Blessings
November 20, 2025: It worked. I sarcastically shamed some of you into wishing me a Happy Birthday. 6 people reached out. That was 5 more than expected. Believe it or not I have been able to attract about 600 views per week on Jeff’s Blog. In January, when I first wrote about the fires, there was a natural intrigue about how we were doing. How we were dealing. My blog was like “fire porn” for people. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are wackos that actually subscribe online to fire porn. What would that look like? Firefighters having sex? People having sex in burning buildings? My generation still uses the word “fire” in the traditional sense. I’ve learned that “fire” now has a new meaning. My kids say “fire” to reference something that is amazing. So fire porn to them may mean something different than fire porn to me. I am aged out of saying something is “fire.” It’s actually uncomfortable. “Bruh, Jeff’s Blog is mostly straight fire with big rizz energy. But sometimes it goes mid and starts giving sus vibes.” That was cringey to write.
“I’m gon’ praise Him, praise Him ‘til I’m gone. When the praises go up, the blessings come down. It seems like blessings keep falling in my lap.”
Do you ever notice how you write and how you talk are very different? Especially if you don’t write much. Which most of us don’t. I only write more than normal because I write my blog every week. Otherwise I only write birthday cards and emails. I guess people write a lot of emails, and texts. Ok. Scratch that thought. We probably write more than you talk. I hope not. That’s sus. My point is that we don’t necessarily talk the way we write. I try to make my blog as conversational as possible. But it takes a handful of edits to make it read like I am actually talking. That’s my goal. I don’t want it to read like a novel. I want you to feel like we are having a conversation. I want you to feel like you can hear my voice. That’s how we connect. I think. I hope so. I try.
Jerry Seinfeld had this joke: “According to most studies, people’s number one fear is public speaking. Number two is death. Death is number two. Does that sound right? This means to the average person, if you go to a funeral, you’re better off in the casket than doing the eulogy.”
“I don’t make songs for free, I make ‘em for freedom. Don’t believe in kings, believe in the Kingdom. Chisel me into stone, prayer whistle me into song air. Dying laughing with Krillin saying something ‘bout blonde hair. Jesus’ black life ain’t matter, I know I talked to his daddy. Said you the man of the house now, look out for your family. He has ordered my steps, gave me a sword with a crest. And gave Donnie a trumpet in case I get shortness of breath.”
I’ve done my fair of public speaking. Far from professional public speaking. More like “life” public speaking. Weddings. Funerals. Bar and Bat Mitzvahs. Work Meetings. I remember in 6th grade I had to do my first public speech. It was a book report on Charlotte’s Web. I was petrified to present in front of the class. I read the book. Kind of. I knew Charlotte spun her web to save Wilbur the pig. But I remember being so afraid. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. So my teacher called a meeting with my Mom and me to discuss my stage fright. We talked about Charlotte and Wilbur and what I liked about the book. She then praised me for my explanation and had me repeat it. Then repeat it again. She gave me the confidence to present it the next day in class. I did it. I “sharted,” butt I did it. The room smelled like Wilbur after eating rice and beans. My book report was like a “scratch and sniff” report. But I did it. I remember that fear of failing like it was yesterday. Fear lingers. So did my presentation. Do you think Wilbur ate bacon?
Years ago I took a stand up comedy class. I was 8 courses into my Masters of Taxation degree and decided to quit. I decided to learn the opposite of taxes. Comedy. The class was taught by Shelly Bonus. One of Richard Pryor’s 5 wives. There were about 15 of us in the class. The first day she randomly called on everyone to get up in front of the class and make them laugh. No preparation. I just sharted again thinking about it. She threw us into the pool with no lessons. Sink or swim. Most of us sank, but survived. Every subsequent week we all performed a 3 minute set in front of the class, and Shelly had us record every word. Even the minutes of complete silence. Then we would listen to the recordings and discuss why people laughed. For most of us the laughs started slowly. However, over the course of 10 weeks we all slowly built a 3 - minute set. We’d keep the jokes that worked and try more material around them. Every word mattered. Every pause mattered. The only feedback was laughs. Smiles didn’t matter. Shelly would always tell us, “Comedians don’t get paid by smiles.” Our final exam was to perform our 3 - minute set at the Laugh Factory on Sunset Boulevard. Everyone in the class invited friends and family and Shelly hosted the night. It was exhilarating.
My key learning from that class is not preparing is preparing to fail. Just like my shart report in 6th grade, my teacher had me repeat it to her multiple times. Shelly had us repeat our jokes for 10 weeks. There was not one line in my 3-minute set that I had not already performed in front of my class over and over. The ultimate performance was easy. The practice was the hard part.
“I’m gon’ praise Him, praise Him ‘til I’m gone. Don’t be mad. I’m gon’ praise Him, praise Him ‘til I’m gone. When the praises go up (Good God). The blessings come down. Good God. When the praises go up (good God) the blessings come down. When the praises go up. (It seems like blessings keep falling in my lap). The blessings come down. When the praises go up, the blessings come down (Good God).”
On Saturday, Wendy and I attended the Emilie and Cary’s wedding. Emilie is the daughter of our Peep, Pam Mirvis. It was a bit of a college reunion for me. There were a lot of people from my UCLA days at the wedding. Ironically, a couple months ago, my sister gave me a bunch of pictures my Mom had stored. You welcome old pictures when your house burns down. Judi was at the wedding. Not my Mom Judi, another Judi. In 1983, Judi and I went to our annual frat party called the “Red Light Affair.” Guys dressed up as pimps and girls dressed up as people that work for pimps. Subsequently, UCLA made us change the name to “Guys and Dolls Affair.” It’s when woke officially started in 1983. My Mom actually saved a picture from the UCLA Bruin (newspaper). They were probably writing a story about how fraternity party names can ruin people; collapse industries; and bankrupt continents. The Red Light Affair. How shameful of me to attend a party with that name. Please forgive me. Please don’t write to your Congressman. Please know my hair was real.
“They booked the nicest hotels on the 59th floor. With the big wide windows, with the suicide doors. Ain’t no blood on my money, ain’t no Twitter in Heaven. I know them drugs isn’t close, ain’t no visit in Heaven. I know the difference in blessings and worldly possessions. Like my ex girl getting pregnant and her becoming my everything. I’m at war with my wrongs, I’m writing four different songs. I never forced you to forfeit it, I’m a force to be reconciled.”
Unexpectedly, Saturday will be a very memorable night for me. Pam’s friend Laura shared that she reads Jeff’s Blog every week. That was gratifying. It turns out that when you write a blog you love meeting blog readers. “Ok Jeff. You are so popular and important.” Laura, thanks for sharing that you read this. Also at the wedding I caught up with Julie, Tami, Mark, and Michelle. It felt like the fraternity days all over again. “Come in and also meet Mohammed, Jugdish, Sidney, and Clayton. Help yourself to cookies and punch.” Memorable. I know, the wedding was not supposed to be about me. Emilie and Cary got married. Our Peep Pam’s daughter got married. What makes a great wedding (besides me going down memory lane), is the “Love Barometer.” How much love is really being felt by the attendees? Not just from the bride and groom, but from parents, siblings, friends, and the valet. Especially the valet. Bring it people. Lift the Love Barometer. Make it memorable. It can’t be forced. It has to happen organically. Naturally. It did.
I don’t know Emilie and Cary. I only knew Pam (and all her friends and blog readers). What I do know is the Love Barometer was high that night. Very high. Why? Primarily because of how people spoke. Just like in my 3 - minute set (sorry to make it about me again) the words matter. At dinner, Pam walked up with no notes and spoke from the heart. The Love Barometer for her daughter was high. She was proud of her. And proud of them as a couple. Then, Cary’s younger sister took control of the room. Told stories about how Emilie changed Cary. Changed him for the better. And Emilie’s sisters followed with hilarious stories about their theatrical sister. The women ruled the speeches. It’s hard to win a crowd. They won. The most memorable quote of the night was from Cary’s older sister who did an amazing job officiating the wedding. She advised the Bride and Groom, “The grass is always greener when you water it.”
“They want four minute songs. You need a four hour praise dance performed every morn. I’m feeling shortness of breath, so Nico grab you a horn. Hit Jericho with a buzzer beater to end a quarter. Watch brick and mortar fall like dripping water, uh!”
What an amazing wedding message. Life message: “The grass is always greener when you water it.” It seems we are always looking for something greener. Or we “think” something else may be better. When, in fact, if we focus on what we have and water it, it too shall grow. What we have will probably improve over time (if we water it). We often get stuck in the life cycle. “The next ______ will be better.” The next job/manager/promotion/relationship/diet/gym/house/city/car/golf club/therapist. Fill in the blank. However, what if you control the better? What if we changed the life cycle mindset to: “What can I do to make my situation better?” What can I do with what I have today? I am going to nurture what I have. I’m going to water it. I’m going to give it some more time. I’m going to try and make it turn green. Congratulations again to Emilie and Cary! Congratulations to all the Sistas. And Congratulations to Proud Mom Pam. Our Peep Pam. It was an incredible night filled with college memories and life lessons.
“I’m gon’ praise Him, praise Him till I’m gone (Good God). I’m gon’ praise Him, praise Him till I’m gone. When the praises go up, the blessings come down (The blessings come down). When the praises go up, the blessings come down. (Are you ready for your miracle, are you ready?)”
Or said another way:
“Hard pass on their lawn. It’s sus. Prob not getting greener. Tap into you bruh. Secure the bag right here with your daily drizzle.”
Yep. Because when I water “It seems like blessings keep falling in my lap.”
May your blessings follow.









As always a great read...