Freedom Day

So it's July 4th, and I celebrate my many freedoms. I dropped the D2 at MIA last night, thinking they wouldn't make their flights to NYC. All earlier ones were canceled, due to pre Hurrican Arthur T storms in the Tri State area, but theirs, the latest, ended up leaving an hour late. They passed the time in the Admiral's Club, courtest of Dad's AMEX Platinum card...so the wait was fun. I drove back to JMH and fetched Dr. Barry. We headed to Balen's, the local nice restaurant and grill, where the Turkish waitress took care of us. I heard her accent and asked if she was Persian --"close" she answered... Barry and I knocked back a few and compared notes on who is most blessed with his marriage. I guess I win -- mine is 28 years long, almost, while his is a newlywed 23. The examples of why and how blessed we are were varied and fascinating -- almost Toltsoyesque in their happenings... I returned home, and headed to bed. D2 texted at 915 that they were taking off. I went to sleep -- anxious about the Ds rough weather flight, as well as stay in Fun City, and 60s mayor John Lindsay called it during the time of comically high crime and rioting. It's must safer now, of course, but still enough to make a worry wort Dad like me go searching my bathroom doors for the 3 year old Xanax. I wondered whether it would work. It did -- I slept to the almost unheard of, for me, 9:30 am. Wifey was awake with cooled off coffee and the Herald. I consumed both. And then it occurred to me. I hadn't taken a long walk in months! My hips and back were starting to freeze up, not to mention my prodigious belly, so it was time. I saddled up the strange rescue dog, while the 2 spoiled Spaniels looked on, clearly thinking WTF??? Wifey was incredulous -- "Youre walking at 10:30 in the HEAT???" Hey -- it's the day of freedom -- call me a wild man. Off I went. And it was hot, although blissfully cooler under the shade trees that cover about half the route of 1.1 mile. Everything was amazingly green, following the recent rains. The only people out drove lawnmowers or held leafblowers. I waved as I passed, as they thought "Damn gringo rico --he can be inside in the AC. Why does he patronize us?" I did come upon one neighbor -- a handsome young Peruano. His aunt is the ex wife of a lawyer acquaintance -- he told me about her recent alcohol rehab in Lima, and how she was ALWAYS nuts. I had heard she was again with my lawyer friend -- a guy who could be twins with Neil Diamond. The balance of the walk the strange sausage dog hobbled along, tongue wagging so far out I could see its blue spot --evidence there is some Chow dog in her varied genetics. We made it home, and she flopped on the cool floor. I decided to enjoy an activity I never could if I lived in a condo or townhouse development -- I went for a naked swim. My pool is hidden, though it's in the front of the house. The only possible view is from next door, and that's 100 feet away, and through a heavy Travelor's Palm. The new neighbor, a 23 year old with a checkered past, I'm sure has NO interest in seeing my nude corpulence. She already snagged her idiot 50 something lawyer -- and he's in better shape than I am, though short and not as cute. The Spaniels chased lizards as I floated blissfully under the ficus and palm leaves. Our pool is mostly in the shade, so the water never gets hot. It was, especially after my overheated walk, delicious. Tonight Wifey is leaving early for our July 4 dinner in Bay Harbor. It's about a 35 minute drive, which is double her "radius" -- the distance her bad back lets her travel. So I think, if I understand her D Day Invasion-like planning, she will leave for D1's apartment and wait there, to allow for the extended radius. Meanwhile, Norman and Deb and Dave and Maureen will meet here, where, in honor of the 4th, I'll pop open a bottle of French champagne, and we'll toast before heading to fetch Wifey and completing the balance of the epic journey. The best damn NY strip in Miami awaits at the Palm (the best in the country, in my opinion, is at Bern's in Tampa). So a celebration of most that is great in life awaits. I'm glad the Patriots did their number nearly 240 years ago. London broil sucks compared to NY strip.