This Is A Cheery Post or See What Happens When I Can't Fit In A Workout?

I have lunch with a group on alternating Thursdays, and today was a lunch day. I love these days because I get to eat at one of my favorite spots, European Street. I think they’re the best sandwich shops in Jacksonville. I also enjoy hanging out with this group, which consists, mostly, of old white Southern men. The group started with my dad and these men, I think as a vestry committee, almost fifteen years ago. I’m not really sure, but I know it had something to do with church. I know that’s where they met each other. I’ve been part of the group for about ten or twelve years. Members come and go, and the group will get as large as ten, but there are two real mainstays, John and Bill. John is a curmudgeon with a heart of gold who desperately wants to have an open mind. That’s the best way I can describe him. Bill is just a sweet, sweet man. When I first started eating with them Bill was in his mid sixties and John was in his late fifties. Now Bill is in his late seventies and John is in his early seventies. They’re getting old, or more precisely, they’ve gotten old. John is recovering from a heart attack and triple bypass surgery he had about a month ago, and hasn’t been able to join us. Bill had to cancel two weeks ago because of some type of medical issue, and when I saw him today I noticed that his handshake was weak. Their minds are sharp but their bodies are failing them, and it’s freaking me out. My Thursday lunches are going to change. They already have. John has chosen me as his successor. I now organize when everybody gets together. John is a self-made millionaire through hard work and saving, so I understand where he's coming from politically. He’s a conservative cut from the “I’ll take care of me and you take care of you and everything will be fine” cloth, yet he spends three days a week delivering meals on wheels. He’s a Republican who’s disillusioned by the petty cowardice and stupidity of his party, but he’s friends with younger Republicans who aren’t as thoughtful as he is. And I’m finding it hard to invite them to what is becoming my lunch. Bill is a guy who truly just wants to be a good Christian, and has spent his life evolving from his experiences. They’re two true mavericks. They were Southern Republicans before 1980. I hate that John’s and Bill’s funerals aren’t abstractions in my long term thinking anymore. I'm moving out of the phase of life where I think, wow it’s going to be weird when so and so dies, and into the phase where I’m terrified that oh s**t these people are going to be gone soon. Merry Christmas everyone.

I Just Do What I'm Told

LMJ is 20 months old today, and I’m thinking about how much she has changed my life. What’s strange is that I’m 38 years old, she’s been a part of my life for less than 2 years, yet I can’t remember life before her. It’s funny that I used to think I was busy. What did I do with all that free time, and what will I do when I get it back in seventeen years when she goes off to college (MJ, you have no automatic claim to any of this potential free time)? On the one hand, I wish we had had her five or even ten years ago. On the other hand, I’m cherishing every moment and wouldn’t trade it for anything. I love her pigeon English. I love the sense of purpose she has with everything she does. For right now, I love how bossy she is. I don’t think that’s going stay cute though. I love how busy she is, even though she wears me out. I love that she’s an extremely affectionate baby. We spend a lot of time hugging and kissing. I even love that I’m at the base of the totem pole that’s buried underground. LMJ brought me the TV remote the other night and handed it to me. I asked her what she wanted me to do with it, and she said “On!?!” So I turned on the television. What was funny is that her mother was genuinely surprised that I asked how high when LMJ said jump. I’ve treated her the exact same way for nearly twenty years. When we found out we were having a baby girl how did she think things were going to go? If LMJ asks her daddy nicely and there’s no chance of physical injury, 99 times out of 100 she’s going to get what she wants. That’s just the way things are (Mama still gets treated that way too). And that’s the way things are going to stay.