Things do not change; we change is today’s quote courtesy of Henry David Thoreau.
Last night, I went to bed watching a tinderbox ready to blow. I had to turn the television off before I got sucked in. Upheaval here in America, tensions flaring in the Middle East. It is the same old song and dance show. This madness was here long before we showed up on this blue marble, and it’ll be here long after they put us in the ground. It's bigger than me . . . and honestly, I’m not going to waste energy on what I can’t change.
What I can change… is me.
I do the changing.
I grow, I adjust, I adapt. Every single frickin' day right here on the outskirts of the city by the lake.
Here is the rub: I don’t even like change.
I want the thick newspapers with in-depth reporting and not google news. I want radio broadcasts that actually broadcast timely news, sports and crop prices. I don't need a washed-up retread of a DJ from the 1970's spouting opinions on my morning drive.
I want a sporting event without T-shirt cannons, pole dancers and fireworks between plays. I want one damn song before kickoff or the first pitch.
Give me a drunk play-by-play guy with a baseball encyclopedia in his head and a song in his heart about Cracker Jack.
I want girls in dresses and guys in slacks when they board the plane and not sweatpants and flip-flops from the Walmart leisure section sitting in the aisle seat.
I want neon signs glowing above neighborhood taverns and bakeries down the block. I want to have my parish pastor come over for a cocktail on the balcony.
No, we don’t need to time travel to the 1950s...
...we just need to get back to integrity, responsibility and accountability.
It is Friday. Just like it was on that Friday I came home from the Board of Trade after my first afternoon with the older guys. Buzzed off a few beers at the Berghoff, I walked in grinning.
My old man asked why I looked so damn happy.
I said, “Because it is Friday Dad.”
He shot back: “Yeah? Monday is only two days away Moose.”
And ever since, that voice of his has followed me into every weekend, just to remind me that things never really change.
Sunrise this morning? 5:15.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’ve had a string of 5:15 starts this week. That is about as early as the sun rises over the western suburbs. Just like the week in December when I chalk the 4:18 sunsets, the earliest of the year.
It’s a cycle. It won’t change, but we can.
It’s Friday.... let's forget Monday for a minute.
You can’t change it, but you can still find something astonishing to do before it shows up.
