Hunkered Down, Day 1

It begins. 

Looks like this is life for the immediate future. Packed up my work stuff and moved it home. 

Computer from work: Check.

Backup drives just in case: Check.

Trusty Lehigh Valley Flames travel mug: Check.

Comfy clothes: Check.

Do something with my hair? Maybe tomorrow.

Who knows how long this will be, and how we’ll come out on the other side as a nation and a planet. I believe that among us there are more smart people than dumb ones, and that this will get figured out. 

Until then, there is today—and today I’m looking at the picture above … the one Laura just took of me in my home office. It is a space where, more than ten years ago, back when I was freelancing, I spent a lot of time. Since then, I found a great company to work for only fifteen minutes away from home, and the office became a spare bedroom and a place to store junk. 

But this week it has returned to its original purpose, and hopefully, if all of us do the right thing, I’ll only be working here for a short time. (I am a big fan of keeping home at home and work at work.)

Back to the photo. 

We humans love to surround our living and working spaces with the artifacts of our lives, so, let’s get out the magnifying glass:

On the desk is the stuff of today, 2020: Mac Pro and backup drives from work; papers on the desk that contain notes on a current video.

Hanging from the desk lamp in front of me is 1982: A cow tag given to me by my old friend and hockey buddy Terry Yeager. I wore the number 21 when I played hockey, and that cow tag hung on each and every hockey bag I ever used.

Behind my right arm I see Dad’s Royal Deluxe typewriter—let’s estimate the time period as the 1950s. I use it to type the occasional thank you note. An actual typewritten page is a joy to behold. If that Royal Deluxe was in better shape, I’d use it more. I wrote a blog post about the Royal Deluxe a while back.

Behind the typewriter is 1975 and 2014. An ancient hockey helmet I wore in my high school years playing for the Hellertown Southstars (I will write about that one day). It is perched on a giveaway hockey stick from the Lehigh Valley Phantoms inaugural season, which was six years ago. 

Behind the helmet is 1995 and 1984. In the wooden frame is an article about Dad and the Council on Tall Buildings, back when I worked with him. To the left of that, faded from decades of sunlight is the poster Jonathan created in honor of my Super-8 film epic, The Return of Joe Beninski. It is signed by dozens of my friends who came to the premiere … way back when … in those glory years.

In my left hand I hold my trusty Lehigh Valley Flames travel mug that I mentioned earlier. 2010. It’s a cheap fundraiser item that the team I coached was selling, and to this day I can’t stop using it. It goes to work with me every day. I dropped it a couple months ago, the lid cracked, and I almost cried. After a few failed attempts I found the right kind of glue, and I’m back in business baby!

The back wall is a smorgasbord of precious photos and trinkets. The 2000s: Hockey teams I’ve coached. 1988: Playing and singing with the Club Stella Bowling Team (there’s a blog post for that). 1980s: My best friends in the world, recently dubbed “Group 9” (another interminable blog post). 1998: An autographed photo from the actor Chris Noth, who narrated a video I wrote. There are video awards, a movie poster of Jonathan’s 1970s Super-8 film epic, Cab Driver (that’s me in the photo!), a Beatles Hard Day’s Night-themed clock, a “Rally” hockey glove (from Sears!) I wore playing street hockey in 1973, and a small shelf from which hangs an assortment of laniards from work events, hockey tournaments, writers conferences, and 

… wait a second … are those sleigh bells?

If I can go fishing for a point to all of this, it is that as long as we’re home and hunkered down, let’s surround ourselves with what brings us joy and happiness.

So, until the next update, stay healthy, make wise decisions, wash your hands, and be nice.