Tomorrow is Pie Day. Obviously not the day we eat the pies. That comes on Thursday. But it is the day for making the pies for the day we’ll eat them. It was the day Lauren and I made the pies for Thanksgiving. Some years we weren’t living in the same town, so we had to make pies over video conferences. But it was our day for making the pies. This year will be my second Thanksgiving without Lauren. It will be my first Thanksgiving without Zoe since 2008. And it’ll be my twenty-ninth Thanksgiving without Dad. So Pie Day will be a little sad this year. A little sadder, even, than last year, my first without Lauren since 1997. But… This will be my seventh Thanksgiving with Diane, Brett, Stephanie, and Charlie. It will be my forty-first Thanksgiving with Jon and Brady. It will be the sixty-fourth Thanksgiving with Mom and Malinda. Oh, sure, we don’t always have the opportunity to physically be in the same place for Thanksgiving. But I’m thankful for them being in my life nonetheless. On T...
Before launching into my Super Bowl XLVIII prediction, I have to make one thing clear: I am an Oakland Raiders fan. Perhaps that’s understating things by a factor of about 10,000. I have been an Oakland Raiders fan since 1968. Cut me and I bleed Silver & Black™. Just Win, Baby™. Commitment to Excellence™. I mean, just take a look at a sampling from the ’68 Raiders: Pete Banaszak (RB) Fred Biletnikoff (WR) George Blanda (QB) Willie Brown (DB) Billy Cannon [1] Ben Davidson The Mad Bomber, Daryle Lamonica [2] Double Ought, Jim Otto Art Shell (before he was a catatonic coach) Gene Upshaw (before he sold out NFL players) Warren Wells George Atkinson I started watching football the year before, in 1967. I grew up in Northern California but was actually a fan of the Rams. More specifically, I was a fan of Roman Gabriel [3] , Jack Snow, Les Josephson, and the greatest defensive front four in history: Deacon Jone...
It's OK to ask me about Her. Don't be concerned that mentioning Her will bring Her to mind and make me sad. She's never not on my mind. And I'll always be sad that She's gone. But I'll also always be happy that I had Her in my life. Not just happy...blessed. I will always think of Her. Every day. Some days, all day. Those days can be really heavy. But when you ask me about Her, it tells me you cared about Her, me, or both of us. That makes the heavy just a little bit lighter. On the less heavy days, asking me about Her makes me smile. I think of some silly thing She did that made me laugh. Or some crazy thing She did that made me shake my head. But it always reminds me how fortunate I was to have Her in my life for 27 years. I don't talk about Her nearly as much as I think about Her. I don't want you to have to feel the heavy. So even though I talk about Her sometimes, I keep most of it to myself. And that can be a little bit lonely. But that's OK....
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