A Better Week

The girl who tells me she wants to have a better week doesn’t hear me say I have faith in her but not because she is not listening but because I stay silent.

My silence isn’t for any particular reason other than now seems like a more appropriate time to listen than to say I have faith she’ll figure it out because she will.

She once told me she’ll bloom wherever she is planted and I believe it because I know things. 🙂

Still when she says she wants a better week I agree and whisper a silent amen not believing it will change anything but figuring it can’t hurt.

It was a hell of a week filled with relatives heading to the E.R., car break-ins and other drama best left elsewhere.

Not a Jim Croce Photographs and Memories but maybe a Hey Tomorrow kind of time. Can’t sing like Jim or play guitar but I can grow the mustache and occasionally put words on a page.

A Better Week

The 18-year-0ld tells me not to try and hug him and his little sister reluctantly extends her arms.

I tell her she doesn’t have to hug me and she asks if I am going to make a crack about giving good hugs.

“No baby girl, I am not. Won’t tell you that some girls have run into these arms because they feel safe and appreciated.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah dad. I know.”

She rolls her eyes at me and I give her my best Cheshire cat grin and laugh.

“You might miss this one day. I miss hugging my dad.”

The last part is said with a tone of voice I know she recognizes.  There is no guilt associated with it nor intent to do more than share a piece of me that her grandfather tended to hide.

My daughter has told me more than once that I rarely show more than laughter or anger. I don’t doubt it because that is what I learned to do from dad.

I don’t blame him for that or hold anger towards him for it, it is a generational thing. The guys and I have spoken and it is something most of our fathers, grandfathers hold in common.

The funny thing about the hugging thing is I have been told by some people they don’t see me as being affectionate and that is absolutely not how I see it.

I am very cognizant of who hugs or doesn’t hug me and I notice who does/doesn’t.  If I want to hug you chances are you get the bear hug.

I don’t do the air hug thing.


Got a belly full of Texas barbecue from Hard Eight and am one bite from feeling like I ate too much.

I love barbecue and that is one of my favorite places.

During the 2.5 years I have been back I have tried to make a point to try out some of the other barbecue favorites around the Metroplex.

Been relatively successful at getting to a bunch but still have several close to the top of my list including Cattleack and maybe Pecan Lodge.

Maybe meaning that I think I might have already hit the latter, but I just don’t remember. I think I hit it the first time I lived here, but am not sure.

It doesn’t jump out the way The Keg does, but that could be because it was part of one of my favorite nights.


It is another Saturday night in which the people in the house have all moved to their separate spots and I am sitting here alone again thinking about how easy it would be to have a better week and wondering if it will come about.

Got a lecture at 11 AM tomorrow morning that I am thinking about hitting, investments to review, books and magazines to read and prep work to do for the things that pay the bills.

I can hear them singing about changes as I nod my head because the reflections of my life seem to be on my mind more frequently than they once did.

Could be because I had to adjust my workout today or because my eyes did some funny stuff and I had to make a note to call the doc and not rely upon my self diagnosis.

Getting older isn’t for the weak, but I am not old nor broken…yet.

The Netflix Adventures

Sometimes I wonder if I am the only one who makes a point to turn on Netflix so I can watch shows with English subtitles, also known as this is how I practice my Hebrew.

One of the biggest differences between life in Texas and LA is in the languages I hear.

In LA Hebrew and Farsi are layered in the background with such frequency their absence here is glaring. If I hit a synagogue or Jewish event I usually find a few Israelis.

Sometimes I intentionally eavesdrop because I find it comforting, but in all my time living here, both now and before I only remember coming across one Persian Jew.

I could probably provide a better segue for this song and offer a smooth connection for how it relates but what fun would that be.

It would be as useful to most of you as saying that a smart Virgo listens to their Taurus.

You’d l0ok at that line and try to pick it apart and wonder what sort of reference lies within.

“Hmm…Josh is a Taurus so he might be referring to himself but so are Billy Joel and Candace Bergen. He is just the guy who would make some obscure comment about the Piano Men relating to Murphy Brown and or some goofy thing like that.”

Yeah, I might do that or I might say “We didn’t Start The Fire” even though I have been known to dance in it but that would probably make you wonder if there is a Ring of Fire connection.

There isn’t and just in case you are wondering Johnny was born in February and June was born in…June.

Let me help some of you with a few things…sometimes I just say/write stuff you aren’t supposed to get because that is how the real artistes do it.

They paint a picture or write something and try not to laugh while critics and English teachers tell everyone about the deep meaning in the words or paint not knowing there isn’t a secret message.

Sometimes it is just words or paint on a page.

I have faith in you to accept it and to know all will work out. Or maybe I have faith in me.

Or maybe I just have faith for no particular reason other than faith itself because isn’t that how faith is supposed to work.

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