Earl B's Number -- A Redux
This is a reposting of a piece I wrote last Fall. It speaks to me, as I hear Dad's voice in it. Happy Father's Day Dad. I miss you everyday! RIP
Earl B believed everybody has a number, immovable, irrefutable. Single, double, or triple digits, doesn’t matter. It’s there, same as your blood type and fingerprint.
He’d say you can wear your seatbelt, or not, smoke alot, smoke less, don't smoke, eat well, eat poorly, exercise, or not, get little sleep or lots. Doesn’t matter, your number’s your number. When your number’s up, he’d say, that’s it, you’re done. Game over. He would say he lived that way, not worrying about what he couldn’t control nor about what he could. It wouldn’t matter, anyway, he’d say. My day’s my day, my number’s my number. It’ll come and I’ll go. ‘See ya!’
Great one Rich
HFD to one of the greats
You get a real sense of your Dad from this piece, and the other stuff you write about him, Rich. I like his philosophy, but maybe I’m not brave enough to take it to its logical limits. Still - I had a great fried breakfast this morning. A full English as we say, and whatever my number is, I can feel it in my arteries right now. :)