Happy hour musings

Every six weeks or so Penny, Julie and I pick a new place to experience happiness together. We drink wine and try yummy new appetizers. Last night it was 47 Scott with its tasty pork fritters, deep-fried pickles, and most impressive thinly sliced apples arranged in a fan as a garnish to baked brie. We want to try Janos’ new Downtown Kitchen + Cocktails but we’ll wait till it calms down a bit after last week’s opening.

We talk about everything in our short two hour visit: the color orange and the nature of horizontal stripes; what it means to be Jewish, if not religious are we genetic, historical or cultural Jews; fear of death and the possibility of past lives (two say yes, one says no); our teeth and gums; Social Security (two care, one doesn’t yet); a little bit of politics, but uh, we’re there to be happy; Odyssey Storytelling, the Burrito Files and new projects; what to do about burgeoning stomachs, and is it worth it to enjoy food and not worry so much about the fantasy of becoming svelte; refinancing my house in Maine and paying off credit card debt — the thrill of it; my upcoming Arizona Jewish Post story on mental illness in the Oct. 29 issue… I’m sure there was more but that’s all I can remember this morning.

In a way, some research says it doesn’t matter what we talk about but explains why sisterly chats make people happier. I used to wish my brother and I would talk more about personal stuff instead of movies, politics and sometimes the Boston Celtics. But I’ve realized that it’s the connection that matters (my brother has a rather odd view that it’s ok if we don’t see each other often, because “I know what you look like”).

But you know what, it’s really nice to hear his voice.

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7 Responses to Happy hour musings

  1. Lori Riegel says:

    Great insights… I like 47 Scott too. They have amazing grilled cheese, too.

  2. Simon says:

    Pork Fritters? Tasty? What it means to be Jewish…. Oy!

  3. Karyn Zoldan says:

    That all sounds like meaningful fun.

    Happy hour is my most favorite meal of the day.

    Yeah, women can share the good and the bad and can laugh at themselves but men don’t even ask for directions.

  4. Pingback: Happy hour stories - Telling Stories

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