We go through many stages in life.
Childhood, high school, college, single life, marriage, parenthood, empty nesting or divorce and finally if we are lucky, fifteen minutes of retirement.
Along the way we get titles telling the world where we are in life.
Are you in a fraternity? How many kids do you have? What position do you hold at your company? How long have you been divorced?
As we go through these stages, we pick up the characteristics from each era.
I found a passion for chemistry in high school. I bought my first Smiths album in college. I started drinking scotch when I turned thirty. I got this dad bod after our fifth child was born. I started playing pickleball when the kids were all in college.
We do things in life. We pick up hobbies that we are passionate about. Movie and music genre that we like.
Some of us feel the force and some of us live long and prosper. Some of us know the different type of Jazz Miles played and Louis played and some people mistake Kenny G and David Sanborn for jazz musicians.
You have your talk radio friends, your country music friends and your sport fanatic friends.
Coffee drinkers, tea drinkers, wine drinkers, beer drinkers and a few that still drink cosmos.
None of the things mentioned in the above paragraphs define who we really are as a person.
I created Shep through my early years. I became Jumbo in the theatrical world of open outcry. The whole time I’ve been John, the hefty kid born at Cuneo and baptized at Saint Ita’s.
When we finally become comfortable with ourselves. When we figure out our balance and discover our voice. When we finally figure out our place in the world.
That’s when we can say we found the person that life created.
I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind but now can see.
I may be the divorced father who worked on a trading floor that likes bourbon, smokes a Churchill, listens to hard bop and prays a shit ton every morning.
I’m good with being known as John, Shep, Jumbo and dad.
I’m cool that someone refers to me as the asshole that I was married too. The guy at work that finishes the job. The loudmouth in an old beater with a Reagan bumper sticker. The guy that holds the door open for women and yells at people for not using a turn signal.
It took me years to create the guy who loves sunrises and hates ketchup on a hotdog.
Life tastes, smells and feels Mo Betta when you are comfortable in the skin you wear and the pant size that covers it.
Jeez, I drained more than I thought out of today’s quote. I was going to cut it short, say that I slept up to the alarm and wish you a glorious Humpday.
I’m glad I didn’t… this was a good therapy session.
Don’t jag around. The list is being checked twice and Jumbo Claus knows who is astonished and who isn’t.
