to end chalking and start the real Thursday. Make George’s lunch…. Shit, shower and shave…. Drive Betty into the suburbs… kick the shit out of the markets…. stop at the grocery... go home and make George dinner.... clean the kitchen then watch “Chicago PD.”

It’s going to rain today… you’ll need to make up your own daydream and put the smile on the sun yourself.

….any one have a quarter I can borrow for a “Whatchamacallit?”