Lifestyle
Ghosting is ruthless. So why are we all doing it?
Alexis Fischer was excited to jump back into the dating world after being single for two years.
The professional dancer-turned-entrepreneur took time to heal from her breakup with her ex-boyfriend of nearly four years. She also wanted to focus on building her business, the Move by Lexfish app, where she teaches virtual Pilates, dance and other fitness classes. Then, in May, she was accepted on Raya, an exclusive, membership-based app that initially focused on dating but has expanded into a digital spot to build friendships and business relationships.
Dating in Los Angeles can be messy. In “Date Cute” we’ll explore common dating problems and provide tips on how to date better.
Fischer started messaging two men and eventually went on multiple dates with each of them. She kept in touch with them via text and FaceTime, and things were seemingly going well, until all of a sudden: crickets.
“I’ve been ghosted twice in the past month,” a teary-eyed Fischer said in a video on TikTok , where she has more than 28,000 followers.
In dating, ghosting is when someone ends all communication without giving the other person any warning or explanation. In the video, Fischer went on to talk about how the experience bruised her ego and left her feeling rejected. Dozens of people commented, saying that they had had similar experiences.
“It was just absurd to me,” said Fischer, 30, of the South Bay, told The Times. “You start to question yourself, like ‘Did I say something? Did I do something?’ And you read back all your texts and just kind of go crazy.”
It wasn’t as if she thought either of these men were “the love of her life,” she said, but she would have preferred for them to let her know that they didn’t want to date her anymore rather than disappearing and causing “emotional turmoil” for her.
“We need to all collectively be better,” she said in a follow-up TikTok video. “We don’t need to ghost. We are better than that. Send a clear text, a voice note, call them … Just be clear.”
With the rise of online dating and social media, ghosting has become a common experience for many people. A 2023 Forbes survey, which polled 5,000 U.S. residents who’d actively been on dates within the last five years, found that 60% of respondents said they had been ghosted before.
Meanwhile, 45% said they have ghosted another person. Findings also show that men and women are equally to blame: Forty-four percent of men and 47% of women said they’d ghosted someone before. (This study didn’t appear to be inclusive of all gender identities.)
Ebony Utley, a professor of communication studies at Cal State Long Beach, said ghosting has likely been around forever. However, because there are now so many ways to reach someone whether it’s via phone, email or lurking on their social media, ghosting has become more intentional.
“We don’t need to ghost. We are better than that. Send a clear text, a voice note, call them … Just be clear.”
— Alexis Fischer, in a recent TikTok video
L.A.-based marriage and family therapist Ali Cortes said the COVID-19 pandemic has played a role in people communicating less with others.
“It’s a trend that is acceptable,” Cortes said, adding that no one likes to be on the receiving end of it.
Many experts agree that ghosting is generally frowned upon with the exception being if you feel unsafe around someone or if any red flags such as lying or abusive behavior pops up.
Letting someone know that you’re no longer interested in them can feel nerve-wracking. (We all get it.) But getting ghosted feels way worse. Here’s what experts say you should do instead.
What actually happens when people ghost others?
There are several reasons why people ghost. Some do it because they’re afraid of confrontation. Others think they are sparing the other person’s feelings, while some simply don’t think they owe the other person an explanation.
“People lie for two reasons,” said Utley, author of the 2019 book “He Cheated, She Cheated, We Cheated: Women Speak About Infidelity.” “They lie to protect themselves, and they lie to protect other people. So ghosting lets people do both at the same time.”
A ghoster may think, “‘I protect myself from being a bad person,’” Utley said, “‘and I protect you from hating me by not explaining the real reason why I don’t want to know you anymore.’”
No matter which way you slice it, suddenly disappearing without letting the other person know can cause more harm than good. Although research hasn’t fully explained the psychological effects of ghosting, a 2020 study published by the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health related its effects to “ostracism,” which could cause feelings of “loneliness, depressed mood, frustration, anxiety and helplessness.”
“It is disrespectful,” said Cortes, who’s also the founder of Bienestar Counseling, Coaching and Consulting. “Because there’s no feedback, it leaves the person out in the cold.”
“[Ghosting] usually interferes with our self-esteem in some way. And if that happens to you recurringly in patterns, then you really start to think, ‘Oh, snap. It’s me. People just don’t want to be in communication with me.’”
— Ebony Utley, a professor of communication studies at Cal State Long Beach
Utley said that when people are ghosted, they often revert to their “little kid state” where they think that everything is their fault. Questions including “Is it something that I did? Did I make them mad? Was I not good enough?” might circle their minds.
“It usually interferes with our self-esteem in some way,” she said. “And if that happens to you recurringly in patterns, then you really start to think, ‘Oh, snap. It’s me. People just don’t want to be in communication with me.’ And it might just be you’ve run into a bunch of a—holes.”
But if the person doing the ghosting were candid, then you’d know whether the issue is you (for example, they said you came on too strong), and as a result, you could decide whether you want to work on those personality traits.
What should you do instead?
Ghosting is easy — that’s why people do it. But if you’re willing to do the alternative, here are a couple options for what you could say.
If you’ve lost interest in the person you are dating and no longer want to communicate with them, Cortes recommends using the sandwich method, in which you deliver negative or constructive feedback between two slices of positive comments.
You can start by thanking the person for sharing their time with you and let them know that you’ve enjoyed getting to know them, Cortes said. Then insert your reason. Some examples are “I’ve realized that I’m not ready for a relationship right now,” “Our values don’t align” or “We don’t want the same thing.” Wrap up by saying something such as this: “I want to respectfully let you know so that you can move on, and I can move on as well,” and then tell them to take care.
Another option, says Mike Chang, a marriage and family therapist based in Glendale, is “making it more about you” and less about the other person. It’s fine to keep your explanation for ending the relationship brief.
“I think people have preferences when it comes to what kind of person they want to be in a relationship with, which is totally fine,” Chang said. “But nobody wants to be told that they don’t have something or a trait that [you’re] looking for.” A key reminder: If your comment isn’t constructive, keep it to yourself.
Let’s be friends
It may be tempting to end this tough conversation by saying “We can be friends” as a way to cushion the blow. But experts warn that you shouldn’t say this or agree to it unless that’s what you actually want. Doing so can sometimes make the other person think they still have a chance with you romantically. It can also leave the door open for them to cross your boundaries.
Instead, Utley recommends saying something like this: “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you, but I don’t want us to be in communication anymore.”
“Yes, it is a very difficult thing to say,” Utley said. “And, yes, it’s a very difficult thing to hear. But if you don’t want to be in communication anymore, you’re going to get that. That person is not going to keep reaching out to you, and if they do, you might have to get the police involved. But at least you’ve been clear.”
Should you have this conversation in person?
When asked whether you should have this conversation in person, via text or over the phone, Utley advised picking whichever one makes you feel most comfortable.
Any of these options is “better than nothing,” she said, “because sometimes those in-person conversations end up being conversations when you really just want to end a relationship.”
If you think an in-person conversation might go sideways or put you in a dangerous situation, then a phone call or text might be best, Utley said.
“If I do this one hard thing of rejecting [someone], I’m actually helping both of us have a healthier dynamic with other people.”
— Ali Cortes, a L.A.-based marriage and family therapist
Ultimately, no matter what’s said, there’s still a chance that the conversation may not be well received.
“I think how the other person responds is a variable that we can’t control,” said Chang, who’s also the program director for Lighthouse Counseling Solutions. They might be mature about it or they might have a complete meltdown. However, it’s not your responsibility to make the other person “feel better about the breakup because they are going to interpret it however they want to interpret it,” he said.
Your only job — and the only thing you can control — is being transparent, clear and respectful about your desire to end communication.
The long-term benefit
There could be another positive outcome from having this conversation. Utley said learning how to communicate effectively can help you become a better friend, parent, sibling, neighbor, employer, colleague and employee. “This kind of practice is going to help you if you ever have to deliver bad news to anyone, anywhere, at any time,” she said. “Practicing these things now will help you do that and make all those forthcoming situations in your life a little bit easier.”
Cortes likes to think of this skill as an act of kindness toward yourself and the other person.
“If I do this one hard thing of rejecting [someone], I’m actually helping both of us have a healthier dynamic with other people,” she said. By saying no to this person, you are ultimately saying yes to yourself and freeing the other person to do the same.
A new dating standard
A few months after Fischer’s back-to-back ghosting experiences, she started messaging another guy she had met on Instagram. They FaceTimed several times, but she eventually realized that they were on different paths in their lives and ultimately weren’t compatible. So she decided to break it off with him.
He responded with “a nice, long message,” she said, acknowledging that he couldn’t give her what she was looking for at the time and that he respected her decision. Then they went their separate ways.
“I was a little sick to my stomach about it, and then once we had the conversation, I was like, ‘Oh, my gosh. I feel so light. I feel clear,’” she said. “Let’s have that conversation always.”
The experience has given Fischer a new perspective and confidence about dating. It’s also taught her that being ghosted is “not a reflection of me at all because I know I’m a catch,” she said. “I know what I have to offer.”
Lifestyle
President Trump to add his own name to the Kennedy Center
President Donald Trump stands in the presidential box as he visits the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C, on March 17, 2025.
Jim Watson/AFP via Getty Images
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Jim Watson/AFP via Getty Images
The John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts will now have a new name — the “Trump-Kennedy Center.” White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt announced the news on social media Thursday, saying that the board of the center voted unanimously for the change, “Because of the unbelievable work President Trump has done over the last year in saving the building.”
Shortly after the announcement, Ohio Democrat Rep. Joyce Beatty, an ex-officio member of the board, refuted the claim that it was a unanimous vote. “Each time I tried to speak, I was muted,” she said in a video posted to social media. “Participants were not allowed to voice their concern.”
When asked about the call, Roma Daravi, vice president of public relations at the Kennedy Center, sent a statement reiterating the vote was unanimous: “The new Trump Kennedy Center reflects the unequivocal bipartisan support for America’s cultural center for generations to come.”
Other Democrats in Congress who are ex-officio members of the Kennedy Center Board, including Sen. Chuck Schumer and Rep. Hakeem Jeffries issued a statement stating that the president is renaming the institution “without legal authority.”
“Federal law established the Center as a memorial to President Kennedy and prohibits changing its name without Congressional action,” the statement reads.


Earlier this year, Trump installed himself as the chairman of the center, firing former president Deborah Rutter and ousting the previous board chair David Rubenstein, along with board members appointed by President Biden. He then appointed a new board, including second lady Usha Vance, White House Chief of Staff Susie Wiles, Fox News host Laura Ingraham and more.

Trump hinted at the name change earlier this month, when he took questions before becoming the first president to host the Kennedy Center Honors. He deferred to the board when asked directly about changing the name but said “we are saving the Kennedy Center.”

The president was mostly hands off with the Kennedy Center during his first term, as most presidents have been. But he’s taking a special interest in it in his second term, touring the center and promising to weed out programming he doesn’t approve of. His “One Big Beautiful Bill” included $257 million for the building’s repairs and maintenance.
Originally, it was called The National Cultural Center. In 1964, two months after President Kennedy was assassinated, President Lyndon Johnson signed legislation authorizing funds to build what would become the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts.
Lifestyle
How one L.A. immigrant’s quest spawned generations of Christmas tree sellers
It’s mid-November, a full week before Thanksgiving, and the progeny of Francisco Robles, a Mexican immigrant who peddled watermelons in East L.A., have converged in West Covina to commemorate the 76th year of the family’s seasonal business: selling fresh Christmas trees around L.A. from the forests of the Pacific Northwest.
Francisco and his wife, Lucia, left Mexico for a better life in the early 1900s, so it’s hard to imagine what they would make of their thoroughly Americanized descendants today. One of them is looking for a place to plug in her electric car; another is zipping around the large lot on a motorized scooter; and a third is carrying a large, elaborately framed photo of their mother, “the Queen of our hearts,” who died on Mother’s Day, so she can be part of the family photo commemorating the 2025 tree season.
The Robles’ 76-year-old grandson, Louis Jr., is keeping track of today’s Christmas tree delivery from a folding chair, wearing horn-rim glasses, slacks and a white, open-neck dress shirt. But most of his family — his three adult children, their spouses and a few of his grandchildren — are casually dressed in red “Robles Christmas Trees”-themed sweatshirts or holiday leggings, laughing and posing for cellphone photos under a huge red-and-white striped tent in the parking lot of the bustling Plaza West Covina mall.
Louis Robles Jr., 76, right, listens as his children go over an inventory list of Christmas trees delivered to his son Gabriel Robles’ lot at Plaza West Covina on Nov. 19. Gabriel stands at his father’s left, beside his wife Kathy Robles. His sister, Lorraine Robles-Acosta, far left, looks over paperwork about the trees that will next be delivered to her lot in Montebello.
All the pumpkin patch trimmings from October have been put away — the petting zoo, towering inflatable slides, Cyglos and other rides — and now the family is setting up Christmas decor and stands for the trees that will soon be delivered.
It’s a far cry from the dusty streets where Francisco Robles sold his watermelons from a truck more than a century ago. By the end of this day, the massive 53-foot-truck will have delivered its icy bundles of Nordmann, noble and silvertip firs — what Louis Jr. calls “the Cadillac of Christmas trees” — to all three of their lots in Eagle Rock, Plaza West Covina and the Montebello mall.
The Robles family is eager to get the Christmas tree lots going. Sales were slower than usual at their pumpkin patches this year, a slump they blame on Immigration and Customs Enforcement raid concerns among their large Latino customer base.
Antonio Villatoro, left, closes a hatch after moving trees, while Javier Vasquez, looks on at Robles Christmas Trees run by Gabriel Robles at Plaza West Covina.
The Robles family adds festive decor and places for photos to their Christmas tree lots such as this wall at Gabriel Robles’ business at Plaza West Covina.
Members of the Robles family talk carefully about ICE and immigration. They are business people and deeply religious — Louis Jr. is an assistant pastor at the Living Word Apostalic Church in El Monte, where they attended as a family for years — and they want to keep their politics private.
“But we are not fearful,” said Gabriel Robles. “We’ve lived here all our lives, born and raised here, and we’ve been through so much. I believe this ICE issue is another moment in time. It will pass like COVID happened and passed, and we can stand whatever they throw at us. Los Angeles is a melting pot of immigrants. We’re all unified together, no matter who is in office, and you can’t get rid of us. We are the fabric of L.A.”
Getting the family together in mid-November is unusual because, from October through December, the Robleses are juggling the family business with their other jobs: Gabriel Robles, operator of the Robles Pumpkin Festival and Christmas Trees in West Covina, is an insurance broker; his wife, Kathy, is a homemaker who manages their books. Gabriel’s older sister, Lisa Nassar, operator of Cougar Mountain Pumpkin and Christmas Trees in Eagle Rock, does security screenings at Disneyland (“I keep Tinker Bell safe,” she says, laughing). Her husband, Sam Nassar, is a counselor at Mt. San Antonio College. Lorraine Robles-Acosta is a massage therapist who does lots of work for her church; her husband, Joseph Acosta, is a drug and alcohol counselor. Together, they run the Robles Pumpkin Patch and Christmas Tree Farm in Montebello.
It’s a grueling schedule, but they cling to Louis Jr.’s motto — “We’ll sleep in January” — because this business is in their blood. Not all of the younger generation of Robleses is as gung-ho about the family business as their parents are. But Gabriel and Kathy’s sons, Roman, 21, and Mason, 19, are already devising plans to improve the family’s presence on social media, and the couple’s art-loving daughter Loren, 15, set up the acrylic paints for pumpkin painting.
The Robles family’s late matriarch, Madalene Robles, smiles from a portrait held by her husband, Louis Jr., so she can be part of the family photos commemorating the start of the 2025 Christmas tree season on Nov. 19 at their son, Gabriel Robles’ lot in West Covina. Madalene Robles died on her birthday, May 11, which also happened to be Mother’s Day, her favorite holiday.
Louis Jr.’s children, Lisa, Stephen, Gabriel and Lorraine, played among the trees in their father’s tree lots, first in Monrovia in 1973, Louis Jr. says, then in Rosemead and Pico Rivera. Louis Jr. purchased a small trailer with a tiny space heater to sit on the lot so the kids could eat and rest there while he and his wife sold trees.
“That trailer was so cold at night,” said Lisa, shivering with the memory.
In those early years, when Louis Jr. worked all day at a produce warehouse with his dad before spending his evenings at his Christmas tree lot, he and Madalene used the tree money to create magical Christmases for their children.
“I remember waking up to mountains of presents under the Robles’ tree,” Lorraine said dreamily, “and Mom wrapped every single gift.”
When they were older, Lorraine and her siblings helped set up and sell the trees. They’d chase after the few scalawags who tried to steal them, and ultimately they lobbied Louis Jr. to let them have their own lots, which over time expanded from selling a few pumpkins on straw before Halloween to big pumpkin patch extravaganzas with petting zoos, art activities, inflatables and rides. (Stephen, who lives in San Diego, stepped away from the seasonal business.)
The Robles family considers silvertip firs, with their sturdy open branches and graceful form, to be the Cadillac of Christmas trees, said Gabriel Robles. They used to be plentiful, but they’re harder to find these days, he said, because they require altitude and cold to thrive.
Inflatables like bounce houses and giant slides were Gabriel’s innovation, and so popular he insisted on adding them to his Christmas tree lot too. His dad warned against the idea, but Gabriel said he was determined. He set them up at his lot and they did well for a few days. But then it rained, and his father’s logic became apparent. The inflatables never dried, Gabriel said, and the cold and mud made them even less appealing to visitors. “I still have customers to this day who say, ‘Please put the inflatables out again,’ but they don’t understand they take forever to dry.”
The Robles family is dismissive about big-box competitors (“They’ll never replace the tradition and environment you get at our lots,” said Lisa), and they collectively hiss at the mention of artificial trees.
“My dad has been worried that artificial trees get nicer and nicer, but it hasn’t really changed our sales,” Gabriel said. “The No. 1 reason people come to our lots is the fragrance. They want that fresh pine smell throughout their home, and fake sprays don’t cut it.”
Worker Jonathan Tovar, foreground, who helps with general operations, and Roman Robles, 21, background, whose father Gabriel Robles runs the lot, arrange trees while inventory is being unloaded.
The Robles family hand-select their trees every year from the farms in the Pacific Northwest. (The names of the farms are secret to keep competitors away, Gabriel said.) After the trees are delivered, the family sprays them with water every night and keeps them shaded from the sun so they don’t dry out. “That’s the secret of our success,” Gabriel said.
Louis Jr. said the biggest part of his family’s success has been adding fresh ideas to expand the business that come from each passing generation, starting with his dad, Louis.
Francisco and Lucia Robles and their five L.A.-born children lived on Brooklyn Avenue in East L.A. All three of their sons went to war for the United States, and two never came home, one lost in World War II and the other in the Korean War. Their third son, Louis Robles, served in WWII, right out of high school. He entered the Army’s 101st Airborne Division and earned a Purple Heart as one of the paratroopers who, at age 20, dropped into German-occupied France on D-day, June 6, 1944.
Paratrooper and produce wholesaler Louis Robles Sr. supplemented his income in 1949 by selling Christmas trees in L.A. In this family photo from 1955, Robles, then 31, pauses by his Robles Produce truck preparing to drive a load of fir trees from snowy Washington to his lot in Lincoln Heights. The boy at left is unindentified.
When he returned from the war, Louis joined his father selling produce, but he had bigger ideas, Louis Jr. said of his dad. He didn’t want to sell from a truck; instead, he went into the wholesale business, selling watermelons and oranges from a stall at the old Central Wholesale Produce Market at 8th Street and Central Avenue in downtown L.A. He married Elena Ramirez, who helped at the warehouse, keeping the books, and they had four children: three girls — Gail, Priscilla, Denise — and a boy, Louis Jr.
Then, in 1949, the same year his son was born, Louis Robles had another idea: Watermelon sales slowed in the winter. Oranges were plentiful year-round, but he needed another crop that could fill the income gap. He noticed how people went to the railyard in December and bought Christmas trees off boxcars, so fresh they still had ice clinging to their branches. Packing them in snow was how trees were kept fresh during transport from the Pacific Northwest.
Inspired by this, Louis Sr. found a vacant lot in Lincoln Heights and started selling Christmas trees. Being the innovator he was, he didn’t want to rely on other people’s choices for his trees. So he researched tree farms in the Pacific Northwest and visited them himself, selecting his own trees and, for a while, even driving his warehouse’s Robles Produce truck up north to transport them himself.
Lisa Nassar helps unload small Christmas trees at her brother Gabriel Robles’ Christmas tree lot at Plaza West Covina on Nov. 19. The 53-foot-long truck filled with trees from the Pacific Northwest stopped at Nassar’s lot first in Eagle Rock that morning, and would continue on to their sister Lorraine Robles-Acosta’s lot in Montebello.
Eventually, Louis Sr. bought his own produce warehouse, and Louis Jr., always a helper after school and on weekends, joined the business right after graduation. The younger Robles married his high school sweetheart, Madalene Maldonado on Jan. 4, 1969 — after the busy holiday season, of course — and they immediately started a family. Although she helped at the warehouse, Madalene’s main interest “was being a homemaker; raising her children and being a good wife,” Louis Jr. said.
Louis Sr. was considered by his family to be a taskmaster. He was generous about giving out jobs, but he didn’t tolerate people standing around at work. Laughing, Lisa said anytime you saw him coming, you grabbed a broom and started sweeping. “I still carry that mentality — there’s always something to do, even if it’s just pushing a broom,” she said.
Louis Sr. instilled that work ethic in all of his family growing up. “Grandfather was the first one out on the floor, always working and moving, and he took people up with him,” Gabriel said. “He really believed if he succeeded, you were going to succeed. It wasn’t about a handout, it was a hand up.”
Workers unloaded trees at Robles Christmas Trees run by Gabriel Robles.
Louis Sr. was well-respected by his creditors and so beloved by his employees that they insisted on filling his grave themselves after his sudden death in 1984. But the senior Robles never attended any of his son’s games in high school, Louis Jr. said, and he missed many family activities because of work.
“That was his blind spot. He always put business first,” Louis Jr. said. “I decided I wanted a balance — I would take care of business but I would also take time to go to my children’s games.”
Louis Sr. was such a force of nature, no one was prepared when he fell in December 1984. Because this was the family’s busy season, he insisted on working despite a bad cold that turned into walking pneumonia, Louis Jr. said. He told his family he would rest in January.
He almost made it. Shortly before Christmas Louis Robles had a stroke, then a heart attack and, on Dec. 27, at age 60, he died.
Gabriel Robles, right, consults with his father, Louis Robles Jr., while Gabriel’s son Mason, left, checks his phone during the first delivery of this year’s Christmas trees at his West Covina lot.
Louis Sr.’s death, so unexpected, required Louis Jr. to take over the business himself, but it also cemented his vow to put God and family first. “I remember playing in the all-stars game in baseball and looking for my dad, and he wasn’t there, and I thought, ‘I’m not going to do that to my kids,’” he said.
Gabriel laughed, saying: “My dad was so much into my basketball games, I got kind of embarrassed.”
Eventually, the watermelon and produce business became too competitive, and Louis Jr. sold the warehouse around 2012. By then, Robles Produce was debt-free, he said. His children were working, getting married and established in their own homes, and he’d been ordained as a pastor in 1999 and was deeply involved in his church. But the family pumpkin patch and Christmas tree business remained a constant.
“It does get in your blood,” said Lorraine’s husband, Joseph, with a laugh. “I got my blood transfusion when I married my wife.”
Today, Louis Jr. acts as an advisor and consultant to his children’s three pumpkin patches and Christmas tree lots. They meet to discuss pricing and inventory, but the siblings run their own lots with each a little different from the other. There are disagreements, of course, Gabriel said, “but in the end, the thing that makes us so successful is we’re united — if someone goes against us, we’re a united front.”
Louis Robles, 76, center, of El Monte, poses with three generations of his family: son Gabriel Robles, of Fontana, far left, with his daughter Loren, 15, wife Kathy, and two sons sitting up top, Mason 19, left, and Roman, 21, Louis’ daughters Lisa Nassar, of Upland, right, Lorraine Robles-Acosta, of Pomona, and Lorraine’s husband Joseph Acosta, far right, at Robles Christmas Trees in West Covina. Gabriel’s sons say they are eager to continue the family business. “I’ve been bitten by the bug,” said Mason.
It’s not clear how many of Louis Sr.’s seven great-grandchildren will continue the family business, but Gabriel’s sons, Roman and Mason, say they’re on board. Both have opted to skip college for a hands-on business course, soaking up whatever they can from their father and grandfather.
“Our great-great-grandfather started with nothing, and now we have this. And every generation we’ve built it higher,” Mason said.
“Not many kids my age are blessed to have a family business to learn from,” said Roman. “I want to do something more with my life than just showing up.”
Lifestyle
Kumail Nanjiani opens up on his regrets, critical failures and embracing fear : Wild Card with Rachel Martin
A note from Wild Card host Rachel Martin: Here’s my theory about Kumail Nanjiani: He is not a person who is afraid of his feelings. I think he’s the opposite of that kind of person.
Kumail has made his emotional life part of his comedy – whether it’s his deep and abiding love for his wife (as told in the hit movie, “The Big Sick”), his obsession with his cat or the anxiety that grips him in the middle of the night – Kumail’s brand of comedy is often about how we feel our way through living.
His new standup special is on Hulu and it’s called “Night Thoughts.”
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