So anyone who reads this blog with even the slightest hint of regularity knows I often use this space to complain.
I complain about politics.
I complain about assholes.
I complain about youth sports.
I complain about Donald Trump and his family of enabling sociopaths.
But, truth be told, I am charmed, and it is crazy.
I mean that. Crazy. I’m just a writer; some guy from a small New York town who grew up loving sports and reading everything I could about baseball, football, basketball, the Olympics. I wrote for the Mahopac High newspaper, then the University of Delaware newspaper, then The Tennessean, then Sports Illustrated, then Newsday. Then I started writing books; started a blog; a podcast …
And here I am. In Los Angeles, typing on a dirty Whole Foods table, genuinely living my dream. I’m fully aware it’s largely out of luck and good circumstance, with a morsel of hard work tossed in. I could die tomorrow, and while that would suck, I couldn’t complain of being robbed. This trip has been amazing.
I digress.
Earlier tonight the hashtag #MyThreeCelebDinnerWouldBe was trending on Twitter. And while I am, by no means or definition, a “celebrity,” this happened …
Hmm …
I know neither Soledad O’Brien not Denis Leary, though I’m an admirer of both their work. I also happen to be following Soleded on Twitter. And she follows me. So, eh, I DMed her; showed her DEF’s Tweet and asked if she’d possibly be game to eat with the guy when I inevitably return to New York. She said, “Sure.” I then asked if she happened to have a relationship with Denis Leary.
“No.”
Well, I Tweeted at him. And this followed …
Whoa.
Now, will Denis, Soledad, DEF and myself wind up dining? I have no remote idea. But for all the awfulness of social media, this was genuinely cool and fun.
And, again, a reminder: This life is fun.
