"It Ain't no Sin to be Glad You're Alive"
Someday in the future, my kids will think about what they would like to do to make a living, generate income to support a family, etc. When you are young, you want to be musicians, doctors, athletes, actors, servicemen, or other occupations that are often glamorized in the movies or TV. You typically don't strive to be sales managers or accountants in your teens. Once college hits, you start to look at options, and often the job market dictates your choices, especially at graduation. I worked in restaurants from high school through college, often closing the place. Afterwards, I was fortunate in finding my means to an end. While frustrating and often bewildering, I mostly make my own choices on how I work.
This weekend, I played soccer with some of my friends that I hadn't seen in a while (I call it the UN, as we have Israeli, Palestinian, Iranian, Armenian, Russian, Italian, more). On the field, the passion can sometimes get a little crazy, as if there is somehow something at stake. Off the field, much more normalcy. Some of the guys are well into their 40's and up, never missing a weekend. My schedule doesn't offer me that flexibility. Anyway, we played a full 90 minutes in significant heat, and my wife was worried that it was too much (for a guy my age obviously). The policy has always been that I was allowed to play as long as it didn't interfere with the schedule for the rest of the day. No matter how tired I get, how much chemotherapy I endured, how much I overdid it the night before, or how many stitches I may require, taking care of the family afterwards is not an option. After a few brownies, a quart of pomegranate juice and a pint of blueberries, I had enough steam to take #3 on the ferry to Manhattan to see the Cirque Dreams matinee. Balance is everything.
Sunday brought some bad news. After a nice morning lounging in bed, sleepaway camp sent out an email telling about one of the parents who had drowned off Long Island in the riptides. He was 42-years old and had two daughters at the camp. It happens but it still hits home. The Springsteen concert was a necessary distraction afterward. I don't know if it was me, but it seemed that the Boss' song choices were more of a mix of lost childhood, as opposed to being more political. There wasn't much of the sermonizing about the state of the union. He seemed to let the songs convey the message of innocence lost, and a longing for a time when you could be with your friends and simply "get in the car and drive" somewhere else. The concert lasted a full 3 1/2 hours, with no break. I thought about the current Presidential political campaign. If I was to analyze it politically, the songs not played would have been vilified in the press.
Unfortunately, there is no "somewhere else" anymore. And just like my soccer game, the morning in bed, and an evening with friends, eventually all good things come to an end. Life is a marathon of sprints, so to speak.
My wife and I joke about #2 in all likelihood being in a garage band in the future. Since #3 typically does the same as #2, we may be in for an interesting future. I'll put in writing now that if this is their passion, I will support it. As long as there is balance.
