by Tom Papa
Lou is a talented lawyer and I love hearing about the cases he’s working on. He’s a natural adviser and always has a very practical and well-thought-out point of view on things. He was the first guy I drank with as a freshman in high school, and when our parents found out, Lou showed his early legal prowess as he got us all out of trouble. He was always the brains of our operation. His nickname back then was Grandpa, which spoke to his wise and elevated stature among us wayward grandchildren.
Dave recently joined a country club and now wears collared shirts to play golf. We never would have pictured that back in high school when he was riding around on his motorcycle, getting into fights with the arrogant upperclassmen who looked like their dads belonged to country clubs.
He says that his club is different from those other ones and that it’s a lot of guys just like him. That must mean they like to drink. Dave’s involved in a long love affair with Tito’s Vodka. They both seem very happy.
The Yanks are really making a mess of things today. This new pitcher has let up two home runs already. They’ve made three errors and this lowly Baltimore team is soundly beating us. These days we all look to Aaron Judge, and even he looks sleepy. The fan behind us is getting drunker and he’s not so funny anymore.
Lou bought us another round of beers. I found a short line and grabbed a bunch of waffle fries. Dave just made a crack about the Orioles to the drunk guy. Some of his high school ways are coming through, and although it may lead to a fight I have to admit that I’d like to see it.
What makes sharing this day together so great is that we don’t have to get to know each other. I know things about them that no one else knows: their first loves, their failures, and all their successes. It’s nice to still be with people who were actually there at your most embarrassing and ugly moments. We can all be ourselves because there’s nothing left to hide.
My friends aren’t perfect. Nobody is. As a matter of fact, it’s the flaws that sometimes make a person more interesting. Being a friend means having the ability to let some of their bad behavior go. We can’t be perfectly aligned with anyone. So why should we expect that from our friends or family?
I have friends that spit their food when they talk. I have friends who refuse to pay a penny more than what they spent on a bill at lunch. I have a friend I would probably never hang out with if I had just met him but I’ve known him so long he’s grandfathered in.
The common thing about them all is that they’re fun to talk to. We make each other laugh. And we care about each other. And that’s enough. We could all do with a little more forgiveness these days.
But these Yankees have given up on this game, and that’s unforgivable. The Baltimore fan got into a fistfight, thankfully not with Dave.
We’ve had a pretty good streak. The Yankees have won most of the games we’ve come to. But not today. We stumble to the subway, cram in with a bunch of other fans, and head downtown. It’s time to smoke a cigar, drink some more, eat some more, and try and hang on to the clock. Slow down the time. Until next year.
It’s not a mistake that we get together at a game. This is the group who we learned to play around with. We have inside jokes that are over thirty years old. We cut school, played hooky, and ran away to the beach. We learned from each other that it was important to break out of our lives for a bit and enjoy ourselves as much as possible. We knew each other as children and even now that’s who we see. And that’s why, all these years later, despite an ocean of responsibility, we won’t be working today.
We’ll be at the game.
HAVE YOU EVER BEEN SO WIRED ON SUGAR THAT YOU JUMPED ON YOUR DOG’S BACK AND RODE HIM AROUND LIKE A HORSE? MY KIDS HAVE …
GET A DOG
Get a dog. Stop your whining about life and focusing on all the bad stuff that can and does go wrong and get a damn dog.
I know, you’ve been thinking about it, weighing the pros and cons. Just get a dog.
I say this as someone who doesn’t like hassle and doesn’t enjoy having his stuff ruined. But we got one and I have been converted. Get a dog.
There’s a dog under my desk right now. And she’s totally annoying, growling at every person who walks up the sidewalk in front of my house, acting like a fierce guard dog protecting me from that little old lady and her Chihuahua.
We weren’t going to do it. We are cat people. I like a nice cat because they fit the style of my favorite relationships. They are independent, swing in on their own, drop by for some love when they need it, and move on. But I also have children and kids want a dog. They all do. We all did. And I’m a sucker for the textbook narratives of life, so I made them a deal. When the cats die we get a dog. I was only half joking. And only one of the cats died, but they were so upset that it felt like it was time to get the dog.
There are certain decisions that you make in life, for your family, that have that extra weight. That extra little oomph. As the parents you have power. And a lot of times you wield that power in very practical ways to keep the family safe, provide for them, and all those other boring, life-sustaining things. But every once in a while you get to use your power for pure fun. You unleash a major decision based on nothing but love and joy, and the people rejoice.
And when you make these decisions, there is nothing more fun than dropping it on everybody. You sit at dinner going through the routine, and then you make an announcement: We are going to Disney. We’re putting in a pool. We’re cutting school tomorrow. We are getting a dog.
As you can see from the list these are limited, these don’t happen all the time. If you are superrich and you try and get the same juice every year out of announcing yet another vacation to Europe, it won’t happen. These decisions and announcements and proclamations have power in their rarity. These announcements are so rare and so much fun to make that I understand if you get a dog just so you can tell your family that you are getting one. I would say that telling them you are getting a dog is about 90 percent of the fun of getting one.
I love the secret parent meetings, too. In hushed tones, as if you are planning an attack on a foreign country, you hatch the plan. And then launch it on them. We told our kids at the table, which is a great place for most things. The table, where we eat and share and grow stronger. You can keep your living room with its fancy cushions and tempting movie viewing and video game playing. Keep your soft recliner by the fireside. This isn’t one of those times. Give me a hard yet comfortable chair. Give me a table where we have had hard discussions and celebrated our victories. Where we have poured wine and broken bread. Where special tablecloths have been set and the seldom-used glassware came out. The table where we have meals as simple as a quick breakfast out of a cereal bowl to the most glorious of all Thanksgiving meals.
No, it is at the table where I will announce to my people that “your mother and I have made a decision. We are getting a dog.”
Mayhem! Forks are dropped. Milk spit. Children rise from their chairs and start dancing around. Tears are shed. This is no longer a routine meal. This has been turned into a celebration. And it has ceased being a discussion. It is no longer a debate. We are getting a dog!
A side note, for those of you who live alone or even with one other person or even a strange roommate. You will enjoy this part of getting a dog just as much because once your decision has been made you are changing. You are different. And that difference is your heart opening up and growing just a little bit, just from making this decision. You are like the Grinch holding one of those silvery ornaments.
Now where are you going to get your dog? Loaded question, right? We all know the fierce debates and the quick judgments in making this decision, and you can come under attack for even thinking that you get your dog from one of those breeders. But frankly, I don’t care. Just get a dog. If you are rich and you want one of those fancy Westminster Dog Show purebred pointers, go for it. There are good breeders, horrible puppy mills, and there are a zillion dogs out there in need of rescue and adoption. That’s what we
did and it’s not so we can feel justified in our goodness at cocktail parties. It’s just the way it shook out.
To be honest, I liked the idea of getting a golden retriever from a fancy, well-respected breeder. I would like to tell you that it was after a deep philosophical debate that I changed my mind, but honestly it was the fact that it cost five thousand dollars for one of these arrogant animals that changed my tune.
And truly, I am a mutt person. I married a mutt. I am a mutt. We’re mutts! We are not purebred. Leave the golden retrievers for the Kennedys. Let the corgis run around Buckingham Palace. We got a dog that seems like she’s mostly a black Lab with something else mixed in who was found on the side of the road in Bakersfield. Is our dog going to win a big blue ribbon in some dog show? No, she is not. But like any runaway in Bakersfield, you know she has a story to tell. This dog has seen some stuff. And unlike a dog that was born in a mansion, this dog is happy to be here. This dog is happy to be anywhere.
We found her on the internet. We started looking at rescue places near us. Adoption agencies. The ASPCA. All fun places to look and all with pretty decent websites that, unlike my own, are updated every day. There are current photos of the actual animal you could adopt sitting right there on your laptop. And these places are honest. They’ll let you know if a puppy is crazy active or kind of shy or gets upset when it hears Barry Manilow songs.
After spending some time on these sites, we started to feel like we were on some kind of dating site. Not unlike what you do when trying to find a date, you scroll and look and think and analyze and then someone just hits you. For some reason, probably chemistry or maybe just good lighting, someone stands out and you just know. And my wife knew. She stood up from the desk, grabbed her keys, scooped up our youngest daughter, and without saying goodbye was screeching out of the driveway. I looked at the laptop and there was the culprit. A tiny black Lab puppy with love in her eyes sending a secret message for us to come and get her.
If you want to take all the decision making out of the equation, bring a child with you to the adoption agency. Within minutes of their being there we received a text of my daughter with this puppy in her lap. Holding a dog that she was never going to let go of. If we decided not to take the dog home, not only would we not be coming home with a dog but we would be living with one fewer child. She would have gladly lived in the cage with her and never seen us again.
When a new family member comes into your home you immediately are forced to do for someone other than yourself. Isn’t that what love is all about? Thinking and doing for others. Rather than sitting around and thinking about your feelings and your stomach and your day, you are now rushing around grabbing blankets for a bed, picking up things that could be choked on. There is another heartbeat in the house and you can hear it and want it to be okay.
And there’s nothing more fun than a trip to the pet store. This place filled with nothing more than fun stuff for animals. Squeaky toys, fun-looking ropes, things you never even thought about before. And what about a bowl? Or a little T-shirt? Or maybe a hat? Oh my God, look at this little hat with bunny ears on it. Should we get this hat? We have to get this hat!
We rescued a puppy. Great for photos. They smell great. There’s nothing cuter on the planet than the baby versions of anything, and the baby version of a black Lab will just about melt you into jelly immediately. But holy cow, are they a lot of work. There is definitely something to getting an older dog.
An old dog has been around. An old dog knows where to pee and the difference between a stick and a table leg. They’ve been with people before and they are what they are and you can’t teach them new tricks because they know their tricks and you either like ’em or you don’t. And best of all, they like to sleep.
I would encourage you to get a lazy dog as well. A big fat lazy ball of fur that you have to coax outside for a walk. Bella is filled with more energy than a burning star and we can’t keep up. I want a pillow with eyes. What I got was a thoroughbred horse that wants to run across the prairies.
But hey, love is work. I don’t want to harp on the hardships because that’s beside the point. Being married is a lot of work. Raising my children is a lot of work. But it’s the kind of work that you don’t think about because you are going to do it no matter what.
She has lived with us now for three years. And honestly it’s only in the last year that I really got it. The affection. The joy. The squeezing her. The transformation that she has made on the house. When I’m on the road I think about my dog. I like saying “my dog.” Where’s my dog?
I want to travel with my dog. I want to wrestle with my dog. And squeeze her. And throw a frisbee with her. And despite all my protesting, and acting like the dog is a pain in the ass, I really am in love. And even worse, I’m thinking about getting another one.
Maybe I’ll announce it tonight when we’re all at the table.
HAVE YOU EVER SKIPPED TO THE END OF A BOOK TO FIND OUT THE ENDING AND REALIZED IT WAS JUST A BUNCH OF RANDOM ESSAYS? YES, YOU HAVE.
AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR
This is a list of all the great things out there in the world that we take for granted. A bunch of small stuff that you can have right now while you’re wasting time longing for that trip to Fiji or the day you’ll be able to buy a Ferrari. I have not been paid by any of these fine products, artists, or companies; I just really like them a lot and use them as rewards as I go about my days. So here’s a list of favorite things:
1. DORITOS
Come on! I don’t know what secret lab they have, but the Doritos people have been killing it for a long time. Are they decadent? Yes. Are they bad for you? Probably. Do I have any idea what’s in them? Not a clue and I’m not asking.
I haven’t eaten them with any regularity since high school, but every once in a while, when I’m in a gas station or buzzing through an airport, I grab a bag and my day is transformed.
My favorite is the Cool Ranch. Everything from the blue bag, the cool label, and the perfect combination of cool, spicy, and cheesy gets me every time. This past summer my nephew Ben, a Doritos connoisseur, introduced me to some new flavors that I’ve been missing. With orange powder around his lips, he introduced me to Poppin’ Jalapeño, Spicy Sweet Chili, and something so hot they just call it Blaze. My nephew really likes Jacked, which are ranch-dipped hot wings.
From what I can tell, the Doritos people focus primarily on extreme heat and blowing the top of your head off. I guess, as with any other highly addictive drug, you have to increase the potency to keep them coming back for more. I’m hooked for life.
2. OSCAR PETERSON
A child was born in Montreal in 1925 and his immigrant Indian parents named him Oscar Peterson. At age five he began playing piano under the guidance of his father. He practiced up to six hours a day throughout his childhood and was introduced to jazz and eventually became one of the greatest piano players of all time.
All of this was unknown to me until about five years ago, and now I listen to him every day. I’m listening to him right now and I’ve never heard anything like him.
He played with Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, and Miles Davis. He formed jazz trios with the very best musicians in the world, and always his piano was at the center.
With an ever-present white handkerchief in his pocket, he sat at the piano like it was the only place in the world he was supposed to be. A large, heavyset man with large, powerful, yet feather-like hands, he didn’t play the piano as much as become a part of it.
He played with incredible skill and versatility, but more than that he played with his entire being. Everything about the man, about all mankind, came through his music. The hard times, the fun times, the real times. But always tinged with hope and joy that spread across his face and seemed to light up the world whenever he smiled.
His playing elevated his fellow musicians and continues to raise up everyone who listens to it.
And lucky you, you can listen to him right now.
The best candy bar of all time. I’m sure you have your favorite and I’ll be happy to hear your case in your book, but on these pages I am allowed and required to crown this perfect nougat-and-chocolate concoction as the undisputed champ.
They’re amazing and underrated and now you have a reason to buy one the next time you are staring at that wall of candy under the cash register. A York Peppermint Pattie ain’t so bad either.
4. DAIRY QUEEN
There was a Dairy Queen down the road from my high school. It was a freestanding ice-cream stand that looked like something out of a Steven Spielberg version of the 1950s. A giant soft-serve cone outlined in glowing neon lit up the parking lot and put all the customers under a magical glow as they stood in line at the two small windows to place their order.
It seemed like one endless summer night with everyone in the town eventually coming through. Parents trying to keep track of their children in line. Young lovers holding hands, publicly displaying their affection for the first time. Groups of friends, coworkers, and the occasional single adult sneaking themselves a treat on the way home.
And that’s the only reason that anyone was there—a treat. Double swirl cones, sprinkle-covered sundaes, or my favorite, the Blizzard. The Butterfinger Blizzard. (That’s right.) It’s soft-serve vanilla ice cream mixed in a cup with a couple of crumbled-up Butterfinger bars, so thick that they turn them upside down to show you how thick they are.
The best part of this memory from my childhood is that I can still visit it. There are Dairy Queens all around the country offering the same menu and the same experience that made me happy when I was young. But returning to the exact one, at the exact spot, is unparalleled.