The first habit I picked back up after my Exile West of Mannheim Road was making my bed.
That was my bed again, no one else’s. I got in it alone and climbed out of it alone. So, every morning I made it my way. That simple act gave me a win before the day even got rolling. At night, no matter if the day was glorious or a full-blown shitshow, I climbed into a freshly made bed.
That’s closure. That’s pride.
Now, one habit I miss, deep in my bones, is reading the morning paper.
I come from a long line of ink-stained fingers. My Oldman could fold a crease in the Tribune like a Marine folds dress blues. I devoured the box scores, the standings and the Maywood and Sportsmans race results. I followed the circus at City Hall, read about aldermen throwing punches, and I got my movie picks from Roger Ebert. Royko was gospel. Holtzman told it straight. Gil Thorpe was the best coach. Kup was fading but still swinging by the time I picked up the paper.
And Sundays?
Jesus, a thick Sunday Tribune with the TV Guide, coffee cake and a fresh cup of coffee was a ritual.
I’ve got so many daily habits. Some I chose and some were handed down. Someday, the Shepkids are gonna sit around a Thanksgiving table, laughing about my quirks. If they start bitching over pumpkin pie about the way I did things, I swear I’ll flick the dining room lights from heaven just to remind them that old habits don’t die, they just dim a bit.
My Gramma had me up early when I was on her clock, working my ass off. Because of her, I’m the guy who shows up before on-time because on-time is already late. That stuck with me along with turning off WIBC to say Grace before breakfast and lunch.
The Chalkboard?
It’s a habit now too. Maybe the chalk breaks some days, maybe the sun doesn’t shine, but I’m still gonna chalk as long as I can. Some mornings I get fifty looks, other days I get five hundred. People tell me the Chalkboard has become part of their routine and if I have become their Royko or Wally Phillips, then I’m doing something right. That comes with a shit ton of responsibility. I won’t take it lightly you Chalkheads.
There’s less than two weeks left in July. We will lose 43 minutes of daylight by month’s end. The GoldBond will get swapped out for the Vicks VapoRub soon enough. Another habit formed through the years.
In 74 days, our Jewish brothers and sisters will atone on Yom Kippur. In 132 days, we will be rubbing BenGay on our cankles and shoulders before the annual Turkey Bowl.
Ditch the habits that drag you down. Keep the ones that lift you up. Put a smile on the sun and make the world astounding for yourself and the people lucky enough to cross your path.
Shabbat Shalom.
Keep chalking.
