I took me on a nice date last night.
First stop was my Irish pub, where I caught up with the lads. An old colleague wandered in and we jabbered about the highlights of our careers. We were both in agreement how damn lucky we were to have experienced the trading floor during its golden hour.
The next place that I took me was for dinner at the local joint that is just 937 steps from my back door.
Fettuccine with shrimp and mussels, followed by a cannoli for dessert. The Pacers were on every TV, and a jazz trio played standards in the background.
At one point, they paused to rework their sound. I walked up to the piano man and asked if he’d play “Time After Time” for me, not the Cyndi Lauper version, but the Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra one.
That song is part of my night-night repertoire for the Shepkids. I have rubbed many a toddler’s back while softly singing that one... along with Moon River, Rainbow Connection, and Sunrise, Sunset from Fiddler on the Roof.
The jazz trio were three old guys probably in their eighties. They had pressed slacks and cabana shirts on.
After they played my song they rolled into another gem from the soundtrack of my life, “Sunny” by Bobby Hebb. That was the song my mommy sang to me when I was a little bundle of JumboLove.
I didn’t request it, the old fellas just started playing it and I started to tingle.
How the hell did we go from the song I sung to my children to the song my ma sang to me?
Again, another mystery of our faith. That was my mommy dropping a dime for me, but with our song. It was a perfect gift for my date with me.
On a week when America is burning and the Middle East is fighting. I had a colleague on my trading floor leave abruptly only to find out that the bastard needed his gallbladder yanked. If you know Joe Bauers, give him a text of encouragement.
Anyway, last night’s date with me was a fantastic finish to the week. Unfortunately the Pacers lost and the jazz trio packed up.
Today, I have another date with me. Let’s hope my ex can stay out of the hospital this time. It is the first home playoff match for the Chicago Hounds. I’m going to have an Alpine sub and a cigar on my date and since I’m driving, Guinness0.
This is a perfect weekend to treat yourself. It is all for you!
Play your favorite song.
Make your favorite appetizer.
Walk your favorite path.
Remind yourself how goddamn awesome you are.
Time after time,
I tell myself that I'm,
So lucky to be loving you…..
