The Covid-19 Diaries; Vol. 7

I ran five miles yesterday, mid-morning, and felt pretty good.  Not great, not yet, but pretty damn good.  It as a beautiful Sunday morning - temperature in the low to mid-40's - and it was just good to be out there running again.  Having running taken away from me, even for a relatively brief time, makes me appreciate it more.

After I finished my run, it was off to D-bats for a practice w/Joe's team from 1 - 3 p.m.  J.P. tagged along, too.  He hit in the cage and helped with practice.  It was great to be back out with the boys, running around, after being out of circulation for a couple of weeks.  Same feeling as the run, in some ways.  I appreciated having that time with J.P. and Joe yesterday afternoon after spending a good 10 days in relative isolation.

Working with Joe and his teammates, one-on-one, in the batting cage.  First, instructing them as they hit off the tee, and then soft toss, that's what I love.  Having a chance to interact with those boys individually, even if it's only for 10 minutes, really give me a chance to get to know them.  I attribute a lot of the cohesiveness of J.P.'s Dodgers to those one-on-one interactions over the years with me, or other coaches, like Randy or Chris.  

After practice, Joe rode with Oliver (aka Coach O) to an agilities workout at MBA that Thomas McDaniel had organized.  Last year, in the height of the pandemic, Thomas hosted similar workouts at D-1 in Franklin as a way for the boys, and girls, to get out of house and get some exercise.  He's resurrected the idea this winter and while it makes for a busy Sunday, Joe enjoys it.  

On my way home, I dropped J.P. off at Cecil's house to hang out for a while and watch the AFC and NFC Championship games.  Bengals!?!  Joe Burrow = Joe Brrrrr, one cool customer.  Rams over 49ers with a late rally in the second game.

The biggest news of the weekend for me, though, was testing negative for Covid-19 Sunday evening.  Now, I'm officially back in circulation, which is good since I am scheduled to mediate Tuesday and Wednesday of this week.    

Back to it and back at it, for sure.

The Covid-19 Diaries; Vol. 6

After what seems an eternity, I am back in circulation.

Although I tested positive for Covid-19 again, on Thursday afternoon, Friday Morning marked the 11th day since I first experienced symptoms.  Since I feel fine and have only a lingering, occasional cough, I went back to work on Friday and had my first two, lengthy, in person meetings since I initially got sick.

I stopped for coffee at Honest Coffee Roasters in the Factory, in Franklin, on my way in, and made a couple of calls.  As I sat in one of the chairs in front, open area, a young, hipster couple walked up and, without asking, sat down a chair away from me.  No effort whatsoever to socially distance from in spite of the fact that there were plenty of other places to sit.

I stared at them incredulously, then smiled.  "I'm not getting Covid-19," I thought.  "But you might."  I made sure to breathe a little more deeply than normal on the outside chance I was still contagious and could teach them a lesson.

As I've told several people, now I have the strength of 10 men.  

Vaccinated, twice.  Boosted.  And now I've survived Covid-19.  Bullet proof, at least as it relates to the virus.  Delta?  Omicron?  Bring it on.

This weekends, I am going to find a Turkish bathhouse and sit, naked, cheek to cheek, with a bunch of old,  sweaty, fat men.  We're going to drink vodka, sing Russian songs, and enthusiastically debate politics.  

From there, I am doing straight to Cici's Pizza, the only all day, every day pizza buffet still in existence in middle Tennessee.  When I arrive, I am going to sit down at a table with a family of complete strangers and eat half-eaten sliced of pizza off of their children's plate.  I am going to drink after one or both of the parents, without asking.  

After I finish eating at Cici's or when the manager kicks me out - whichever comes first - I am going to Lower Broadway in downtown Nashville.  There, I am going into the first saloon I come to named after a "C" list or washed up country music star - A.J.'s Good Time Bar (Alan Jackson), for example - and I am going sit at the bar, in the middle of a bunch of fat, midwestern tourists.  With our arms around each others, swilling draft beer our of ice cold mugs, we'll sing "I've Got Friends in Low Places," by Garth Brooks, unmasked.  

I will be unmasked because I have the strength - and immunity - of 10 men.  They will be unmasked, and unvaccinated, because they are ignorant, clueless rednecks who don't know any better or whose brains have been lobotomized by watching future president for the United States, Sean Hannity, on Fox News night after night after night.

That's what my weekend will look like.  How about yours?

The Covid Diaries; Vol. 5

Other than a lingering cough and drainage, I'm feeling much better.  Even when I felt my worst, I realized that so many people were so much worse off than me.  It's clear to me that what I sent through the first part of last week was nothing compared to the experience others have had with Covid-19.

Still, to be safe, I'm continuing to isolate in the house, and to be perfectly honest and more than a little selfish, it's not all bad.

Why?  For the first time in, well, forever, I have no responsibility for anyone in the house other than myself.  I'm on my own schedule.  I go to bed when I want to and I get up when I want to.  Truth be told, though, my schedule has become more regular now that I'm working full bore from home.

Since my appetite has returned, I get take out from wherever I want, for only me.  I can't and shouldn't handle food for Jude and the boys and I stay out of the kitchen except for brief pass throughs.  Last night, I had Amerigo.  The night before, 12South Tap Room.  I've also had dinner from Grilled Cheeserie and Epice.  Smiling Elephant.  Mine.  All mine. 

I watch what I want to watch on television or on my iPad.  Granted, not in the den on our 56' flat screen with surround sound, but still.  Undisturbed, I binged all three seasons of Ricky Gervais's "After Life" over four nights.  If I want to watch an NBA game, I watch an NBA game.  If I want to work after dinner, I work after dinner.  I've read two books and am well into a third and fourth book. 

Undisturbed.  No knocks on my office door.  Only silence. 

A friend of mine suggested I should be isolating in Monteagle.  Now, there's an idea.   

The Covid-19 Diaries; Vol. 4

After another good night's sleep, I find myself, mid-morning, sitting alone in a low to the floor, beat up, brown easy chair at the end of the hall at L & L Market on Charlotte Avenue in West Nashville.  I'm sitting away from everyone, so I'm not worried about giving them Covid-19, if I'm still contagious.

The din of voicers being me is comforting.  It reminds me of the mornings at the Factory in Franklin, answering e-mails, making client calls, or reviewing and revising client documents.  It sounds . . . normal, and that's where I want to be.  

I'm going to take a Covid-19 test later today.  If it's negative, I'll return to the office tomorrow, at least for part of the day.  I would love to help coach at Joe's basketball practice this evening, too.  Secretly, even if I test positive, I'm considering going for a three mile run this afternoon.  

Knowing me all too well, my sister, Tracy, discouraged me from trying to run two or three days ago.  She remembered, correctly, that in my younger days I often ran when I was sick in an effort to flush a lingering illness out of my system.  I did think, then - and maybe still do, now - that a couple of difficult runs with coughing, spitting, and struggling helped my body return to normal sooner after a sinus infection or cold.  

Covid-19 is probably a different deal, though.  What I don't want is a setback the knocks me out for a few more days.  Perhaps I'll try to walk a couple of miles rather than running.  

As I've begun to feel better the last few days, I've appreciated the down time at home.  I plowed through Ann Patchett's book of essays, "These Precious Days," which was exquisitely written.  I'm a few minutes from finishing David Sedaris's collection of essays, "The Best of Me," which I've devoured the past few days.  Such a unique voice.  

Ann Patchett and David Sedaris are similar, yet different in their descriptions of their lives and their family's lives.  Brutally honest, both of them.  It's easy to see why both of them are members of the American Academy of Arts and Letters.  

I binged the last season - number seven - of "Bosch" on Amazon Prime, which I'd been meaning to get to but hadn't set aside the time.  Enjoyable, as always.  

I also rewatched "Stripes" (1981), with Bill Murray and Harold Ramis, beginning at 2 a.m. on day 2 or 3, and finishing it when I woke up the next morning.  Why?  No idea, other than the fact that Bill Simmons had done a Rewatchables podcast about it a few months ago and it piqued my interest.  Would I have gotten around to it if I hadn't been sick and isolating?  Nope.

Last night, I finished the third and final season of "After Life," the series written and directed by Ricky Gervais.  I binged it, too, watching 18 episodes in four days.  It was tremendous, resonating with me on several levels.

Certainly, I'm no more of a television critic than and I a wine connoisseur.  But, as with wine, I know what I like, or love.  And I loved "After Life."  Perfectly cast - much like "Catastrophe" from a few years ago with Sharon Horgan and Rob Delaney - well written, smart, funny, and poignant.  It was brilliant, or lovely, as the English say. 

When all is said and done, I think that's what I'll remember about my Covid-19 trip - the week I spent with Ann Patchett, David Sedaris, and Ricky Gervais.  That's not a bad crew to isolate with, if you have to isolate. 

The Covid-19 Diaries; Vol. 3

I think - and I hope - that I am on the downhill side of Covid-19.  

It's Sunday morning, which I'm counting as day six of my trip down Omicron Lane.  I am still a little congested.  Fortunately, the soar throat seems to be subsiding a bit but not completely, as I still have post-nasal drip, whatever in the hell that means.  For the first time, I'm developing a bit of a cough, though.  

I slept pretty well last night.  Stringing together consecutive nights of solid sleep has been critical to my continuing recovery, I think.  Hopefully, that continues.  

From where I was, say, five days ago to now, it's huge overall improvement in terms of how I feel.  I can handle a little congestion, a bit of a sore throat, and a slight cough if I feel like I am truly on the mend.  That's especially true if I can sleep at night.

As I wrote previously, I felt a tickle in the back of my throat on Monday evening, after my run.  Perhaps because I run a lot but I tend to be hyper aware of how I feel, physically, so I notice it when a cold or allergies are on the horizon.  I had a bad feeling about what was going when I felt the tickle in the back of my throat given that the Omicron variant was roaring through Tennessee like an out of control California wildfire consuming everything in its path.  After almost two years of eluding the Coronavirus, deep down, I knew it had caught me.

Early Tuesday morning, about 1 p.m., I woke up with my entire body aching.  I couldn't go back to sleep.  After a few minutes, I grabbed my pillows and headed for the guest room.  Once in bed again, I shivered all night and tossed and turned, unable to sleep.  I probably had a fever.  I certainly had the chills.  My shoulders, my low back, my hips and, really, all of my legs ached.  I couldn't get comfortable.  By the time I got up Tuesday morning, I had a terrible headache, too.

When I took a Cue Health home test, as expected, I tested positive for Covid-19.  And away I went, all up in it.  I had Medical House Calls come to the house and administer a PCR test.  The results - which I got on Wednesday - also indicated I tested positive for Covid-19.

Physically, Tuesday and Wednesday were rough.  I was cold all of the time, so I wore long johns and layered a t-shirt underneath a sweatshirt, with wool hiking socks to keep my feet warm.  In bed, I lay covered with a sheet, a bedspread, a quilt, and a winter blanket.  My body continued to ache, night and day, and the headache came and went.  I was congested and had a runny nose.  It was almost like combining cold symptoms with the flu.  Almost.

The body aches began to subside by Thursday, I think, but that's when the sore throat started.  It was particularly bad Thursday night and I had difficulty getting any sleep at all.  For the next couple of days, my throat stayed soar, worse at night than in the daytime.  I tried to go for a walk in the neighborhood each day.  When I walked to Portland Brew on Thursday afternoon, I was so tired and my low back hurt so much, I had to stop and sit down for a while.  

Fortunately, by Friday and Saturday, my throat began to feel less sore.  I was still congested and blowing my nose a lot but, overall, I began to feel better.  I tired easily but it seems like I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, as they say.

This evening or maybe tomorrow (Monday) morning, I am going to test again.  I am curious about the timeline.  When will I test negative?  When will I feel comfortable returning to work?  To be determined.  

The Covid-19 Diaries; Vol. 2

More than most, I am by, my very nature, a social creature.  I want and need to be active.  I want to be out.  Running, alone or with J.P.  Getting coffee.  Having a drink and talking to a friendly bartender.  Attending the boys' basketball games.  Coaching Joe's basketball team.  Coaching baseball.  Taking the boys to D-bats for a baseball workout.  Going with the family to a Belmont basketball game.  I like to be on the go.    

I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, a sit around the house person. 

For the past five days, that's exactly what I've done for the most part.  Sit around the house.  

There are times I need solitude, for sure.  But not forced, extended solitude.  I've realized forced solitude is an entirely different animal from chosen solitude. 

I like to be alone on Saturday or Sunday mornings for an hour or so, before everyone at home is up and about.  I drink my coffee and I write.  When I get home, though, I don't sit down for longer than a half hour the rest of the day.  It's go, go, go!

I like to run alone, too.  That's chosen solitude.  Alone with my thoughts as I run.  I need that time to decompress.   

Interaction with people, personally and professionally, for me is like sunshine to a flower.  Without it, I won't flourish and I won't grow.  I'll wither and die.  I'm uncomfortable with extended periods of time of little or no social interaction. 

Truth be told, even this week I was in regular touch with the office.  Unwisely, for sure, I worked quite a bit Tuesday and Wednesday, when I probably felt the worst.  I had too, though, as I had two cases that were on the verge of settling, including one that was set for a three day trial the first week of February.  Probably, I should have been resting, but with my legal assistant out with Covid-19, too, and my paralegal on vacation, I needed to be engaged to wrap those two cases up as best I could.  

The hardest part, though, has been isolating from my family.  I've felt like a ghost in my house.  Through the closed guest room door, or the closed door of my office, I hear J.P. and Joe talking and laughing.  I hear life going on, seemingly without me in it.  I missed two of J.P.'s basketball games and, today, I'm missing two of Joe's basketball games.  Being away from my family has been harder than being sick.  

Maybe the lesson is to appreciate the time with my family more.  Making J.P.'s breakfast every day and taking one of the boys to school.  Dinner with the family.  Watching NBA or NFL games on television with the boys.  Playing hearts with the family.  Watching WWE with Joe.  

Maybe the lesson is to appreciate life more.  All of it.  Family.  Home.  Work.  Running.  Friendship.

I ran from Covid-19 for so long.  It caught me.  Now, I'm ready to run from it again for a while.   

The Covid-19 Diaries; Vol.1

After almost two years of running away from Covid-19, it finally caught up with me. 

Monday evening, after a long but productive afternoon in an informal settlement conference, I decided to go for a run after I got home.  It already was dark and cold, but Monday is mileage day, and really wanted to get a run in before dinner.  So, off I went.

As is so often the case when I have to talk myself into a run, I ended up having a great one.  30 degrees but a beautiful winter night in Nashville.  I felt strong and ran a good pace, right at 8:00/mile.  My original plan was to run three miles but I felt good and decided to run four miles.  Up Fairfax to West End, then down Blakemore to Hillsboro Village and home.  By the time I finished, I was warm and even walked a few extra blocks, listening to a podcast, while I cooled down.  

When I walked in the house, I told Jude and the boys that the run reminded me that winter night runs are my favorite runs.  

Later that night, before bed, I felt a tickle in the back of my throat.  Weird, I thought but probably nothing to worry about.  Jude and I went to bed and about 1 a.m., I woke up, feeling restless and achy.  Now, I was concerned, so I got up, grabbled my pillows, and walked into the front of the house and the guest room to sleep.

I didn't sleep, though.  I just laid in the bed in the guest room for the rest of the night, tossing and turning, with my body aching.  I was so cold I finally got up and put on long johns and wool socks.  I dozed fitfully in the morning, then got up and gave myself a Covid-19 test.

Positive.

I wasn't surprised but I was very, very disappointed.  I'm got my first and second vaccinations as soon as they were available.  I got the booster, too.  For the most part, I've been very careful to socially distance.  I don't go to restaurants, church, or Predators' games.  

Now, I do go to Belmont games but, usually, the crowd is small enough that I'm not worried.  The Belmont-Murray St. game was more crowded, though.  Also, I spend extended periods of time in conference rooms with people during mediations and client meetings.  There is just now way around that.  

So, how did I get it?  I guess I'll never know for sure but can tell you this, for certain - having Covid-19 is not fun.  I've felt like shit the past three days with no improvement.  If anything, each day has been a little bit worse.  

I've heard it's likely to last three or four days.  I've also heard, from a friend, that he wasn't better for eight to ten days.  

Time will tell.  For now, though, there's nothing to do but ride it out.

Barbara Haynes

She took her coffee straight and her whiskey black.

That's how Campbell Haynes described his grandmother, the Honorable Barbara Haynes, who died at home yesterday morning at 84.  No could say it any better.

Before she was anything else, Judge Haynes was a wife, a mother, a grandmother, and a friend to many, including me.  

Somehow, she also found the time to be a mentor to her law clerks, like my wife, Jude; an advocate for those who needed advocacy; a strong Democrat and a politician in the very best sense of the term; a pioneer and role model for female lawyers; a loyal Tennessee Volunteer fan; and a friend and confidante to many, many people.

She was everything.

Judge Haynes was the first female General Sessions Judge in Davidson County.  Later, when I first met her, she had moved across the street and was the Third Circuit Court Judge, where she served for more than 20 years.  In 1993 or 1994, mentor, Steve Cox, introduced me to Judge Haynes, when we spent the day with her in a judicial settlement conference in her office.  While she and Steve smoked cigarettes tougher - yes, it was a different time, then - I just sat in her chambers and listened to the two of them.  Was  Telling jokes, laughing, talking about Tennessee football, and, occasionally, discussing the case at hand. 

Judge Haynes settled that case, of course.  She made it all look so easy.  There were multiple lawyers in the case, as I recall, and a plaintiff with serious injuries.  In other words, there were a lot of moving parts, not the least of which were the egos of the lawyers and the personality of a difficult young defense lawyer (who shall remain nameless) who treated the formidable plaintiff's lawyer, Gayle Malone, with disdain and disrespect.  Judge Haynes navigated those waters with confidence and aplomb and after a full day, we left with a settlement in hand, ready to move on to the next thing.

As I think about it this morning, with Judge Haynes, I likely wouldn't have met Jude and there would be no J.P. and Joe.  In fact, this blog might not even exist.

Jude clerked for Judge Haynes.  She was one of her "junior judges," a small cadre of female lawyers who worked as law clerks for Judge Haynes for a year or two, right out of law school.  Judge Haynes mentored those young ladies when they worked for her.  She taught them how to practice law and so much more.  

I suspect Judge Haynes also taught them how to be wives and mothers, while also building and maintaining successful legal careers.  I know she taught her daughter and my friend, Mandy Haynes Young, the same lesson, because that's exactly what Mandy has done.  And that's what Lee Anne, Jude, Marianne, Mira have done, as well.

I met Jude - actually, I first laid eyes on Jude - in Judge Haynes' courtroom.  I talked to her the first time, I'm sure, waiting outside Judge Haynes' office to see her about a case.  Somehow, I learned that Jude had been on Wheel of Fortune - another story entirely - and while she was working for Judge Haynes, I called her "the lovely Jude White," paying homage to the lovely Vanna White on Wheel of Fortune.  It was my little joke.

Judge Haynes' impact on her law clerks lives - personal and professional - didn't end when they left her, though.  She helped them find their first jobs in the legal profession.  And, later, she kept tabs on them and helped them find second and third jobs, until they landed where they needed to be.  Always there with a word or two of advice, personal or professional, Judge Haynes' impact and influence on these ladies continued long after their tenure with her ended.  

Later, after Jude and I were married and my Mark Puryear and I had established our law practice in Franklin, I often stopped by to see Judge Haynes when I was in court in Nashville.  Without fail, when I showed up before court or when she was on a break, she ushered me into her chambers and told me to sit down.  

Judge Haynes was one of those rare people with the innate ability make you feel like you were the only person in the world when she focused her attention on you and that what you had to say mattered.  When I talked, she got quiet, and listened intently to whatever it was that I was saying.  And then, of course, I listen to what she said in response.    

So, of course, I sat, and we talked about Jude first, the boys, my law practice, and always, the Tennessee Vols.  

"How is Jude?"  Judge Haynes would ask.  "Is she happy at work?  I've been thinking about her and where she needs to be.  Vanderbilt Children's Hospital?  State government?  I might make some calls.  Tell her to come see me if she needs to talk to me."  

There are people in this world - too few of them I'm afraid - whose light shines so brightly that just to be in it for few moments is to be warmed by it.  That was Judge Haynes.  Perhaps her greatest gift - to me and to all of us - is that she was her willingness to generously share her light.  Always and without fail.  

I left every interaction with Judge Haynes happier than I was when I walked in to see her.  Happier to be a husband, a father, and to be a lawyer.  I don't know that there has been anyone else in my life about whom I can say that.  

And I know - I mean, I really know - that there are hundreds of people that feel the same way.

Over the years, I realized that part of why Judge Haynes meant so much to me was that she reminded me  of my mother.  For sure, they were cut from the same cloth.  In many ways, she was the Tennessee Vols version of my Vanderbilt mother.  

Both of them came from humble beginnings.  Both of them were educated at a time when many women were not.  Both of them were smokers, particularly early on.  Both of them loved sports.  Both of them were hilariously funny and loved to laugh.  And, above all else, both of them loved their families fiercely.

Rest In Peace, Judge Haynes.  

https://www.tennessean.com/obituaries/ten217225

The Power of Positive Thinking

I didn't make any New Year's resolutions.  No lists.  No promises to myself.  No grand statements or gestures.

I did, however, decide I wanted my outlook on life - the little things and the big things - to be more positive.  

Relentlessly positive.

That's the phrase I stole from a recent read of Seth Wickerham's book, "It's Better to Be Feared."  A well sourced and very good book, by the way, about the nearly 20 years Tom Brady, Bill Belichick, and Bob Kraft spent together with the New England Patriots.  While I am not a Patriots fan by any stretch, I am a fan of professional football and especially of the history of the game.  And, at least in recent years, the history of the NFL cannot be written without spending a significant amount of time on the Patriots. 

To be sure, Tom Brady is a strange person in many ways.  Eccentric, even.  However, he's also managed to sustain excellence in his play for longer than any NFL quarterback in history and, at 44, he shows no real signs of slowing down.  Like so many other sports fans, I've found myself wondering how he does it.  What is his secret?  

Pliability?  I guess, from a physical standpoint.  Drinking water, water, and more water.  Diet.  That's a given.  Maybe Brady won the genetic lottery.

What I've spent more time thinking about, though, is Brady's mental approach to his craft, to his life.  I'm not as interested in anything. Brady has written or the "Tom vs. Time" series or "Man in the Arena," because all of that, to me, is packaged content, produced by Tom Brady or largely influenced by him.  

Seth Wichersham is an investigative journalist and a damn good one.  He wrote the book without contributions from Brady, Belichick, or Kraft.  Instead, he sourced it with hours upon hours of interviews and research.  Real journalism, the old fashioned way.  Remember when that was a thing?  I do.  

That's a long way of saying that I was interested in what Wickersham reported about Brady's mental approach rather than what Brady said about it in content he was involved in producing.  

What I learned Tom Brady has, almost always, a positive attitude about his work and his life.  All optimism and very little, if any, pessimism.  

Relentlessly positive. 

Sure, he takes losses and failures of any kind hard.  He's extraordinarily competitive, as are all of the great ones.  Jordan, Kobe, etc.  But his emotional makeup and his attitude is always positive and upbeat.

In my life, I tend to drift toward pessimism.  In a thinly veiled effort to convince myself I'm not a pessimist, I claim to be a realist.  While I'm most often in a good mood, outgoing, and able to make those around me smile and laugh, on the inside, I often expect the worst.  I want to change - or try to change - that aspect of my personality, not for anyone else, necessarily, but for me.

I think and I hope that being relentlessly positive will help me be more present, in the moment.  I hope it will help me appreciate, more, the little things in life, and not to sweat the everyday irritants.  A takeout meal the restaurant screws up.  A mistake by my staff or attorneys at work.  A difficult lawyer in a case on which I'm working.  

I also hope that having a relentlessly positive outlook gives me a better sense of perspective on what matters and what doesn't, at home and at work.  I hope it gives me more patience, because that's something I feel like I need, also at home and at work.

Lastly, I hope being relentlessly positive helps me worry less about the future and what is to come.  About the health, safety, and well being of my family and mine, too.  I hope it makes me less afraid that I will get sick or that growing older is such a frightening thing.

So, that's the deal for 2022.  I want to be more optimistic.  I want to approach life with a positive attitude.

Relentlessly positive. 

And why wouldn't I, with this family?

  

Snow Day and Belmont Basketball

For once, the weather forecast was spot on.  As predicted, it started snowing between 8 and 9 a.m. this morning and didn't stop until late this afternoon, by which time we had five or six inches on the ground.  

Last night, MBA and USN made the early call and canceled school for today.  The boys, of course, were tickled to death, as they rarely are out of school for snow.  Better yet, they're both out of school tomorrow, too, as it's not going to get above freezing tomorrow.  Truth be told, with the omicron variant raging, I am kind of glad they're not in school right now, immediately following Christmas vacation.  

Jude and I worked from home today, off an on.  I took a walk down 12th Avenue early this afternoon, while it was still snowing, just to see what was open.  By 1 p.m., everything but Edley's had closed for the day.  It was different, to be sure, to have a work call - AirPods in - as I walked down 12th Avenue in the falling snow.  I had hoped to grab a second cup of coffee from Portland Brew before I walked back home but, no luck, as they shut it down at noon.

By tonight, we were all going stir crazy, so we were excited that the Belmont men's basketball game vs. Southeast Missouri State was still on.  Jude made the boys grilled cheese sandwiches and about 6:45 p.m., we trudged up 15th Street in the snow and ice, as we walked to the Curb Center for the game.  Being able to walk to Belmont basketball games from our house is one of the coolest things about where we live.  

Earlier today, I had talked to Scott Corley, Belmont's athletic director, so I knew they were running a skeleton crew at the game.  He'a a close friend of mine from high school.  Scott's brother, Mike, and I were roommates in college and fraternity brothers.  No concession stands.  Managers running the scoreboard.  A promotions guy working as the public address announcer.  Probably less than 50 fans in the gym.

And, you know what, we loved every minute of the game, a 40 + point Belmont win.  For most of the game, the boys sat in the court side seats while Jude and I stayed in our regular seats.  The boys were almost directly across from us, so Jude and I were able to see one of the referees talking to them in the second half.  After the game, we learned he told J.P. he liked his Dylan Windler Cavalier's jersey.  

Because there were so few mans at the game and we sit close to the floor, we could hear the players talking to each other, especially on defense.  We also could hear the SEMO coach, as he talked to his player on the bench.  Belmont's all conference point guard, Grayson Murphy - the son of a friend of mine -  had a great game, as usual.  Scored in double digits and led the team in rebounding, with seven. 

It was a different, but memorable, night at the Curb Center.  I think it's a basketball game I'll always remember.  Afterwards, the four of us walked down Bemont Boulevard, turned left on Linden Avenue, and we were home.  Jude and the boys sledded on 15th Street for a few minutes but not for too long, probably because the temperature was 18 degrees and dropping.

A pretty great night.

Wide World of Sports

Tuesday morning, after a Monday that seemed like a Sunday.

Christmas vacation officially ended for Joe this morning when I dropped him off at school on my way to work.  I guess it ended for me, too, as it's my first full day back in the office.  The winter grind, which I kind of enjoy, has officially started.

Yesterday, for the boys, was a Wide World of Sports day.  

The boys woke up and for 30 minutes or so, played various sports games on their iPads.  NBA2K, FIFA, Madden, etc.

I worked in the morning, then dropped J.P. off at MBA for basketball practice at noon.  While he was at practice, Joe and I went to D-bats for a baseball workout.  We threw to get warmed up, then I had him throw 20 or 30 pitches off the mound.  Next, he hit a bucket of balls off the tee, then hit a bucket of balls that I soft tossed to him.  We finished the workout with him hitting two buckets of balls with me live pitching.  Our reward was a hot chocolate for him and coffee for me at Honest Coffee Roasters on Charlotte.

After Joe and I picked J.P. up from basketball practice, we relaxed at home for an hour or so, then it was off to Top Golf.  Joe has been dying to go to Top Golf throughout Christmas vacation and J.P. wanted to try out his new golf clubs.  I'm not a golfer and not the biggest Top Golf fan but, actually, we had a good time.  Appetizers, dinner, dessert, and golf.  

Jude's golf swing is a thing of beauty and I remain convinced she could really play, and play well, if she took a few lessons.  J.P. and Joe have potential, if for no other reason than their hand-eye coordination.  Really, though, they need lessons before they develop bad swing habits that are hard to break in the long run.  My swing - Charles Barkleyesque - is beyond hope.  

Joe and I left Top Golf and drove straight to MBA for his 7 p.m. basketball practice, which I helped coach.  10 boys, varying skill levels, working on layups, zone defense, and passing.  I want to be more involved with Joe's basketball team because he and his teammates need to hear another voice and need more work on the fundamentals - dribbling, passing, playing defense.  I'm hoping to find the time to participate more in practice and possibly at games.

And, of course, we watched the Steelers - Browns games on Monday Night Football when we got home.  And the end of the Grizzlies - Nets game (big win for the Ja Morant and the Grizzlies).  And Monday Night Raw (WWE).

The Wide World of Sports.

  

A Quick Goodbye to 2021

To quote Bono, "all is quiet on New Year's Day."  

I'm sitting outside at Dose - thank God they're open today - having a cup of coffee and enjoying the 70 degree (!) weather.  Rain is coming later this morning and colder weather tonight.  It's winter, after all, and  I'm tired of warm weather.  

I don't think I've ever been a big New Year's resolution guy.  One or two specific things, maybe, and a couple of general things.  That's usually about it for me

I read a lot in 2021.  29 books and, of course, countless magazine and newspaper pieces, almost all of it online.  More reading I think, in 2021, and less watching television shows or movies.  I always read a lot, of course, but I seemed to read more and watch less in 2021, if that makes sense.

I didn't hit my goal, in 2021, of running 1,000 miles.  I still have to add the mileage up but I'm guessing various injuries and illnesses limited me to 800 - 900.  We'll see.  The last couple of months I've been healthy and running well, which is a blessing.

Work is, well, fine, I guess.  Cruise control to a certain extent at this point.  A few trials and, at last count, I mediated 71 cases (more than I initially thought).  I handed off the HR stuff to Alisha, finally, toward the end of the year, something that was long overdue.  I felt burned out at times, which I guess is normal after almost 30 years of practicing law.

2021 was a good year for the boys, all things considered.  

J.P. made the difficult decision to leave USN and attend MBA, which appears to have been the right decision for him.  I had wondered if he would be good enough to play sports at MBA.  So far, so good, as he ran cross country, played soccer, and is playing basketball at school.  More importantly, he did well on his exams and ended up making all A's for the fall semester, which is quite an achievement.  He's worked hard and I'm very proud of him.  

He went to camp in Virginia for three weeks last summer - Woodbury Forest - a sports camp.  It was a great experience for him.  Transformative, I think.  He's making noice about returning this summer, as well.  

J.P. is growing up before my eyes.  5' 8" - easily taller than Jude - and he toys with me when we run together.  He's beginning to take a real interest in working out and he's been to the weight room at MBA a couple of times over the holiday break.  I guess I'm going to need to get into the gym, at least a little bit, to try and keep up with him.

Joe had a good second grade year at USN and is having a good third grade year, as well.  I still wonder, at times, if we should have started Joe on time, rather than waiting a year.  I think he's right where he needs to be, most likely.  He's charismatic, a natural leader, popular, and sets the tone for his class in terms of listening and getting his work done.   

Joe continues to improve in basketball and baseball.  He had a blast playing baseball in the spring and fall for Oliver Davis and the Diamondbacks.  That will continue this spring, I know, and he's looking forward to it, as am I.  He's stronger in some ways than J.P. was at nine years old but I'm not sure he's as natural of an athlete.  He's going to have to start working harder, on his own, to get better, and we've talked about that quite a bit.  I'm not sure he's as naturally driven as J.P. is, which is okay.  Still, it's something for me to keep an eye on, as he may need me to motivate him a little more and I'm prepared to do that.

Jude had some unforeseen health issues in 2021, which I'm not going to go into here in any detail.  She handled it with strength and stoicism - much, much better than I would have - which, really, is par for the course with her.  She battled through it and, hopefully, will be fine moving forward.  

I never cease to be amazed at Jude's resolve and strength.  Over the last few years, she's had multiple eye procedures and surgeries - some of which were incredibly painful - and she never complained.  It was the same in 2021.  No complaints, just get through it.

All in all, I'm glad 2021 is over, I think.  I hope we all stay healthy and safe in 2022.