A Waste Of People

I just finished reading some profiles of the poor people aboard the Malaysian Airlines jet that was shot down. What a tragedy -- what a waste. There were AIDS researchers, and novelists, and rescue pilots, and an amazing array of wonderful people, most of whom are Dutch. The Dutch are, in my opinion, among the finest people there are --beautiful, brilliant, and tolerant. It looks like the Russian separatists mistakenly shot the plane down -- thinking it was a Ukrainian transport. My father's parents are from that part of the world -- a city named Cernovitz -- then part of Romania, and now part of the Ukraine. I'm thankful my grandparents decided to decamp to the US. Meanwhile, closer to home, my 53rd birthday was a great time. We gave Wifey some pills and put her in the back of the SUV, and then fetched D1 and Erica, D1's houseguest, and the daughter of Wifey's best friend Edna. We arrived at Anthony's Runway 84, a place the Sopranos would have liked, and Wifey wobbled inside. Our table had more than 5 seats, and sure enough, Drs. Barry and Eric came in. The Ds called and asked them to join us, and we ate, laughed, and reminisced heartily. It was a terrific time. Eric and I had veal parm -- best in the city. And we shared baked clams, stuffed peppers, and awesome meatballs. One shouldn't begin his 54th year hungry...