Audible

Omaha! Omaha!

August 29, 2025, I had planned to get my actual hair styled, a woman’s cut. One week prior, I got dressed and went to the salon only to be told my appointment was one week later (yep, I showed up one week early). So, this time, I got dressed again, with the idea of going out and about with my newly styled hair. I got dressed, did my makeup and then the phone rang. My stylist (a friend) was sick, and I had to reschedule.

So now I am dressed and have nothing to do… I headed across town and decided to play pickleball (as Kandi, not as simple as my usual pickleballing). I show up, no one is there. I decided I would give it 15 minutes and then a lovely lady showed up. She is quite a few years my senior (yes, there are people older than me) and she said she expected some others to show up. The truth of the matter is I could absolutely obliterate her at the game. So I went into casual mode. She and I played singles for a while until two other folks showed up. I haven’t felt that young in quite a while.

We played a game and the gentleman I was paired with was, shall we say, not very good. He decided to sit and watch (good idea) and I played one-on-two against the other two ladies for three games. I won all the games easily, but I played it straight, only simply trying to return any shot. It ended up being a nice way to spend a few hours with nice people. Here is my outfit, which you may have already seen recently. Yeah, playing dressed like this is awesome, as you might imagine. This is an example of what I call, simply “being”. Being me, being female (I was always referred to as “she”), being competitive, just being.

After ballin’ I (no surprise here) had a beverage at my favorite hangout and then decided to do the weekly grocery shopping dressed, instead of going home and cleaning up before doing so. Great idea! As I struggled (when you are in an unfamiliar grocery store vs. the one you regularly shop, it’s hard finding things) to get what I needed, I had one encounter after another where I was simply treated, like any other cute elderly woman in a tennis dress. As an aside, it was freezing in there! One lady even commented to me that I must be cold (a lovely little interaction). I asked to find things, other patrons said a few kind things to me, the cashier was lovely, it was a great experience.

The day prior to Labor Day, August 31, 2025, what’s a girl to do….

I always try to synchronize my day with respect to my wife’s work schedule and staying out of the way as she gets ready for work. So, it was an early pickleball morning to get my daily exercise in and stay out of the way, then time to decide what to do. I deliberated between two different options. Of course, the beach. Bikini, free, cute tan lines, favorite area hangs, but it was not the warmest of days. Plus, yeah, I know, you are all probably sick of my year in swimsuits. The other option is one I hadn’t done since the pandemic, visit an amazing antique mall in Medina. Both options could not have been farther apart logistically within the area, both 45+ minute drives for me.

I opted for Medina and could not have been happier!! I love casually antiquing, and I hadn’t been at this fabulous place in a few years. I love creating wallscapes. My office is covered in album covers, rock pics, family pics, things that mean something to us. I created a memory wall in our basement with things that are about us: pictures of parents, children, our alma maters, on and on. You have seen pictures in front of my album wall. You will not see pictures in front my Boston Marathon wall (boy me) or my wife’s love of her life, our Michael Stanley wall (okay with me, Google him, listen to his amazing musical legacy and you are welcome for the referral). There is also my alma mater wall and our sports wall with pennants and placards from all (children, my wife and me) of our high schools, colleges, my grad school and Cleveland sports past and present.

I had a fabulous day in Medina, and I picked up nine things that mean something, from bands we love to things about our youth or our hometown. If I was rich, I would have picked up a few more things. The gift of the day was a young lady telling me how much she loved my outfit. She had no reason to do that; I was in a place that would not necessarily have engendered “acceptance”. This was special, given where I was. Thank you dear!

Now I have to figure out what to do with the framed Beatles poster, the framed Dave Matthews Rolling Stone cover from 2001, the Tom Petty and Ohio State placards, the Cleveland Indians 70’s helmet and the signed Paul Warfield photo (Browns, not Dolphins, when the Browns weren’t the absolute shitshow they have been for decades). My number in all circumstances, as a high school football player and always after, has and always will be 42, in tribute to this wonderful human being. My youth was shaped by two professional athletes, Paul Warfield (42) and Roberto Clemente (21). My roots are from the Pittsburgh area (my entire family that preceded my birth) although I was born and adore my hometown, Cleveland, Ohio. We have everything one would want (two actual professional sports teams and the Clowns, the second largest theater district after Broadway, a world class orchestra and art museum, restaurants as great as any city on the planet, the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and on and on and on….) except for the fucked up football franchise. Please look beyond a moron owner, treasure this city.

Now let’s look at an outfit I am proud of. I picked this jacket up easily eight years ago and could never figure out how she should be worn. Hey dumbshit, white on white and then go from there.

Bingo!

This post ended up being very prescient. The title belied its actual posting. I screwed up and set the launch for PM and not AM, so we post it late and let it run for a day and a half. I guess it doesn’t help when (as you will soon read) I was on a movie set yesterday until 1:30AM and had to get up for work (after driving home, cleaning up and “sleeping” for about an hour) at 4:30AM.