Black Friday

H.L. Mencken said no one ever went broke unerestimating the intelligence of the American people. I kept rhinking of that quote as I watched news reports of people lining up ON THANKSGIVING to be able to get into big box stores, to then fight with other idiots, to "save" money buying all kinds of crap. I guess I ought to change my attitude. As an owner of stock in companies that sell retial goods --it benefits me greatly. Every idiot ought to increase my investment value, in theory. But still... I want NOTHING to do with stores for the next month. It always turns out that I end up shopping --maybe my shoes wear out, or something of that nature. Wifey and our friend and houseguest Elizabeth are at Home Depot as I write. Wifey told Elizabeth that the area by our front gate is an "eyesore." Wifey uses hyperbole often. When I hear the word "eyesore," I think of abandoned tenements in the South Bronx. For Wifey, it can mean about 100 square feet on earth beneath some small palm trees... Whatever. They're off buying bromeliads or ferns or something. I plan to watch them plant these things, as I have a strict prohibition against doing yard work --especially when it moght conflict with watching football. Plus, the last times I pulled some vines from trees, I broke out in a nasty rash. The rash was on my hands, and face where I wiped sweat from my brow, and then I had to pee... I prefer to keep the eyesores intact. T Day was sublime. D1 and Joel left, and D2 went to Jonathan's house for dinner, after an enormous feast where our sparkling wine glasses were kept full by the amazing wait staff. After lunch, we walked to the beach, and I spoke to my Mom and Dad, and we took some photos. From there we decamped to the hotel lobby, and talked about the futures for the young folks. As Wifey and I drove off the Key, we both sighed...it was another wonderful T Day --with no fuss, no muss, no anger, or tensosity. The last isn't a word, but should be. It was coined by my friend Alan, to describe tension in a domestic situation. No, no tensosity. No black Friday shopping. A time of thanks, indeed.

Giving Thanks

So I attended my office's pre T Day feast yesterday. Joel paid for the ingredients, and the staff all cooked -- delicious food. Nilda, from Buenos Aires, made a turkey with Italian spices, and some of the Cubanas made pies with apple, pumpkin, and GUAVA. From there I headed to get my haircut, to look pretty for the holidays, and joked with Dania, my long time cutter. Her daughter and D2 met in grade school, and now Lindsay is finishing up at FIU and working at Best Buy. Sure enough, Dania told me, Lindsay has to work T Day. Our idiot country needs to start shopping then, it seems... From there I met Wifey and D2 for a traditional first night of Chanukah meal of Italian food --at Di Napoli. And then Wifey braved the crowd at Whole Foods to buy some latkes and jelly donuts -- which we ate while lighting the menorah -- D2 recited the blessings over the candles. I performed my usual holiday ritual -- fetching the electric menorah from its shelf in the garage -- placing it in the front window, and turning it on. Ah, the benefits of not having to mess with Xmas, and all its decorations. We then debated T Day history -- how long we've been making the holiday just a nuclear family event. I said 7 years -- Wifey and D2 thought it was fewer years. D2 came to my rescue -- I was correct -- since '07 we've been letting the chefs at the Ritz do all the work for us. One year we detoured from Key Biscayne to Coconut Grove, but then realized the after meal activities were boring being on a city street as opposed to Biscayne Bay. So today the plan is for Wifey, D2, and I to meet D1 and Joel, and Jonathan at 1 -- consuming mass quantities, as is our Big Man given right as Americans -- and then walking along the beach for awhile. And the weather is here -- a delicious first cold front of the year is upon us -- I fetched the paper in the early am chill. A high of 70 is predicted -- perfect walking the beach with bursting bellies weather. Jonathan's family has invited D2 to dinner afterwards -- a Venezuelan, Ashkenazi Jewish feast. So she'll go home with him, spend the night there, and meet Wifey and I tomorrow at MJH -- to visit with my inlaws. My mother in law wants to take us to Soyka on Black Friday -- so the eating in earnest will continue. We all met at Soyka right after my Mom died -- 7 months ago. Dr. Barry and Edna were there, and D1 and Joel joined us. This is my first Thanksgiving as an orphan -- though Mom was fading and ghost-like for several years before. I'm extremely thankful for the life and love she gave me, as well as my Dad, and plan to chat with them when I'm seaside today. So on this Thanksgiving/2nd Day of Chanukah 2013, I have no just complaints. Just the peaceful, easy feeling that comes from extreme gratitude.

Hey -- Can I Borrow a Quarter?

I remember it like it was yesterday: Wifey awoke, in our classic 80s era Scandinavian bed (teak veneer over pressed board, with bizarre fasteners holding the thing together) and said, in her sweet Southern twang, "Sweetie -- ah think it may be time." OK, so the years soften details, and in fact she Brooklyn Jewish girl whined to me the same message. Time truly does make memories better... Anyway, I took her to South Miami Hospital, we met her docs Richard Strassborg, a laconic Wisconsin born and raised Jewish guy, and Debbie Kenward, a local Miami girl who went from Miami Dade to UF to a very succesful ob/gyn practice...and we waited. And waited and waited. It was a Sunday, and Dr. S and I watched the Jets beat the Fins, in one of those great Marino-O'Brien pass fests...And still we waited...through the West Coast game -- I think it was the San Diego Chargers... Finally, Wifey still wasn't "progressing," and the fetal monitor showed some distress, and I told the 2 docs words Wifey still remembers clearly: "We're not very anti-C section, you know." This is because I was already, as a young PI lawyer, all too familiar with the brain damaged outcomes of births that go on too long. And even then, peri partum, I was looking out for tiny D1's interests... And so there came the baby-ectomy, and D1 joined this great earthly party. It was early in the evening. And I fell in love, and am still in love. And it was a quarter century past, today. Last night, D2 and Wifey and I had dinner with Dr. Barry, before he and I decamped to a Bioethics class we're taking together. D1 now works at his hospital, as a clinical dietician. He told us he strolled into the cafeteria, and D1 was holding court at the end of a table -- a bunch of students hanging onto her every word -- she was a true professor. She was teaching about nutrition. How can this be -- this tiny Pipsqueak -- I saw her removed from Wifey just a few weeks ago, and she was a baby... So 25 years fly by -- like spending a quarter at the casino slot machine. And D1's quarter was one enormous winner.

The Dynamics of a House

I say this ad nauseum, but I really love my house. When I first saw it from the street, from over the thick hedge, it made me think of Hemingway's Key West house -- yellow set against green tropical foliage. It's not really like that -- my house is a classic Mediterranean style -- but the feel I got was love at first sight. As I toured the place, I knew this was where I wanted to live and raise the Ds, and fortunately, after initial reluctance, Wifey agreed. And so we bought the place 13 years ago next month. The Ds were 12 and 8, and, indeed, we were exceptionally blessed with wonderful memories of their growing up here. There was always a dog infestation of some kind or another, and the neighborhood was completely safe for them to walk or ride bikes -- meeting other neighborhood dogs (and spotting the occasional fox or peacock). I still love the place, and can't bring myself to seriously consider taking a nice profit and moving closer to the city -- something that may eventually happen. The house has been mostly quiet the past 3 years -- with the Ds living eleswhere, and no more than one usual and one visiting dog. Last month Wifey went to Atlanta for 8 days and the place was VERY quiet -- just me and the strange looking rescue dog. And then, yesterday came a wonderful surprise: D2 came home early from Gville! She and D1 planned the early homecoming --D1 took the train here rather than her Brickell apartment. The 4 of us went for sushi, and then came hone. And I realized how much more spectacular our house is with the Ds here --the Ds playfully teasing each other, in the manner of loving sisters, and Wifey the good natured object of their humor. We sat in the family room -- dogs snuggling on the couch, and watched "Jeopardy" and then some Larry David and Sarah Silverman comedy shows. And we talked, and shared the amazing love we have for each other -- a truly sacred thing. So cliches are cliches because they're true: an empty house, no matter how lovely, is just a pretty shell. When it's filled with those you love, it's a home. And I savor mine.

It's That Most Wondeful Time

So it's the last weekend before Thanksgiving -- long one of my favorite holidays. And this year, it coincides with Chanukah -- a favorite when I was a kid, and thought getting presents was cool. Speaking of cool --it's NOT. We're still waiting for a real cold front to come in, and drop the temperature below 80. My firepit, my favorite possession, awaits a chilly night... Wifey came with me to her only Canes game of the year -- and had a great time. We tailgated, and I acquitted myself well in the vodka department -- especially knowing I had a designated driver. Mike came by, and Norman and Maria hosted a fine breakfast of bagels and lox. Dana baked a fine apple pie, and Barry made blintzes. I got to see my classic Miami tailgate scene: folks playing dominoes while eating bagels. Jews and Cubans -- classic 305. The Canes won big, and then Wifey adjusted the driver's seat in the Man Car Buick and drove us to MJH to see her Dad. MY buzz was blissfully still there, and we wheeled him outside, near his beloved ficus and oak trees. He asked 5 times about how old they were, and about 10 times about the Ds' whereabouts. Damn Alzheimers. It really is the cruellest disease... Wifey stopped by one of the rooms to pet a cute dog, and the owner was a sharp as a tack 93 year old. Her daughter was there, and saw our last name on Wifey's id sticker. She asked if we knew Charles, who is active in kids' charities. I told the daughter I did, and that I had just begun work as a Guardian Ad Litem. We knew a lot of the same folks... Today Wifey was headed to a D1 function -- charity luncheon for Holocaust Survivors. I begged off -- I never want to overdo the in law thing, and I'm taking them both to Soyka's for a Black Friday lunch when D2 is here. Speaking of D2 -- she's due in Wednesday. I haven't seen her since September -- too long. When more than a month passes without seeing my Ds, I get withdrawal. But she'll be here for T Day, and then back a week later for Winter break. I plan to fly to Gville on the 11th, and then drive with D2 to Orlando. We'll spend a night at Universal -- some cheesy theme hotel -- and then go to Springfield -- the Simpson's theme park. I haven't been to a theme park since I think D2 was 8. I figure I can take it once every 10 years... Thursday we plan on brunch at the Key Biscayne Ritz -- our 7th year in a row. The Ds and Joel and Jonathan will be there -- we'll consume mass quantities of traditional T day food, PLUS stone crabs PLUS all kinds of seafood, and then we'll collapse by Biscayne Bay, enjoying the bounty... Afterwards we'll light a menorah -- in the same way the Ds bring light to our lives. Ah -- the most wonderful time of the year...

A Day of Hookey With Mirta

Wifey's bad back has stopped rearing its ugly head, and so she's taken her second trip: 8 days to the ATL to visit Edna. Friday I was going to head to the office, but my sister of another mother Mirta called --was I free for lunch? I was. She's getting ready to begin intense study for her nursing boards, and wanted a break. Since my partner Paul was working hus usual 50 hour week, and I knew all things business were well taken care of, I decided to play hookey. Mirta came over, and we conspired. Well -- there may be a better place for hookey than the Florida Keys, but if there is, I don't know it. Se we took Wifey's little girle Lexus, since ut has a sunroof, and headed South. Mirta had never been to Alabama Jack's, the shanty on Card Sound Road, and I pulled it. The waitress, a typical Homestead/Upper Keys lady --blonde, with leathery skin -- probably VERY hot in the 80s but married the wrong guy or guys -- greeted us. I told her it was Mirta's first time. No problem, honey, she said -- she lived in Homestead her whole life (I AM good, sometimes) and only came to Alabama JAcks 2 years ago -- to apply for a job. We ate conch fritters, conch chowder, peel and ear shrimp, and a couple of fish sandwiches. From there I showed Mirta the best view in the Keys -- the top of the Card Sound bridge, and we drove a few miles down US 1. I pulled into a bayside place, and we sat at the water --drinking pina coladas. Mirta's had a 151 floater ---mine was regular. We stared at the water and talked -- mostly about my late mother. Mirta cared for her greatly during her time at the nursing home -- and Mirta told me how much Sunny taught her -- about sticking to the positve, and avoiding drama and the negative. From there, we headed back to Villa Wifey, and took the strange dog for a walk. My neighbor Ellen, the local yenta, drove past, and shouted hello. Mirta noted she thought I was with Wifey... We talked some more, and then I got a text from Vince -- he was canceling our dinner meeting, as he was doing some late, eemergency boob job repairs. So Mirta and I headed my local Thai place -- it was packed. Over king of the sea soup and pad thai, we talked more -- about life, kids, and careers. And then she left, and I reflected how great it is to spend a day with a great froend who is a woman -- with none of the complications that accompany relationships with physical components. In other words: a terrific sister. Today Vince is due over to watch the Canes try to save their season -- they play at Duke. Vince got a new Harley, and Mirta wants a ride -- one of the things on her bucket list. Since Vince is a brother, and Mirta a sister -- they're related, too. She'll get her Harley ride, and I appreciate her company in Wifey's girlie Lexus. It was a damn fine day.

Old Alums

So D1 starts full time at Jackson Memorial on Tuesday, but yesterday she was asked to lecture to some 3rd year medical students. She called me excitedly to say it went great -- she loves teaching, as long as the students are smart (you don't get much smarter a bunch than med students -- especially those who still care about grades to get into good residencies). I was on the way to the U, to attend the grand opening of the new Student Center. Dana invited me --Dr. Eric couldn't get away from work, and Dana's good friend Pat is the long time Dean of Students -- the new center is her baby. So I arrived on campus, and parked near my beloved old apartment building -- 22. It's now just a well kept lawn. I walked over to the new center, and met Janet --Dr. Steve's wife. Her middle daughter is a UM med student. Janet told me she had spoke to her daughter, who went on happily about a great lecture she attended that day -- by D1! I asked Janet how this was possible. We met when her husband Steve was a first year med student, and I was a 1L. How can our kids now be older? Strange thing, this time is... I met Dana, and we attended the ceremony. The audience was about 500 mostly alums -- many OLDER than we were! The main gift was given by a fellow named Bruce Berkowitz. He's an odd duck. He sat quietly, with his wife, and didn't even speak when the crowd gave him a standing ovation. I guess when you give a university $20 million -- that talks enough. I'd read about huim. He 's a middle class Jewish kid from Boston, about my age, who started a hedge fund. It made him a billionaire. His best friend is a Cuban guy from Miami, who convinced him to move here about 7 years ago. Luckily for the U, his 3 kids all decided to go to college here, and he shyly asked the president if the U had any pressing needs. Well, she said, $20M might help a new Student Center get built. Done. I'd love to have that much money -- but just to give it away like that. I already have a big house, and no longer care about cars or clothes. Stuff doesn't do it for me -- I already like restaurants -- but I need to eat less. But to be able to give away LARGE amounts of money -- that would be fine. After the boring speeches, Dana and I toured the center. We saw the new student government rooms -- amazing. We met a freshman senator -- lovely girl from Connecticut. Dana told her Dr. Eric used to be speaker of the senate --and the rooms they met in were tiny. I told her I moved to Coral Gables from LI -- and never really left. The young lady said she already made her mind up -- she had sand in her shoes, too. We then saw the new Rathskellar -- 4 times the size of the old. We reminisced about our brother Barry's days working at the old one... Dana left for home, as I did. I told Wifey about our big shot D1 --lecturing to future docs about nutrition. Yes -- a strange thing, this passage of time.

D1 and the Real Life

I started today by seeing Dr. Dave, my friend and doctor, for my annual physical. He went over blood results from last week's draw, and, to my relief, said that for a fat pig, I was remarkably healthy. He didn't use those words, but in essence that was his message -- lose 50 lbs and do more exercise. I'm inspired. He asked me to get off the floor without using my hands to pull or push. I can do it -- 5 points, he said, towards not being feeble in old age. Ha. As if. I've already told my Rabbi friend, if he prays for me, to NOT include the word "long" when he says the prayers. "Great" and "full" and "quality," yes --"long" is, to my experience, very over rated. Then I had a happy errand: going to the bank with D1 to open her first business account. Through the courtesy of family friend Geoff, she now has a Florida LLC, and plans to do consulting work, in addition to her day job of clinical dietician at UM/Jackson. She had her first gig this weekend -- a doc in Broward, referred by a local friend. And, she got an initial loan to start the LLC from an angel investor named "Dad." We went together to Citibank, which has a great small business program, and learned that she has to amend her Florida docs, since they don't list her as an officer -- just an owner of the LLC. It was a handy welcome to the absurdity of government bureacracy. She'll send in the amendments and meet the banker later in the week... In the Miami is a small town/big city department: the first banker we met, who share's D1's name, told her she has a good friend who is a pediatric GI -- a fellow Brazilian. D1 knows her well -- the doc offered D1 a job. We smiled at the connection. Then we went to celebrate with Paul -- taking a few moments from his packed work schedule by having lunch -- and then we walked her to her building. As she walked away -- MS in Dietetics, a few weeks from turning 25, I reflected that it was just weeks ago that I dropped her off at Leewood Elementary -- a meticulously dressed, hair perfect, sweet and earnest grade schooler... So I WILL eat less and exercise. I want to see what's next for D1 and D2. The real life can be exquisite.

Canes Lost But Still An Awesome Weekend

Friday Wifey and I hosted 2 of my former UM profs and their wives at Salvatore -- our new favorite local Italian place. As usual, I felt elevated to be in the company of academics -- even though we talked mostly of kids, grandkids, and elderly or just deceased parents. Saturday I embraced my inner lazy pig, and never left the house. I read the paper, communed with the strange rescue dog, and wathed great college football. The Gators played Georgia, and lost in the last minutes. That always puts a smile on my face. Then, at 7, I left Wifey to go to Dr. Vince's, for a Canes-Noles watch party. Vince had 2 enormous boats of sushi, and his boy Tyler and friends grilled burgers and fish they had just caught earlier in the day. Norman and his boy Benji were there, as were Dr. Barry and Scott -- my nephew of another family. Mike came, and Tyler had several of his friends. As expected, the Canes lost -- by even more than the huge Vegas predicted spread. Still, we had a terrific time --laughing, telling tales, and, well, just being guys. My life is blessedly filled with women --Wifey, the Ds, and even female dogs. But I really savor the time with my brothers sans ladies. And to Wifey's credit, she encourages this. This am I was reading the paper, and Vince called. He bought a new Harley, and was returning from his weekly Sunday ride to South Beach, and would I meet at LOL for breakfast? I would, of course. So now, with full belly, Wifey and I will head to the nursing home, to visit her father. I cracked Vince up with my tale of the drama that visit always entails. When Wifey and I get off the elevator, will it, or won't it? That is, will it smell awful from a recent bowel accident, or not? I guess into every terrific weekend, some poop must fall...

A Man Whose Life Cries Out For a Biography

So Wifey and I took 2 couples out to dinner last night: my former Religion profs Steve and Dan, and their wives Mary and Phyllis. We all met in 1980, when Steve and Dan were young academic Turks, recruited to the U by the then Chair, Jim Ash. The 6 of us drank malbec and caught up on family and UM news. Steve and Mary are now grandparents, and Steve is retiring next year and moving to the D.C. area to be close to his new grandson. And then they told me some sad news: 2 former profs in the Department, Olga Hutchingson, and Jim Ash, had died. Olga was a nice woman --I took Women and Religion with her, and remember her most for a faculty'student softball game I organized, which the baseball team allowed us to play on Mark Light Field. Poor Olga fell and broke her leg -- badly. She spent the whole year on crutches. She left UM for FIU, retired, and died of a heart ailment -- she was in her early 70s. Jim Ash -- now HE was a larger than life character. His life was the type Carl Hiassen talks about when complaining about being a Miami novelist: the stuff that really happens here is far weirder than what a novelist can conjure up. Jim was a Texan -- came to UM and spoke like an old school preacher. He quickly rose to Dean of the college, and instituted some major changes. He convinced the president, Tad Foote, to let the U get smaller and smarter. He instituted Residential Colleges, where faculty would move to dorms with students. Jim left UM to become president of Whittier College -- Nixon's alma mater. Apparently he did well there, too. I ran into him in the lobby of the Bevely Hills Peninsula -- he was there with a gentleman -- and we caught up about the old days. He was getting ready to leave his position to become a venture capitalist with some rich Saudis -- former Whittier students. And so there is the really strange stuff: though Jim was a minister, married to Pat, who got a law degree at UM, and bore 2 daughters, Jim was a closeted gay. He also returned to academics as president of Sierra Nevada College near Reno, and while there was arrested in a motel room with a teenaged fellow -- both doing crystal meth. Jim's life spiraled down from there -- multiple arrests, and life in a halfway shelter. Pat divorced him, and ended up with -- yes -- a woman. The woman was a UM Music professor -- apparently they were lovers while Jim was a big shot in Miami. My friends Barry and Eric remember Jim well. Eric and I went on a bus tour with him after we graduated in '83. We drove to Tampa, Orlando, Jacksonville, and West Palm -- meeting with local honors students to recruit them to the new, smarter UM. Jim would pick out the best restaurants and take our whole group to amazing dinners in each city. This was the first time I visited Bern's Steakhouse in Tampa --Eric seems to remember the bill -- and this was 1983, was over $100 per person. Jim was the main speaker at these events -- and I still remember his preacher talks, about how an education must be viforous and diverse. The trip worked -- UM started getting sharper kids, and still does. I was an honors student in '79 --given a half tuition scholarship. My grades and scores wouldn't even get me into UM these days --and Jim Ash deserves a lot of the credit for that. Instead -- he died a broken, lost man, at 68 -- a bizarre riches to rags story. The 6 of us toasted him last night. He was truly a Readers Digenst Unforgettable Character to me, a young undergraduate. Ah, Miami. It's never boring here...