Anatomy of a Good Day
Fiasco, train wreck, dumpster fire, shitshow. These are the words that have come to define 2020, and they're not wrong. It's been a terrible year, and when it ends tonight I'll be glad to see it go.
But yesterday? Yesterday was a good day.
I know it sounds weird, to have a good day in the midst of this horrible year, which is why I need to make note of it, so that I don't ever forget that good days happen. So here's what made it a good day:
LEGO Day Camp. I didn't want to do this. It's not why I went to work at CMC. But the Museum kept me on after letting go many awesome people, so if they need help to make something happen, I'll step up. And you know what? Building LEGO with a bunch of enthusiastic kids turned out to be pretty damned fun.
Seeing My Own Art. One of the campers' parents recognized me on the Zoom call, because I drew a portrait of their house years ago. The camper even took her computer to show it to the group. That was unexpected and gratifying.
Seeing My Team. Due to budget cuts, I haven't seen the Museum Experience team much in the last few weeks, which was one of the things that made the job fun. Last week, on the last day before Christmas, I left a dark, silent, empty office, with no one to say goodbye to, and it broke my heart. Yesterday, I made a point to find the ME team as they wrapped up their day, and we wished each other Happy New Year. I left feeling much happier.
Compliments On My Work. During this time, my boss told me I'd been nominated for a Butler-Bain Award, a sort of "Employee of the Month" recognition. I never thought that would happen, so it was flattering to know that people liked the work I was doing, whether I receive it or not.
The Drive Home. Spring Grove Avenue to Winton Road to North Bend Rd. to Caldwell is a cool drive, winding through the industrial West Side, up the hill past the cemetery, then down a hill overlooking the Mill Creek Valley. Even in the soft, misty rain yesterday, it was lovely to see.
ART SUPPLIES!! I got home to find a package from Blick Art waiting for me. Oh boy oh boy!
Making Dinner With Anne. I grilled up cheesesteak subs while Anne made zucchini fries, all while favorite tunes (NOT Christmas music) kept me dancing and singing. Also:
Laughs With the Kids at Dinner. I don't even remember the jokes, but my family is pretty funny.
The Expanse. Sat down to watch a couple episodes of one of our favorite sci fi shows while sipping...
Woodford Reserve Double-Oaked Bourbon. From my new Jedi Order highball glass.
Email. As I settled down to read before bed, I received an email that I plan to keep forever. It reads:
I'm James Logue, Emily Rose's dad. I wanted to tell you how much my wife and I enjoyed
the two pieces you did for her.
My wife has been a royal watcher for years and we have toured Buckingham Palace. Your
rendering was terrific.
And when Em was growing up I really enjoyed taking her to baseball games. I don't mind
telling you when I saw the painting of the two of us at PNC Park I busted out crying. It is so wonderful.
You are an artist with uncommon talent and we are grateful for your works and will
cherish them forever.
(EDIT: Here are the paintings I created for them.)
How great is that?
Now any of these things by themselves would be
fun, or pleasant, or enjoyable, if not terribly remarkable. But all of these happened on the same day, on the next to last day of the worst year in recent memory. And so now I have logged them so I can recall that even in the darkest times, a good day can happen.