I heard June’s thoughts last night, if but only for a moment and thus ended August.
A few weeks left before the official end of summer and the change of seasons in which the outdoor oven shuts down and I gird myself for the coming cold.
Standing in a parking lot in Wylie I wonder what is causing the vibration in my pocket, damn it is not one phone, but two.
The doc’s office is on the personal but I don’t recognize the number on the work phone.
“Josh, I need your help. I am in the middle of a crisis.”
“Take a breath and check your email.”
“How did you know?”
“I read the email you sent and responded.”
“How do you stay so calm?”
“I am not always so calm. Ask my family.”
“I can’t imagine you getting excited.”
“We need to work on your imagination. Can I do anything else?”
“No now, thank you.”
Pull out the work phone and listen to the nurse tell me the doc has approved the pills but wants more blood work in six weeks.”
A voice in my head says a note from your doctor is almost as good as a note from Epstein’s mother.
It is ridiculous, but I laugh anyway.
Maybe Write Another Letter
The kid asks me if I can tell him how far away he is from Shreveport and I say about three hours.
We go back and forth a bit and he asks if he can ask me a non work related question about his girl friend.
“You’re good at framing a story and I need help trying to figure out how to tell her something.”
I agree to listen provided it is not too graphic. He says I shouldn’t be an old prude man and says I strike him as a guy who was shy with women.
“Sounds like I am the wrong guy to ask for help.”
He apologizes and tells me he is nervous and asks if it’s easier dealing with old women who are in their fifties.
That makes me laugh again.
“When you are dealing with women of a certain age you can tell them you know how to make them feel like a girl again. They have seen things and done things, so some are less concerned about terms like woman and girl.”
“That’s amazing. If I call the women around my age a girl they go nuts.”
“Call the women around my age a girl and they might go nuts too.”
“You just said that you can call them a girl.”
“Time and place. I said you can tell them you know how to make them feel like a girl. There is context, nuance and relationship involved here.”
He tells me he is not following what I am saying and I ask him if he knows how old his girlfriend’s parents were when they got married.
“Is she close with her mom?”
He says he isn’t sure about the first and yes for the latter.
“Unless her folks were really young or really old when they got married she probably sees that as a normal time for people to settle down. If you don’t want to bring up marriage and are trying to scoot around it a bit some of those questions need answers.”
He asks me what I would do and I say that maybe I would write another letter and stress that I consider silence to be acceptance.
“Why not just ask her? Why not just be direct?”
I laugh again and tell him I think direct is good and that time and place is everything.
“Some conversations are better in person. Easier to read body language and to not misunderstand.”
It Bothers Me
The tail end of the work day reminds me there are moments where you feel like you are in control of your destiny.
Everything you touch works as it should and you know when you leave the office you can choose between riding a unicorn, Pegasus or magic carpet.
For this moment in time you feel like a titan or golden god and do your best to hold onto the feeling for that bubble can be burst by the tiniest of pricks.
And when that tiny prick comes and you feel the warmth of the sun flee from shining upon your shoulders there is a moment of loss.
“It bothers me.”
No one answers, acknowledges or responds in any way and maybe that is a good thing since you are alone.
There is frustration because the question of how to reconcile the triumph and the moment of loss is large.
There is no logic or reason to rely upon and perhaps that is what is hardest because there isn’t a simple solution that will provide satisfaction.
There is only a hole and a jagged tear in fabric and it is up to you whether to view them as providing a fashionable accessory or being detrimental to health and happiness.
David Foster
I’m glad that I just happened to find your blog when I was searching for the definition of colors so I could annotate a song on Genuis song lyrics.
Like yourself, I also love listening to music, reading, journaling and spending time with my friends and family. I’m very blessed to have such good friends.
Regarding my family, I’ll tell you a little more. I don’t have any siblings, neither did my ex-wife, the mother of my only child. So my family consists of my mother, who is nearly 79 years old, and because she’s taken care of herself she’s in good health. My son is 25 and I feel some sadness about his situation because he too has no brothers or sisters, and of course he has no uncles or aunts, unlike myself. My mom has 4 siblings (three brothers and a sister) my father is 82, and is the youngest of three, he had one sister and an older brother who are both deceased.
I just wanted to express how much I enjoyed this one story you wrote and I look forward to reading more of your work.
Best wishes, David Foster
Joshua Wilner
Hi David,
Thank you for the kind note. I appreciate your coming by and commenting. Life is a hell of a journey. Ideally the cool stuff plays a bigger role in our lives than the less cool.
Look forward to seeing you again.