January 5th, 2024

 I saw this quote and thought about a wedding we were invited to when George was about six months old.

We brought George to the church for the ceremony and had a babysitter lined up later for the dinner.

I was holding Georgie in my arms when we walked into the church. He was fussy and there was no crying room at this parish, so we tried our best to calm him down.

I burped my big boy and seconds later the reason that he was so fussy was stretched across the lapel of my suit coat. My baby boy had an upset tummy and just needed to vomit a light load of curdling milk onto his daddy.

His mom winged a cloth diaper to me and I preceded to clean the white phlegm from my navy suit. I just made it worse and the result was a stain that resembled South America.

I could have changed into another suit, but the wedding and the babysitter’s house were both thirty miles from home. I was stuck with Peru, Argentina and Brazil for the rest of the night.

Through cocktails, dinner and dancing I wore the badge of humility on my lapel. I was awarded the honour of “The Humble Order of Fatherhood” by Prince George.

I have always wanted to be knighted or made a Sir by Queen Elizabeth, but looking back, this had more meaning and was a perfect lesson in humility.

A dried glob of flaky white phlegm was worth more to me than any Grand Cross of Knighthood.

Happy first Friday of January. A Friday that will be dry for many of you Chalkheads. Good Luck!

Enjoy your weekend and stay warm taking down those decorations that we have enjoyed these last six or seven weeks.

Time to go make Baby George his breakfast and lunch… Be kind and humble this weekend.

January 4th Flashback

 2023

If you guessed Old Testament you would be wrong. Today we quote the Englishman Billy Shakes.

It’s been forty one days already since Thanksgiving. These days between Thanksgiving and the beginning of the New Year are always chaotic. Though we gave thanks together several weeks ago, January 4th is also a good day to be thankful.

Today is the Perihelion of Earth’s orbit around the sun. That means the earth is the closest it gets to the sun during the year. It’s always a couple weeks after Winter Solstice.

My mom would celebrate today with a bowl of oatmeal and a huge hug. Both symbolizing warmth….

“Hold close and be thankful for the love in your heart Pumpkinhead!”

Before we know it we will be blowing off fireworks celebrating the Fourth of July. It is also around the same time we celebrate Aphelion. The day the earth is furthest from the sun. That’s when my mom would take me for a soft serve and we’d remember the people who are no longer with us.

My mom loved the sun… every time I hear that Beatles song about the sun I think of my mom. So today have some oatmeal and hug someone you love….

Here comes the sun… do da do do… here comes the sun and I say, it’s alright!

2022

My generation is in the throes of the worst period of history in our lifetime.

Generation X was born during the Vietnam war. Our teeth were cutting during Watergate. Our Pubic hairs started growing during the Iranian Hostage Crisis.

When we finished school and started in the work force the Berlin Wall came Crashing down.

I can keep on going, but this post might look like I’m copying Billy Joel and we didn’t start the fire.

We’ve seen some horrible destruction these last several years.

So our job is to trudge through and bring the best we’ve got to the other side.

I sure as hell don’t know when we will see the other side, but I’m setting a goal.

My goal is the day when I’m putting potting soil in in the planters on my balcony.

I just typed that… looked up at it and thought…. That sounds fucking cheesy. But that’s what

I’m shooting for…. Springtime in Riverside!

When George Harrison starts calling me little darling and tells me the sun is coming… I’ll enter the age of creation.

“Springtime in Riverside!”

I think tonight I’m going to create some spaghetti. Do some laundry and lay low. Because this is the time

of the year to lay low!

2021

Walked out Of my bedroom without the glow of the Christmas tree coming from the living room.

When you are a kid you dread the day dad drags the tree out to the ally. Eleven months seems so far away before we go to the “Y” to get a new one!

When your an adult you know it will be back before you know it!

.....without having the eyes of a child anymore you prefer less clutter in the front window anyway!

Keep the glow of Christmas in your heart as the new work year starts today!

2020

Little snow overnight.... be aware of your surroundings during these trying days!

We have gained eight minutes of daylight the last couple weeks! That’s like eight inches to an Irishman..... come on Patrick and DannyBoy... it’s okay!

2019

It’s Friday! Pacers are in town! Wish I could listen to the game with my Gramma on WIBC!

2018

I’ve got a big button and you’ll burn a fuse up there all alone!

January 4th, 2024

 Back in the last century, Chicago had two classical music stations, WNIB 97.1fm and WFMT 98.7fm. My dad was a NIB guy. He thought that WFMT was the snobby station for the highbrows up in Lake Forest. WNIB was for the “Deeze and Doze” guys like us Shepley’s.

My dad had an old Grundig radio in the kitchen. He would leave it on most of the day and throughout the night set at 97.1fm. He would only change the station for a couple hours in the morning to listen to Wally Phillips on WGN. Later it was Bob Collins.

WNIB didn’t just play Beethoven and Strauss. They had an old black guy on after midnight by the name of Mr. A.

Mr. A in the AM played old R&B and Chicago Blues. You would have never heard that music on the arrogant WFMT.

It was always comforting to hear that radio playing from the other room. It was like a night light that kept the house protected.

WNIB and all of its common man music changed to Classic rock around the millennium. WNIB had been owned by a mom and pop since the 1950’s. It was time to retire and when a big communication system offered them boo coo bucks, they took it.

Leaving my dad only with the haughty station. He adjusted and the radio remained on overnight. No more waking up to Mr. A playing Howling Wolf, but some New England preppie playing Dvorak and Debussy.

We were just a couple deeze and doze guys listening to de-bus-sea after da Y2K.

I know, I know… deh-byoo-see

This morning I woke up a couple times to WFMT playing on my little Grundig in the kitchen. The volume is set around three or four and can be heard faintly throughout my flat.

For me it’s WFMT and WDCB. WDCB 90.9fm plays more jazz and blues. They also have this old time radio program on Saturday afternoons. It was once on WNIB and my dad listened to it religiously. It’s called “Those Were the Days.” It plays old Jack Benny shows and other radio shows from the thirties and nineteen forties. Now my kids are getting to know Fibber McGee and Molly.

After I’m done writing, I’m going to make Georgie’s breakfast and lunch. I use to turn on WGN and listen to the news, but Wally Phillips and Bob Collins are both gone and the news always sucks anyway.

So when I’m making a ham and cheese, I’m listening to Vivaldi.

That little radio next to the stove brings a calmness to the house. It comforts my home and sets the tone for me and the Shepkids. Someday when the Shepkids become old farts, maybe they’ll leave the kitchen radio on overnight?

It is the simple things in life that keep it from becoming a nightmare.

Go get yourself a bowl of spaghetti today. I love a big bowl of pasta and it’s evident by the dimples on my booty cheeks.

I might be eating raman for the next month depending on how much Betty’s doctor bill costs over at Riverside Garage.

She’s worth it, she’s my baby.

I think we have a chance to put the smile on the sun today. Though Skilling is predicting the first major snow storm next week.

Whatever will be will be…. Just go enjoy the first Thursday of 2024.

Betty at Riverside Garage

January 3rd Flashback

 2023:

A mother climbed into an ambulance last night to be with her son. This ambulance wasn’t in a violent neighborhood on the Southside. The mother and hurt son were taken by ambulance from the middle of a football field in Cincinnati.

The football players on the Buffalo Bills watched their teammate collapse on the field, then given emergency CPR and oxygen. Together with the home team Cincinnati Bengals they watched a colleague get carted away in an ambulance.

The game was later canceled with 5:58 left in the first quarter. The football game lost all importance as a twenty four year old kid’s life was hanging by a thread.

We’ve seen games canceled or postponed due to the 9/11 attacks and the Covid epidemic. This was one single game. A game that had a huge impact on the playoffs. A game that suddenly had zero significance.

I don’t think the Smart Phone Society will find a life lesson from last nights football game. They took their praying hand icon and posted it on Twitter. So everything is alright now. More importantly… how does this affect our Betting dot com wagers?

I was sad yesterday when I was taking Christmas tree ornaments down with my son. I didn’t have my nine year old shot while standing on the front stoop. I wasn’t attending a football game that my son had cardiac arrest at. Packing Santa away for eleven months doesn’t seem so bad after all!

Sunday I was pissed because the Bears starting quarterback was jeopardizing his career for a horseshit football team. Monday I was stunned to see a Bills defender make a routine tackle and possibly lose his life. It is unlikely the sixth round draft pick will ever play football again. Bears quarterback, Justin Fields has a game Sunday against the Vikings.

The toughest most well trained athletes in the world can die and the meanest athletes in the world can cry. We saw that on January 2nd, 2023.

The new year has its first major headline. The life of Damar Hamlin…

Instead of thoughts and prayers maybe realizing the fragility of life can finally come to light?

*** Damar Romeyelle Hamlin (born March 24, 1998) is an American football safety for the Buffalo Bills of the National Football League (NFL). He played college football at Pittsburgh.

2022: The first Monday of 2022. The glow from the Christmas tree didn’t brighten my hallway this morning when I woke up. When I arrived at work the Christmas decorations were gone.

Time to get back to the grind.

You know the older I’ve gotten the less I wish. Seems like wishing only gets your hopes up.

I do wish I could win the lottery tonight, but that’s not likely.

So buckle up and let’s get this party started!

2021: Sunday morning finds a light dusting of snow. Home smells like freshly percolated coffee and soon bacon. Tomorrow might be the start of the first week of MMXXI, but I won’t be looking for Unicorns and Lollipop trees. I’ll be looking for clean underwear and socks!

2020: Happy Friday....

2019: I have no clue what day of the week it really is!

2018: It’s Wednesday already! One day closer to spring!

January 3rd, 2024

 Get your sunscreen out… today is Perihelion. This is the day the earth orbits closest to the sun. Grab your bikini and head over to Oak Street beach.

Today’s quote comes from one of the hardest books to read. Here is the full paragraph from which it comes.

“Every life is in many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-love, but always meeting ourselves.”

We can sit here all day and analyze what it means, but we won’t.

It’s Wednesday… the hump will bring us many different angles to adjust to today. Care for every minute with kindness, but most importantly…. Be kind to yourself.

January 2nd Flashback

 2023:

I’ve often used that saying, “God works in strange ways.” Today’s chalkboard makes fun of the old “Blessings are often disguised” quote.

I’m pretty sure God isn’t up in Heaven pushing buttons to shake things up.

Or is he?

“What are you up to today dad?”

“Well Jesus… I think I’m going to push the earthquake button for Chile today, following that up with more starvation in Burkina and I still have the Ukrainian War button on.”

“Sounds like a busy day dad. I probably shouldn’t bother you with small stuff.”

“What do you have for me Jesus? I can get to it when I’m done with this drought in Argentina.”

“Not a big deal, but that John Shepley kid wanted more green lights when he goes to work tomorrow.”

“You got to be shitting me Jesus? Green lights? Shepley has other concerns to pray for and he wants the light to be green at Mannheim road?”

“That’s what he prayed for and something about potholes in Cook County!”

“No green lights for John Shepley and in fact I’m going to push a button to overheat his radiator! I’m going to have his ex wife hound him and I’m going to give him arthritis!”

“Okay Dad, I’m sorry to bother you, but this kid does give Satan a tough time every chance he gets!”

“He does do that Jesus… Shepley loves to piss those pricks in hell off all the time…. Here is what I’ll do. I’ll skip the arthritis, the ex wife and the auto repairs.”

“That’s great dad, but how about the traffic lights on 31st street?”

“No Jesus… the lights are going to be red and I’m going to have a train stop him as well!”

“Why Dad?”

“Because he keeps blaming me for the Chicago Bears losing nine games in a row! I haven't controlled the NFL since they signed that big contract with Amazon!”

The point of the matter is maybe I need to stop asking for big favors. Maybe stop blaming heaven when shit hits the fan? Maybe I should thank heaven more often?

God doesn’t give a crap about the NFC Central standings. He doesn’t send blizzards though I’m sure he questions the “Dibs” theory on Chicago streets when there is a snowstorm.

This is why I’ve been praying to my mom and dad directly. They can filter the stupid shit I pray for and pass along the solid ones.

There are a couple things God sends us on a daily basis… the sunrise, the sunset and political commercials.

2022:

I learned of the passing of a great man on a snowy wintry Saturday afternoon.

So I thought it fitting to quote a line from a Robert Frost poem that pulls nature and death together.

I haven’t seen Steve Ahlrichs in probably 30 years. We graduated high school together. Though it’s been since the Reagan years that our paths crossed I always had good memories of him.

The eight year period that I lived in Indianapolis was the worst time of my life. I didn’t belong there, it wasn’t my home. Though fortunately a few kind people befriended a trouble maker from Chicago. Steve was one of them.

Facebook, the evil end of the world brought us back into contact. It has brought me back with many of my Indianapolis friends….. and that’s a good thing.

I’m not going into the details of who this guy turned out to be… let’s just say he continued to be a kind and gentle man. Just like the kid I met forty years ago at Dear Old Cathedral….

I just said yesterday on the Chalkboard that 2022 will bring the loss of loved ones… I didn’t think it would be so soon.

I’ll attach the whole poem below… a poem Steve and I read in John Young’s class many years ago.

Steve Ahlrichs

2021:

All the shits and giggles... all the champagne and confetti!

All put away!

Time to pull up your big boy and big girl pants and use what we learned in MMXX to defeat MMXXI!

2020:

When I walk on the trading floor today I will mark five decades of employment!

80’s, 90’s, 00’s, 10’s and now 20’s!

It’s been a lifelong run... I was just

A boy that knew it all and overnight I’m shaving my earlobes and plucking my nostrils!

2019:

Alright the parties are over and winter is here without the glow of a Christmas tree!

2018: So today is nine hours and thirteen minutes long! The last day of January will be 10 hours long! Days are getting longer!

January 2nd, 2024

 ...And just like that, it is all over. Six weeks of holiday magic has come and gone. Back to the grind, back to the lackluster.

We have gotten through the “ber” months of September, October, November and December. Which is my favorite time of the year.

Here comes January and February. I look at these two months as the “brr” months. As in, “Brrrrr! It’s fucking cold out here? Where is this train?”

The “ber” months or autumn months have come and gone. From falling leaves and football games all the way up to the champagne hangover.

The “brr” months go from the champagne hangover across the tundra ending at the Westside Saint Patrick’s Day parade. These next two months are usually boring with the exemption of Mardi Gras.

The coldest I’ve ever felt in Chicago has been on train platforms and Soldier Field. Two places that I rarely find myself going anymore.

I stopped taking the train when Covid closed the trading floor. I miss going to work in the city, but I don’t miss that second Monday morning in February when it’s eight below.

I stopped going to Soldier Field when beer prices eclipsed the price I once paid for a ticket to the game. I bought a ticket in November of 1980 for $11.50. I paid $11.50 to watch Walter Payton. Today it costs two hundred buck to watch crap football and the beers are twenty bucks.

Though that game back in 1980 sucked. The Bears lost 10-6 and Payton had a horrible day. I was actually more excited to see Kenny Stabler at quarterback for the Oilers. Kenny Stabler and Walter Payton for $11.50!!!!!

All right, let’s get this new year rolling.

Cold and windy in Chicagoland on this first Tuesday of 2024.

The good news is later sunsets are happening everyday through these brrrrrrrrr months!

January 1st Flashback

 2023:    

My alarm went off at 3:30 this morning and I was still up. So the chalkboard got up later this morning than usual.

Not much to say this morning… so let’s get 2023 rolling!

2022:

Twenty Twenty Two ….. I Don’t have a New Years resolution. I’m not giving up anything or doing anything different.

I’m going to continue to watch my children grow. I’m going to continue my enthusiasm and strong work ethic at my job. I’m going to continue my French kissing and caressing. I’m still going to enjoy hot dogs, listening to my radio shows, rooting for the Sox and pushing my career in hip hop.

I know my car will probably break down. I know I’ll have a horseshit day at work. I know the Shepkids mom will want to battle. I know I’m going to take a wrong turn.

Like Tom Cruise said in “Risky Business”

“You know Bill… there’s one thing I’ve learned through all my years…. Sometimes you gotta say “What the Fuck”….. make your move!”

2022 might not be a great year, but it’s what faces us. Kick it’s ass, make love to it, smear mustard on it, dance horribly in it, sing off key during it, but most importantly…. Take one day at a time and don’t be a dick!

2021:

Today brings a new year and though much outside of our control won’t change, We will!

I’m going to keep simplifying my life and prove to my oldman that I can be a better person!

My resolution is to relax when the stupid fuck doesn’t use his directional!

Also, shake hands, hug and kiss people on both cheeks like the Europeans do!

If you can read this than to some degree I Love You... and I’m going to bust balls to make your life better!

2020:

GROWING is my 2020 word...... together.... happier..... healthier..... older......

It’s a positive word!

2019:

               Happy New Year........... reboot

2018:

                           Let’s get it on in 2018!

January 1st, 2024

 We just added another year to scroll past when we need to add a birthday to an online form.

For Christ sake, it takes ten minutes to scroll to 1966. I usually just end up being born in the late seventies or early eighties.

2023

2022

2021

2020

2019

2018

2017

2016

2015

2014

You get the picture. If I continued this pattern, I’ll miss the rest of the morning.

We all had a decent NYE by looking at the remnants of Facebook posts from last night. I woke up this morning to a dozen text messages wishing me a Happy New Year. Even my ten year old daughter sent me a text.

I was sound asleep and missed the commotion. I celebrated the New Year at 10:37pm when I decided to pack it in. Looks like I’ll be eating both my oranges for breakfast.

How about the famous “They” from the “they say” dialogue on proving a point?

They say whatever you are doing on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s day will set the tone for the rest of the year.

So “They” are telling me I’m going to lounge around in sweats in 2024 and go to bed early every night. At least my kitchen will be clean. “They” say I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night and take a leak in 2024 and “They” say I’m going to wake up alone with a stiff………

…..neck for the rest of the year.

I always wonder who this “They” group is and what makes them so smart. Is it a think tank located in New Hampshire? Maybe a group of Monks in Cedar Falls, Iowa?

Guess what “They”……..

I didn’t wake up naked next to a stranger in an apartment in Wicker Park everyday in 1995, just because I did on January 1st, 1995.

Though I did change diapers everyday in 2007. Because I changed one just before midnight on December 31st, 2006 and I changed another one the next morning.

“They” nailed 2007, but dropped the ball on 1995. I wish “They” could help me remember who that was? I left a great pair of Mardi Gras socks and new boxers shorts at her apartment.

One thing I’m not going to do in 2024 is “do it tomorrow.” I’m going to get it over with and do it today. I’m not going to be so scared of red flags in 2024 either. I was popping red flags on almost everything in 2023.

Probably the reason I spent NYE on the couch in my sweats, I laid low in 2023 and didn’t do much. I ended up Eleanor Rigbying myself.

I am not going to begin some new approach to life today and I didn’t end anything yesterday. I’m just going to continue to be the grateful, gregarious and the magnificent son of a bitch that I’ve morphed into throughout the years.

Happy January 1st all you Chalkheads. Let’s put the smile on the sun and watch shit do stuff in 2024. Let’s pray everyday and tell the devil to fuck himself on a daily routine.

Be kind and spread love, but don’t be apologetic or feel guilty. Be boisterous when the time comes and be attentive when others are being boisterous.

If you have shit bothering you… tell someone!

If you are tired… take a nap!

If you like chocolate eclairs… get one!

If you want to sing a Gloria Gaynor song at open mic night… don’t be petrified, you will survive!

If Earth, Wind and Fire makes you want to dance… go get your groove Travolta!

If you want to wear that outfit, but have second thoughts… put it on and flaunt that fabric baby!

BUTT….. that’s how I show a big but….

….But, if you have opinions on Politics, religion, war, rights, wrongs or Chicago baseball…. Keep your mouth shut!

Opinions are like assholes and we all have the complete set. Most of the time the opinions and assholes stink to high heaven.

My predictions for 2024?

Taylor Swift will dump the tight end. Biden and Trump will not see 2025. The Pope won’t approve married priests. The Cubs and the Sox won’t be playing in the final game of the year. China will come kissing our ass, Women in Iran will burn their hijabs, African children will continue to starve, Richard Nixon will be seen in a different way historically, DC will continue it’s dysfunctional system and Julia Roberts will get a divorce and move to Riverside.

And there I go breaking the first rule for 2024!

Keep your pie hole closed John!

Tits up in ‘24

December 31st, 2023

 I’ve come to the conclusion that 2023 was the year I watched shit do stuff. I observed a few things, but I didn’t really participate. I’m coming out of 2023 unscathed.

I always look at years as sport seasons. A year has twelve months, so it has twelve games. If the year was five hundred, you’d be 6-6. A winning year is 7-5 and a losing year would be 5-7. In 2023 the JumboLove went 8-4.

We could have had a better season, but we lost a couple great players and we have a pesky team in the division. We will need to learn how to go into the next season without those legendary players and change up our game plan for the other teams in the Black and Blue Division.

As for 2024, I think I’m going to wear brown pants everyday. I’m scared shitless of this coming year. The brown pants will cover it up if I crap myself.

Johnny Cash wore black, Prince wore purple and I’m going to wear brown. I had a brown Cadillac in the nineties. It was actually Butt-butter Brown and my Oldman sold it to me for four thousand bucks. You don’t want to hold onto the past, but I’d really love to have the Dadillac parked next to Betty the Green Blazer.

(I just did the old erasing of several horrible paragraphs.)

Here is what I’m going with….

I’m going to celebrate a winning season tonight. I’m going to toast the players we have lost and welcome the new players that we’ve picked up this year. I’m going to look at every loss and see what I’ve gained from them.

I’m going to eat an orange before midnight and an orange afterwards. In the morning I’m going to take a third orange and toss it in the river. I’m calling this my “Three oranges that end and begin.”

The first orange cleanses 2023 from my body, the second orange cleanses my mind and soul for 2024 and the third orange symbolizes something that I haven’t figured out yet.

I just want to write “2023” and “2024” on an orange with a Sharpie and see how far I can chuck it down the river. I probably shouldn’t use the Sharpie. That defeats the whole getting in tune with nature part of this new orange tradition.

Maybe I should buy more oranges and include the morning mimosa in this “Three Oranges” deal?

Call it the “Cleansing of the nine oranges.”

Let’s all end and begin the year with some vitamin c…

…wash away the 2023 season and feel fresh for the 2024 season.

Don’t hand off the ball so much and blitz on every down.

Happy New Year Chalkheads.

December 30th, 2023

 There is so much that I can chalk about on this last Saturday in 2023. The glow of a Christmas tree after Christmas. The importance of Angel Numbers popping up throughout the day. The smell of bacon baking in the oven.

Five days after Christmas and my tree meets me for the last morning. The sparkling lights don’t have that magic they possess before and on Christmas. At least for me.

I woke up at 2:21 this morning. One minute before my mom’s Angel Number. I closed my eyes for a second so that I can open them back up on the number. When I opened them back up it was 2:23. I fell back asleep thinking, “Nice job dipshit! You completely missed 2:22!”

Oh, the glorious smell of bacon filling the kitchen before the sun breaks the surface. Making Bacon is a close second to making love. The only difference is… you don’t want to make bacon when you’re naked. The splatter during love is much safer than the splatter from cooking bacon.

This would be considered a jibber jabber chalkboard. No colorful insight. No memory filled stories. Just sweeping out the sheds of the clutter collected overnight.

I’m thinking about tomorrow’s last Chalkboard for 2023. I’m scared shitless of 2024. Not just because the world is a dumpster fire. I’m scared of coincidence and symbolism that it will bring towards me. I fear a wave of Deja vu hitting my shores and I worry of the catching up of the things packed away.

Get up and stretch it out. Enjoy the remnants of the old year. There is a grin today on the orange orb.

Get your self a slice of bacon and a cup of coffee. Since it’s the New Years weekend… maybe put a little love in your coffee mug?