A year ago I couldn’t stop posting on speaktherights.com. I was almost obsessed. What I was…well…I was being cathartic.
A year ago yesterday my Granny died following a month long journey to the end. I chronicled her illness a bit. I wrote about her obituary. I wrote about her funeral service. I wrote about her later. She was a subject that offered unlimited material in good times and bad. She was one of a kind. My grandfather said they broke the mold when she was made. I think he was right. I know…I know… we are all individual. But Granny, well, she was an interesting study.
I suppose Granny’s death was a bit of a tipping point in me finding a new job. I found out it was time I thought about leaving Medora…not driving so far to work if I could help it.
These days I don’t want to get too close to this blog for the same reasons. I thought about how much I needed to write just to keep myself satisfied within the context of what I was dealing with. I don’t want to write about it for the same reasons. While I had to, a year ago, deal with losing Granny, now I don’t want to deal with the fact that she has been gone for a year.
Oh well. I will press onward.
I hate to admit it…but my interest in the National Football League is starting to diminish. I have always…and I mean for over forty years…been a root for the player and then the team kind of guy. Ken Anderson was my favorite player when I was a kid. He played for the Bengals. When he retired, I retired the Bengals. I was in no man’s land for over a decade. Then came along Peyton Manning. I rooted for him and the Colts. Now I root for him and the Broncos. I am a feared that is over too. Peyton looks like a shell of his old self. I hate to type that. I really do. It is rather painful to watch the old boy. I still watch though. I wait for that next touchdown pass.
I also root for the New York Giants because their quarterback is Eli Manning. He is my Ken Anderson of today. When he is gone, I will be a free agent. Trouble is I am not liking what I see out of the NFL. Soap operas about bad behavior. Inflated salaries. Some players seemingly playing for self-preservation rather than what is in the best interest of their team.
Maybe I will be a Vikings fan. I like Teddy Bridgewater. He is no bigger than a minute. But he plays larger than life. He is fun to watch. Oh well.
Twenty-nine years.
It was twenty-nine years ago this very minute that I was in the Louisville Gardens watching The Moody Blues play a concert. I thought they were old. I was 18. Graeme Edge, the drummer, was 45. I thought he was over the hill. Little did I know. I have tickets to see The Moodies on March 30th at The Louisville Palace. It will be Graeme Edge’s 75th birthday that day. How awesome is that? I say it often. I picked the right group.
The greatest compliment I ever received was when my friend Darrell Persinger looked at the picture above and said it looked as though Carrie, my dear wife, was getting her picture taken with the band.
I Know You’re Out There Somewhere.
Speak the Rights.
Danny Johnson