Today’s painting is a red-breasted nuthatch on a bit of a downward trajectory. He’s looking up though. He’s quite literally hanging in there.
I will apologize in advance that my annual 31 in 31 always coincides with a Saints playoff run and inevitable untimely end to the season during which I get little melancholy. This time its more “end of an era” and less “well, maybe next year.” But, let’s be honest, for someone like me, “next year” never really goes away–
I lived through the playoff curse of the eighties and nineties. I cheered for the team in my cha-ching t-shirt and white keds. I discussed Bobby Hebert with my dad and rooted the hardest for my favorite, Ricky Jackson. I called into the Buddy D show when I was ten, and I guess none of this silly fandom is going anywhere any time soon.
I wore a Drew Brees jersey to the games in my twenties and nearly all of my thirties. The end of an era? Maybe. But, lord willing and the creek don’t rise, I’ll be back again next year hoping the agony of defeat will once again brighten the thrill of victory. Who dat.