“I get the news I need on the weather report,
I can gather all the news I need on the weather report”

I can’t help it, it just happens.

I woke up this morning singing “The Only Living Boy in New York.”  I have been belting it out all day.

Don’t we all just want to get all the news we need on the weather report these days?

We are now in week two of the official escalation of Coronavirus pandemic.

Life has changed for all of us.

For those lucky enough to be still working it’s not business as usual by any means.   Working from home is the case for many, or shortened hours; reduced staff; “take out” only.

Shopping continues to be challenge, especially for certain items.

Hopefully you don’t have colonoscopy scheduled any time soon.

But even if you did those elective medical procedures are probably canceled anyway.

Sporting events are going on with no one in the stands or not at all.

My “first Saturday in May” event, the Kentucky Derby, will this year be the “first Saturday in September,”Labor Day weekend.

And my daughter Alexa has officially proclaimed the Maryland Terrapins 2020 NCAA Champs daring anyone to prove her wrong.

And of course, if you are a church, you are preaching to the camera on Sundays with no one in the pews while on Friday afternoon your lone staff person is belting out “The Only Living Boy in New York.”

 

Then there are those who are not working at all.  Their lives have really changed.

“Hey, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile,
Da-n-da-da-n-da-da-n-da-da and here I am”

Many with nothing to do today, but hopefully still smiling.

 

I spoke with my mother on the phone earlier today.

One of the highlights of my dad’s day is his “coffee break” which for him is kind of a mid to late morning time for some food and coffee and rest that goes back to his days as a crabber and a waterman.  It could be out at the table by the river or on the deck or in the house depending on the weather.  Or if they happen to be up in Cambridge, the closest and biggest town near them like they happened to be this morning, it could be at a restaurant, or McDonalds, or Royal Farms.  My dad no longer drives so this morning he asked my mother to stop for coffee break and of course she couldn’t and had to explain to him that everything is take out.

My mom said my dad is having trouble understanding that.

I get it, it’s hard to change your routine.  I understand, but it’s hard.  Especially for old guys, ninety-year-old guys who don’t have a lot of options for fun activities even without a pandemic.

He wants his “coffee break.”

 

One of the highlights of my week again came from a post on the Oceanport Centennial Facebook page belonging to my New Jersey hometown.

Someone posted a photo of my dad sitting on a little desk on the job at the Wolf Hill School.

My dad was the head custodian at the Wolf Hill School which had grades K through 4 or K through 5 depending on the year.  He started in that position the year my younger brother started Kindergarten so maybe 1966 and retired about 28 years ago so maybe 1992?  So, for about 25 years or so he worked at that school.

It got a lot of comments:

“Great guy to work with”

“So great with the kids!”

“Love him”

“He would sweep…with Mrs. Jeffrey’s class pet hamster in his shirt pocket”

“He would sing to me my own special song”

“great guy’

“The best”

“A true hero”

“Wonderful sense of humor”

“True work ethic”

“Amazing guy”

“Such a nice man”

“What a terrific man”

“Loved us kids and we loved him”

“What a wonderful man”

“One of my fondest memories”

“Deserves nothing but the best!”

 

Gee whiz Pop, I hope when I am your age someone will even just remember me.  Probably be more like “yeah, I remember that guy, he gave me a cold once…”

 

And then there was this comment:

“Remember the notes on the black boards from Mr. Nobody?”

 

Mr. Nobody?

From one aging nobody to another, I had never heard that story.

So, I asked the nice lady who posted that comment to tell me more.  Here was her response:

I believe he only did it with the lower grades because I only remember it happening in 1st grade with Mrs. Bennett. When we were out of the room someone would mysteriously leave little notes on the black board and signed them Mr. Nobody. They were short messages like have a nice day or be good children, I’m watching, etc. We would be so surprised and excited when we got a note. I didn’t know until probably 4th or 5th grade who it was.  (Tara)

Hey Pop!

Hey Mr. Nobody!

Reading all these comments, it doesn’t sound like you are nobody to me.

Sounds to me like the kids thought you were pretty special.

 

In three weeks, Mr. Nobody will celebrate his 91^st birthday.

I am hoping this pandemic doesn’t keep me away from visiting him for too long.

I would like to thank all you nice folks for all the nice comments about my dad.

I can’t wait to get out there to share them with him.

 “Hey, let your honesty shine, shine, shine
Like it shines on me
The only living boy in New York”

 

Yeah Pop, like it shines on me…

Happy early birthday Pop!

 

Oh, and let me not forget to thank all you healthcare workers who, like our soldiers in war, are reporting for duty every day, then going home and taking care of your own families. We are grateful and praying for your safety!

 

(The Only Living Boy in New York, written by Paul Simon, performed by Simon and Garfunkel)