2025-11-24

 If you're not having fun you're doing it wrong.

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What's fun is 

I don't know anymore.

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I remember when I finally realized I wasn't immortal anymore. Running down the subway stairs on 42nd to Penn Station, wanting to make that train. Sidewalks were fine, but holy smokes were the steps down a mess. And I took that fall, reflexes worked for me and I was able to grab the rail inches before my head hit the step. I gathered myself, and then had that NYC moment where I looked around and there was no one ahead of me, behind me, or even on the street just barely above me. 

I caught that train back to L.I., amazingly. 

It was the day after Thanksgiving, the day after I turned 42. 

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When I was a kid, I loved how my birthday would fall on Turkey Day every six to seven years. "Everybody is celebrating my birthday!!!"

No offense to my SIL, but I never needed family and folk over when I was there for Thanksgiving back in 2011, when my birthday was the same day. It's embarrassing at this point in life. In 2011 I was only 36, so at least there's that insignificant year. I'm lucky that it's gonna be about two years (if I looked it up properly) before it's on a national holiday again.

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It's a stupid day. Birthdays. We celebrate them endlessly when younger. They become milestones as we get older, but why? Reflection? Wondering what we've done with that previous year? Hope for that new year, that in my case comes a mere six to seven weeks later? Just another notch on our belt? Who cares?

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I'm listening to random songs on my Late Nite mix on YouTube. I wish I could remember what I was listening to on November 23, 2005. 

I know I held her hand. We met at the bar, I was in town just for Thanksgiving. My chef invited me, and retrospect makes me wonder if I would have been better off going to my Corporate Chef's invite with just his family. Regardless, we met at the bar, house party afterwards, and then just her and I talking on the front porch. Snow on the ground, it started to flurry as we talked. 

"Your hand is so cold."

All I could do was look at the the streetlights. 

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In thinking about that life, twenty years ago, even despite that breakup two to three years later, that remains the worst and hardest day. Not So Fun Fact: I was in town just to do Turkey Day with my old chef and folk. Never made mention of any of this, let alone that it was my 30th birthday. I have a vague recollection of picking up a pie at the Giant Eagle on my way to her place. I also drank too much wine and passed out on the ottoman in her living room. Was back on the road at 7 p.m. and drove twelve solid hours to Madison, WI. I slept for an hour in the parking lot because I was back in at 8 a.m. Friday morning. 

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What a stupid life I've lived.

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Been typing this out since 11:56 p.m. last night. Tired. It's all so exhausting. Everything. 

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I was 

Tuesday 2026-13-01

 The "It's Still Fun" Edition

It's been a while. I'm siting on my couch, flurries outside the deck door window tell me either coldness or another day of mid-30's. But who cares about the weather.

I'm being a sad sack, listening to all the greatest hits of how Jer is feeling at his lowest. I was gonna just play both of Transatlancism and Plans back to back but figured that would be overkill for a guy who just hit 50. 

50.

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I ignored that number when I was scratching out my love letter to my parents for their 60th anniversary in 2024. I was 48 when I wrote all it down, scribbling notes from my laptop onto paper so I could send it, fingers crossed, overnight to them, my writing, my letters, my learning from them, the twenty years of life lived and loved with them, all my love. 

I was 48, only weeks from 49. I was scribbling, wanting printers to work. I ran back and forth and finally realized that I just had to do it the old way:  Use pen and paper.

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Our postmaster (postmistress?) was not happy with me. I kept changing how I wanted it delivered. We got it settled, it went, and my folk got it.

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I'm 50.

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I know. Get over it. We all get older. Die. Shit happens. What hurts is that this is the first time in my life where if family dies, I really have no way to get there. I couldn't make my parents 60th anniversary. How grateful is this then 48 year old kid. 

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Be good kids.