“Dad, why don’t we call a friend?” Broken down on a country road… after dark… eighteen degrees, windy. Susan took the ‘good’ car, we took the pickup. A 1995 Dodge Dakota. It’s fun to drive around town, but you don’t want to rely on it—on a country road, after dark, when it’s really cold. “Dad, … Continue reading The Break Down
Author: Jeff Cann
My Day Off
It’s Monday, so I must be depressed. When I was a kid (and by kid, I mean in my twenties) Sunday nights were rock bottom. My weekends went like this: Thursday: at work, a rush of anticipation. Thursday night: always a big party—enter a dance club early, 9:00ish, still mostly empty. Stay until closing, alternating … Continue reading My Day Off
Time Off
I’m surrounded by athletes. They’re everywhere I turn. Susan’s massage clients, my friends from the fitness center (which is also where I work), the other volunteers on the committees I’ve joined. They’re triathletes really—runners, swimmers, cyclists. But we’re old, or aging at least, and most of us have dropped a sport or two. I’m a … Continue reading Time Off
The Hard Days
I had my last drink almost eleven months ago; I quit somewhere in the middle of last January. But I’m not sure exactly when. And yes, it’s ridiculous that I don’t know the date. I thought I did, but two or three weeks after I quit, I couldn’t remember if it was two or three … Continue reading The Hard Days
Death and the Blogger
It might be over—my three year run. My alter-ego as a blogger, a writer. Three years: daily, I opened my laptop and pounded out my thoughts—stream of consciousness—into small stories extracted from my life. Stories of triumph or regret. Running, mental health, parenting and alcoholism. Bitching, left wing commentary and pointless, over-thought drivel. Artistic and … Continue reading Death and the Blogger
Never again
Saturday at noon: “Jeff, go grab a beer.” “Hey Jeff, can I pour you a mug?” “Get a glass; you deserve a cold one.” This was a few minutes after I finished a 15K. I heard the same thing after a June marathon, a September 10K, the other day at work. “Jeff drop by tonight, … Continue reading Never again
Books
This may not appeal to many readers. I'm scratching an itch that I've felt for years... After years of research, countless focus groups, and intensive analysis of text, I know the answer. These are the best children’s books ever written: Eek-a-boo (Joan Holub) A Fly Went By (Mike McClintock) Horton Hatches the Egg (Dr. Seuss) … Continue reading Books
Dissent is Patriotic
Dissidents. I’m guessing I became one today. The wheels, at least, are in motion. I haven’t changed, but the country has changed around me. Apparently, it’s now considered acceptable for the president to mock the disabled; or spy on non-Christian citizens; or ignore the constitution; or threaten to jail those who oppose him. Today, I … Continue reading Dissent is Patriotic
Drivel
Flintstones vitamins have changed. Which isn’t surprising, they’ve been around for forty-eight years. When I was a kid, they were chalky, hard candies. Sweet and enjoyable, but with a medicinal aftertaste. Sort of like baby aspirin. Now they’re gummies, the aftertaste is gone. They just taste like gummies. I recently finished a bottle of them. … Continue reading Drivel
Snickers
I love Snickers bars. It's my favorite chocolate candy—has been for years. I only buy three or four candy bars per year, so I always buy Snickers. I pilfer quite a few bite sized candy bars from my coworker Nancy’s office, but these are typically Hershey brand. I don’t love any of those. It’s like I’m … Continue reading Snickers
Endurance, tattoos and pain
Any age ending in “three” is destined to be an afterthought. A year ago I turned fifty-three. Too old for my early-fifties. Too young for my mid-fifties. I entered fifty-three with zero expectations. Just another year of life. A way-station on my journey to fifty-five, or to sixty. When I was in my twenties, I was … Continue reading Endurance, tattoos and pain
Beer Running
Email message from Mark: Jeff, are you planning on joining us this week? My reply: Wednesday nights suck. Eli and I do a drum circle. Or: Overbooked. Wednesday is my writers group. Or: Sorry, parenting responsibilities. Susan’s taking a class. Gotta cook for the kids. Or… Not this week, I have a work thing; Or… nope, early morning on Thursday. Sometimes, … Continue reading Beer Running
Seriously Happy
When Sophie was an infant, this was common: “Wow, your baby is so serious!” How do we respond to that? “Right, we discourage her from pursuing all that ‘happy baby’ crap. It’s so clichéd.” Or: “We smack her when she laughs.” Or: “What has she got to smile about? She lies around all day in … Continue reading Seriously Happy
Building an Embassy
Three years of blogging, hundreds of stories, hundreds of thousands of words, but I’ve only mentioned Kiera once. This wasn’t intentional; she just never came up. I didn’t even notice this omission until I started assembling my book. Once I realize that she was nowhere to be found, I was shocked that I could write … Continue reading Building an Embassy
The Fluoride Treatment
I went to bed hungry last night. No, this isn’t about poverty; it’s about running… and childhood… and football. Last night, Friday night, was the first home football game of the season. Not professional, not college—but high school—the Gettysburg Warriors. I went to the game, but under duress. I consider football to be the least … Continue reading The Fluoride Treatment
Butts
I’m not a flag-waving patriot. I don’t drink Budweiser. When I recite the Pledge of Allegiance, I edit it to more closely match my beliefs. I don’t even watch football. For a fifty-something guy born and bred in America, I don’t seem very American. On July 3, Susan and I walked out for coffee. This … Continue reading Butts
Pulling.Them.Off.
I feel like a sausage. Like fatty meat squeezed into a sheath, praying the sides don’t split open. But of course they won't. This is intended. This is supposed to look good. Susan and I are counter-culture. By that I mean we ignore societal norms. Not in a contrived “if it’s popular, I won’t do … Continue reading Pulling.Them.Off.
In Search of: Coach!
I’m easily distracted. Eight months ago, I embarked on a journey, a quest if you will, to become a Babywater. Right, I know that sounds stupid. It’s the phonic rendition of an acronym I made up—BABWTR. At the time, I thought it sounded tough and edgy. Reminiscent of Jason Bourne’s Treadstone. No, I don’t see … Continue reading In Search of: Coach!
Fairyland FKT
The Fairyland Loop. A sickly-sweet name for a trail; evoking images of a four-year-old girl skipping down a grassy path in her ballerina outfit. One week into my family vacation, my legs were itching for punishment—my heart and lungs had taken plenty of abuse, but only due to the elevation. Susan, my two kids, and … Continue reading Fairyland FKT
On Death and Living and Running
This story appeared in Like the Wind Magazine #8. The artwork is the original artwork that accompanied the piece when it was published. It is used here with the generous approval of Brittany Molineux. Please visit Brittany's website: www.brittanymolineux.com, or connect with her on Twitter: @blmolineux. Saturday, November 8: Susan's Grandmother died today. This was a long … Continue reading On Death and Living and Running
The Other Stuff 