Time Keeps On Slipping

The cool thing about getting older is that the albums you loved in your formative years start hitting milestone anniversaries.

These days, that often means artists dusting off old classics for “anniversary tours.”

Recently, I was fortunate enough to catch the Toronto stop of the Deltron 3030 25th Anniversary tour. It had been about twelve years since I’d last seen them perform, and I was fired up for this one. They were going to play the full debut album, start to finish, skits and all (which I didn’t see coming)

About halfway through the set, my buddy leaned over and asked, “What’s the name of this track again?”

Full disclosure: I listen to a lot of music, but if you put me on the spot for a track name, there’s a strong chance that I’ll blank.

“Uh…the one where the guy from Blur sings the chorus?” was my response.

A quick check of Apple Music and bam…

Time Keeps On Slipping.

I didn’t have some Hollywood-style a-ha moment right then, but the next day, the title hit harder than I expected.

Working through some client files (and trying to stay awake), a song randomly played on my iPod.

The track was “Got ‘til It’s Gone” by Janet Jackson featuring Q-Tip.

I’d heard this song a hundred times before, but this time the Joni Mitchell sample (from her 1970 track Big Yellow Taxi ) hit differently.

“Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone?”

Those two songs reminded me of something that I had been wrestling for months.

Time is a finite resource.

If we’re keeping it one hundred, I’ve never minded other people’s birthdays. It’s mine that I’ve never been too fond of.

This year, though, was one of those milestone birthdays. The kind that not only have you thinking “Damn, I’m old” but also make you reflect on your own mortality.

As the “big day” approached, I told my wife that this birthday felt different. Not because of the number but because it feels like I’m running out of time.

Running out of time to create, to make memories and, most importantly, to spend quality time with those who are close to me.

As I thought about this, it struck me that the small interactions I’d miss the most are the very ones I often take for granted.

Instead of being open to creating memories, my initial reaction is often irritation.

My dog who stops to sniff every fire hydrant or lamp post on our walks. I’ll get irritated because it’s slowing me down.

My kids who want to go play tennis at the park or go for a bike ride at the exact moment that I’m ready to wind down.

My favourite soccer club and the striker who struggles to convert scoring chances late last season, leading me to mutter at the television in frustration.

Was this fair to them? Probably not.

Would I come to regret this some day? Probably.

Someday, my dog will no longer be around and I will miss those walks.

It won’t be long before my kids will be teenagers and they won’t want to play tennis at 8pm on a chilly November evening.

We just don’t know when those moments will come to an end.

Which brings me back to the striker on my favourite soccer team.

Diogo Jota joined Liverpool from Wolverhampton in 2020. He quickly became one of my favourite players on the squad, scoring goals in bunches.

As the calendar turned to 2025, Jota’s goal scoring was beginning to dry up. Chances that were previously converted began coming up empty.

As the missed chances increased, so too did my negative emotions. I won’t say anger because I’m keenly aware of the actual importance that sports fandom plays in my life but frustration on seeing Jota no longer able to consistently do the things that he used to.

In the end, those missed chances wouldn’t matter as much as Liverpool clinched the title with four weeks to go.

On May 25, 2025, Liverpool hoisted the Premier League trophy at their home grounds on the final day of the season. The mood was jubilant.

Just over five weeks later, Diogo Jota had passed away.

The news hit me pretty hard but I didn’t realize how hard until Liverpool played their first pre-season game.

Only ten days after Jota’s passing, Liverpool travelled to Preston North End.

Before the game, there was an emotional tribute with a touching rendition of Liverpool’s anthem “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and the Preston North End captain laying a wreath in front of the Liverpool supporters.

As I watched this unfold, I found myself standing in the middle of my living room, overcome with emotions and tears.

It hit me how quickly life can change.

One season you’re on top of the world (or Premier League). The next, you’re learning to navigate life without some of the pieces that made it feel complete.

So this is a note to myself, and maybe to anyone reading:

If there’s something you’ve been meaning to do, do it.

Start that project.

Take that trip.

Call your people. Better yet, go see them.

Drop everything when your dog wants to walk, when your son asks to build Legos, when your daughter just wants you to sit in the room while she falls asleep.

I don’t want to wake up one morning and realize I’ve missed my opportunity. I want to experience it while it’s here, before it’s gone. Because the truth is, we never really know when that will be.

Just remember what Q-Tip told us in that Janet Jackson song. He was right.

Joni Mitchell never lies.