Bookman

For his theme project in his sophomore English class at school this year, JP had to choose an author to write about after reading three of his or her novels.  This interested me, of course, because I love reading.  While Ernest Hemingway was an obvious possibility, JP's teacher steered the boys away from him for just that reason.  Too obvious of a choice.  

After considering several authors and narrowing it down to a few, JP was on the verge of choosing Larry McMurtry.  I was ecstatic because McMurtry is one of my favorite writers.  Although I cautioned JP not to choose McMurtry solely because of my affinity for him, he chose him nonetheless.  

I've read many of McMurtry's books, novels and memoirs, and enjoyed every one of them.  His writing seems to speak to me in a way that others' doesn't.  I am not sure why but I always have felt that way.  After his death in March 2021, I read a fantastic biography about him by Tracy Daugherty, Larry McMurtry: A Life (2023).  

My thought was for JP to read some of McMurtry's earlier and less famous novels, like Horsemen, Pass By or Leaving Cheyenne, then to follow that up with The Last Picture Show.  Or, perhaps, to read one of my favorites, All My Friends are Going to Be Strangers.  Or Texasville.  Or even Terms of Endearment.  An added benefit is that those books all are of manageable length, which I thought would be important given JP's class load this year.  

Alas, his teacher wanted him to read Lonesome Dove (1985), McMurtry's sprawling, Pulitzer Prize winning western that is my second favorite novel of all-time.  It's also 850 + pages long, so JP's teacher agreed to count it as two books if JP read it.  My hope had been for JP to steer clear, for now, of Lonesome Dove, and to focus on three of McMurtry's lesser known, earlier novels.  Also, I wanted him have the opportunity to reach three of McMurtry's novels, as opposed to two.  Not my call, though.

When it became clear that JP was going to read Lonesome Dove, I decided to read it with him.  Doing so would make it the first time I have read a book three times.  In truth, one of the only other books I have read twice is my all-time favorite novel, Stephen King's The Stand (1978).  Come to think of it, I also read Richard Ford's The Sportswriter (1986) twice, as well.

So, for the past few weeks, I have been reading Lonesome Dove again, keeping pace with JP.  Actually, I've been enjoying the novel so much that it's been all I can do not to stray too far ahead.  One thing I think I have learned is that JP and I have different reading habits.  I tend to hunker down with a book that grabs me and read it to the exclusion of everything else.  No television, no distractions, for solid blocks of time.  Joe is like that, too.  On the other hand, JP seems to prefer to read in shorter blocks of time, much like Jude.  

What's really been fantastic, though, is the discussions JP and I have had about Lonesome Dove every couple of days.  Gus McRae, Woodrow Call, Josh Deets, Pea Eye, Newt, Po Campo, and all of the rest of the Hat Creek outfit.  We spend time talking about Blue Duck, of course, one of the most fearsome and evil villains in American literature, in my view.  

We also have talked about the larger themes of the novel, like the epic cattle drive being the end of something.  A way of life.  A period of time in American history.  Several of the character's lives.  I love those kinds of discussions.  It's fascinating to me to talk with JP and to learn how he sees the larger themes of the novel.  In some ways, it's a glimpse into how his mind works, his values, and how he sees life.  At least, that's the way it seems to me.  

It's one thing to talk with my boys about a Dodgers' game or season, or to have a spirited discussion about which quarterback they would select if they were starting an expansion franchise.  It's entirely different - and more important, to me - to discuss a novel, particularly a Great American Novel, like Lonesome Dove.  Truth be told, although Jude and I have worked diligent to imbue our boys with a love of reading, I never realized how satisfying it would be for them to read books that meant a great deal to me and have discussions about what the same books mean to them.

I always knew how much I would love throwing the baseball with my boys.  I don't think I realized how much I would love sharing a book with them and, better yet, reading a book with one of them at the same time.

Being a parent is pretty amazing.

The Meaning of Christmas

As I rushed around on Monday, two days before Christmas, buying gifts at Green Hills Mall, Parnassus Books, Williams-Sonoma, etc., I found myself feeling a bit dispirited.  I've always enjoyed giving gifts so much more than receiving them but, still, there was so much buying of . . . things.  Things that in reality, no one really needed.  

What got me thinking about this was a conversation Jude and I had earlier in which she had confirmed that our elderly next door neighbor, Ms. Rachel, would be alone on Christmas.  Her niece, who lives with her most of the time, apparently was going to be out of town.  It saddened me to think about Ms. Rachel being alone on Christmas with no one to talk to and no gifts to give or receive.  It just didn't feel very Christmassy, if you get my meaning.

I also felt a sharp pang of guilt, too, as I thought about Ms. Rachel and how little we interact with her on a daily basis throughout the year.  Sure, we check in on her every now and then and occasionally pick up an item or two from the grocery store or Walgreens.  What we don't do, though, is go next door to see her, sit down, and just talk to her.  I can't help but think she gets lonely, particularly since her health has not been good the last year or two.

I guess it's more than a Christmas thing but I am so busy with life, personally and professionally, that I don't think about how Ms. Rachel - or others like her - are doing.  I don't think about what I can do - in even a small way - that might have a outsized impact on her life (or others' lives).  It's so easy to write a check to WPLN (Nashville Public Radio), Renewal House, Nashville Shakespeare Festival, and the 21st Judicial District Recovery Court - and Jude and I do that every year.  They're all worthy non-profits.  What's harder, at least for me, is to give my time to someone or something.  In some ways, I suppose, my time is more valuable than money.  

Part of the problem, too, at least as it relates to Ms. Rachel, is that she is a private person, is fiercely proud, and doesn't seem to like the idea of accepting handouts from a neighbor.  I'm struggling, today, to find a way to see her and interact with her more - to do more for her - without intruding, imposing, or making he feel like a charity case.

Yesterday, Jude, JP, Joe, and I walked next door after we had opened some of our gifts for each other.  Jude had made a plate of food for Ms. Rachel and we gave her Kroger and Walgreen gift cards.  What we did that mattered as much or more, I think, was to sit down in Ms. Rachel's living room and talk with her for 15 minutes.  And you know what?  It was nice, for us and for her.

I led the conversation as I often do because I'm naturally inquisitive about people and, of course, as a trial lawyer and mediator, I spend a lot of time trying to persuade people to tell my about themselves.  Yesterday, we learned that Ms. Rachel has lived in her house since 1972.  Coincidentally, she moved into her house the same year my mom moved into our house in Brentwood.  Without question, Ms. Rachel has lived on our block longer than anyone else.

We talked about the changes she had seen in our neighborhood.  Becker's Bakery, come and long gone, was a place that my mother used to go to when she visited Nashville as a young lady, before we moved into Brentwood.  We talked about the beautiful mansion across the street and when it burned down, years ago, when it was owned by Jenkins Wynne, a local realtor who died of cancer way too young.  

We talked about our old house on Elliott Avenue and the leaf party we had for the kids every October.  I talked about how the woman to whom we sold the house cut down our beautiful and stately maple tree last summer.  It was nice to visit, even for a few minutes.

I hope we can visit more with Ms. Rachel in 2025.  I hope we can find a way to do more for her and that she will let us into her leg a little more.  That would be nice.  

This Christmas, I'm grateful for my family, for sure, and for what we have and are able to do.  God has blessed us beyond measure.  

 

 

50

In late September, when David Hanchrow and I drove to Atlanta to see a Dodgers - Braves game, I stayed overnight with my longtime friend and fraternity brother, Todd Blankenbecler.  We stayed up after the game and talked for a bit, then had breakfast the next morning at a local diner.  It was a brief but fulfilling visit as is almost always the case with old friends.  

As we talked, TB mentioned that he was a three mile a day runner.  He said he ran the same course - three miles - almost every day.  Interesting, I though, particularly since TB and I used to run the Thanksgiving Day Half-Marathon in Atlanta together in our mid-20's.  How does a runner go from running for mileage which, almost by necessity, includes longer runs and runs of varying distances, to running the same three miles route on a daily basis.

On my five hour drive home, I thought about this a lot.  As a longtime runner, I am always looking for different ways to motivate myself to get out and run.  Mileage goals for the year.  Running a certain number of times in a given year.  A certain number of long runs for the year.  Preparing for a race (although that hasn't happened for a while).  

Runner are hard on themselves as a rule.  I am very hard on myself if I don't put the work in running.  More is better, I think I had come to believe, looking down my nose at a three mile or, sometimes, a four mile run.  Why?  For no good reason, I realized.  

On the drive home, I decided to run three miles 50 times before the end of the year.  Not the most ambitious of goals, I know.  Still, it was a new approach for me.  After all, it's pretty damn easy to find 30 minutes to run three miles, including stretching before and cooling down afterwards.  I figured all I needed was good health, no injuries, and a little determination.  

The stars lined up and, sure enough, this morning, on Christmas Eve, I ran three miles in Harlinsdale Farm in Franklin, then followed that up with a cup of coffee at Honest Coffee Roasters in the Factory.  As I listen to Christmas music and the hum of conversation in the background, I am happy and content.  

Happy that I've been blessed by God with the ability and desire to continue to run at age 58.  Content that, on Christmas Eve, I reached the modest goal I set for myself back in the fall.  

Once a runner, always a runner.

Rocky Top in Columbus, Ohio

Although he is an avowed Vanderbilt fan, this fall JP began expressing an interest in going to a Tennessee football game in Neyland Stadium.  In what might be my biggest failure as a parent, I've never taken the boys to a game there.  No real reason other than we've always been so busy with fall sports.  Because JP is such a sports fan, like his old man, it makes sense that he would want to see a football game in Knoxville.  

It's hard to believe what an outsized role Tennessee football played in my life for so many years.  By my count, I had season football tickets for 26 years, the majority of the time under cover in the second deck of the North End Zone after that sections was renovated.  For well over a decade, I sat with Sarge (Jennifer), Corley (Mike), TB (Kristin), and Mark (Elizabeth).  Before and after I began dating and, later, married Jude, my fall weekends were consumed with driving to Knoxville, staying with Sarge (or Jude's parents), tailgating on Saturdays, watching the Vols in Neyland, having dinner or beers at Old College Inn after the game, etc.  I made the drive back and forth to Knoxville on fall weekends a million times or so it seems.

On many fall weekends, I drove with a group to Athens, Georgia, Birmingham (or Tuscaloosa), Alabama, or Auburn, Alabama, to see the Vols play on the road.  So many happy memories of the days before kids or the days when my friends' kids were young and Jude and I had yet have our boys.  I've written about this before but in the fall, it was football, football, football, even more so when the Titans arrived in Nashville.  Often times, I'd pull a double header, watching Tennessee play in Knoxville on a Saturday, then rushing back to Nashville to see the Titans play at Adelphia Coliseum on Sunday.

As he approaches the week long gauntlet of exams - and believe me, it was a gauntlet for him - JP asked if there was any way we could go to see Tennessee play Ohio State in Columbus, Ohio, in the first round of the college football playoff.  I called one of my high school classmates and close friends, Neil Lynch - who lives in Columbus - and everything fell together pretty quickly.  Neil helped with tickets and graciously offered for us to stay at his house, which is 10 minutes or so from campus.  He even dropped us off at the game and picked us up afterwards, at close to midnight.  Now, that's a real friend!

Of course, I enjoyed the travel time with JP.  It's not often, anymore, that I get six hours or so in the car wit him as a captive audience.  It's a great way to try to do a check in and see how he's doing.  Plus, like Joe, JP is a really good hang.  We covered a lot of conversational ground on the drive up and back - school, sports, family, life.  He doesn't talk a lot, of course, so I treasure all of the conversations I have with him about matters of substance.

It was great to see Neil and Cindy.  They stayed up late and made dinner for us Friday night.  JP and I drove over to campus early Saturday morning and braved the cold (below 30 degrees) to watch ESPN's College Game Day, live, and to tour Ohio State's campus on our own.  It's a big campus but surprisingly bucolic, nestled in the trees and with the Oval seeming to be the center of campus life.  I liked Columbus a lot, actually.  

Saturday, for lunch, we went with Neil and Cindy to Katzinger's, a well known Columbus Jewish deli and had an excellent lunch.  Well worth the wait, as the place was packed.  Afterwards, we laid around, watched college football (Penn State-SMU and Texas-Clemson), and relaxed.  The calm before the storm, so to speak.  Then, we donned layers and layers of clothes, including long johns, and headed to Ohio Stadium to brave the 20 degree weather and watch the Vols take on Ohio State along with 102,000 + of our closest friends.

As was written often in the aftermath of a Buckeye bloodletting, Tennessee' fans showed up but the team didn't, as Ohio State pummeled the Vols, 42 - 17.  It was never close, much to the disappointment of the 25,000 or so orange clad Vol fans who made the trek to Columbus for the game.  

In the third quarter, JP turned to me and said, "Dad, the conversion is going to take longer than you planned."  Nodding my head ruefully, I replied, "I know, bud.  I know."  

While the Vols laid an egg and a rather large one at that, I was happy that JP got to see a big-time college football game.  Ohio Stadium was awesome.  So much tradition.  Rabid fans.  Everything that makes college football what it was and, well, what it is at least for a few more years.  I can't help but feel, though, that we're at the end of something, as we adjust to a world with NIL money everywhere and players entering the transfer portal year after year.  If you believe what you read, Ohio State alumni paid 20 million dollars for the current roster and Tennessee alumni paid 10 million dollars for theirs.  That can't be sustainable, right?

JP and I sat in the cold in Ohio Stadium, shivered in the cold, and had an honest to God father-son night, watching football in a stadium neither of us likely ever enters again.  A snapshot moment and a memory I will never forget, for sure. 

It's funny, as JP is set to begin the second half of his sophomore year, I find myself beginning to realize that it's all coming to and end too soon.  By that, I mean, the ability to spend time together on a daily basis, something it's so easy to take for granted when you're raising a child or children.  It seems like my hands-on, fatherly duties will never end, until one day it hits me that he's almost half way through high school.  Soon enough, he will be off to college and it's all over.  

I realize, of course, that our relationship will evolve and I will transition into being a different kind of father.  Still, as a control freak of the worse sort, I am going to have a very hard time letting go, as JP leaves our home and goes off into the world to live his life.  It's making me sad, siting in Dose and finishing my coffee on Christmas Eve's Eve, just thinking about it.

For now, though, I'll enjoy the last minute hustle and bustle of this Christmas, and be thankful for Jude and my two sons at home.  JP, already off for a 7 a.m. run with some of his former (and current) cross country teammates, in town for the holiday, and Joe nestled in bed reading or watching Dude Perfect on his iPod.

Christmas is upon us.  

"Joy to the world, the Lord is come."

More Basketball for Joe

It was a basketball weekend, for sure, for Joe and the rest of us.  In the meantime, JP studied for exams, the first of which was on Friday with the rest this week.  In truth, he probably appreciated having the house to himself for most of the weekend as we drove to Brentwood Academy and Legacy Courts for Joe's basketball games.  

Saturday morning, the glow from Friday's night's USN win over Harding quickly disappeared as Joe's Starts team was absolutely steamrolled by its opponent in a Darius Garland League game.  Although the stop counting baskets with a 20 point lead - which I think is silly - I bet Joe's team lost by at least 40 points, if not more.  

The Stars team is not a good team and, really, is a perfect example of what is wrong with youth sports.  Technically, it's a club team in the sense that the boys have to try out for it and pay to be a part of the Stars' organization.  However, the players - including Joe - are good recreational league level basketball players and there isn't anything wrong with that.  In reality, it's a money grab.

Joe's WNSL team - the Bucket Squad - played in the annual WNSL Christmas tournament at Legacy Courts in Franklin.  It's funny but I'm really going to miss watching these boys play together when it's all over.  They have been together for so long - since they were very young - and played a lot of basketball together over the years.  Fall, Winter, and Summer leagues and tournaments.  3-on-3 tournaments.  

What is really cool to see is that, now, they're at a point where they share the ball so well and so unselfishly.  Every player knows his role.  They're not the best team but they're a very good recreational league basketball team.  And, I'll say it again.  There isn't anything wrong with that.

Joe missed the first tournament game on Saturday morning because of a conflict with the Stars' game at Brentwood Academy.  The afternoon game was a laugher.  Joe's team won by 30 + points against a gross inferior team.  Lose by 40 in the morning and win by 30 in the afternoon.  That's youth basketball.

Yesterday, Joe's team played a closer game against the team they had smoked Saturday afternoon.  At least in the first half, it was close.  In the second half, I stepped in for Thomas to coach because he had to drive his youngest son, Henry, to basketball practice.  I encouraged the boys to focus on getting Cole the ball inside and I implored Cole to shoot it at least five times.  They listened and Cole listened and, suddenly, he had eight points and the offense was running through him, our big man, in the paint.  I wanted Cole to get his confidence back and, at least for a half of a game, he did.  

I was joking with Preston on the bench and we decided to call the Cole post up play "hight tide," after a silly All State Insurance commercial that seems to run non-stop on television during college and pro football games.  It was hilarious to see the boys yelling "high tide," then running a play.   More importantly, they were having fun and playing free of any pressure, which always is good to see.  It was a memorable half of basketball.

In the final game, the boys couldn't hit much early and fell behind to a team they had beaten in a close game the day before.  None of our boys was playing particularly well.  It was close at halftime, then the other team pulled away and built a lead.  Relatively late in the first half, Joe chased a boy down after a steal and grabbed him from behind as he was about to attempt a layup.  Obvious intentional foul.  A bonehead play, although the boy missed both free throws and his team missed a shot or turned it over, so no harm was done.  Joe claims that play galvanize what became a classic Bucket Squad comeback from an eight point deficit but I'm not so that was the case.

Either way, Nash took over the last two minutes of the game.  His rebounding and put back baskets cut into the lead until, finally, he drove the lane and hit a layup to tie the score.  The other team missed a shot and Joe's team ended up inbounding the ball on the sideline, in front of our bench, with 15 or so seconds left in the game.  Joe inbound it to Nash, he swung it to a wide open Pike, and Pike hit a 3-pointer!  Bucket Squad up by three points with 12 seconds left.  

The boys held on and that was that, 41 - 38 final.  Bucket Squad win.

The comeback was impressive, to say the least.  Down eight or 10 points with two minutes to play.  No panic.  Played together.  No turnovers.  Finally started rebounding and played tight defense.  It was a good team win and a really, really fun game to watch.  All in all, it was a great way to finish a weekend of 6th grade basketball.

These days are coming to a close, I know, and I'm going to miss them.  Middle school and high school sports signals the inevitable end of recreational league sports and that makes me sad.  I'm going to enjoy this one, though.

The Ultimate Glue Guy

I'm struggling to find the right words to aptly describe how proud I am of Joe this morning, as a competitor, as an athlete, as a teammate, as a friend, and as a leader.  He was all of those things last night, and more, as USN's 6th grade basketball team ran their unbeaten streak to three games by defeating Harding Academy, 37-29.

The game was big - no, huge - for Joe because so many of his friends play for Harding, including his best friend, Pike.  Rex, Nash, Austin, Cullen, Cole.  All boys Joe with whom Joe has played basketball (and soccer, too) for years on the Bucket Squad.  He had been thinking about this game since USN's soccer season ended and basketball began.  He talked about it all week long, even as USN's boys handily defeated Davidson Academy and Donelson Christian in away games I missed due to work.

Thursday night, before bed, Joe told me he was thinking about running through Cole, Pike, or Nash at the beginning of the game to set the tone for the game, much like when Kobe leveled Paul Gasol as he ran through a screen in the 2008 Olympics, USA vs. Spain.  I smiled at first, then realized Joe was dead serious about it.  That's how much the USN - Harding basketball game meant to him.

I drove Joe to school Friday morning, in part so I could talk to him about the game.  I told him not to run through anybody or try to put anyone on the ground, not unless he was taking a clean, hard foul to prevent a layup.  I encouraged him to play his game, to play loose and free.  I didn't want him to be too keyed up or too tight because he was playing against his friends.  

My thought, too, was that Harding would beat USN because they're a deeper team with more basketball talent.  What I didn't realize, though - or maybe it's just something I forgot - is that with Joe, Sawyer, and Bennet, USN is a tougher, more competitive basketball team.  That's a fact.  No bickering among players.  Sharing of the basketball.  Balanced scoring.  Team basketball.

Of course, Joe came out tight after all.  He missed his first three or four shots badly, particularly a couple of 3-pointers that came up way short.  Here's what Joe did do, though.  He played great defense, all game long.  He hopped in passing lanes and he prevented Pike from driving to the lane or getting open looks.  He shut off Nash's drives more than once.  He also inbounded the ball on every in bounds play for USN.  He initiated the offense, especially in the third and fourth quarters.  He made several nice passes for buckets.  He had a calming effect on the rest of the team.  He was the unquestioned team leader. 

Not the best player.  Not the most athletic player.  Not the biggest player.  Perhaps, though, the most important player on a team that needed him to lead them, and that's what he did.

He was the ultimate glue guy, which is who Joe is on the basketball court.  It's especially who he was in the biggest game he and his USN team probably will play this season.  

Running Lane 2024

Yesterday, JP and the rest of the MBA cross country team ran in the final race of the season, the Running Lane Cross Country Championships in Huntsville, AL.  Jude drove down with JP and I stayed home with Joe, who had two basketball games and the ICEE preparation class.  Honestly, I hated to miss the race but I had been to almost all of JP's other races and, as always, life is about balance.  I wanted to see Joe's two basketball games, too.

Running Lanes always is an exciting end to the cross country season for high school boys and girls because this course is very fast.  Many runners set PR's at Running Lanes.  Yesterday was no different, as Jack Wallace ran a smoking 14:52:16 to grab 5th place overall.  He set a new school record, besting the one he set earlier this fall in Louisville by 12 seconds.  Gabe Guillamondegui set a PR, as well, finishing in 15:42:48 (86th overall).

JP finished 36th overall, running the course in 15:19:79.  That's fast but, in truth, I think he was a little disappointed he didn't run faster than the PR of 15:14 he ran earlier in the season in Louisville, KY.  As he mentioned to me, the fastest sophomore finished slightly ahead of him in 15:13.  JP would have liked to have clipped him.  In his mind, I think JP wanted to find five more seconds somewhere on the course, which would have given him a PR.  

Still, finishing 36 out of 286 runners is impressive.  As JP also said, had he been told at the end of last season that he would run under 15:20 twice this season, he would have taken that result in a heartbeat.  Either way, I was proud of him for running as well as he did on a fast course against a very fast field with boys, literally, from all over the country.  California, Florida, Texas, etc.  It was a big day for him.

MBA finished 7th overall in the Gold Division, which was impressive, since they were seeded 11th or 12th.  A strong finish to a memorable cross country season for the Big Red.  

Next year, JP will go from being the hunter to being hunted.  It will be interesting to see how he handles it.  Every cross country season and every cross country team is distinct from the others.

Friday night, Joe and I had dinner at Samurai Sushi on Elliston Place.  Great sushi.  I introduced Joe to the term, "hole in the wall," and he used it to describe the restaurant to Jude when we spoke to her on the telephone Saturday morning.  It had been years since I had been there but I knew it would be good, and it was.  I have a distant memory of eating here with Hal and Kim 20 + years ago, maybe more.  I think Jon Meade may have been with us, too.

Yesterday, Joe and I rushed from his ICEE prep class to West End Middle School to catch the second half of his basketball game with the Bucket Squad, the WNSL (recreational) league team he has played on for years.  They won handily against an inferior opponent.  Joe played fine but, I think, had difficulty getting into the flow of the game because he had no time to warm up.  

Later Saturday afternoon, Joe played his first game with his Stars team.  The Stars are a more competitive team for which Joe tried out a month or so ago.  The team got boat raced by a more experience, more athletic Darius Garland League team.  The game was never close.  Playing time is merit-based on the Stars team, which is a new for Joe.  Although there aren't any real athletes or basketball players on this team, I think it's going to be tough for Joe to earn playing time due to his lack of size and ball handling limitations.  We'll see.

Although Joe didn't start yesterday, he played most of the first half.  Upon entering the game, he promptly turned the ball over three times before settling down.  He had a nice drive to the bucket, in traffic, for a lay up.  He missed a three pointer that has nice rotation on it and looked like it was going in.  He also had three assists, two off out of bounds plays and one on a nice entry pass to his Bucket Squad teammate, Cole.  

Joe started the second half but didn't play near as much as in the first half.  He hit a baseline eight foot jumper early and that was it.  Defensively, he needs some work, as he was beat to the cup more than once.    

What I really liked about Joe's game was how much he as moving away from the ball.  His teammates weren't skilled enough to get the ball to him or, really, to notice that he was moving and getting open.  I love the hustle and the way he was moving, though.  

My sense is that it will be a long season for the Stars team.  Time will tell.

Gratitude

As the curtain falls on another Thanksgiving weekend, it occurs to me that it might be a use full exercise to spend some time thinking about all I have to be thankful for, in no particular order.

I'm thankful for good health.  My family's and mine.  I lost a longtime friend - David Easterling - to a glioblastoma earlier this year.  Presently, four people in my orbit - three of them friends - are fighting some form of cancer.  At my age, I guess, every healthy day is a blessing. 

I'm thankful for my family.  Full stop.  I am so blessed to have Jude as my wife and JP and Joe as my sons.  

I'm thankful for my work.  After 30 + years as a practicing attorney, I'm blessed to have built a family law practice and reputation that allow me to earn a comfortable living.  Clients place their trust in me to help them through, perhaps, the most difficult time in their lives.  I don't take that responsibility lightly and I never will.

I'm thankful, at 58, to be able to run.  Maybe not as fast as I once did or for as long, but to be able to go out several days a week and run, pain free, is a gift.  A true gift.  

I'm thankful for our church, St. Patrick.  It has been hard, to be sure, losing Father Hammond to the Cathedral of the Incarnation.  We miss him terribly.  However, it was time for him to take on more responsibility at a larger church.  I know that and I'm very proud of him.  Every Sunday that I am at St. Patrick, I feel a sense of peace and a sense of belonging.  That's no small thing.

I'm thankful for books and the writers that write them.  Reading for pleasure is, well, everything to me.  Fiction.  Non-fiction.  Biographies.  Memoirs.  I love it all.  Last year, I discovered Walter Mosley and Easy Rawlins.  This year, it's John D. MacDonald and Travis McGee.  Give me a good book and a few minutes of solitude.  That's contentment for me.

I'm thankful for music.  Right now, as I write this, I'm listening to John Coltrane's "Coltrane For Lovers" (Deluxe Edition).  It's been my go to album in 2024.  

I'm thankful for podcasts.  I pass so much time in my truck, commuting to and from work, listening to podcasts.  Bill Simmons.  Press Box (Bryan Curtis and David Shoemaker), Ezra Klein, Derek Thompson (Plain English), Ryan Rusillo, the Run Up (Astead Herndon), and so many others.  

I'm thankful for Fall.  It's my favorite season of the year.  Every August and September, as I fight the oppressive heat, what keeps me going is thinking about September 30, when my boys and I put up my Halloween decorations at work.  All kinds of crazy stuff.  My law partners tolerate - barely - my love of Halloween and all of my crazy zombie heads, etc.  I love October 1 - January 2, every year.  Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.  

I'm thankful for our cats, Mini (18 + years old), and Angus.  Stray cats that found us and enriched our lives immeasurably.  

I'm thankful for a good bourbon, preferably Calumet Farms 15.  Maybe a little too thankful!

Happy Thanksgiving.