This is about 15 years of Eagles tailgating boiled down to a little over nine minutes. A lot is left out, but you’ll still get the idea …
Family Beach Vacation
My parents started taking us to the Southern Outer Banks of North Carolina when we were toddlers. Until I was 15, we lived maybe an hour away in Eastern North Carolina, so it was a relatively easy trip.
Well, as easy as any car trip with four young kids can be.
We later moved to Delaware when Pops accepted at transfer with DuPont. Though we were now 8-9 hours away, the Southern Outer Banks, specifically Emerald Isle, N.C., remained our choice for a beach vacation.
We’ve continued the family tradition through various girlfriends, wives, births of children, divorces and the death of our mom in November 2015. Today, as we all pack for this year’s version, I thought it would be good to take a look back.
Losing weight has helped …
When I started this journey, I was feeling fed up with myself.
I had just been through a rough year. It started with the loss of my mom on Nov. 1, 2015, and was capped off almost one year later by the loss of my job at the end of October 2016 during a corporate reduction in force.
I had been with the company for 16 years. Like many other journalists, I gave it much of my life. Nights, weekends, extra hours. In the end, it didn’t matter.
I spent the next two and a half months funkified. I ate too much of not good for me food. I drank too much alcohol. And I got married to the couch. Never a small man, my weight shot up.
That one time I was forced to run …
Colby the JRT walks along a fallen tree during one of our treks through the woods.
The tick-tick-tick-tick-tick sound of a short-legged dog walking with purpose along the hardwood floor of the hall gave me advance notice of what was about to come.
Next came this whimpering, crying “but-I-really-have-to-go” sound as he stared at me from near my feet. He slowly backed toward the front door in hopes I would rise from my comfortable seat, stop watching Alaskan State Troopers and take him out.
It was 3 a.m. I couldn’t understand why Colby the Jack Russell, a male under 50 in human years, needed to use the bathroom so many times during the night.
I slipped into my Eddie Bauer slides (more manly than saying my plaid slippers), grabbed the retractable leash and headed toward the front door.
It’s been a week since I stepped on the scales
Dear Mama,
Couple of things to tell you about this week.
I picked up my new glasses. They are progressive lenses. You know, the kind you couldn’t wear because they spaced you out. They seem to be doing OK for me. Going down steps is a little weird.
My old house is finally going to closing on Friday. Knock on the wood from 1849 that was used to build it. That will be a big weight off me, as you know.
So glad you were able to spend many Sundays of your last summer here at the new house. Picking crabs, swimming (or floating) with your kids, grandkids and Pops.
Mama Brenda floats in the pool with two of her granddaughters, Emily and Autumn, in the summer of 2015.
And speaking of weight, I climbed out of the dark hole I had been digging and started applying for jobs. Real jobs. Finally decided my search for treasure at the bottoms of bottles of Knob Creek wasn’t really working out for me — no matter how much I tried to convince myself it was.
When comfort becomes uncomfortable
I stepped on the scales this morning.
I had dreaded doing it and had actually pushed the scales off to the side at an angle so I could not just step on them. I’d have to drag them out away from the wall and dresser to be able to weigh myself. That was enough extra effort to have to go through to keep me from doing it for the past few weeks.
But after struggling to get the button on my largest pair of jeans through the slot yesterday, pinching my finger in the process, I knew it was time.
jeffrey gentry 