I picked a quote today that is credited to Albert Einstein. I selected it specifically for today because I know all the Shepkids will see it right before they ask me…
…”What’s for breakfast Dad?”
The more mistakes that we make in life, the less regret we carry going forward.
It is the Sunday of President’s Day weekend. I always like to tell the story that happened on this day over thirty years ago in New Orleans.
Hurricanes, shrimp po-boys, sazaracs, Dallas chicks, hurricanes, Lucky Dogs, Abitas, oysters at Acme, sazaracs, karaoke, hurricanes, back for a Lucky Dog, stumble back to hotel, waking up on a balcony with a pillow of Mardi Gras beads passed out on a pull-out cot.
The Sunday night of President’s Day in the French Quarters. Back home in Chicago that weekend, it was ten degrees and snow was plastered on everything. In New Orleans, it was sixty-five degrees and humid.
I woke up on Monday morning to shudders swinging open at the tavern kitty corner to my hotel. Just before the bar owner turned on his “open” sign, he cranked his speakers to eleven and “Honky Tonk Woman” blasted me out of my cot. I had to peel the Mardi Gras beads from my cheek. The green, purple and gold clinging to my face that left a distinct pattern. I’m sure I wasn’t the first Yankee to use Mardi Gras beads for a pillow.
I realized something very important that morning.
For the rest of my life…
…when I’m standing on a CTA platform in the middle of February waiting for the “L” to take me to work. When I feel the bitter cold of late winter gnawing at my cheeks. I will be warm just knowing that there is a bar in New Orleans that is jamming to the Rolling Stones as they open for business.
Back to yesterday’s Chalkboard…
… instead of feeling doomed, I felt the beauty and the romance of not only the French Quarter, but also the experience of a cold morning commute across the westside of Chicago.
I loved reading the Tribune on the Lake Street el. Watching the skyscrapers get closer and closer as the sun began reaching over Lake Michigan. It was like I was living in a movie.
My life was a combination of “Wall Street” and “About Last Night.”
When I was in New Orleans, I was a small character in a Tennessee Williams play, but minus the mental illness and homosexuality.
Remember, I mentioned Dallas girls in a prior paragraph.
Life has its mistakes, but the experience far outweighs the consequences.
Life doesn’t need shits and giggles, lollipop trees and rainbows, flowers and Frango mints.
Life is a cold commute to work and a hangover at the corner of Toulouse and Bourbon Street.
Life is hearing your son compliment you on the pancakes or your boss telling you that you kicked ass at work.
Life is the morning Trib bought from a metal coin box on Ridgeland and South Boulevard.
Life is a sazarac at the Old Absinthe House.
Life is a first date that turned out awkward or a one-night stand that was electric.
Life is a road filled with potholes or a trip without a single red light.
I guess the theme this weekend is to make mistakes, try something new and see the beauty all around.
Because we are all doomed anyway.
Today is a trip to the hotdog stand on a cold afternoon. Parkys is just as tasty in February as it is in July.
I need to go fold the seven blankets tossed all over the living room.
Though the site of them is beautiful. Because that is where we watched hockey, rugby and movies together last night. I also need to pick up the spilled popcorn caused by an empty netter. A reminder of the experience that I had on the Saturday night of President’s Day weekend in the mid 2020’s.
Go experience astonishment, you won’t regret it
