Rest in Peace, Aunt Ann

My father was one of three siblings. Ann was born first, and turned 99 !! last month. My Dad died at 63 --he'd have been 94 in May. The youngest, Harry, died in his early 40s, when I was a young boy. Ann died last night, 11 months before she would have "made the Smuckers jar," as my sister Trudy pointed out. A TV weatherman puts pictures of the 100 year olds on the Smuckers jam jars, on his morning show... Ann lived with my cousin Steve, who is 60. The two were unusually close. Steve never moved away, and I think they had meals together just about every night of Steve's life. Steve's an accountant, and very shy, and one of those old school bachelors you rarely meet these days. I spoke to him while Ann was hospitalized. She signed a DNR order, and Steve opposed it. He couldn't bear to lose her. But Ann was sharp mentally until the end, and she went out on her own terms. She and Steve lived in the same Jackson Heights, Queens apartment forever. My grandmother used to live the floor below, and my early memories of visits were how scared I was in the elevator. I was a purely suburban kid, and elevators seemed claustrophobic and spooky. Grandma read the Yiddish papers, and lived a rather quiet life. When we moved to Florida, I saw my father looking sad. I asked him why, and he answered that while he wasn't close with his mother, he might never see her alive again. He was right, ironically. He died before she did. Grandma made it to 97, happily senile. I saw her last in 1984, on a trip with my then girlfriend, now Wifey. She died the next year. Ann was a self taught intellectual. She tutored Russian immigrants in English. Several years ago, D1 and I were in NY with Esther, D1's very British friend. We took a trip to see Ann, and Esther remarked how much she reminded Esther of a "very proper British lady." Ann had that air about her. So now my father's generation of family is all gone. I'm the last male with the family name, and I have no sons, so after I jump off the mortal coil there will be no more. Steve has plenty of money, and must now set about living the rest of his life. I told him that my mother made some of the closest friends she had when she was his age -- and moved to Florida. Her friends gave her so much joy -- traveling together, socializing, comparing notes on grandkids and politics. Steve is a HAM radio operator, and has acquaintances in his club. I hope he develops them into true friends. I hope he travels. I hope he savors his life. I went on a mile walk at dawn today, and reflected on Ann. She hated spending money, and traveled rarely. When we last spoke, she told me she had made a mistake -- she wished she had moved to Florida, where she preferred the climate. I asked why she didn't still make the move, even now. "Oh no -- it would cost far too much now." So she lived as she chose -- a very long, long life. 99. Amazing.

Innkeeper

Our friends Sandra and Dave left last night, and I completed my job as innkeeper, for now. I carried their bags to the aging Volvo, and drove them to MIA. I returned home, and stripped the sheets, washed them with the towels, and prepared the room for its next use -- watching NFL football. Sunday night we had a terrific party. Nearly 30 were there, and D1 made her cognac based "songbird" drinks, while I poured vodka and gin, wine, and gave out cold beers. We gathered on the front patio (or loggia, if I want to be snooty) and old and new friends shared a great time. My friend Norman called the next am to say his partners were billing me for his lost production Monday am -- the sign of a great party the night before. My partner Paul was busy with his family, but still made the drive and helped with the bartending as well. He engaged several folks with his fine raconteur skills... It was nice to have the house filled with guests, happily drinking and snacking on sushi and Chinese dumplings. Japan and China aren't allies, but their foods get along... Monday we took Dave and Sandra to Wagon's West, and Dr. Vince joined us, as did D1. The place only has booths, really made for 4, but we squeezed 6 in tight, and enjoyed breakfast. Later that night, we drove to Brickell and met D1 and her boyfriend Joel at Perricone's -- a lovely Italian place where we enjoyed the cool night breezes with out pasta. Vince joined us again, after his stepdaughters canceled a dinner with him, and then we all walked around Mary Brickell Village before decamping to D1's apartment, where Dave, Sandra, and Vince marveled at the gorgeous night views. Yesterday, our innkeeper/tourguide roles continued, as we took Dave and Sandra first to South Miami for lunch, and then to Lincoln Road. They loved it -- the array of beautiful people, and dogs, and shops. They lamented their impending return to cold, rainy, gray England. Today normal life resumes. I'm headed to the office, and then my FIU class tonight. I'm having lunch with an old client Friday -- a lady who has referred us much of our business, to see if we can't ramp up again in 2013. Dr. Dave is likely retiring from his doctor gig this year -- at 58. England's National Health Service doesn't make docs wealthy, but it does provide a nice pension. Last night I told him we ought to market his humor flyer, which he puts out monthly, as a second career. He loved the idea that he might make money from "a limited vocabulary." For now, I guess we'll both keep trudging along...

My 'Hood

As we travel through life's stages, it's natural to take stock, and strategize about the next moves. When the Ds were little, it was all about which 'hood had the best public schools, as Wifey and I are both strong proponents of them knowing not everyone's parents are professionals... Next we got caught up, briefly, in the agonizing over where they'd go to college. That was easy for us, mercifully, as I gave the Ds a choice: go to a private and expensive school and live like I did in college --spartanly -- or go to the free state U and live like a queen. They both chose Door number 2, though as we all learn, there's no free lunch. D1 is promised a grand wedding someday, and D2 is eying an expensive private graduate school... So lately, as empty nesters, the talk has been about downsizing. Wifey and I both love Miami, and don't dream of living elsewhere, but we talk about maybe moving to a condo in the Grove, or a small house in the Gables. But then, this am, I took another walk in my neighborhood, with the dog of unknown breed who we call the sausage. Her stubby legs and even stubbier body move quite effectively, and we did the 1.1 mile circle at a healthy pace. We only passed one neighbor -- the fellow we all call the asshole. We call him this because he's the only one out of 84 houses who refuses to pay the $150 yearly voluntary dues to keep up the entrances, pay for the entrance lights, and have a yearly party...He was walking his pretty dog -- a Sheltie -- and the great news is his house is for sale, so presumably we'll replace him with someone who thinks paying fair share is the way to go in life. But enough about the asshole... It's tree trimming season, so as the sausage dog and I walked, we admired the new vistas and unique architecture of the houses. When the original owner of the estate that is now my 'hood subdivided and sold, he was careful to sell only to individuals -- no developers -- and the result is an array of architecture ranging from Mediterranean (like our house) to ultra modern 80s "Miami Vice" to classic late 50s ranch style, to the old Tudor style of the remaining 1923 house. The newest house was finished last year, and it's a Key West style huge place but built on a curve that follows the lot, so that it blends in beautifully. The smallest house is a Colonial Williamsburgh reproduction, whose landscaping has just been beautifully done by the new Sub Continent owners... Since I grew up in the Levittown area -- the birthplace of the cookie cutter house -- I have always disliked that style. Wifey agrees -- being a product of the Canarsie row homes that also all looked alike. When we bought our first house, we chose an impractical quirky 1400 square foot place, with no garage, over a similar priced townhome that would have been more practical -- but we joked that the development -- where our friends Mike and Loni moved -- might cause me to come into the wrong place at night for the sameness of all the residences... My 'hood is gloriously walkable. It's a tropical hammock. One say I may see peafowl -- another day wild foxes -- and always an array of lazy, unafraid of dog - cats -- lounging on driveways and on porches. The Ds love the place, too. It represents security -- the true shelter from the storms of life. It's funny -- my mother moved to a Delray condo in 1979 and lived there for 33 years -- and yet it never felt like home at all to me. She loved it -- first her sisters lived there, and then an array of friends -- and she appreciated how easy it was to maintain. But the place was a concrete block in an enormous parking lot -- and to this very day when I visit I get an uneasy feeling there --essentially the opposite feeling I get in my house. And tonight we open it, again, to friends. D1 and I will tend bar, and Canton will deliver the party food as they have for parties Wifey and I have thrown since the mid 80s (though now sushi is part of the deal, too). I'll throw open the doors, and music will play, and folks we adore will gather. No -- I don't see leaving this house anytime soon -- if ever.

The Parties Go On

So D2 returned safely, thankfully, to UF, and D1 is readying herself for the beginning of her internship. D1 got great news: FIU is letting her do her community healthcare spot at UM Hospital -- even though FIU never had an affiliation there. D1 learned that the FIU supervisor knew the UM Dietetics supervisor, and so worked it out. So now she can ride MetroRail to her job, through March, and begin the job of learning what it really means to practice her profession. Last night my sister had a surprise party for my bro in law Dennis. Wifey and I fired up the aging Volvo SUV, and stopped first at Miami Jewish. Wifey visited her Dad; I met Mom, who already had Mirta with her. We sat under the gazebo and ate ice cream. From there we drove up to Boynton Beach. I got to see my grand nephew and grand nieces for the first time in 3 years, and it was a treat. They're all beatiful, bright, and adorable kids. The oldest, Hanna, is about to turn 16 and is a poised, lovely young lady. She was there with her boyfriend -- a nice fellow who looks a LOT like my California nephew PJ. Dennis was led into the noisy and crowded restaurant, and when everyone shouted "Surprise" he was visibly shocked and delighted. I spent the evening talking with 2 of his friends -- both airline pilots -- and we joked that most folks would rather be surrounded at a dinner by airline pilots than lawyers... My partner Paul drove all the way up to the restaurant just to give Dennis a nice bottle of wine, and hug him. Paul and I were chatting by a table, when a nasty old woman in an unmistakeable NY accent told me were were "interupting her conversation!" We laughed and slinked away... Dennis had his brother in law Tom there -- a delightful fellow and Stan Laurel lookalike who I hadn't seen in quite awhile. Another friend from 50 years ago, George, was there, as well as various and other friends from cruises and golf. Dennis beamed -- it was great to see. And the damned fun continues! Our friends Dave and Sandra from Stoke, in the English Midlands, are coming to stay. We'll welcome them tomorrow night with cocktails and sushi. Wifey, D2, and I met Dave and Sandra in Dublin 6 summers ago. We took a pub crawl, and, keeping up with Dave, I drank 8 pints of Guinness. I was amazed and sloshing around like a water balloon, when he took us to an Indian restaurant, and announced we needed a Super Pint of Tiger Ale -- an Indian beer even stronger than the Guinness. It's more beer than I ever drank or probably ever will. So we might toss back a few tomorrow and Monday nights...

It's Like the Fun Never Ends

Winter holidays have always been an extended affair for Wifey and me -- especially since we chose to get married right after New Year's Day. Although, as my friend Jeff reminded me -- the wedding was nearly canceled. The day before, January 2, 1987, our awesome Canes team played Penn State for the National Championship, and my groomsmen and I watched. The Canes were heavily favored, but blew the game when Vinny Testaverde tossed the last pass into the arms of a Penn State defensive back. We were crestfallen. Jeff leaned over snd said "You're not getting married now, are you?" I seriously considered his suggestion, but we went ahead anyway, and all worked out. The Canes went on to win 4 more titles, and they soared alongside Wifey and I... This year we waited to celebrate our anniversary until D1 returned from the Midwest. Her flight arrived late on the 3rd, and we headed home. We went to our go-to celebration restaurant for lunch yesterday -- Christy's, and enjoyed salmon and filet medallions -- at a prix fixe of $18 per person! D2 was supposed to head back to UF today, but her friends Rebecca and Leah's father died. The funeral is tomorrow, so she's going to attend, and then hit the road in caravan with her roomie Catherine. Next weekend, our English friends the Sheppards are coming to the 305, and we're hosting them. I decided to use their visit as an excuse for our first Villa Wifey get together in awhile -- so we're planning a coctail party for some friends. Wifey was reluctant, at first, but I prevailed on her to let me reclaim my mojo in 2013 -- and part of that is by becoming a tavernkeeper -- like my late mentor Ed. Ed used to love having folks to his great house, and I always admired that. I followed in his path, but somehow grew lazy and disillusioned with people. I seek to end that this year, along with my theme of "no more broken stuff -- rebuilding." I started working out, and am up to 40 abdominal crunches. I used to do 100 sit ups in high school, and apparently the muscles I build over 30 years ago are there, under my nice sized belly. I aim to bring 'em out, as the rappers rap... AndI signed up for a class at FIU -- staring this Wednesday. It's one night a week -- 3 hours, and it's a study of the Jews of India and Africa. I'm auditing it, so no papers, but it'll allow me to reclaim my academic dilettante status... Wifey is staying away, on account of her back, but maybe she'll join me for some classes later on. So, in '13 -- so far, so good. I plan to work more -- I have some appointments already to meet with some referral sources for cases -- and get healthier and maybe smarter. Back...though not in black...

Ringing in the New

D2 and her friend and roomie Ashley decamped to their other roomie Cath's for NYE, D1 was in frosty Indiana, and Wifey and I headed to Captain's Tavern -- a place that is a throwback... Our friend Sheryl was visiting from Boston -- her native home and the place she's lived for 10 years, but Miami is still home to her. She keeps close a great circle of friends from her early mommy days, and put together the group. Wifey and I planned to eat at the Tavern, and then go to Dr. Dave and Maureen's house. Dr. Dave invited Wifey for drinks, but when Wifey mentioned this to Maureen -- she was uninvited. Apparently Maureen failed to give her approval for a party, and since all Dave does is earn all the family's income and support everyone -- he gets no say... So Wifey figured we'd just head home afterwards. My dear friend Vince was a last minute addition -- apparently one of the attendees, a CPA, died last week, and so couldn't attend, and Vince took his place. As we drank our cocktails, we toasted the poor bastard -- though we'd never met him. I sat next to my old law school friend Lisa and her boyfriend of 8 years. Lisa, who has a son D2's age as well as 2 older kids, is truly one of the mentschiest folks I know -- and we caught up on career and life tales since our graduation -- now nearly 27 years past. We had such a great time, we decided to accept the invite for the dessert party hosted by Gayle and Jay. We decamped to their lovely house in Galloway Glenn, and watched the Times Square and Big Orange drops and rises... Meanwhile, Sheryl -- always making deals and fixing folks up -- called her single friend and told her to high tail it to the party to meet the single guy. The friend did -- she was lovely -- and perhaps there will be a love connection going into the new year... One of the guests, Dr. Dean, was in attendance. He's our neighbor, and led us into the living room where he played Broadway show tunes, as we sang along. It was truly fun, and warm, and a great entry into 2013. Wifey and I didn't get home until 2:30 am! We always joke that all we hope to do on New Year's Eve is stay up until midnight. Well the hell with that. We daily see the slow end of life, through our nursing home resident father and mother, and I think in a strange way that's motivated us to stay as young as we can. We will NOT go to bed too early any more! We made plans to celebrate with the same group next year. Will all the couples be together? Will new bonds form? It ought to be a fine ride, and I, for one, look forward to it.