This episode is an observation, not a complaint.

Gen X often gets described through extremes, either romanticized as “tough” or criticized as “emotionally distant.” This conversation sits somewhere quieter than that.

We grew up with more independence, less supervision, and a strong expectation that we’d figure things out as we went. That experience didn’t make us better or worse, but it did make us different.

This episode explores:

• Growing up with early responsibility and trust
• Learning by consequence rather than constant correction
• Why Gen X tends to prioritize solutions over emotional processing
• How humor and sarcasm became tools, not shields
• The difference between acknowledging feelings and expecting them to solve problems

There’s no blame here, and no nostalgia contest. Just a look at how experience shapes perspective, and why Gen X often moves through the world with a calm, practical approach that doesn’t always announce itself.

Just something I was thinking about.

January 2

January 1 gets all the attention. January 2 is quieter.

It’s the day after the promises, the resolutions, the countdowns. The calendar has flipped, but life hasn’t fully caught up yet.

In this episode, I reflect on what it means to step into a new year without pretending everything resets overnight. Not with hype or pressure, but with honesty.

We talk about:

· Why the idea of a “clean slate” doesn’t really match how life works

· What last year gave us, whether we asked for it or not

· What’s worth carrying forward, and what we’re finally ready to set down

· How to look ahead without needing everything mapped out

This isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about being more honest with who we already are.

Just something I was thinking about. See you next time.

This episode is a quiet Christmas offering.

After the gifts have been opened and the meal is finished, there’s a moment when the house settles back into itself. The fire is still burning. The tree lights are still on. Outside, the day is fading into winter evening, but inside everything feels warm, calm, and safe.

This episode features a short collection of instrumental Christmas music built around familiar, traditional melodies. It’s meant to be played softly, in the background, while the night winds down. No vocals, no commentary. Just music for sitting still when nothing else is required of you.

If you’d like to listen to or save the full playlist, you can find it here:

https://suno.com/playlist/d6d42da9-65a8-4f22-a024-e40cafc85d22

Concept, creative direction, and curation by Andy Lee.

This episode started as a continuation of a series — and then it shifted.

What began as reflections on small, everyday interactions slowly turned into something deeper: a conversation about irritation, presence, and the moments that ask more of us than we planned to give.

In this episode, I talk through why Parts Two and Three of The Face ended up living in the same space, and what happens when humor gives way to awareness. Not answers. Not solutions. Just noticing what these moments might be teaching us — even when we don’t feel ready for the lesson.

This one wandered a bit. And maybe it needed to.

Thanks for listening.

Just something I was thinking about.

In Part One of a three-part series, Andy talks about “The Face” — that unexplainable thing that causes complete strangers to tell him their entire life story in grocery lines, gas stations, churches, and anywhere else he’s just trying to mind his business. Funny, relatable, and unexpectedly meaningful, this episode looks at oversharing, human connection, and the stories people carry with them.

Somewhere between the third meme and the 47th “recommended for you,” I realized I didn’t even know what I was looking for. In this episode, I’m taking a lighthearted look at doom-scrolling, distraction, and the strange comfort of getting lost online. If you’ve ever said “one more scroll” and lied to yourself… this one’s for you.

A gentle reminder that not every day has to be extraordinary. In this episode, I reflect on the quiet value of ordinary days — and why simply “having a day” is sometimes exactly what we need.