The best day of my life

No need to worry about me. I'm fine. In fact, I'm having the best day of my life.

Photo by Austin Chan on Unsplash

When I was in my late 20s, I took a job with a radio station in Los Angeles that was switching formats from news talk to sports talk.

My job interview took place in a hotel lobby with the program director, who called and offered me the job the next day.

In the first few minutes of my first day on the job, the program director was walking me through the newsroom (a big room with cubicles that all of programming shared) and introduced me to the only other employee who had been hired before me.

“This is the producer of our morning show,” he said. And then followed it up with this:

“Ask him how his day’s going.”

So, I did. I asked my new coworker that I had met literally seconds earlier how his day was going. It was 9:05 am.

“Oh, me? I’m having the best day of my life.”

The program director laughed before patting me on the shoulder and saying, “He says that every time. Come on, let me show you around.”

Me and that producer became very close, lifelong (probably) friends. I was in his wedding party. But I’ve never forgotten about that first interaction or the many ones that came after it of similar nature.

The program director wasn’t lying, my buddy the producer would respond “I’m having the best day of my life” to anyone that asked him how he was doing, what’s up, how’s it going, or any number of standard greetings. We got into this routine where we’d have lunch together every day, because we had matching schedules and really enjoyed having thoughtful conversations with each other.

I must have seen him do the “best day of my life” bit a hundred times before I bothered to ask him why. Why did he always say that? When did it start? Original idea or stolen from some other genius?

I don’t remember what he said word for word, but I can do a pretty good job of summing it up:

I’ve been doing that since I was about 14 years old. That’s when my mom died and when I had to move to St. Louis to live with my dad.

It took me a really long time to get past my mom’s death. A lot of therapy. And you’re never really over something like that, it always stays with you. And for a long time, for the rest of your life with some people, you’re constantly getting asked how you’re doing. And people didn’t know how to handle the truth, so I would usually reply with some sort of joke. Eventually I settled on just being joyful about it.

But then I flipped it on its head. Losing my mom as quick as I did made me realize just how quickly you can lose everything. And it genuinely makes me appreciate each day as a victory over the odds. What’s tomorrow if it’s not another consecutive day of not dying? Shouldn’t that be celebrated? Doesn’t that, in the most literal sense, make it the best day ever? Maybe, maybe not, but until I find something better, it will do.

I remembered that last part this morning and smiled.

I haven’t seen this friend in person in a year or two, a function of us no longer living in the same time zone as one another, so I’m not sure if he’s kept up the bit or not. I do know that he’s a happily married homeowner, husband and father, checking off a bunch of his life goals, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still actually the best day of his life instead of just counting the consecutive days of not dying.

Many people have reached out to me over the last few days asking if I’m okay, and I’ve left almost all of those people on read. My apologies. Here’s a more fitting answer:

I did not think this is what I would be doing on this day. Not two weeks ago and not two years ago did I imagine this would be the situation I would be waking up to.

That being said, ask me what I did this morning: a water-logged palm tree that usually hangs over our driveway gave way last night, and became a water-logged palm tree on top of my wife’s car. I spent my morning sawing it into pieces small enough to fit into the compost bin. (The car is fine.)

Ask me what I did this weekend and I’ll recount for you the ice skating I did with my daughter at a Temecula winery, her first time on skates and my first time in decades, or I’ll tell you about the new friends I made over beers and stories of youth.

Ask me what I have planned for this week and I’ll tell you about the road trip I’m taking with friends to experience a different part of the state and take in a hockey game.

It’s all a balance. Always has been and always will be. Things may not be exactly as I expect them to be, but in some ways they might be better.

It’s day number 14,962 of being alive and I can’t wait to find out what day 14,963 and 14,964 and 15,000 and 20,000 and beyond feel like. I bet they’ll all be better than this, even if I’m having the best day of my life.