When I Grow Up I Want To Be Max

So my friend Norman needed eye surgery, and his exotic, foreign wife (from Canada) was in her native land, tending to her aging mother, and Norman needed a ride. I volunteered, and on our way to UM he told me his Dad Max wanted to join us. Se we swooped over to tony Gables Club and fetched Max. The surgery was scheduled for 7:30, but Norman's doc was snowed in his native Baltimore, and wouldn't be arriving until 10:30 or so. So Norman, Max and I toured a bit -- stopping in to see Dr. Barry at the Children's Hospital. They finally took Norman about 10, but we knew it would be a long haul. Now, one might think the prospect of waiting around with an 86 year old retired accountant and real estate investor for 5 staight hours would be a drag. One would be DEAD wrong. It turned into one of the best days I've had in a long while. First, Max was a child in the BRonx, like my parents, before moving to Miami Beach when he was in high school. I dig men of his generation -- he servied in the Navy during WW II -- and then set about the noble task of building a great life for his large family. But more significantly, Max is so wise, and sweet, and, well, COOL. We talked non stop, about Miami history, and raising kids and grand kids and great grandkids. We talked about business, and how you can always make more money by being a jerk, but that the costs of so doing are astronomical. We're both Hurricanes who travel frequently to Gainesville -- for me, to see the Ds, for Max, to attend NUMEROUS graduations of grandkids and their spouses. I asked Max's advice on dealing with a business deal with an old friend that's become difficult -- and he was spot on. Again, the theme was how important it is to be kind, as well as right. And I noticed something else: Max had no bad words for anyone. We talked about a man he knew, and whose daughter is an old acquaintance. Like Max, the man was very succesful -- he owned a landmake seafood restaurant on the Miami River. The man and his kids were angrily estranged. I told Max that this man had exactly the opposite family experience from Max. Max recounted how generous the man was in giving to his shul, but remarked that maybe the fellow was a "bit peculiar." That was as far as he would go... Norman came out of recovery and looked like someone had stuck a needle in his eye. We drove home, as all Norman's sons and siblings and sibling in laws called to check on him. This am, I told Norman how much I owed him --even though it was over him getting poked in the eye. And I reflected on one of Max's sayings: "The poorest man in the world is one who wins $100 million in the lottery, and has no friends or family to spend it on." Sometimes a stick in the eye can have very positive effects.