Today’s topic for Just Jot in January is pants. Considering I just got back from the wake for my often-discussed recently deceased friend Tony, I can think of no better topic.
The wake was as crowded as I had expected. Tony was a well-known and well-liked guy. The crowd consisted mostly of older people, not surprising given his age. Other than his family was an endless line of people who had worked with Tony at the restaurant over his 40-year tenure.
I had the good fortune to sit with some guys who I had only heard the legends of, from Tony of course, but never met until tonight. All they could do was talk about how miserable of a place it was to work. And I thought of all of the times that Tony, after a couple of Courvoisier’s would show his soft white underbelly and state, not complain, state his unhappiness at the hours of his life spent in that one small room while his kids grew up. He lamented the missed weddings and nights out with friends that occurred while he worked. But he immediately came down to earth, shook it off and convinced me, and himself perhaps a little, that it had to be done.
You see, in 1969, in a bad economy, with a pregnant wife and bills to pay you did what you had to do. Even though they didn’t have this expression then, he “put on his big boy pants” and didn’t look back.
Just one of the many reasons I will miss him.
4 thoughts on “big boy pants”
This was such a touching story I read it yesterday, then came back for a quick reread today [3:42 am]. What a lovely remembrance, and heart-warming tribute to your dear and fondly missed friend. I almost feel like I knew this guy too. That’s how well you shared your memories of his and your journey together.
Oh I’m thrilled you decided to become a blogger. That’s why I asked how I could easily get back to your website yesterday. It’s something special. I get the feeling that you’ve got even more to talk about here. And I’m keen to hear it delivered through your conversational writing style. Cool beans!!!
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You are too kind. And I’m just getting warmed up
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Treat Us Please!
An act to admire.