Our son Peter starts his first “real job” today. He just left the house a few minutes ago, passport and Social Security card in hand (gotta have those W-9 docs).
The job market’s been tight, and this day has been a long time coming. But it’ll be merely a blip on the radar over the course of his career.
His gig’s at The Cincinnati Insurance Companies (plural). They’ve been around for a long time and are well-respected. Peter could be there 20 months or 20 years. Doesn’t really matter. What matters is that this is just another step on the road to “adulting.”
You have your family, your school friends… and then your work friends. Some of the folks he meets in the days and weeks to come could become people he stays in touch with 40 years from now. That’s pretty cool. Oh, and earning a salary is a nice perk too.
It’s not my podcast, actually. It’s the podcast that Dave Tellmann and I do… or did, rather. But we’re still hauling in the hardware (“we’d like to thank the members of the academy…”) and reaping the accolades (“none of this would’ve been possible without your support…”).
The latest shout-out came courtesy of Cincinnati CityBeat.
Our “97X Rumblings from the Big Bush” podcast has run its course. (We did do a bonus episode recently after Mojo Nixon passed away.) But maybe a few more fans of the station will find their way to our little ol’ show. Which is the point.
“Rumblings” has a lot in common with a kid’s fort.
You can tell a lot of time and effort went into the construction of it, but it’s still clearly quite amateur. And that’s OK. For the few folks that tuned in, it was a time capsule from a time in their lives when the music and the people who shared it mattered a great deal to them. Those connections still matter.
We appreciate the recognition from CityBeat. Now if you’ll excuse us, Dave and I have to go put on our tuxedos for the awards ceremony.
Last Thursday, Mrs. Dubbatrubba and I went down to Keeneland with our freighbors (friends/neighbors) Whit and Barb.
Keeneland is a horse racing track in Lexington, KY. A fancy one. Pastoral. Fewer folks betting their rent money, and more well-heeled folks with designer clothing and “fascinator” hats. Bluebloods in Bluegrass country. But they still let in riff-raff like us, as long as we pony up (ha!) the $7 general admission fee.
My wife and I have a mini bucket list with Whit and Barb. It started during pandemic. Nothing elaborate – no overseas excursions, no skydiving. Just random stuff nearby that we’ve always wanted to do. Like take a weekday off from work to go bet on the ponies.
It was raining buckets when we left in the morning. And the forecast called for severe thunderstorms in the afternoon. But a soggy day at the track beats a dry day at the office.
On sunny weekend days, Keeneland is packed with the “see and be seen” crowd, along with a heaping helping of University of Kentucky frat boys and sorority sisters. Great for people-watching, but stuffed and stuffy. (Those giant hats really block your view of the track!) Weekdays are a better — pardon the pun — bet.
We tailgated in the parking lot… which is actually a field. (Joni Mitchell would love it!)
The “Thunderstorm Thursday” weather kept a lot of folks away, so there were no lines at the windows (and at the beer booths). We could be true “railbirds.”
We met an elderly man from Dayton and his two middle-aged sons, who were there on a father/son trip. Nice folks.
And despite the ominous forecast, the sun actually broke through in the afternoon for a couple of hours.
We cashed a few tickets… it was usually enough to recoup the $8 that we bet on one race and spend it on the next one. We probably went home $20 lighter. And 1,000% richer for having spent a fun day with good friends.
Not every vacation has to be elaborate. Not every bucket list item has to be exotic. Sometimes a random, rainy Thursday is all you need for some rejuvenation.
(These jockeys didn’t make any money for us, but they were super-friendly.)
There are many times I question the “wisdom” of crafting blog posts for a blog that few* people read.
*4-6 folks, roughly, although that staggering number drops precipitously if you subtract relatives.
Any objective observer would consider it a waste of time and money. I should just buy a journal and write in that. Same readership, without the hassle and expense of maintaining a web presence. (Believe it or not, I actually have to PAY for the highly coveted, much-sought-after domain name of “dubbatrubba.com.”)
But then I get a note like this from my friend and co-worker:
Wow! So one of my trivial posts on my silly little blog actually played a very tiny role in helping kickstart something that will bring more gratefulness and joy into the world? I’m flabbergasted! (And flabby too… probably from too much time sitting on my butt blogging.)
Here’s more about the event:
Grateful Gatherings are monthly conversations with purpose, designed by Grateful Living and hosted by people like Harmony co-president Susan Jackson who have completed their training program. Each month we’ll be exploring the transformative practice of grateful living, using the resources provided by Grateful Living. Our monthly topics will include things like: Say Yes to Joy, Welcome Imperfection, Navigate Grief, Reimagine Rest, Awaken to Awe, and Act with Courage.
Suddenly all those countless hours spent blogging seem worthwhile. Especially if we’re grading success on the Emerson scale:
Susan’s first Grateful Gathering will take place on Sunday, April 28, at 10 a.m. at Moonflower Coffee Collective in Sharonville. Damn right I’ll be there! Because I’m forever grateful that Susan read some silly little blog post in the first place.
This is just the incentive I needed to continue with my blog posts! It’s so much better than the usual feedback I receive, which falls into one of two categories:
I went to a memorial service for my friend John’s mom a few days ago. John did the eulogy. He said at the very start that there should really be two eulogies.
Eulogy #1: His mom, Sandy, was a children’s hospice nurse for 35 years. Full stop.
Sure, there was much more to her — and John covered that territory beautifully in Eulogy #2 — but that single sentence sums up a life well-lived, in service to others in their darkest hours of need. Most of us wouldn’t last a day in that gig. The fact that she did it for 35 years surely has earned her the express ticket to heaven.
Not every nurse is as kind and caring as Sandy was. But every day, in hospitals, nursing homes, care centers — and even on battlefields — there are nurses who answer the call. Usually for long shifts, typically for less pay than folks who don’t have to deal with life-and-death situations.
From a baby’s first breath to a grandparent’s final breath, nurses heed the call to provide care and comfort. It’s messy. It’s taxing. It can be harrowing. They deserve our praise (and a raise!).
(The obituary for Nurse Sandy is here. Next time you’re having a bad day at work, read it over. You’ll gain a new perspective on what a “bad day” really is. )
Kevin Sullivan on Life advice from a man who lived it: “A good one Damian. Bring our lens into focus after the long weekend or our long life journey.” Jul 7, 09:38
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