Thursday Th(ink)s - June 25, 2026

On my calendar for later today is: Watch my friend’s memorial service as it streams online.

This activity, in itself, is not necessarily a sign that I am in my Thursday years. I have attended a goodly number of memorial services for dear ones who never got to their final third of life.

Nevertheless, a memorial service is a reminder—and a stark one—that I will die.

I’m surprised how frequently my thoughts go there, especially because I love living.

Maybe it’s because of that that I think about dying.

The yin and yang. The conundrum. The wondering.

Which brings me to this Thursday and three things I've been thinking about.

One: Laugh tracks.

Two: Football gloves.

Three: Zucchini.

Let’s take them in their logical order.

Oh, you’re right.

There is none.

Oh well; let’s just dive in and try to find a story.

Laugh Tracks

Our 3.5 acres of holiday property where we have a small cabin, is exactly 500 miles from the house we call home.

I know this because I am the family driver. Thank you, Hubs, for understanding my need to fulfill this exacting role.

I love to drive.

It’s related to my wanderlust and our trip to the cabin scratches that infernal itch.

This week the journey came with a delightful accoutrement.

Our seven-year-old grandson was in the back seat.

Between his mum and me, he had enough activities to keep him occupied for a trip to Katmandu. I, however, held my wanderlust in check and, as planned, made the cabin our destination.

His ever-knowing mum had loaded some programs onto his iPad for those stretches when 500 miles felt a bit much.

In the front seat, Hubs slept.

In the back seat, an audience laughed.

Every fifteen seconds.

I know.

I counted.

Every fifteen seconds the laugh track erupted. Most often, grandson laughed too.

And guess what?

He sounded exactly like the audience cueing him.

The audience laughed.

Then he laughed.

The audience laughed again.

Then he laughed again.

I found it oddly unnerving.

Football Gloves

When you graduate from first grade, apparently, you get football gloves.

Football gloves?

I’d never heard of them.

Then again, I am pathetically ill-informed about such things. But please do ask me about roasting coffee.

Guess what football gloves do?

They make you catch the football.

Every time.

Or at least that’s how it appeared from the porch where I was sitting.

The gloves went on.

Hubs launched the football.

The catch was made.

Grandparents gasped.

“Ohhhh!”

“Wow!”

“What a catch!”

Clearly this child has a future.

Possibly professional.

At the very least, Hall of Fame material.

I had memories of my Danish grandparents doing the same while watching me swim in the lake.

Så hurtig!

What a vidunderbarn!

What they didn’t know was that I had football gloves too.

Mine were called flippers.

Such deception.

Zucchini

A knock on the cabin door this morning revealed a neighbor with her hands full.

In one hand, two beautiful zucchini.

In the other, three pieces of still-warm zucchini bread.

“Don’t leave your car unlocked up here in NorCal during the summer.” she warned.

“Bears?” I asked.

“No. Zucchini,” she answered. “Neighbors will fill your car with zucchini if you give them opportunity.”

We laughed.

I thanked her and made another cup of coffee.

Now for the fun part.

Let’s put all of the above into a story about aging.

It can be done. I promise.

Especially because I love Aesop and this has the makings of a fable.

Once upon a time there lived three companions.

The first was Laugh Track. Laugh Track was very popular. He always knew what everyone else thought. He could tell a crowd when to laugh, when to clap, and what was worth paying attention to. People loved him because he removed the burden of deciding for themselves.

The second companion was Football Gloves. Football Gloves was admired wherever he went. He promised success. Better catches. Better outcomes. Fewer mistakes. If you followed his instructions carefully enough, life would become easier and you could be a star.

The third companion was Zucchini. Nobody paid much attention to Zucchini. She simply grew, asking for little beyond sunshine, dirt, and water. No one knew that, secretly, she was thriving.

The three companions traveled together through life.

People followed Laugh Track on Instagram and cloned his every move.

Football Gloves was voted “most popular accessory” and won first place on “The Star.”

Meanwhile, Zucchini quietly grew.

The travelers flew past Thursday and before they knew it, they were old. One by one they arrived at Sunday and the memorial services began.

People gathered to tell stories.

To remember.

To grieve.

To celebrate.

And it turned out that nobody needed Laugh Track to direct and manipulate their emotions. Their feelings were self-directed.

Nobody needed Football Gloves to enhance their reality. Grief required neither a soft landing nor perfection.

But they all needed Zucchini. They needed hospitality, abundance, and nourishment.

And so, the travelers finally understood:

A good life is not measured by how well you follow the crowd.

Nor by how perfectly you perform.

A good life is measured by what you leave behind.

Which is why, perhaps, God made so much zucchini. He knew that life is one big story, and that every good story eventually finds its way to someone else’s porch.

And he knew I would need a second cup of coffee WITH a slice of warm zucchini bread this morning before I go to play catch, yet again, with a seven-year-old.

And tonight I will leave my car unlocked. Perhaps someone needs me to knock on their door tomorrow morning, my hands full with hospitality, abundance, and nourishment.

Big Brains: "No matter what happens in life, be good to people. Being good to people is a wonderful legacy to leave behind." -Taylor Swift

Old Souls: "The things you do for yourself are gone when you are gone, but the things you do for others remain as your legacy." -Kalu N. Kalu

The Ancient of Days: "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven." -Matthew 5:16

Norma Jean:
A good life is measured by what you leave behind.

Thursday Chat: The Thursday years are like a pizza dream. Death, laugh tracks, football gloves, and zucchini walk into your brain and leave behind a sermon.