A Lunch At The Thirsty Lion

The local butcher is from Louisiana and has been gearing up for Mardi Gras. Got multiple King Cakes stacked around the joint, New Orleans style daiquiris, Po boys and all sorts of similar items floating around.

Guy in there asked if he could throw any beads at the women and there were a series of laughs and I thought about a conversation I had with my daughter earlier in the say.

She is the only Jewish kid in one of her classes and had been asked to explain what a Bar/Bat Mitzvah is and why they are considered important.

Someone else talked about Mardi Gras and how it takes place just before Lent. My girl told me how that was news to her and I smiled and said I understood.

“You had no particular reason to know that in advance, any more than they needed to know what a Bat Mitzvah is.”

We moved on to other topics and here I am hours later thinking about all of that and more.

Got the Field Of Dreams soundtrack playing and am reminded how I talked about Dad walking into the cornfields. Sometimes I almost picture him walking back out, glove in hand, though it is more than 40 years since we last threw a ball around.

A Lunch At The Thirsty Lion

Fragments from a conversation at the Thirsty Lion stick out in my head and I have this feeling that some of what was discussed has moved from unlikely to possible, if not probable.

Got no rhyme or reason to believing such a thing and ample reasons not to yet there is this sense that things are falling into place.

Puzzle pieces are moved around the board and that which couldn’t be moves into maybe or so it seems. Can’t hear a voice saying if you build it he will come but there is a similar sense.

A feeling I have had times in the past that almost always led to certain events coming about, even if I didn’t always recognize it or them for what they were.

Might have been because I fought being vulnerable and avoided it tooth and nail because situations and circumstances made it seem too hard.

But there is something about this time and this age and experiences that make me act otherwise. Experiences that push me to not leave anything on the table because we only get this one life to live.

Is is because Carl Weathers died and it reminded me of him playing Apollo Creed screaming there is no tomorrow or something else.

Later on in the film there is a scene where Rocky says he is scared and I can hear that inside my head too.

I look at fear differently than I used to. When I was younger like so many others I never wanted to admit to being scared or anyone or anything.

Life happened and I had reason to learn to admit that somethings scare me and some have scared me.

But I have also learned to step into the fear and let it embrace me, let it wrap all of its smoke like tendrils around me.

Sometimes you to dance in the fire to try to avoid getting burned and sometimes you dance in it without worrying about whether you will or will not.

It is not because getting burned won’t hurt but because not taking certain risks will hurt more and that’s enough.

Some fear isn’t logical nor rational. Some fear is worth confronting because what lies on the other side is glory and not in the over hyped, exaggerated bravado sense of it.

Sometimes you walk the path to get to the other side because that is where the truly rewarding good stuff lies and if nothing else the experience of going forward will help you grow.

Growth is good, even if sometimes painful.

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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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