I chalked this quote down after some bitter emails with the Shepkids’ other parent.
I could easily bang out seven hundred words on the history of that relationship, but that is a negative direction for a Monday morning.
Instead, I’m going to tell a story about a guy that I know who is a little younger than me. The kid brother to one of my dearest friends.
I was sitting in Shanahans Saturday afternoon having a beer, a bowl of seafood gumbo and a Fat Harry’s cheeseburger.
Just as I am finishing my lunch, a vice grip of a hand squeezes the nape of my neck and a quick punch clips my love handle.
I look back and see a familiar smile squinting in the afternoon sun shining across the bar.
I was getting ready to pay my bill when my old friend and his wife bellied up next to me. What could have been a quick catch up turned into an hour of old stories and cherished memories.
Here are high school sweethearts from Oak Park/River Forest that produced six children that have all become adults.
My buddy comes from a family that lived in the southwest corner of Oak Park. His parents raised ten kids in a little foursquare stucco house.
I went to Shanahans in a bad mood after those damn emails and a sudden text from the Redheads saying that they’ve decided to stay west of Mannheim Road.
I went to Shanahans and found out the visit had a little more than me feeling sorry for myself. I left Shanahans after hearing the struggles and the happiness of a marriage that has lasted thirty years. The visit was more than just a bowl of incredible gumbo. It was a reminder of how good life is...
Twenty-five years ago I sat on the same barstool with a girl that I was dating and falling in love with. I had daydreams of sitting with her as empty nesters someday drinking beers on a Saturday afternoon.
That never happened, but I did get a glimpse of that during a quick bite to eat at a consistent place in my life. A place that I go to when I need to sort things out.
From working as a bouncer at Shanahans when I was twenty-five to celebrating birthdays, Mardi Gras, political fundraisers and even my rehearsal dinner. The Irish bar/Creole restaurant at 7353 West Madison has always been my happy place.
It ranks right there with my Oldman’s house at 220 South Lombard and my long career at 141 West Jackson.
I might have gone to lunch by myself Saturday afternoon, but I left filled with great joy.
Always have somewhere to go that has a magical and spiritual connection. A place that sends messages or gives you a sign when life gets foggy.
When I worked downtown, I’d walk over to Buckingham fountain and sit on the bench on the southeast corner that faces the city. I’d listen to Vivaldi and leave with a better sense of my surroundings.
Shanahans has that same purpose.
Good therapy this weekend and with this Chalkboard. Off to The Oakbrook Terrace Board of Trade and the last week of January.
Today we remember the hatred of nazi Germany and pray for our Jewish brothers and sisters on International Holocaust Remembrance Day.
Look at that sunset time…. We’ve made it through the darker days of winter.
Be astonished
