It's Too Quiet

Yesterday was controlled chaos.

The sounds, the cheers, the overtime, the touchdown.

Then? Chris Erway had to get to New Jersey and Greenwich athletic director Gus Lindine locked up my booth and I stood there.

I finished packing and left Greenwich High School.

There's another game to come -- on Tuesday night at Fairfield Prep. I'm planning (hoping) to be on that call.

But I drove home in silence.

Then I walked upstairs.

The house was full. There was laughter and food and conversation and deep thoughts and jokes (some at my expense).

Then everyone was gone and it was down to Sean, Rascal, and me.

Then I wrote about it and probably got too personal.

Thanks for the responses and to the one person who thought yesterday's game-winning call was "iconic." I wasn't actually looking for the pick-me-up from anyone but I can't say I didn't appreciate it.

Now? It's silent. Rascal is quietly at my feet as I type in a cold house with one of my grandmother's famous blankets providing warmth.

I'm waiting for a pizza to arrive.

The scene is pretty glum, chum.

I wanted today to be more than it's been.

I wanted to do more cleaning of the house than I did. Not to say I didn't. The vacuum came out (again) and I wiped down the dining room and put things back to where they were before Wednesday.

All in all, Thanksgiving here was a rousing success.

Still, I didn't get to clean the basement or the attic or the office or anything else. I wanted today to be my own "Black Friday" by beginning what I think will be a cathartic purge of a lot of "stuff."

It didn't happen.

So, OK! Let's make different use of the day! The Lads will help!

I bought Disney + and have since canceled it because they can't make things easy. I will likely go back to it eventually but I have it for a month.

I'll get it back.

Get...Back.

Get Back.

Yeah. I kill me.

Obviously, I got it for one reason. Or four. Or five with Yoko. Maybe six with Linda. But, really, four (and Yoko).

It's an intense watching process that I've taken multiple breaks from. It's not something to live tweet during or treat as background noise. For me, at least, it requires paying attention.

It's a roller coaster of stuff going on.

With the TV off, it's incredibly silent in here, save for the sound of my typing.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I don't mind being alone. Really, I don't, and the presence of the squeaky cat keeps me company.

I don't like being alone in this way.

So I'll get back to The Beatles.

Where I once belonged.