You Still Love Your Taurus

There is a young couple standing outside of the Chinese restaurant I am picking up dinner from. She tells him to move out of the way so I can go pick up my “Christmas dinner.”

I give a nod and walk in to a place that is far busier than I expected and silently ask if several thousand Jews suddenly moved into my town.

Most of the tables are empty and there is a stack of bags with take out orders on the counter.

I push through the crowd and ask for my order and try not to shake my head when the woman says she doesn’t see my name.

“I ordered online a solid 45 minutes ago, can you please check?”

She nods her head and disappears into the kitchen and I step back into Winter night which isn’t in the teens like the previous day but is still cold enough to get my attention.

Outside a man asks another, “You still love your Taurus right?”

I insert myself and respond, “who doesn’t still love their Taurus.”

It is a silly comment but it is cold and I want to distract myself not recognizing the questioner is pointing at a beat up Ford Taurus that is parked almost directly in front of me.

They look at me expecting me to add some smart comment about a Ford Taurus but I make them scrunch up their face when I say the ’69 Taurus is among the best editions to ever come off of the line.

“I don’t think they made them in ’69.”

“Oh they did and once you have had the pleasure of being driven by on you never forget, especially one that is less than one percent Swedish.”


You’re Not a Swebrew

Can’t say whether my friend Marina or her mother Hanne came up with the line “Swebrew” for Jewish Swedes but I do know that my DNA results says I have less than one percent Swede in me.

One of my relatives might have had a planned or unplanned encounter with Cossacks but no Vikings and I am ok with that.

Truth is I am kind of fired up right now and I haven’t decided precisely what has me feeling extra feisty but I know this is the kind of mood some people find challenging.

The words that come are direct and sometimes have an edge. There is always honesty but this comes with something extra. It requires deeper trust and not everyone is willing to go there.

Some run and some stand and submit.

But not everyone understands the strength of submission but there is complexity there that I don’t feel like delving into here.

Still looking at DNA matches, reading about traits such as my learning that distaste for Brussels Sprouts might be based in genetics, though I would say it is just good taste.

****

Been more than a couple of years since I drove that Ferrari around the track. Been more than a few years since I accepted certain things were going to come to be no matter what I did or didn’t do.

Out on the track the professional driver who rode in the passenger seat kept encouraging me to go faster and to open the car up.

“There is potential here that you are not taking advantage of but could do so safely, have faith and go for it.”

All these years later I look at my son and tell him to dream big and believe there are things he can reach for that he might not have considered.

“You’re a few days short of 22. You have time to paint the sky and start over two or three times. You have time to experiment and to live. Don’t miss out because you are not sure you can do some things. Figure it out and believe that you can.”

He bounces a few thoughts off of me and I tell him sometimes you have to have faith. Sometimes you need to tell that person or persons that you want to spend time with them and have a few experiences.

“There is magic in the air, but sometimes you have to reach for it.”

He can’t hear the tick-tock of the clock that sits in the back of my head. He doesn’t see me standing in the dark in the living room at 2 AM thinking mapping out some ideas and mulling over others.

That is ok, he gets to be his own man and live the life he chooses.

I make a point to tell him again that now that his sister and he aren’t little kids anymore I reserve the right to course correct, adjust and dream big too.”

“You die when you stop dreaming. I am not ready to die. Might have 20 summers left and I might have 50, either way I can’t control time so I have to control how I act and or react to circumstances and situations. Keep that in mind.”

We Blinked

The younger Mr. Wilner doesn’t like pictures and would be mildly irked with my putting these online but it fits the car theme so we are going to drive ahead with it.

If you don’t know him you might look at him as he is today and not recognize him as he was.

Hell, I am about 20 years older now than I was in the picture so I certainly look different now too. Finally at that place where I understand when people say we blinked and got older.

Watched the Shaq special on HBO and the end of it stuck out more than anything else. He talked about wanting to be known for being nice.

That seems to fit with everything I have heard and read about him. Heard he showed up at a deli I like in Houston this past week and bought meals for a bunch of people.

It doesn’t cost people anything to be nice and it goes so far. We could use more of that huh.

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By Joshua Wilner

Hi, I am Josh Wilner and I am happy that you have decided to visit my corner of cyberspace. I am a writer/marketer/friend and family man. My professional background includes more than twenty years in working with businesses to help them do a better job of connecting with their existing and prospective customers. More specifically I have worked with companies of all sizes from the Fortune 500 to the new start up to help them build, develop and grow their social media and marketing plans. I love spending time with my family and friends. I enjoy music, reading, writing, playing sports and laughing.

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