September 22, 2011-September 23, 2011

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THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 2011

Around this time each week, I seem to grow tired of pontificating on the nuances of my life, so much so that I wonder why I started this silly little blog in the first place. I mean, after I was laid off, I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone, not even my family. Now I’m sharing the most intimate details of my soul-searching journey with any Tom, Dick or Harry who stumbles upon them. Go figure.

At any rate, I’m not going to talk about myself for the next couple days—I’ll talk about other people. (Sorry, other people.)

I’ll start by talking about my wife. (Sorry, wife.) Cassie’s done the work-at-home thing for a little over a year, and I have no idea how she’s pulled it off without going batshit crazy. Between listening to the kids, doing stuff for the kids and driving the kids from one end of town to the other, it’s nearly impossible to cobble together an uninterrupted day of work.

Just today, for example, Liv was practicing her trombone…in the room next to mine. I laud dear sweet Liv’s commitment to excellence—I honestly do—but after 15 horn-filled minutes, I wanted to stick my head in the oven.

Now I’ll talk more about Liv. (Sorry, Liv.) She had a volleyball match tonight, and although her team didn’t win, she was a model of concentration and determination. This was her best game of the season, and her papa, though concussed from the trombone ordeal, couldn’t have been prouder.

Now I’ll talk about Cole. (Sorry, Cole.) I dropped him off at the Y before Liv’s volleyball game so that he could lift weights with a friend from school. He’s really taken to pumping iron. In a P.E. test at school this week, he bench-pressed 140 pounds 10 times and leg-pressed 500 pounds. For a kid who wasn’t interested in much beyond video games a year ago, he’s developing into quite the ass-kicker.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2011

Now I’ll talk about Sharon, Karen and Sue. (Sorry, ladies.) They all hail from Cassie’s hometown of Cleveland, and they’re coming here today for a visit.

Sharon is the ex-wife of Cassie’s younger brother, Georgie, who died in a motorcycle accident a few years ago. (More on that someday—I don’t have the heart to get into it now.) Karen is married to Cassie’s older brother, Donny. And Sue is a longtime friend of Sharon’s. Apparently, Sue has a shoe-storage room in her house that’s roughly the size of Minneapolis. (Sorry, Sue.)

This is Sharon’s first trip here since Georgie passed. Back in the day, Georgie and Sharon would come all the time. My fondest memory of those visits might be a night Georgie, Sharon, Sue, Cassie and I saw Social Distortion at the House of Blues. We drank a ton and stayed out way too late, and Georgie nearly picked a fight with some poor shlub he mistakenly thought had put his arm around Sharon.

I’m excited to see the folks from Cleveland, but they’re behind schedule, maybe because Sue had to load some extra shoes into the car. (Sorry, Sue.)

Now I’ll talk about Running Still. (Sorry, Still). Running Still is my friend Bennett’s band. It was formed during high school by a drummer everyone affectionately calls DeRo, and it kicked some adolescent ass until everyone grew up and went his separate way.

Enter everyone’s midlife crisis. Eight years ago or so, Still reformed for a high school reunion weekend, and it’s been together ever since. Nevertheless, things are different now—and not just because the band members have less hair and softer bellies. DeRo, the heart and soul of Still, moved to Colorado about a year ago.

Running Still is playing tonight at a golf club near my house, and Cassie, Sharon, Karen, Sue and I plan to go. This will be the first time I’ll see the band with its new lineup.

Yes, things will be different tonight—no Georgie standing next to us with a Budweiser in hand, no DeRo merrily jamming onstage—but we have no choice but to make the best of it. I, for one, plan to make it a kick-ass night.