November 14th, 2023

 I think I’ve dummied down since Covid. I have definitely been more judgmental since 2020.

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That last paragraph has been censored by the back office at The Morning Chalkboard. It contained political commentary unfit for the readers.

Tuesdays are touchdown days in November. It is also the day you’ll hear two in a row from your favorite artist. You can never go wrong with two hits by Phil Collins.

I’m going to pick “No Reply at All” off of the Abacab album and “Easy Lover.”

Enjoy your Tuesday Morning earworms. It could be worse….. It could be two from Air Supply or Nickleback.

Sixty two and sunny on the fourteenth of November?

I’ll take it and you’ve got it!

November 13th, 2023

 Throughout our lives we encounter a Lucy van Pelt from time to time. The first meeting with Lucy was in grade school. She came back at one point in our career.

…and some of us might have mistakenly married Ms. van Pelt.

If that is the case the odds are that marriage failed.

Every time you think that this is the time you’re going to kick that football….

…it gets pulled away and you land on your back. And just like Charlie Brown, I too have a Lucy that loves to tempt me with a field goal attempt.

Unlike Charlie Brown, I have learned to settle for the two point conversion. There will be a time when Lucy offers me another chance. When that time comes and I go for two… the latchkey will reside in Riverside.

It is a Monday in the middle of November. Be ready to fall on any fumbles. Be prepared to ruck over.

Be prepared for a prick to cut in front of you without a turn signal.

Don’t be tempted to kick Lucy’s football and please don’t be tempted to kick Lucy in the head.

…and if Peppermint Patty calls to invite herself, her girlfriend and the one black kid in the neighborhood over for Thanksgiving, have the balls to tell her that you’re going to your Gramma’s house.

I put the smile on the sun this morning. Let it shine down on your Monday.

November 12th, 2023

      I was sitting next to the guy whose daughter I was engaged to marry later in the year. We were watching the SuperBowl when a commercial for Cialis came on late in the game.

By this time in the evening we both had enjoyed a couple cocktails. When during the add for erectile dysfunction the narrator said, “You should call your physician if you experience an erection that lasts longer than three hours.”

That is when I blurt out….

“A physician! You should call an escort service!!!”

I saw the words floating out of my mouth and across the family room. Drifting over the guacamole in slow motion….

“Eeeessscccooooort seeeerviiiiiiicceeee……..”

I’m going to marry this guy’s daughter in the fall and here I am thinking about hookers and boner pills?

The reaction I was about to receive was a kick in the ass and the old “you’re out of here Boner Boy.”

When suddenly the future father in law replies with a chuckle,

"…Escort service! That is a good one Big John.”

No blood, no foul… I am off to live another day.

Eight months later I marry this guys daughter and the rest is history.

Yesterday I was over at his house with the Shepkids. Fritz was in the sunroom watching television. George was In the basement chilling out. Hazel and I were outside putting all the summer stuff in the yard and on the patio away for the winter. The same chores I did twice a year for many years at the beginning of the Millennium.

We were all there to create activity and put some life in the house. While we were doing these things, my mother in law (not former; I didn’t divorce her) was talking with an associate from the funeral home. Earlier in the morning her husband left Hinsdale for heaven.

All those years I would tell the Shepkids to keep the noise down and now here we were bringing noise. We came to distract their mom’s mom on a painful day.

I never pictured after my divorce that I would be back at a happy place from my marriage putting the hose carts and flower pots away for the winter.

…and doing it on the day my father In law (not former; I didn’t divorce him) passed away.

Earlier that day the Shepkids found out PopPop won’t be around to see them graduate from high school and college. Hazel’s eyes welled up with tears. Fritz’s chin fell to his sternum and George ran into his room. They lost their first relative that had been in their life since day one.

George and Pop went out every Saturday together. If Pop was picking George up at 9:30, he’d pull up at 9:25.

I will never again yell, “George!!! Let’s go, let’s go… on the hop! PopPop is waiting!”

At one point yesterday, Fritz turned to me and said, “Dad…. Last Christmas when PopPop was sitting here, it was his last Christmas ?!?!?”

“Yes son… it was the last Christmas with Pop.”

In his nonchalant way Fritz plainly said, “I didn’t see that coming dad.”

“No shit Fritz, no shit. That is why you must learn to cherish every moment, every day of your life.”

These last couple of years I’ve become close with my in laws again. Things didn’t work out as planned, but that is how life rolls.

I’ve lost my father In law twice now. The first time was nonsensical. The second time is vexatious.

Heaven is closer than Hinsdale. God Bless Pop…. You just went from a twenty six handicap to a scratch golfer. Until we meet again, thanks for laughing during that Cialis commercial.

Today’s quote is from “Alice in Wonderland.” PopPop always said these lines to his grandchildren when they were sleeping on his belly.

He was a fantastic PopPop…

“The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--

Of cabbages--and kings--

And why the sea is boiling hot--And whether pigs have wings."

Sunday Funday you beautiful Chalkheads. No horrible Bear game to waste the day this afternoon. Go be with someone special. You never know if this is your last November 12th together.

November 11th, 2023

 There was a gentleman that lived down the block from my childhood home. He had a flagpole in his yard. Most of the houses in the neighborhood had poles angled off the front stoop

…but this house on the corner had a pole cemented in the lawn with flood lights underneath.

The gentleman that lived there was older than my father. He was tall, thin and walked with a limp. He also had a plastic hand.

As a kid that pole must have been one hundred feet tall. I figure looking back that it was probably twenty-five, maybe thirty feet high.

My neighbor always took his flag down for bad weather. He lowered it half-staff when the President declared that state. Because it was lit, he left it up most nights.

The only time during the week it wasn’t displayed was Saturday night into Sunday morning. The gentleman would raise it back up when he returned from Sunday Mass. He also took it down on Christmas and Easter. My dad found out that those days were assigned for Jesus and Americans must stand aside for holy days and Sunday.

Christmas Eve, Holy Saturday and every Saturday at sundown the neighbor down the street played “Taps” when he lowered his flag.

Our neighbor was a veteran of the Second World War. He fought for our country and that gave him the honor to fly the big flag down the block.

I rode my bike past that flag every morning to school and back home in the afternoon. I was safe from japs and nazis because of that flag and the man who took meticulous care for it.

On Veterans Day he would have a man play the bagpipe at eleven o’clock in the morning. The neighbors all walked outside and listened. The last song was always “Amazing Grace.”

Tears ran down my father's cheeks when he heard that song. Just like my father, tears run down my cheeks when I hear the John Newton hymn.

Today is the eleventh day of the eleventh month. When we were kids there was a generation that was living that called it Armistice Day. We all know it as Veterans Day.

I learned a poem in high school that I had to memorize for a class. The name of the poem was “In Flanders Field.” In my adult years I’ve begun a tradition to recite that poem on the 11th day of November.

The flagpole no longer stands on the block in my old neighborhood. The traditions held strongly by the Greatest Generation don’t have the same values for the following ages.

Today’s generation fly flags for their local football team, their ancestor’s flag and political statement flags. Kansas City Chief flags, Gay Pride flags and Ukrainian Flags outnumber The Stars and Stripes.

Take the time today to read “Flanders Field.” Take the time to recite “The Pledge of Allegiance” and thank a Veteran for giving you the freedom to fly your Cubs Pride flag.

I’m just a good old Catholic kid who loves the BVM, Christmas movies, ice cream cones, parades, backyard parties, church bells, the Sunday paper, summer dresses, hotdogs, the Army vs Navy football game and White Hen Pantry.

I get to love my kids, walk down the river early in the morning and drive to a good job because The American Soldier and Jesus Christ gave their life so I can live mine.

I also get to put a smile on the sun and flirt with hot moms because of those that I just mentioned.

Go out there and enjoy this fantastic autumn day. Put some love in your crockpot, in your smile and in between your sheets.

…. God Bless America and all the good it stands for.

November 10th, 2023

 It is Friday and the smile is on the sun. I went out last night and I am feeling the pain this morning.

End the week well and enjoy the angle of sunshine and the crisp breeze of November.

I need to take an Alka Seltzer.

November 9th, 2023

 I hadn’t seen my redheads since last Wednesday. I could have sworn they both grew two inches. I’m going to bitch about the time change for the last time…. It was dark forty five minutes after I picked them up.

When I first moved to Riverside, Hazel just turned four. Fritz was eight and George was eleven. From the minute the kids arrived until that painful moment I had to drop them off…. Hazel clung to my every move.

Yesterday when we got back to my home, she went right to her room and did her own thing.

It drove me crazy when she was demanding all of my attention. Now it drives me crazy that she doesn’t.

The leaves aren’t pretty anymore. The beautiful autumn colors are giving way to the grayness of late fall. Football seasons are coming to a climax and frozen turkeys are invading the grocery store.

These next eight weeks can either be glorious or they can be stressful.

I’m going with the former option this year. I’m going to play it by ear and see what the holiday season brings.

The holiday season begins tonight when I meet a group of buddies at the famous Golden Steer. I will look back on today when I’m putting my Christmas tree away on January 3rd and feel great accomplishment and joy. I will already reminisce on the incredible holidays of 2023.

These next eight weeks are going to be great. I’ve declared that I will make them festive and merry. They will be filled with all the traditions and rituals that make the Holidays special.

I might even buy Betty the Green Blazer one of those Rudolph noses for her front grill.

I’m going to score a touchdowns or a try this year. Depending if I play in a TurkeyBowl or Rugby Thanksgiving Cup.

I’m going to mix up the ingredients in the JumboNogs when I decorate my Christmas tree this year.

….and I’m going to buy a menorah and candles for Hanukkah!

I’m celebrating the next eight weeks like It’s the last holiday season I have. Because you just never know.

I put the smile on the sun this morning. So we have that going for us today.

Always remember to be kind and rewind.

November 8th, 2023

 At the dawn of Facebook I had a tradition that I did every November. Each day leading up to Thanksgiving I would write a post about something I was thankful for. It could be anything…. A friend, a meal, an event, a place or an activity.

I haven’t done it the last few years, but that doesn’t mean I’m not thankful.

I have an old friend that is doing it again this year. He has been thankful for his parents, his children, his career and things in his past that brought him great joy.

Yesterday I posted a picture of a bar in the loop that I once frequented. It had more likes than the Chalkboard. It brought back good memories for many people, but for Moskos CJ, it was the subject for what he was thankful for yesterday.

He saw a picture and it brought back stellar memories of his years working in the city.

Two things: Chris, it makes me happy that you are continuing the Thanksgiving tradition….

.….and it also gave me a sense of accomplishment that a picture of Cavanaugh's made you feel fuzzy.

Of all the places we hoisted up lagers in, we never crossed paths in the Monadnock Building. Blame it on trader hours versus banker hours.

If there is something that I’m thankful for this morning, it would be the friendship that I have with a group of guys from the southwest corner of Oak Park…. The Wild Turkeys.

We went from turning twenty one to becoming empty nesters together. So today’s quote is fitting how I feel about all the guys from Maple Avenue and Wisconsin Avenue. It’s a line from a song by a group of brothers made famous in a movie from the late 1970’s.

Today is National Harvey Wallbanger Day. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a Wallbanger, but it’s got to be better than Malort.

Enjoy the humping today and go tell someone that you’re thankful to know them…..

November 7th, 2023

 Just a couple weeks ago I told you guys that I never use a quote from a Democrat. I went back on my rule because I liked this one today. FDR is given credit for the Chalkboard quote.

I guess it’s alright to break my own rule. He WAS the president for like 37 years or so.

I made dinner last night and as I was cleaning up the kitchen I realized that I had to move Betty the Green Blazer. I grabbed my flashlight and moved her to her parking spot. It was 5:45 and I had to use a flashlight.

I’m not ready for these short days just yet. Especially when it feels like a September day.

Now I sound like a complainer.

My Oldman had this saying about complainers.

“People who complain all the time think they live for eternity….”

I never did understand that one. Another dad quote that I never understood was…. “That guy talks like he has a paper asshole!”

I finally asked my dad what the hell that meant and he replied, “the guy is a mealy mouth.”

Why didn’t my dad just call the guy a mealy mouth?

It’s Tuesday… do radio stations still do “two for Tuesday?”

Seems like you always hear “Ruby Tuesday” by the Stones and “In a Daydream” by Freddy Jones today.

It’s like driving through Indiana and a Johnny Cougar song comes on the radio. I’m just entering Hammond and I already have heard “Pink Houses” and “Crumblin’ Down.”

I rarely listen to stations that play those songs. I’ve turned into my Oldman as I’ve gotten older.

I listen to news, jazz, classical, blues and Blackhawk games. Just as long as I don’t turn into a mealy mouth. Could you imagine all that paper for my Shepley booty?

I’m babbling all over this morning. I think it is Election Day somewhere on this first Tuesday of the eleventh month. I’m sure both candidates have paper assholes.

Be kind today and enjoy the 7th of November. Touchdowns are on Tuesdays this month.

Touchdowns on Tuesdays?

When I was a kid I would look at the calendar on the first of the month. I would see what day the 7th, 14th, 21st and 28th all fell on. That gave me an idea what days were what for that month.

Which means that Thanksgiving is on the 23rd this year and Armistice is on a Saturday. That puts Shabbat on the days that have a touchdown and a field goal this month. That would be Friday for you goys…..

Stick with me…. Tomorrow I’ll teach you how to slice butter.

November 6th, 2023

 I missed my mom's last breath by twenty minutes. I talked to my dad for the last time on a zoom call.

Yesterday I went to the hospital to visit my former father in law. Now this man is far from his death bed, he's also far from playing nine holes at Butterfield.

I'm not a betting man, but if I was... I'd bet on the guy who once handed me his daughter's hand to recover. He will be in a golf cart before he goes to a cemetery. He will be at Wrigley Field before he goes to a field of dreams.

You're thinking, "Why the hell is Shepley morbid on a Monday morning?"

I'll tell you why....

I tossed and turned all night thinking about my own mortality. Thinking how absurd the argument on Daylight Savings Time always is when we change the clocks. It's about the only time in our lives that we can change time.

Every November and every March. The same argument, the same chore of going around the house and changing all of the clocks. Don't forget the one in the car either. That one on the dashboard always confuses me. Why can’t I remember how to change it?

Last night at seven o’clock, which was still eight o’clock to me, I was ready to go to bed. I was dozing off watching the hockey game on the television. I had to try and stay up until eight thirty, which was nine thirty.

The Blackhawks were losing 2-1 when I turned the TV off. I had to stay up or I’d be screwed going into the new work week. I went to clean up the kitchen to get me closer to a reasonable time. It took ten minutes.

I went into George’s room to see how he was doing. I’m sure it was traumatic for him to see his PopPop painfully laying in that hospital bed.

“Dad? Do you think Pop will be able to pick me up on Saturdays any time soon!”

I wanted to bullshit George so bad, but I couldn’t.

“Georgie Boy…. Don’t count on it much before the spring. Let’s shoot for Saint Patrick’s Day.”

I could see the disappointment in my son’s eyes. Saturday errands with PopPop is the highlight of George’s week. It’s also the highlight of Pop’s week.

We said a “Hail Mary” together and I assured my son that this too shall pass.

I grabbed a melatonin and a glass of water. I did a quick shot of lemon juice with ginger and Turmeric and headed to bed. It was eight thirty, the new eight thirty.

I turned on a thunderstorm and rain program on Spotify and hoped for the best. I made it until 2:12am, which is still 3:12am to me.

Let’s pray that PopPop sees the leaves bud next spring. How fragile his life was yesterday. How fragile all of our lives are.

Hell of a fucking way to start the first full week of November.

Well…. You Chalkheads know what to do. Start drawing that smile!

November 5th, 2023

 The day we’ve all been dreading has fallen on the calendar. The long dark and cold days of winter are soon upon us.

Today the team that I’ve loved since 1972 is playing the team I’ve liked since 1990. I’m not sure who to root for.

The team that I love has broken my heart over and over again.

The team that I like showers me with Mardi Gras beads and hurricanes.

A year from today we will be voting for the next President of the United States. Have fun picking from the pile of assclowns that are running.

We change the clocks back in 126 days on March 10th. In the meantime, enjoy the TurkeyBowl, have yourself a merry little Christmas and ring in a better year for the world.

Today’s quote is a simple one from Billy Shakes. It comes from his comedy “All’s Well That Ends Well.”

Everyone deserves love. Trust is something you must earn and being kind sure makes things easier.

My Oldman always said, “The two biggest gifts a man can have is the love of a woman and the trust of a child.”

He also said, “Be kind to everyone unless they are an asshole… then just say, ‘Have a nice day asshole!’”

Have a beautiful Sunday and a solid week…. Put the smile on the sun and always use your turn signal.

November 4th, 2023

 Smack dab in the middle of my failing marriage was the death of my mom. I've written several times about the last sixty days of my mom's life. I traveled up and down I-65 many times in the Spring of 2016.

One of the visits towards the end involved a return trip back to Chicago on a Saturday afternoon. I had to get back in time to a charity event for the Shepkid's school.

My mom could see the stress on my face. She asked me if I was alright and how my marriage was going. My mom was laying in her death bed, I didn't need her worrying about her adult son. So I took the liberty of bullshiting her.

"Everything is fine Ma."

She knew me for almost fifty years and she knew when I was full of shit. "You better get out of here Pumpkinhead and go take care of your wife."

It was an unusually quick trip back north on the highway between Indianapolis and Chicago. I arrived home to my awkward living conditions and went straight to the Shepkids for hugs and love. I knew there wasn't love to receive from their mom.

"Hurry up and get ready, the babysitter will be here in ten minutes. You are late!"

I shit, showered and shaved quickly and put on a suit. The babysitter was downstairs and we were out the door. I needed a quick detour before we went to this fucking charity event. So we stopped off at this place called The Wolfshead for a quick cocktail.

I just left my sick mom, drove 180 miles in two and a half hours and was all dressed up sitting with Mary Tudor. I needed at least one bourbon, maybe two.

We walked into the restaurant and noticed a Saint Cletus family having dinner. "Good evening Coach Shepley...."

I stopped and said hello. It was a family that sent three boys through our football program. The youngest was now in high school and he was sitting there with his parents.

I joined my beautiful wife at the bar as she was already having a lipstick stained glass of red wine. I ordered a Jack Daniels on the rocks and started to catch my spouse up on the condition of my mom.

While my wife was half ass listening to my situation, the former Cardinal walked up to us at the bar.

"Pardon me coach. Do you have a moment?"

The young man was now finishing up his senior year of high school. He explained to me that he needed to write an essay so he can receive an Evans Scholar to Purdue.

"Coach.... one thing that you always said to us at Cletus was, 'You can judge a man by the way he finishes his job,' and that always stuck with me....."

He told me that he wrote about his grade school football coach always hammering that phrase into his players. The young man explained in his essay that he will always finish the job and that is why he deserved the Evans Scholar.

"Coach, I thought you should now this and that I will be attending Purdue this fall as an Evans Scholar...."

I suddenly went from feeling sad to being proud. I shook the young Lenz kid's hand and wished him luck.

I really wanted to put my arms around that little son of a bitch and thank him. I wanted to tell him that I hated this lady sitting with me at the bar. I wanted to tell him my mom was dying. I wanted to tell him that his words made his old coach feel much better about life.

When we walked out and passed the Saint Cletus family, I made eye contact with Mister Lenz and softly murmured "Thank You."

My mom died two weeks later and I moved to Riverside the following year. Like most of the kids that went to mass and played football for the Cardinals.... the Lenz kid, now in his twenties is on his path to a successful life.

Because he has his straight F's in life.

F:F,F,F&F

Don't forget to turn back your clocks tonight. Today the sun has a smile!

November 3rd, 2023

   I woke up thinking that it was Saturday before I quickly realized it’s Friday. Couple that with changing the clocks tomorrow night and I’m all turned around.

Today’s quote is from Langston Hughes. The man who began the Harlem Renaissance and promoted the Jazz age.

“Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.”

Waking up and thinking it was Saturday isn’t so bad. Things could always be worse.

Tonight is a perfect night for a bourbon, a cigar, good music and a fire pit.

I don’t have a fire pit.

….and it’s only Friday!?!?!

I’ll be more creative on tomorrow’s Morning Chalkboard.

Be kind to assholes today and put a smile on your sun.

.... And thank you for all the prayers for my father in law. Quadruple bypass and in recovery. The prayers are working. Now let’s hope he can live to see Hazel graduate from college.

November 2nd, 2023

      I was coaching football at my parish in the zero’s into the early teens. I did it at first to hang out with my buddies and get to know people at my new church.

I quickly realized that it was a commitment to the development of young Christian soldiers. It wasn’t just a reason to have meetings with the coaches at the tavern across the street.

It was at Saint Cletus that I began pushing the Straight F’s in life theory.

FOUNDATION: FAITH, FAMILY, FRIENDS and FOOTBALL.

I had to talk with the parents at the beginning of the season to tell them about myself and the Cardinal football program. I told them that our goal was to teach their children how to play football. More importantly, we were going to teach them how to be better sons, students and young men.

Oh and women as well. Sorry Caroline and Riley.

I told them that the practice field was the third important thing on the block. Second was the school and first of all the church. As I pointed to the church I told the parents that we attend eight o’clock mass as a team on gameday.

The parents loved it. Each kid received a football sticker for their helmet. In my book, receiving communion was just as important as a touchdown or sack.

I would also tell the parents that my two biggest coaching idols were Coach Woody Hayes out of Ohio State and Coach Robert Montgomery Knight out of Indiana University.

Two men that I couldn’t hold a candle to, but I loved their passion and mentorship for their players.

Neither one of them ended their careers on a solid note. Both were fired because their passion overloaded their reasons.

Like my idols, I too was forced to leave on a bad note. I didn’t punch a kid from Clemson or grab a point guard by the neck.

I mouthed off on this new thing called social media and Father Assthumb didn’t appreciate my passion for the program.

I had forgotten that the church was the main reason we were all on that football field.

Today’s chalkboard has a Bobby Knight quote. Hopefully the two parents that didn’t like Bobby and Woody attend my funeral.

......and in Coach Knight style.

Mr. Krecheck and Mrs. Frankstone can kiss my ass. (That was very therapeutic this morning and took years to finally get off my chest)

God Speed Coach Knight.

Try not to swear in front of Jesus and his mom.

November 1st, 2023

 Let me be the first one to say it. Can you believe that it is already the first of November?

In a year from now we will be voting for the next President of the United States. Oh how I’m looking forward for that shitshow to come together.

The trend these last few years has been to get through this horrible year.

November 1st of 2020… “I can’t wait to get this year over with!”

November 1st of 2021… “jeez, after last year and Covid, could we just get to 2022?”

November 1st of 2022… “Let’s just get through this year and distance ourselves from the scar that Covid has left behind.”

….And let’s put the needle on the record today.

“Could 2023 and all the war and hate just end?”

I don’t know what the hell it will take to turn things around in 2024. The future doesn’t look very bright right now.

These next two months will bring Christmas Carols and Christmas movies. TurkeyBowls and pecan pie. We will see friends and family and wear ugly sweaters together.

Yesterday I picked up groceries at Aldi and in the fun aisle I found a porcelain Christmas tree. It’s about fifteen inches tall and about eight inches wide at the base. It has ornaments that light up with the aid of three double “a” batteries. It looks like a replica that your grandparents had on their coffee table next to the bowl of Brazilian nuts.

I carefully put my new tree in the back of Betty the Green Blazer and drove home. I carried the fragile decoration up the stairs and set it to the side.

After trick or treat and clean up of the kitchen, I grabbed some batteries from the cupboard and put them in the base of my new Christmas tree. The bulbs had a dim glow and then they didn’t have any glow. It was a $19.95 failure that hopefully doesn’t foreshadow Christmas of 2023.

I’m going to be skeptical next week if Aldi is selling a Menorah. The last thing I want to do is jinx the Festival of Lights. The Jews are having a horrible year and if anyone needs a brighter 2024… it is our Hebrew brothers and sisters.

Whatever shitshow is flinging across the world. Whatever difficult events shadow my doorstep…

I’m still going to listen to George Winston's "December" first thing Thanksgiving morning. I’m still going to go down to Christkindle and drink expensive hot spiced wine. The Shepkids and I will still take our annual trip on the CTA Christmas Train. I’m going to have JumboNog when I put up my Christmas tree. I’m still going to sing “Ave Maria” when I display my Nativity scene and I’m still going to get pissed off when Uncle Billy misplaces the eight thousand bucks.

I will eat a couple pieces of herring on New Years Eve and wish for a good twenty twenty four and be in bed by 10:45pm.

Maybe I should drop some ecstasy on Navy Pier and hangout with Bootsy Collins and George Winston? It worked in 1995 and the rest of the 90’s were incredible. That was the time of my life when I definitely had the funk.

I mean you really got to have that funk! We had the funk!

You gotta have that funk!

You wanna hear about the New Years Eve in the mid nineties?

Let’s just say JumboLove was taking the Lake street CTA train at 3:50 in the morning. I had my arms around white people and black people and we were all singing “Flashlight.”

We didn’t hate each other. We weren’t Republicans and Democrats that morning. We were happy Westsiders wasted away between Pulaski and Ridgeland celebrating the moment.

Maybe we need to celebrate the moment more in 2024?

If you’re in my age group… you’re learning the lesson on how fragile and quick life can be.

2024?

It’s going to be the best WE make it. Let us all enjoy the last two months of 2023 first.

I’m looking for someone to snuggle with and watch “The Bishop’s Wife.” Who wants to get on the Metra and hit the annual Christmas market at Daley Plaza? I’ll buy you a “Tom and Jerry” at Miller’s Pub. Who is organizing the TurkeyBowl or the Scrum and Rucksgiving match?

Let’s blow up the next sixty Days with Joy and Love. Turn off the nightly news and turn on the stereo. Take a walk on a cold December night and look at the lights.

This is the only Thanksgiving, Hanukkah and Christmas we will have in 2023. There will not be any do overs. So eat the dry Turkey and be happy with the underwear and socks from your in laws.

Because all I want for Christmas is you……