Lo-Fidelity: Table for one, please

I recently stumbled onto a video snippet of a press conference with veteran NFL quarterback Joe Flacco that touched me deeply in an unexpected way. The interview resonated as an affirmation in the subtle art of being alone and the importance of autonomy within all of our relationships. I felt like his words were collectively what Americans were craving but didn’t even realize we needed to hear. I think a lot of men struggle with being alone. I know I do. 

It keeps getting better each time I watch it: instagram.com/reel/DQIZDkiAZJg/. I’m now officially the biggest Joe Flacco fan in Aspen.

Joe Flacco is 40 years old, married, and has five children. His permanent residence is in New Jersey, but he’s living in Cincinnati playing for the Bengals. His conversation started innocently enough — a reporter’s question about what it’s like being away from his family. The acutely relatable quote gently touched on something I love to do: dine alone. 

When Joe speaks, I can hear a Baltimore accent. I don’t know how to explain it other than it has an emotionally accessible “down home” feel, almost like a small town barber or the school nurse. The uniqueness and subtlety of the enunciation reminds me of Kate Winslet’s character from the series “Mare of East Town.” 

In a rare moment of raw honesty and vulnerability, Joe pontificated tangentially, “I think there’s always a challenge, sittin’ in a room by yourself and being lonely.” He continued, “I tell people all the time, I used to see guys sitting at a bar by themselves or just sitting by themselves eating, and I’m like, ‘Man, I feel so bad for that guy.’ You always want to go join him, and now I realize, like, that dude was in heaven.” 

The press corps and everyone in the room immediately broke out into unexpected laughter. Flacco’s quote was instantly deemed the “most relatable” of the year. Out of all the galactically stupid things you hear overpaid sports stars, radio/TV commentators, and personalities say about football, this was a welcome “hot take.” 

We’ve all judged that person we see sitting alone and maybe secretly wanted to be them. Being alone to me is a challenge, a skill, a reward, a bummer, and a blessing all rolled into one. Take the serenity of riding alone on a slow, two-seater chairlift for example — what’s better? 

While gardening solo, I had the realization that some of my favorite song lyrics touch on themes of being alone, like “In My Room” by the Beach Boys, “November Rain” by Guns and Roses, “Tea for One” by Led Zeppelin, and  “Splendid Isolation” by Warren Zevon. What about the tender, emotive Jimi Hendrix “Loneliness is such a … drag” line from the epic melodic power ballad “Burning of the Midnight Lamp?”

You know what’s really weird? Whenever I see interviews with veteran NFL quarterbacks, I somehow feel younger than they are. The irony is, I have a kid nearly as old as those gridiron warhorses. How could I possibly be older than someone so mature, so accomplished, so composed? I feel much younger than John Elway and Peyton Manning, for example. Flacco has been battling brutally in the NFL for 18 years, and I’ve been wallowing in the customer service trenches of Aspen for over 30. That’s where the comparisons end abruptly.

Recently, I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time by myself. The irony of getting older to me is laid bare by the fact that I feel like I have more acquaintances yet fewer friends now than at any time of my life. I’m a wildly social creature, and I thrive in group situations, but I can’t remember the last time I called up a friend to go for a bike ride. I ski alone most of the time. I work alone. I feel like the older I get, the more isolated I become. Flacco’s interview was a stark confirmation of the realities of aging. 

Eating out in public by myself is not something I necessarily strive for, but when the opportunity presents itself, I generally lurch towards it. I’ve never met a bar menu I didn’t like. Sitting at a bar and eating by yourself is a risk and reward scenario. You can have incredible conversations with people you’ve never met or entirely regrettable interactions — moments that leave a bad, lingering taste in your mouth. 

When you walk into a restaurant and request a “table for one,” your choices are usually less than desirable. “We have a nice spot right by the men’s room, or I can seat you next to the area where a pissed-off waiter will be slamming dirty dishes into the bus tub all night?”   

The word “autonomy” screams out to me in this dialogue. I’m realizing how important independence is within the confines of a relationship. True in any bond you have, whether that’s a marriage, a friendship, a business relationship, or even your own family. There is a fine line correlation between self-confidence and loneliness. That’s why whenever you make a conscious choice to be alone, you have to be very careful what you wish for. 

When you walk into a local bar or restaurant and see me sitting all by myself over in the corner, cry not. I’m probably in a lucid state of autonomous bliss, just like Joe Flacco. Joe’s ideal time to go out and eat? 4:30 p.m. Mine, too.

Contact Lorenzo via email via suityourself@sopris.net.