October 8th, 2022

 The alarm clock on the nightstand registered a sixty one early on Saturday morning. The windows cranked open as the bright moon shined down from the western sky.

The air is still and the lion across the river is roaring faintly over a motorcycle racing on the distant street.

This is beautiful to me. The only thing missing is Hazel breathing in her sleep. The soft breath of a child that will soon be too old to crawl into her daddy’s bed.

These moments don’t last very long. The moon will be under the horizon before the sun starts to appear from the east. The traffic will start to build and drown the morning stretches coming from the lions grotto.

Beauty changes all around us every quick minute of the day. That’s the gift of life or the mystery depending on how you look at it. Beauty doesn’t last long.

Today’s quote comes from the last couplet of a John Keats poem. A poem about an Ancient Greek urn that has been around for centuries. A piece of art that was around before the romantic poets and will be around long after John Shepley.

My grandchildren will visit the Chicago museums and see the same treasures that I did. They will see Buckingham fountain and the bean in Millennium Park. They will see the Picasso at the Daley building.

But the future Shepkids will have to experience their own early morning October Saturdays. The beauty on this morning belongs to me.

You always hear the saying about beauty being in the eye of the beholder. I woke up to cold air on my neck and the moonlight shining across my bedroom. A beautiful way to wake up.

I see beauty when I unwrap a Chicago hotdog and the colors of the tomato and relish and mustard. The red, the green and the yellow masterpiece about to leave beauty in my belly.

A steaming pizza box with the picture of Italy is a beautiful site. So is an elevated train screeching along Lake Street. The couple in their eighties that walk by my balcony every evening before dinner time is beautiful.

Beauty doesn’t have to come from a poem that is two hundred years old about a Grecian urn that is two thousand years old.

Beauty is the fleeting moment that we all breath. It changes in the angles of the moonlight and the sunlight. Beauty changes as our children grow taller and their voices grow stronger.

Beauty is a middle age man with a big butt pulling the blankets up to his chin snoring in his chilly bedroom on a cold October morning.

What will this October weekend bring me that will bring beauty to my eye?

Will it be in a growler of BuckleDown beer and an Alpine sub?

Will it be played on a rugby pitch in Lemont?

Will it be the empty breakfast plate thrown in the sink by my oldest son?

Or when he says, “thanks dad! You make the best scrambled eggs!”

Will I find beauty listening to my Saturday radio programs or the folding of the Saturday newspapers?

Will I find beauty in the steam coming from the coffee cup and that first sip of caffeine?

The answer is yes…. This is the beauty that lays ahead of me on this only October 9th, 2022 that I’ll ever see.

Today is National pierogi day… I find beauty in these Polish dumplings filled with flavor.

Saturday morning errands can bring beauty. Saturday afternoon chores can bring beauty as well. So can the Saturday evening cocktail with Frank Sinatra in the background.

Your job today is to find beauty. I trust you’ll see it before it’s gone.

October 7th, 2022

 I woke up stiff this morning…. NO! ….. well that too, but I left the windows open in the bedroom and it got cold during the night.

I’m going to hit the snooze button on this crisp Friday morning and maybe think about the Farrah Fawcett poster that I had stapled to the ceiling above my bed forty years ago.

Yes….. I said the ceiling, not the wall!

My mom was pissed….. she knew what was going on!

Just like I told George before he moved to the town by the river…

“Son….. don’t leave any evidence that your mother can find!”

Anyway…. I’m hitting the snooze button a couple times this crisp morning….. don’t worry! If I told you I had you in my prayers I took care of that last night.

If your name is Farrah Fawcett…. I’ll take care of that between the second and third snooze buttons.

Last day of the week…. Cuddle with someone you love!

Make a meal in your crockpot and love in your bed.

October 6th, 2022

 Every Sunday night I climb into a bed with clean sheets. It gives me a feeling of optimism for the week ahead. It’s a fresh feeling when you’re starting out 0-0.

It’s not very satisfying by the end of the week if you just got by though. Monday was mediocre, Tuesday was terrific, Wednesday you barely climbed over the hump, Thursday was a waste, Friday was fantastic, Saturday was full of long lines and on Sunday the team lost in overtime.

The week ended at 500.

Yesterday the baseball team that I follow lost the last game of the season.

They lost 10-1….. Ten to One! Finishing the season with a record of eighty one wins and eighty one losses.

On The first of April I heard that saying we hear every year in Chicago. They say it up on Clark and Addison and they say it down on 35th Street.

“Hope Spring Eternal”

I’m sitting here on a Thursday morning reaching for a solid end to the week. The work week is running its smooth routine…. As long as Betty the Green Blazer makes all the yellow lights.

The kids brought joy on their Wednesday visit to Riverside. Followed by another shitshow confrontation with their mother.

I’m still holding on to the optimism of the clean sheets I had on Sunday night. I guess that I can settle for a five hundred record when I change the sheets this coming Sunday afternoon.

Settle for a five hundred record? Feeling satisfied with the same amount of wins as losses? Just getting by with mediocrity?

It kind of gets to the point where I want to fire my manager. I need a new second baseman, a new starting pitcher and it would be nice if my Triple A prospects are developed for the next season.

I’m sitting here at the beginning of October with the same amount of wins as losses. 2022 is feeling like another 162 game season with tight wins and and several ass whippings.

Today I pull a quote down for the chalkboard from Ms. Angelou. It’s fitting for the next day after a disappointing White Sox season.

But next year the Sox will have the pieces they need to win at least ninety to ninety five ballgames.

Next week I’m going to win that four hundred million dollar lottery and buy a house with a mud room inside the back door.

Well…… next year the Sox will disappoint me again and next week I’ll be carrying groceries up to the third floor, but at least I’ll have clean sheets on the bed Sunday night.

October 5th, 2022

 Sometimes you have to give mean people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they are having a bad day, but usually it’s because they are weak and they have to hear themselves bark.

I worked on a trading floor and I learned how to quickly respond to a confrontation. Everything moved fast, so a sharp comeback with a rude put down was key to winning an argument.

In the real world you can’t confront mean people in the same fashion. Even though it’s hard to do back away.

Just walk away…..

That’s all I’m going to say about this subject…..

The redheads are coming over today. It’s the last Farmers Market of the year and I have to take Hazel to school tonight. We are picking out her musical instrument for fourth grade.

I’m not looking forward to this because it hasn’t been a good run with the Shepkids.

George lasted three weeks on the trombone. It became something he could use to knock crap over in the house. Fritz also had a short career as a percussionist. I have a xylophone collecting dust in his closet.

So I’m laying it out that Hazel is the last hope for a musician in the family. A flute, a clarinet, a violin? As long as it’s not a tuba!

Anyway, enjoy your humpday! Hump them if you got them.

October 4th, 2022

      Yesterday I walked into the James Joyce with a wooden nickel in my pocket. A wooden nickel given to me last May and has been sitting on my dresser all summer.

My plan was to pay it forward to a stranger in the pub. I walked into the Joyce and said hello to a few of the guys I knew who were sitting in the front window. Then I took an open spot at the bar.

Standing to my right were three Berwyn guys cleanly dressed in pressed pants and fresh golf shirts. They could easily have been three soldiers for Mr. Accardo and Mr. Giancana back in the day.

To my left was a lady sipping a beer working on her laptop. Short blonde hair wearing a light blouse and a longer loose skirt.

I only had one token so I couldn’t offer it to the mobbed up guys. So I nervously decided to offer it to the lady sitting by herself.

“Pardon me…. I’m not trying to hit on you, but I’m here to have a shot on my father’s death anniversary and I have a wooden nickel that he’d like me to pass forward today.”

She smiled and was comfortable right away. She said she was sorry for the circumstances for my visit to the Joyce and told me her father’s birthday is tomorrow. It’s his third birthday in heaven.

Our conversation turned to our fathers in heaven and how she was thinking of him deeply the last few days. She pulled a locket from under her blouse that held her dad’s ashes.

My shot of Tullamore DEW arrived and I lifted it up to my father and told him I missed him. After I put the glass down I introduced myself to Sheila and we talked for several minutes.

Sheila was a realtor and earlier in the day she did an inspection in a house that had several items that reminded her of her father. I told her they were there as reminders from heaven. Those were at that house to let her know her dad was near.

I told Sheila how my mom leaves dimes for me occasionally and often wakes me up at 2:22am. At this point the conversation could have ended because I was some kind of weirdo, but it carried on as Sheila needed the boost of spirit the day before her dad’s heavenly birthday.

Paths cross for a reason and yesterday I bellied up next to a girl who missed her daddy. I just happened to be there to share a whiskey with mine.

We talked for ten minutes and Sheila was off to see her daughter run cross country. I finished my beer, chatted with the owner and was off to get White Castles for George and I.

I’m sure Don Shepley will find Sheila’s dad today and wish him a happy birthday.

The quick trip to the Joyce was symbolic of a lesson my dad taught. Be kind to strangers because they might just need a friendly hand.

I hope Sheila makes a meat and potatoes dinner tonight for her family in honor of her dad.

The quote on the board is from my dad’s favorite poet, William Butler Yeats. It was fitting for my Monday afternoon stop at the James Joyce.

October 3rd, 2022

 I have often talked about my Saturday morning and afternoon adventures with Don Shepley. How he’d wake me with British Military Bands at the crack of dawn and drag me around Chicagoland in the Dadillac.

My dad would sit at a breakfast table and tell the waitress “burn, burn and burn.” Meaning; burn the hash browns, burn the corn beef, burn the rye toast and eggs over easy.

Sitting across from my dad I learned a lot about life. He loved a greasy spoon for breakfast and an old school joint for lunch. We rarely went out for dinner on a Saturday night because he’d have to be home to watch “The McLaughlin Group” on channel 11 every week.

I learned how to inspect railroad cars. I learned every Chicago neighborhood. I learned the grid system. I learned where the good bakeries, news paper stands and hot dog joints were hidden and I learned how to treat people kindly.

Two years ago today my dad grabbed the keys to the Dadillac and drove to heaven. He left without me… no Grenadier Guard playing “Rule Britannia” cranked loud on the stereo. No “Get up Moose! We have things to do, places to go, people to meet!”

I don’t deal with the grief. Because my dad didn’t leave any. I might not be able to drive up to Lincoln Square for a bratwurst or Maxwell Street for a Polish with him… all I need to do is pray and he shows up. That’s how I deal with grief. I pray to my dad…

The last thing he said to me with his dying breath was, “you magnificent son of a bitch.”

Today I will raise a pint and do a shot of Tullamore D.E.W. in the memory of Donald Joseph Aloysius Shepley. The man who slapped many bricks into my foundation.

October 2nd, 2022

 On yesterday’s Chalkboard I talked about seeing Cheeseheads getting sprayed with rhino urine at the zoo. Since that day their football team has done very well.

I had the idea that I would wear my Walter Payton jersey and walk through the pachyderm house and sacrifice myself to a pissing rhino.

This did not happen, but I saw two guys wearing their 34 jersey to Brookfield Zoo yesterday. One was in the Gorilla house and the other was walking into the petting zoo.

Is this the omen Bear fans have been looking for? What is the coincidence that I write about wearing a Bear jersey to the zoo and two men wear that jersey later in the morning?

Bear Down Baby!

Today I’m using a Bobby Frost poem for the Chalkboard. When happiness shows up at the front door welcome it in and cherish the short visit. You never know the next time it will come knocking at the door.

It’s going to be a gorgeous day in Chicagoland… today is the last day The Polar Bear on Cermak near DesPlaines road will be open until next spring. My go to is a swirl with a chocolate dip. It makes me happy.

Go out and get yourself a SoftServe cone and enjoy Sunday Funday and the first week of October.

October 1st, 2022

      The first day of October is upon us. Soon we will be gathering around the Thanksgiving table and then the Christmas tree.

2022 is rushing quickly into 2023 and soon we will look back and see what the year brought us.

We know it has brought higher prices, a war in Europe and the continuation of bickering among our politicians.

But what about us?

It’s really important to stop and smell the flowers before they wither away and get buried in the snow. As life goes on, don't wait until the only option is to reminisce about the past.

I’m sitting on my couch this morning and I can hear the lions roaring from Brookfield Zoo. They are telling me to come over and say hello today.

That zoo has seen me on field trips, family trips, with my mommy, with my dad, on dates, by myself and lately with my offsprings. I’ve seen the changes and improvements through the years.

I was able to see Ziggy after they took his chains off. I rode on the steam train that circled around the entire zoo and once I saw a rhino spray a group from Wisconsin with urine.

Ziggy died years ago and Brookfield Zoo no longer holds elephants in captivity. Insurance and maintenance became too expensive and now the train has been replaced with trams. The Cheeseheads that got pissed on? Their football team has owned our football team since.

Maybe I’ll wear a Bears shirt and coax the rhino into pissing on me today. Then the Bears will finally become a winning team.

That will be something the kids can reminisce about down the road.

“Remember the day dad wore his Walter Payton Jersey to the Zoo and the rhino pissed on him?”

“Dad smelled like piss for the rest of that weekend!”

“Yeah, but dad wore that Walter Payton jersey at every SuperBowl the Bears won before he died!”

Just going to the zoo today can change NFL history and make memories for the Shepkids.

It all started with the early morning roar from the Lion’s den a few blocks away.

Enjoy the first weekend of October and always remember that it’s better to be pissed off than pissed on!

September 30th, 2022

 Last day of the month. Last day of the third quarter. Last week of baseball in Chicago…

Nothing lasts forever and most of the time we don’t even know it’s the last time. Did you know the last time you played Kick the Can with all the kids in the neighborhood or the last time you played football in the street?

How about the last time you played a game of baseball at the park down the street?

I don’t remember saying, “Okay fellas, this is the last time we play baseball before we go our separate ways in life!”

Anyway…. Don’t let the last time go unnoticed!

Enjoy a beautiful weekend…. I hope your rugby and football teams win!

September 29th, 2022

       Today’s Chalkboard quote is from Teddy Seuss Geisel. I would take the word “grow” out and replace it with “get.”

Everyday I get out of bed I’m still becoming a grown up. I still don’t think I’ll ever be a grown up.

I believe every morning when I get up it takes courage. It takes courage for all of us to face the next day of our lives. I doesn’t matter if you’re a school teacher, a nurse, a police officer, a small business owner or a commodity broker.

It takes courage!

Thursday morning get up is here and another stone is being placed onto your foundation. You might even be placing a stone on someone else’s foundation.

So Dr. Seuss….

“When my feet hit the ground, they make a mighty bound. I’m off to do good … the best that tomorrow says I could. I’ll give out a big yell to the devil down in hell and reach up to the sky and still ask my parents why. That light was still yellow and I’ll hold the elevator for the tall fellow. I’ll always try to smile because everyday is another mile.”

This morning my schedule is out of sorts because I had the redheads sleep over on a school night. I’ll barely make the opening bell, but today will be better because I was able to stick a brick into the foundation of all three Shepkids.

Today is National Coffee Day… I’ll take mine strong, hot and black just like my old boyfriend!

September 28th, 2022

     Wednesday morning and I don’t have much to say. I have a lot on my mind, but I don’t have a point to make or a story to tell.

I get to pick up the kids after school today on the other side of Mannheim. I do enjoy that!

I have time to kill so I park very early in the pick up line. I roll down the windows, put the seat back and take a quick power nap.

Last week a yummy mummy caught me snoring and maybe drooling a little. It was that great of a nap.

I’m like Wooderson in “Dazed and Confused.” Though I’m the older divorced dad and not the twenty year old hanging out with high school kids.

“That's what I love about these elementary school moms, man. I get older, they stay the same age.”

When I started picking up George ten years ago the mommies all had bad ankle tattoos that they probably got on a drunk night in college. Shamrocks, rainbows, panda bears…..

Now the mommies all have cursive words on their forearms.

“Peace” “Love” “Injustice”

I was thinking of grabbing a Sharpie and writing “Fellatio” and “Orgasm” on my forearms.

So that’s my afternoon plan…. picking up the redheads, smiling at mommies twenty years younger than me and making some pizzas.

Autumn sure has made a grand entrance this week. Christmas is less than three months away!

September 27th, 2022

       The other day I posted a picture of Hazel and I sitting together on my couch. It was “National Daughter Day” and many of you did the same.

All of our daughters are vibrant, confident and strong girls. We are all so fucking blessed. We really are.

On that day that we celebrated the young women we are raising, I watched this story out of Iran. A twenty two year old girl was killed by the Koran Police for not wearing her head gear properly.

Let’s make this clear right now….I never get political on The Morning Chalkboard… this has nothing to do with Geopolitics or Muslims or religion. I can give two shits about Iran in the first place.

I spent my newspaper route money in November of 1979 on an “Ayatollah Assahola” poster! Stuck it right up between Farrah Fawcett and Walter Payton. So I’ve hated these jagoffs for over forty years.

I’m writing about a picture of someone’s daughter. A vibrant, confident and strong girl located in the Middle East. Her dad lost his daughter over the weekend because her shishab wasn’t covering her face properly.

There was a second picture of this baby girl lying in a coma in a hospital bed. That is the point of this morning’s chalkboard.

Our daughters are playing sports, reading books, listening to shitty music and blossoming into strong women.

These baby girls in most of the Middle East can’t do that.

This isn’t my fight!

A murdered Muslim girl on the other side of the world isn’t my cause, BUTT….

…. I pain for Mahsa Amini’s Oldman who can’t post a picture of his baby girl anymore.

No Prom pictures! No graduating from Nursing School pictures! No tailgating at Northwestern pictures and No Engagement pictures!

This isn’t my fight!

I wont be thinking about Mahsa Amini the next time I post a picture of my gorgeous little redhead. I just need to remember never to take it for granted every time that I do.

We are so lucky that we get to fight, get the right, lose the right over American Women’s right for abortion. On the other side of the world women get rocks thrown at them if they know how to spell “camel.”

I’m just a fifty six year old dad who has a daughter in fourth grade. My heart would turn to stone if I couldn’t hold her in my arms tomorrow…….

C A M E L

September 26th, 2022

      I was leaving the Bear game yesterday and I lost my buddy in the crowd and then I turned down the wrong aisle in the parking garage.

After I figured out my bearings I doubled back towards my tailgate. I passed a group of guys drinking beers and one of them said, “You look lost, have a beer!” And he handed me a fresh bottle of beer out of his cooler.

I told him this was the best part of my day… his act of kindness. I shook his hand, high fived his buddies and we all screamed “Bear Down!”

I walked away thinking that I need to pass along the kindness shown to me.

A cold bottle of beer from a stranger will always make life better.

It’s the last week of September and yesterday was the last day with 12 hours of daylight until next year. The Bears are a horrible 2-1 team and the White Sox rolled over and died last week.

The sweater drawer is going to open and close all week and the extra blanket is on call. So let’s finish the month of September on a good note and pass kindness forward.

September 25th, 2022

 I picked this quote because I deal with a sad person everyday. Then I sat down to write about it and had a brain fart.

I don’t want to talk about sadness today. So I’ll leave it at that….

Always replace sadness with sweetness.

Bear Down Chicago Bears!

September 24th, 2022

       A little Billy Shakes on the first crisp Saturday of Autumn. The quote is from “Hamlet” and has always stood out as not just the central theme of the play, but the uncertainty of life as well.

We know what we are doing on Saturday, September 24th in the year 2022, but we don’t have a clue what we will be doing on September 24th, 2023.

We have zero clue what comedy or tragedy awaits us in the coming months.

I thought maybe I’ll live the next twelve months in a Melodrama. So I looked up the definition of Melodrama.

- a sensational dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and exciting events intended to appeal to the emotions.

This is exactly how I live my life!

The drama is sensational, I hangout with eclectic friends and every morning I take the road to excitement. This is how I will live my days…..

Unlike Ophelia, I know what my future brings.

I do see something bright these days….. Less plexiglass!

The plastic spit guards that have barricaded our lives the last two years are finally starting to disappear.

Maybe we can come up with Shakespearean symbolism to describe the plexiglass period of the early 2020’s?

“Thou shall bringest down thy flimsy fake film of glass and breath thy filth and disgust onto my formidable facade. For the time has cometh to knockdown what shields our Insecurities and lack of trust from within our deeper anxiousness.”

“Jumbo” Act 56, Scene 9

Hop Stop in Riverside today… I get to drink beer with my friends and exaggerate life in a sensational setting. Something for everyone, a comedy tonight!

September 23rd, 2022

   We always complain about politicians not being honest or someone at work. A neighbor or a priest, but I’ve learned the only one that matters is a fat kid born on the northside of Chicago during the Johnson Administration.

In Chicago we have a fine line when it comes to the truth. Either we lie to you or we take the liberty of bullshiting you.

Bullshiting is like a fib or a white lie. Something that at the present time…you don’t need to know what’s going on.

When you lie you better have a good memory of what you said. Your tongue doesn’t have a memory, but your brain sure as hell does.

Which means you can’t lie to yourself…. You can’t even bullshit yourself.

The little kid on the television screen up at Santa’s workshop. He’s the little boy in “Polar Express” repeating “it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me!”

Every time I watch that movie with the Shepkids I tell them, “that kid fucked himself! Santa won’t let him off!”

“Kids….. three things that you can’t lie to, it’s impossible! God, yourself and Santa Claus!”

So that piece of crap Mayor or Governor. The jagoff broker on the other side of the pit. That neighbor that still has your weedwhacker and Father O’Blithering… three people know they are all liars and eventually… THE TRUTH WILL PREVAIL……

First weekend of Autumn…. May your football and rugby team leave victorious. May your crockpot fill your home with warmth. May your blankey reach from your toes to your nose and may your lips say “I Love You” to many of those you see.

…and do your homework when voting for judges!

September 22nd, 2022

                I think I pulled a hamstring yesterday with all the dancing on EWF Day.

It’s over though…. The Summer of ‘22. We just banged out another chapter, another season and another stack of memories.

Time to move on and get ready for Charlie Brown season. We get to stay up for the Great Pumpkin. We get to see Charlie Brown panic on Thanksgiving and again when he is in charge of the doomed Christmas show.

Just like last years Charlie Brown season. Everything works out!

Sure Our hero gets another bag full of rocks when he goes Trick or Treating, but he handles it.

After putting together a failed Thanksgiving dinner, which I thought turned out amazing…. everyone piles into the back of the station wagon and heads to Grammas house.

Let’s think about Gramma’s reaction when the kids show up and she meets the Lesbian couple and the black kid. Charles Schultz was way ahead of his time.

And then Christmas time?

Linus belts out the Bible to explain the meaning of Christmas! Solid move…..

Charlie Brown Season….. we look for the promise of hope with the arrival of a Pumpkin Ghost. We gather friends and prepare a meal with what we can throw together in a pinch and we take a scrawny little Christmas tree nailed to a couple boards and find beauty in all that it offers.

Three 24 minute long cartoons nail the holiday season. We are all nerdy bald headed kids. Our self esteem is tested everyday. Stress shows up in many different ways, but we trudge through and finish what we started.

The first ten minutes Charlie Brown faces an ordeal and in the next fourteen minutes it’s solved. What he worried about at the beginning of the show he laughs about during the closing credits.

Today the closing credits for Summer of 2022 are scrolling across the screen. The issues facing us in June are an instant memory and a conquered foe.

Bring it on Lucy… this is the year we kick that football.

September 21st, 2022

      How glorious the summer ends on a day when the winds calm the fires on our great earth.

     We walk down the streets, sit at our desks and run our daily routine thinking about golden dreams of shiny days and never was there a cloudy day. 
        Tomorrow is the first day of autumn. Oktoberfest is in the air, football on the fields and sweater drawers getting unpacked.
            The newness of pumpkin spice will wear off sooner than later as the shadows lengthen across the lawn.
                Grocery store lights caught my attention when I was a kid. You never notice them in the summer, but when the days get shorter that bright orangy “Jewels” sign stuck out at 5:00pm.
            Don’t forget to listen to Earth, Wind and Fire today. I’m going to move myself and glide like a 747. Maybe take a fantasy trip to boogie wonderland because it is after the love has gone.
                                      So grab some JumboLove and Let’s Groove Tonight……

September 20th, 2022

      I grabbed a sport coat out of the closet yesterday. When I reached in the pocket I found a funeral card for someone who passed last year. I took it out and put it on my dresser.

I don’t get my sport coats cleaned every time I wear them. In the past I have found a half dozen cocktail straws in the pocket, cocktail napkins and every once in a while a bottle cap.

There was a time when I would put on a suit or sport coat for something fun. A wedding, a nice dinner, the opera or a show, but lately the dress clothes only come out for wakes and funerals.

When we were kids we collected baseball cards and now fifty years later we collect funeral cards.

The day will come when the Shepkids will design a card for me. I don’t want an English Blessing or a Bible quote on the back of mine. I want song lyrics.

I want all my friends to leave the funeral home earwormed with a song.

Also, Instead of my birthdate and death date I’ll put…..

“588-2300 Empire”

So not only will you be earwormed you might consider new carpeting for the bedroom.

I just need to figure out the song for the back. The picture on the front is easy. I can use the selfie I took in the shower when I was putting my first Match dot com account together.

The song…. What song will be an appropriate earworm at my wake?

I got it!

“Ooh baby, I'm hot just like an oven,

I need some lovin'

And baby, I can't hold it much longer

It's getting stronger and stronger

When I get that feeling

I want sexual healing

Sexual healing, oh baby

Makes me feel so fine.”

That’s it….. nothing from the Bible or a famous poet. It will be Marvin Gaye, I’m going all out Marvin Gaye.

Today might be the last 90 handle for the summer. This global warming has definitely lengthened the GoldBond season.

I hope when you turn your radio on for “two fer Tuesday” you hear two songs from your favorite musical artist.

Think of me if you hear “What’s Goin On” and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.”

It’s also BOGO at Labarra….. grab a couple pizzas tonight and celebrate the end of summer with a thin crust.

September 19th, 2022

     Around 1993 I went to Service Merchandise and bought a wooden unit that held five hundred CD’s. It cost $175 and that thing took over an entire wall.

By then most of my record albums were long gone. In a matter of eight years I went from six milk crates of vinyl to a book shelf of plastic containers holding small silver discs.

I’m embarrassed to tell you the last album I bought. It was at Val’s shop on South Boulevard. It was that Outfield album where Josie went on her long distant vacation. The first CD I bought was SuperTramp’s “Breakfast in America.”

If you look back at it now the CD era lasted about eighteen years. 1986 to around 2004ish. That was around the time of Napster and the iPod. In a matter of twenty years I went from milk crates of albums to a shiny little box that fit in my pocket.

The Service Merchandise shelving unit hit the garbage when I performed Exile East of Mannheim. One Saturday afternoon during Covid I took all my CD’s and put them in a binder and put all the cases in the recycle bin.

The six CD changer that I bought at MusicCraft in 1989 rarely plays music. Sitting on top of it is a record player.

All the music I ever owned is on my phone….

We can’t cure cancer or end hunger. We can’t stop hating each other, but we figured out how to fit six milk crates of record albums into our pocket.

And my dad who thought he was cool when he bought a car with an eight track player. Judy Collins and Barry Manilow are not cool dad!