Do You Want Me To Try?

Several people warned be wary of the waves of emotion that would come.

They said everything would be fine and then it wouldn’t. Something would trigger a memory and the wave would hit but that as time passed I would become used to it and find it easier to manage.

“You’ll never get over losing your dad, but you’ll get to a place where it doesn’t feel so raw.”

I didn’t argue, debate or discuss this. I accepted it because there wasn’t any reason not to and it made sense during a time where nothing did.

It is almost funny to be closer to 50 than to 10 and to yet have moments where I feel something that reminds me more of being a boy than a man.

Maybe it is because I haven’t given myself permission to be upset or maybe it is something else. I am not a shrink or social worker nor interested in becoming one.

That is not a knock against those who do it, it is recognition I am not well suited for the field.

The week dad died there were multiple people who reached out and encouraged me to lean on them. I did a little bit and might have kept it up longer if it hadn’t felt like a burden.

Do You Want Me To Try?

Some years back I had a conversation with someone dear to me about moving heaven and earth to make certain things happen.

I said then that I am very hard to pin down but if I commit to something, really commit I make it happen.

“If I ask do you want me to try don’t say yes unless you want to see me do it because I’ll find a way.”

I don’t think about that conversation often but when it decides to show its face in the memory banks it is often associated with things dad did, showed or taught me how to do.


A thousand years ago in the Summer 0f ’90 I was a camp counselor at a Jewish overnight camp outside of Toronto.

The camp pulled kids and staff from Canada, Upstate New York, various parts of Cleveland and Detroit among other places.

During my first week there they asked me the usual questions I got about living in Los Angeles and added a few golden nuggets such as, do you know you look like Bruce Willis, John Travolta and Billy Joel.

I don’t remember anyone asking those questions before that but I have gotten Bruce Willis several times since.

The other day someone told me they thought I kind of look like someone familiar so I asked if they meant Orrie.

“Yeah, you look like Orrie.”

“Most people say I have his hands and feet.”

They scrunched up their face and asked if we were talking about the same Orrie.

“I don’t know. Tell me about your Orrie.”

I kept a straight face and waited for their reply and eventually heard them mumble something about them thinking he was some kind of actor or singer.

It was funny to me because Orrie is not a common name in the states. I know several Israeli’s named Orrie but have yet to meet another American that wasn’t isn’t related to me.

If you aren’t in the know I’ll let you in on a secret, Orrie is my dad’s name. Hell, if you ask for Mr. Wilner I might still look around to see where dad is because surely I am not that old yet.


“Dad, do you want me to try. I can get you up on your feet. If you hold onto me I’ll get you there.”

“What do you think?”

“If you fall I am going to catch hell from mom and my sister.”

“You mean both of us are.”

“I’ll tune it out. I can get in the car and leave if I want. You can’t. So you need to decide what you prefer.”

It wasn’t the most comfortable conversation for either of us. Dad was in the rehab and wanted to answer the call of nature and was curious about whether he could get to his bathroom without it turning into a big production.

He had already had me manhandle him into a more comfortable position in bed. When I had suggested waiting for a couple of nurses he glared at me.

So I didn’t wait, I wrapped him up and lifted him a bit.

It wasn’t graceful, but it got the job done.

“Dad, you just lived out someone’s fantasy.”

He glared at me again not realizing I hadn’t said it as much to be funny as because I was trying to make an uncomfortable situation easier.

Flotsam & Jetsam

I support Colin Kaepernick’s right to kneel. Got no problem with it and wonder what would happen if someone like Tom Brady joined him.

But I don’t like the quote that is being used by Kaepernick’s new Nike campaign. This bit about sacrificing everything doesn’t fly well with me.

Is he getting screwed by the owners because of his stance and the pressure from delusional Orangemen?

Yes and no.

Yes because he is still good enough to play and if he agreed to stand he would be on a team.

No because he isn’t that good a player and is probably within a couple of years of having to retire.

That is partly why I think it would be better to have one of the superstars lead because that would force things to go a slightly different direction.

Anyhoo, I am not a millionaire and have never gotten paid millions to play a game for a living. If you know me well you know I wish I had that kind of talent.

And you know that I can still support the man and say that getting paid millions by Nike is still a pretty good deal.

Maybe I am right and maybe I am wrong.

Sure wish I had dad here to discuss. I liked those conversations. I liked our challenging each other to dig deeper to support a particular position.

Sometimes we changed each other’s minds.

BTW, dad supported Kap too but I suspect he wouldn’t like the quote about sacrifice either.


I still have to make some decisions about what hosting company to hire to host my blogs. It’s a hassle but necessary.

Had to buy a new BP machine because my arm is too big for the cuff on the old one. That is not a humblebrag, it is a real life observation.

I think I am going to like the new one better, has some features that will be useful.

Have to try to schedule the other tests and get things moving. That is kind of irritating too. I want to just take them, get the results and move onto whatever comes next.

Sometimes this aging thing sucks.

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