I’m thinking about taking a retreat after Christmas. In a way I’ve already started planning.
After the first of the year, the only people that will see me will be a Shepley or a work colleague. I’m falling off the grid.
I’m going to do a Wintering Sabbatical. It seems I’ve already been doing it lately. I go to work and take care of my family. When I have a chance to be a Jumbo, I’m exhausted or just want to be alone.
That could work, but I’d have to take a week off in between and celebrate the Mardi Gras.
Fat Tuesday is March Fourth next year.
In 1985, being nineteen was a difficult age.
In 1995, being twenty-nine was a blur and I didn’t give two shits about turning thirty.
In 2005, being thirty-nine was a honeymoon and the last year before becoming a parent.
In 2015, being forty-nine was filled with a failing marriage, an ailing mother, a faltering career. Turning fifty was the least of my worries.
In 2025, I’m going into the year worried about being fifty-nine.
I’m happily divorced, I don’t have parents to worry about and my career is going well.
Butt….
I’m going into my last year in my fifties with a daughter in junior high school and a job that will start counting down towards retirement.
That would fall into the “tit in a ringer” category.
Many of you are familiar with the years that I pointed out. More of you are familiar with the ages that I pointed out…
…this is where I reiterate that we must not get old. We must only get older. We are all growing older together.
All of us! The Class of ‘44, the Class of ‘54, ‘64, ‘74, the great class of ‘84, ‘94, 2004, 2014 and even you babies in the class of 2024.
And every class sprinkled in between. We are growing older together.
I’m going to do my getting older in a Winter Sabbatical.
I can either have eleven minutes of retirement or eat gruel in a nursing home.
I would prefer the former.
Today’s Chalkboard has been therapeutic. I’m doing a Winter Sabbatical until it’s green, gold and purple time.
Today is Army/Navy… a game that has no All-Americans. It has no NIL money and it has no three hundred pound tackles.
It has soldiers and sailors committed to their country and not an NFL agent. It is the last bastion of purity in sports.
I’ve been to a Superbowl, a Stanley Cup, a World Series, an NBA Championship game, the Kentucky Derby, the Indianapolis 500 and an international rugby match.
I even saw Germany beat Bolivia in a World Cup game in 1994.
The last thing on my Sports Bucket list is The Army versus Navy football game.
Go Navy, Beat Army! Go Army, Beat Navy… Go America!
