A Signed Baseball. A Standing O. A Dad and His Son.
The Super Mario Bros. generation will get this. The game starts, you make your first move to get your first coin, and one of the little mushroom dudes kills you because your guard was down. Too early in the game to start paying attention. With the loss of one of your three lives so early, what do you do? Yup. Reset. Sometimes I’d even start over if I missed the secret green mushroom on board 1-1 that gave out the early 1UP. Can the Fortnite/Grand Theft Auto generation do this sort of thing?
I started typing this post in flight from LGA to BOS with my son. We took a father/son trip to NYC to catch one of the Subway Series games, Hamilton on Broadway, and get some sick eats in Little Italy. I see it as the end of his little school years, the end of my bad streak reprieve. Today I was in my new office while he started at a weightlifting club at his new high school. I feel a sense of peace. Hope is returning. I forgot what this kind of calm even felt like. Turns out, starting over isn’t a punishment – it’s a privilege. It seems like all is not lost. I like it.
Seven home runs were hit by both teams that day
In the Big Apple, I had a couple Zen moments that’ll sit with me for a long time. First, we got to Citi Field early so my son could camp out in Section 127 to see if he could catch some ink from the Yanks during warmups. He was wearing his commemorative Independence Day hat, and I picked up an official MLB baseball and a ballpoint…just in case. One of this year’s Cy Young candidates walked over and signed his ball…right on the sweet spot. Wow. That’d have been like the Doc, Dwight Gooden signing a ball for me.
My son has had a number of fixations over the years – like kids do. Thomas the Train, Caillou, Spider-Man, WWE, and now the UFC. At some point, it was Hamilton – the Broadway show. He caught it on Disney Plus and in no time memorized the lyrics to the songs and raps that make the show what it is. I had no clue what it was all about back then. And when I saw that a string of seats was going for the price of a used car, I was like NO WAY. Until Saturday – the two of us caught the matinee. If you haven’t seen it – you gotta. Get your tix around Row M if you can.
If I had to describe the show in one word, it would be Precision. I’ve never seen a group of people rap, sing, and dance…non-stop for nearly three hours, so, so perfectly. The fella who played George Washington’s voice is absurd – in the best possible way. Unforgettable. I learned more about Alex Hamilton in a few hours than I could have known in all the US History courses I’ve taken, and even taught combined. And Aaron Burr? We all know an Aaron Burr or two. You’ll leave the show not liking him.
The question that I have to ask is this…How does someone get so good at something that others travel from all over the planet just to watch them do it? I’ve had the same 24 hours per day as every one of those cast members. Yet never could I ever memorize the words to one of those songs, or dance with such perfection, even for a minute. They were so precise – even down to the facial expression. They got a standing ovation – not the kind where a few people stand and then others follow. It was quick – like people just knew they had to stand. And, I actually caught some of my fellow attendees crying. It was just that good.
It's been years since I’ve even enjoyed a break. The cold, hard fact of the matter is that if you’re in a compromised position – like I was – taking a break is just as stressful as not. You see, the whole time you’re trying to relax, you know that you gotta go back to a world you hate as soon as the break ends. I had to go back to a job where it felt like the people in charge cared more about numbers than kids. That still doesn’t sit right with me. Like, these people were actively working to ensure their own schools were incapacitated. I’ll never understand that. I want so much for my son when it comes to his education…to his everything.
The sidewalk overlooks this restaurant on 53rd. The Bills fan in him really eyed that table. For those who don’t know - Bills fans break a lot of tables.
Crappy relationships. Crappy jobs, and the ineptitude of your bosses are controllable. You feel trapped? Well, you don’t gotta be. There are things you can’t get away from, like health problems, being a caregiver for a sick or disabled relative, or the ticky tack things – like getting the car fixed or finding a new place to live. There are some things we have to find a way through. But saying no, or no more, to the things you can say no to is really important.
You don’t have to drink.
You don’t have to hide.
You don’t have to keep pretending that you're fine when you're not.
The truth is, every time life hits that hard reset – like Mario getting clipped by a Goomba on board 1-1 – we’re given a rare gift: the chance to start over, a little wiser this time, a little more aware of the traps, the timing, the rhythm. Maybe we’ve missed the green mushroom on the first go. However, we now know where it is.
This trip with my son? It felt like that.
Like finding a hidden 1UP after so many restarts. I used to think building a better life meant going back to the one I had before. But not anymore. I don’t want the old version of anything – old jobs, old habits, old illusions. I want what’s real. And I want to build it from the ground up. This time, with intention. With love. With precision.
I got to play chess in Bryant Park. The players there were excellent…I was not.
I’m not perfect. But I’m present. And when I looked over at my son during the play – I realized that being present might be the most powerful thing I can be. I only wish I’d have brought him to see it sooner. Maybe that’s what real success is. Not applause or status or perfection. But being awake in your own life.
So here’s to a fresh start. To walk into new spaces with your shoulders back and eyes open. Believing that joy isn’t something that’s behind us, but something still very much within reach.
Queue the music. Mario has some work to do.