I’m 53 today.

I’ve got a slew of truths and reflections coming in this Sunday’s newsletter that you’re going to want to read.

But first, to celebrate, last week we took a family vacation.

This Is the Present

There’s nothing I love more than the four of us being together. That feeling means more to me with each passing year. That’s the present.

Auden flew in from Colorado and we met up at LAX. We picked up Harper at his dorm and spent the week together in Manhattan Beach.

Kate found an amazing Airbnb on Crest Drive, two blocks from the beach. It even had a sauna for me. We went to a @lakings game (love a good hockey fight), ate our way through town @gjelinarestaurant @nicksmanhattanbeach @eat_fwd @loveandsaltla @saltandstraw, and absolutely overdid it on Hanukkah shopping on Abbott Kinney and in Malibu @buckmason @thestronghold @metalwoodstudio @kith @onegoldenthread @erl.

We walked miles. We lived. We laughed. We loved every minute of it.

Walking Behind My Boys

I could walk behind my boys and listen to them talk forever. I get immense joy from being their father, and even greater joy knowing they genuinely enjoy being brothers. I found myself constantly eavesdropping and taking it all in. Clothes. Music. Girls. School. Work. Friends. Food.

I can’t quite put it into words, except to say that I hope every man feels about his kids the way I feel about mine.

This really is the best time of my life. It’s the best of both worlds. Our relationship with our boys has independence now. They’re thriving. Kate and I are in our early 50s and fully in it.

Proof Shows Up When You’re Not Looking

At one point, a guy stopped Auden on the street and asked who made his pants. They started talking clothes, and I just stood there thinking, holy shit, he’s a real young man. Eye contact. Introductions. Conversation. It was awesome.

Later, we found a waxed canvas jacket at @thestronghold, a seriously great store on Abbott Kinney, one of our favorite streets in the world. Auden put it on. Perfect fit. Statement piece. Investment piece. He turned to me and said, “Dad, I feel like a man in this.” Harper looked once and said, “Sick.” Sold.

“Your Dad’s Killing It.”

We grabbed pizza at Gjelina Takeaway, a tiny counter spot with four seats that spills onto the sidewalk. Harper complimented a guy on his outfit. Turns out the guy is a Michelin-starred chef who’s worked at some of the best restaurants in the world and now runs his own place, Le Comptoir LA. He started asking me about fitness and how I eat. He’s 56. Four kids. Serious career.

At some point he looks at my boys and says, “Your dad’s killing it.”

And you know what? I am.

I’m proud of the shape I’m in. I’m proud of how I’m living. I couldn’t say that for a long time. I couldn’t accept a compliment. Today, I can hear it and simply say thank you.

What could be more important than setting a good example for my sons? And what better way to honor my father than by prioritizing my health? I think about that often.

Occasionally, I Indulge

We heard there was a big holiday fireworks show on Manhattan Beach. They do it every year. Streets closed. Thousands of people lining the Strand. We just happened to time it perfectly.

I don’t indulge much these days. I don’t drink or do drugs, but I do enjoy a gummy once in a while, and this felt like the right night. We’re very open in our family about what’s acceptable and what’s not, what they do, what I do. So Auden and I made a quick dispensary stop. Listening to him explain exactly what I was looking for was both impressive and mildly concerning.

Mission accomplished. We walked down to the beach. I was laughing, swaying, mesmerized by the fireworks. Probably a few tears, too. Just appreciating the moment with my favorite people. They all laughed at me. I’m the butt of most family jokes. I don’t care. As long as they’re laughing.

Pancakes & Movies

When we got back to our place after the fireworks I was starving.

When everyone went downstairs to change into comfy clothes and get the fireplace going for a movie, I went straight to the kitchen and started making pancakes. Lots of pancakes. And bacon. It was glorious.

They all come upstairs and burst out laughing at me whisking batter like it’s a competitive sport. Auden got a video. I’m pretty sure it’s already made the rounds.

Mornings are my time. I was up every day from 7–9am, walking the beach. Friends and clients drove in to meet me. There’s something powerful about grabbing a coffee and walking side by side. Real conversation. Listening. No distractions.

Trips like this don’t just create memories. They reinforce what we’re actually working so hard to build and protect.

They slow time down. They put us shoulder to shoulder instead of across screens. They let you see your kids not as little boys anymore, but as the men they’re becoming.

This is the return on everything. The work. The discipline. The choices to take care of yourself and stay present.

You don’t need more stuff or bigger plans. You need more moments where you’re fully there.

Plan the Year Like It Matters

2026 is a week away.
Plan it.

In health,

Midlife Male
52. Husband. Father. Entrepreneur. Coach. Mediocrity happens by default. Maximization happens by design.

PS: Want to set the tone for the best year of your life?

Let’s talk. I have a few openings left for 1:1 coaching and my private adventure group. It’s not about resolutions, it’s about resolve. Book your call with me to see if we’re a good fit here.

My Midlife Male book isn’t fluff or feel-good nonsense. It’s a straight-talk guide to living happier, healthier, and wealthier in the years that count most. Get it here.