Things have been busy lately, but I had some time to myself the other day and managed to zip over to the gym. Sauna bathing has been a part of my hygiene routine since high school, and I prioritize getting over there a couple times per week. I tell people I like it, but it’s probably more accurate to chalk it up to habit at this point. Anyways.

When I showed up, Earl was there. Earl’s a regular and what you might call a talker. He’s usually holding court with whoever’s sitting around sweating their balls (or breasts) off, and doesn’t mind being the center of attention. But for someone who talks so much, I don’t find Earl tiresome. He’s a generally positive guy and nice to be around. I appreciate that about him.

On Earl’s better days, he goes on and on about staying fit into your 50s and 60s, offers suggestions for looking “this good” at 59 or whatever. Even when he’s going through tough times (most recently, his wife leaving him), he seems to stay focused on the brighter side of life, once telling me that “Happiness will go on.” I think we both needed to hear it at the time.

But despite Earl’s typically cheery demeanor, he seemed a little off that day. “The kids all have places to go,” he said, “wives and boyfriends, other families, so for the first time in years I didn’t have to cook for everybody over the holidays. I used to enjoy it, you know, but realized as the kids got older that nobody wanted to help. I’d ask if they wanted to cook the hot dogs for their friends, they’d say, ‘You got it, Dad,’ so all that time it was just me, standing out in the cold, cooking and cleaning for everyone inside.”

A seemingly close friend of Earl’s was there giving sympathetic responses. The conversation then drifted into how the fire department used to come by to check on all the grill smoke, but I’m not sure that’s where this story wants to go. I don’t know where it wants to go. Not yet, anyways. So for now, I’ll leave you with this.

Earl pushed himself up off the cedar bench and stretched out. Like most of the regulars, Earl times his visits, and time was up. He said it was great to see everybody. Starting in the far corner of the room, he gave each and every one of us a fist bump. When he got to me, he said, “Always good to see you, brother,” and shook my hand. He asked how the kids were. I said, “Good.”

“Great,” he replied. “That’s all that matters.”

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