Found My Theme Song

"Devil Don't Sleep" by Jim Allchin


I tell myself I won't go back, to the wrong side of the tracks,
but it seems like every day there's temptation standing in my way.
A man gets weak, and the Devil don't sleep

The doctor says I drink too much,
we all die but what's the rush.
I watch my weight, I try to eat right,
it's a daily struggle and a losing fight,
'cause a man gets weak, and the Devil don't sleep

Oh well, the things I love are as bad as hell,
and what I hate will make me well.
Satan's after this soul of mine,
wants my name on that dotted line.

I give my time to help the poor,
and I give money to find a cure.
I'm trying to live just like I should,
but it ain't easy trying to be good.
A man gets weak, and the Devil don't sleep.
A man gets weak, and the Devil don't sleep.

A man gets weak, and the Devil don't sleep.

You Never Know

Possible beginning to a story:

Had a friend named Julio "CrackBack Block" MaGoo. He was first violinist first chair for The Boston Symphony Orchestra.

He's dead now.

No More Games

Let's review.

The 2018/2019 NFL season was spectacular. AND......

THE NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS are Super Bowl champs again. For the sixth fucking time.

Only two teams have done that in the 99 year history of the NFL.

Mind blowing.

I am at peace.

I am going to buy myself a Super Bowl LIII sweatshirt, cost be damned. I don't do that often but my soul dictates that I must.

I am also lost. I threw myself into this past season. I cannot tell you why. It just felt right. I have pledged to do that 98 times in the past and came up short. Don't know what it was about me that allowed me to commit so deeply.

I say I am going to do a lot of things. I don't do them. I am not good at follow through. I don't know why.

I could glibly say that I am a free spirit, that pinning myself down to anything sucks the oxygen out of my lungs. This, of course, would explain why I am lost and rudderless at the age of 65.

I could say I am lazy. I could say that I just don't fucking care about anything. I could say that I don't take anything seriously since my life - that big, bad, thing that I am living - is so foreign to me that everything else seems absolutely ludicrous.

What I will say is that this past NFL season gave me more happiness than I have experienced in a while.

Happiness is not a word I use often. I occasionally consider striking it permanently from my vocabulary.

I watched a ton of football, I gobbled up a ton of analysis. I also read a lot about football. I read "Big Game - The NFL In Dangerous Times", by Mark Leibovich. I just this morning finished "America's Game", by Michael MacCambridge. I am about to read "Slow Getting Up: A Story of NFL Survival from the Bottom of the Pile", by Nate Jackson.

I am not going to analyze this. I am content to know that from August to February I enjoyed regular hits of happiness. From "Hard Knocks" to The Super Bowl.

I hope to do the same next year. I hope to feel the same next year. But you never know. I am not good at follow through.

Right now I am down.

Had to work Monday (although I went in quite late after making merry with Ed, Carolina, Carol and Keith the night before), so that sludged up my mind. Yesterday I watched THE PATS parade. I don't usually do that but it felt right yesterday.

Started today with a two hour stint at the dentist, so that was just wonderful. Now I am here. My face is numb, my spirits are down.

No football. No more games.

Maybe I'll sign up for a zumba class.

I might take a deep dive into The Bruins. However I always say that but perform erratically. Because I am not good at................

Enormous satisfaction and wonder from another PATS championship. Massive let down from football withdrawal.

6 months and 1 week of high intensity adrenaline shots of sky high happiness.

Life is a bitch; you gotta take what you can get.