Life Between "CBS Sunday Mornings"

Life Between “CBS Sunday Mornings”

By John R. Greenwood

It’s Sunday morning once again, it’s cold out and the staff of the Weather Channel sound like Red Bull infused pre-game analysts at the Super Bowl. 

There’s another winter storm sweeping the east coast and I’m sitting on the couch with a laptop nestled appropriately.

This winter has been the real deal. It’s like the winters I remember as a kid; the ones where you prayed for a snow day, cleared the dining room table and got the Monopoly Game out.

Life is different now than it was when I was a young man and the kids were small. They’re grown men now with families and responsibilities of their own. It’s Mrs. G and me now, no pets, less have-to’s, more me-dom. Life from Sunday to Sunday tastes different than it did in the 80’s and 90’s. Sometimes you pine for the hectic old days, sometimes you savor the quiet of being a ‘mature’ adult. This winter has emphasized the joy of the latter.

In 40 years of making a living your priorities change from day to day. I don’t want to live a responsibility-lite life. Having been instilled with a rock-solid work ethic as a young man it has become a part of who I am. Work ethic is important to me, my wife, my sons, and to those I’m fortunate to work beside. As an aging man I crave relevancy in a youth-orientated world. I admire those who work long after the need to has passed. 

This piece was initiated by listening to the hype and circumstance of an impending winter storm and double-digit below zero temperatures. I found myself crawling in to hibernation mode and enjoying the fact that it was semi-possible to pull off. My home was warm and safe. Our refrigerator was well stocked and my wife was in her cook for twenty, eat for one frame of mind. I dialed in my selfish self and planned my Sunday couch agenda. I hadn’t been writing, posting, or caring in many weeks. I found myself feeling guilty about not feeling guilty. I was enjoying life as a slug and a slump. I was happy and looking for a reason not to be. I was confused about life and expectations. I wanted to write but I didn’t want to think about what to write about. I wanted to relax without my mind mocking my sluggishness. Suddenly I realized that we’re never happy. We don’t know how to be because we’re never sure of the definition. Feeling or showing pleasure or contentment; is what the dictionary calls it. There is no mention of money or success. 

It’s 8:55am on Sunday. The last 168 hours have been filled with snow storms, ice dams, a leaky roof, and subzero temperatures. I look forward to spring yet I relish the feeling that living within the grip of winter places on us. The difference between winters past and present are really a matter of the mind. I must admit that I’ve enjoyed other winters much more than the one we’re battling now but I must also admit I’ve come to appreciate watching it from the window more this winter than any other I can remember.  

It’s 9am, CBS Sunday Morning is about to begin, and I have a fresh cup of hot coffee; maybe Webster needs to rethink that definition?