Let’s cut the crap!
I don’t need some quote from a monk in a robe, scribbling on parchment, to tell me how to live my life.
“Walk toward beautiful days”?
Buddy, I have always been walking to find the beauty. My shoes are worn, my knees are shot, and the day still shows up with a flat tire and a shitty cup of gas station coffee.
I walk out the front door and some mornings, yeah, sure, it’s birds chirping and the breeze smells like baseball and fresh cut grass. Other days, it’s freezing, my car won’t start, and there’s a fresh pile of dog crap on the sidewalk waiting for me like a welcome mat from hell. Life isn’t a Hallmark movie. It is potholes, overdue bills, and figuring out which leftovers are still safe to eat.
You want real talk? The mayor’s a clown.
The president? A full-blown circus act.
My baseball team? They play like the Keystone Cops.
I stopped paying cable, just to not watch their mediocrity on the baseball diamond. People text me memes about how the world is ending, but God forbid if I send one back that bites a little too hard, then I’m the bad guy.
Delete.
Look, if you called dibs on the parking spot in front of my building, I’m not gonna slash your tires. Kudos for getting up early and putting out the lawn chair. That’s the game. Some days you win. Some days you scrape off someone else’s win from your shoe. It just doesn’t matter.
What does matter?
Showing up. Even when the day looks like garbage. Even when nobody uses their turn signals. Even when the sun clocks out at 8:00 PM and won’t work the late shift again until next May.
Yeah you Chalkheads in Chicagoland! I hate to tell you this, but we just had our last sunset this late until next spring.
That Latin line in the Grabber Section on the Chalkboard?
Vindica te tibi.
That ain’t fancy.
It’s a gut-check.
It means stop waiting for the world to do you a favor. Grab the wheel. Stake your claim. Own your name, your flaws, your damn self and steal home......
Life ain’t about chasing sunshine. It’s about dragging your ass through the storm and still finding time to rewatch Casablanca on a Tuesday night. Because Bogart never once asked for a beautiful day. He lit a cigarette, stared down the nazis, and made the day answer to him.
I know I have been sounding like a broken record this week. Summer is running out of days. School is about to start. Shadows are growing long and I can't afford to let Chalkhead Nation grab their sweaters and pumpkin spice just yet.
Let's rip the roof off this sonabitch and show the world that we don't need an umbrella!
