Toll House Vs. My House

I ate an entire batch of Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies on Sunday. With skim milk, but still.

I read recently that the average age for a man of my generation is expected to be 77-years-old. (I’ve also read that the average age for a man of Ethan’s age will be 100, which sucks for me, but is great for him, and couldn’t happen to a better guy.) Being that I’m pushing thirty-four and all, well, mid-life has been top of mind.

Sure, I run marathons and triathlons. And sure, I generally eat pretty well. I’m not that large (though I often feel like I am). But I’ve wrestled with pot. I’ve wrestled with nicotine. And I do love ice cream and beer.

When my mother called last night to tell me that her best friend, Suzanne, had died, well, it got me thinking. Is it about the instant? Or all time? Is it about ice cream? Or longevity?

I hope that I’ve relished the moments in my life. I certainly have the last ten years, as I emerged from the haze of adolescents and drugs. Honestly, even at my worst, I always paused to appreciate beauty: friendships, vistas, sweets.

It’s not like I hadn’t considered my achievements, or my legacy, prior to this loss, or recent statistic. And frankly, I don’t have much to show for 34-years-old. Sure, I’ve released a few records. Maybe I’ve written a good song or two. And maybe those songs or this site have moved a few souls or altered a few lives (I’m not being narcissist; I’m just hoping based on the periodic email). But let’s be honest: my day job’s not doing much to enrich the deep and simple dialogue.

So I guess the next chapter is about the good works, and the legacy: the Mr. Rogers documentary, the book, and perhaps — no, definately — most importantly: the children. My children. My faceless, nameless, genius, excellent, loving children.

Because Suzanne achieved a lot. She was a great teacher, a great spirit, a great friend, and most importantly — and most lastingly — a great mother. Michael, T, Daniel and Becca are a living, breathing legacy to that. That’s the greatest expenditure of a lifetime of all.