The alarm slapped me across the face at 3:30 on Sunday morning. Happy 50th, ya old bastard. You made it.
I woke to this scene on the television, the recently retired Michael Caine from “The Dark Knight Rises” crying over Bruce Wayne. It seemed appropriate given the weight of the day, a lifetime of memories, misses and missteps flashing before my eyes as Caine’s tears fell.
And with that, I found my way to the bathroom for the stare down. The Stuart Smalley-inspired moment to prep for the day ahead. A quick shower and I was out the door, ready for my two-hour Sunday morning sprint on radio.
It’s Week 6 of the NFL. Normally, I’m bouncing off the walls, ready to hammer through stats and injuries and trends. And fire off the requisite pop culture references and one-liners, of course.
This Sunday, I’d have rather pulled the covers back up and slept (or tried to). But, the show goes on. It’s like the song from Rilo Kiley says:
“But you’ll fight and you’ll make it through
You’ll fake it if you have to
And you’ll show up for work with a smile” (A Better Son/Daughter)
I received a text from my daughter before the show - and long before she should have been up - that gave me a jolt of positivity ahead of the show introduction. A couple friends did the same, helping to lift the spirit.
The show was great - we broke down matchups and made predictions. And, a certain number of NFL teams would later do their best to make me look foolish (I do fine by myself in that regard).
I headed back to watch the action, my beloved Bears doing Bears things, a miserable experience among a slate of NFL surprises. Calls and texts to mock their futility and to catch up, including my family and my other daughter, brightened the day.
It’s the simple things that bring you back. For a while, it all melts away, that anguish you saw in Caine’s face up top, the things you’ve fouled up. You’re talking about the game, laughing about memories of players and teams past, birthday celebrations and loved ones.
Tim McGraw sang about “My Next 30 Years.” I know I don’t have 50 in me, but you have to start somewhere.
This counts as Day One.
