I looked in the mirror this morning and saw my dad when he was in his late fifties.
Crows feet flaring from the outside of my eyes. Three ruts along my forehead formed by the perplexed thoughts that I had. Pruny skin over my collar that is early onset gobble-gobble chin.
…and I was wearing a white crewneck t-shirt stretched out from a hard night sleep.
My dad was getting tired when he was at this age. Stressed by the threat of forced early retirement in a career that he thrived on.
Having hindsight, I can see my dad was getting warm out by the years of bowing his neck, lowering his shoulders and pushing through life’s hard days.
I didn’t realize that my dad was quickly aging at the time.
Tomorrow, I will see something else when I look into my mirror. I will see the person that I have woken up with since the 1960’s and I kind of like that sweet bastard.
Whatever we see when we look in the mirror is a fanfuckingtastic human being who is worth loving and caring for.
I know I sound like Stuart Smiley on this first Sunday of March, but I’m not bullshitting you.
Look into the mirror when you walk away from the Morning Chalkboard and marvel in who you are.
On a fun note….
Mardi Gras is this week!
Let the Good Times Roll!
Let’s go out and be Bacchus the next couple of days. Bacchus is the Roman god for good times and joyous parties.
I first met Bacchus playing quarters at a high school party many years ago. We don’t hang like we once did, but our memories are golden.
I’m going to hit it hard these next couple of days. It has worked out perfectly that Mardi Gras is right before my “Sixty Days of Celebrating Cecilia.”
One last chocolate eclair, one last hotdog, one last glass of bourbon and pint of beer. No pizza, no steaks, no sliders, no orgasms, no Alpines and not even a grilled cheese.
The biggest thing missing during my sabbatical for my Mama…
… the polish sausage smothered with grilled onions and a swipe of mustard on opening day.
Look into the mirror and be astonished in what you see
