September 17, 2018

…as in, gone like yesterday. Sure, the temperatures here in the Valley of the Sun are still in the low 100s, but that’s soon gonna change, the sun’s angle is all askew, the shadows showing their length even at the noon hour, regardless of the heat. Most symbolically, I just opened my last Sam Adams Summer Ale of the year. After this it will likely be a mix of Octoberfest and Boston Lagers for a month or two before the Winter Lager starts drifting in.

This has been an unusual summer. Stressful, emotional, lots of sense of endings more so than beginnings (even though there have been a few of them as well). Of course, the whole process of moving my dad to his new retirement community digs has been a focal point, but I sense in my own way, whether it be at work, or the Goodboys, or just life in general, a change in philosophy, a realization that it’s all going away and I need to prepare for my own next phase of life. I’m not sure exactly what that all means, but I feel it coming in its own personal way.

Perhaps it’s just the realization that there is no longer a “place” for me anymore in Massachusetts: after all, my folks’ second bedroom was always a home away from home, a place I could just check into and out of whenever the spirit moved me, knowing I’d be welcomed there with open arms to hang around with my peeps. Now that’s gone. Whenever I go back now I’ll be no different than anyone else traveling back to that part of the country. Sure, I can grab a spot at my dad’s community guesthouse or a nearby hotel, but either way I’ll be paying for it and living there as a stranger. In other words, no more “home away from home”. It’s all gone.

Summer’s gone
Summer’s gone away
Gone away
With yesterday

Old friends have gone
They’ve gone their separate ways
Our dreams hold on
For those who still have more to say

Summer’s gone
Gone like yesterday
The nights grow cold
It’s time to go
I’m thinking maybe I’ll just stay

Summer’s gone
It’s finally sinking in
One day begins
Another ends
I live them all and back again

Summer’s gone
I’m gonna sit and watch the waves
We laugh, we cry
We live then die
And dream about our yesterday

Brian Wilson’s words pretty much sum up my life right now. What is left to say? What is left to do? Everything I’ve known and loved has changed, and not for the better. Whether it be at work this past year, or the past two Goodboys weekends, or my extended family since my mom and my Auntie Marge passed away, there’s just the sense that there’s nothing much left of my past and no point in wondering why or how that is. It’s just the passage of time. I recently – finally! – cleaned out all my religious books and artifacts from the mid-90s to the early 2000s (more on that in a later post). I’m sixty-two years old, five years or less from retirement, and then what? I guess what I’m saying is it might be time to find a new philosophy, outlook, and regimen. A new gig. A new self-identity.

But that all just sounds too complicated right now. For now, it’s good enough to enjoy the last Summer Ale of the year, think about all the things I’ve accomplished in helping my dad out, and try to focus on getting myself and my team disengaged from “The Client Who Shall Remain Nameless”. My goal is to be done with those clowns before my trip to Vegas the first weekend of December (when the $hit initially hit the fan last year and my last time there), and then just float my way through a hopefully-uneventful holiday season. Then maybe with the New Year and perhaps a fresh slate, think about what I want to accomplish in 2019. Maybe big changes, maybe not. Who knows, after all, what the future holds?

Filed in: Uncategorized by The Great White Shank at 22:35 | Comments (0)
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