Heavy Drinking

My beloved late mother Sunny once remarked to my father in law that he REALLY seemed to be enjoying his meal -- probably Canton's "Special Steak" -- a staple when we all went to dinner. His reply: "Ven I eat, I EAT. Ven I don't eat, I don't eat." And so it is with me and alcohol. I can go weeks without a drink, but when I do, I enjoy getting a bit, well, loose...This happens at social events, and, in particular, Canes tailgate parties. I never drive afterwards, especially after a scare some years ago, following an evening at Capital Grille with Big Daddy G and Jorge the judge. I ran a light in the Gables, and was pulled over. After I gave my license and registration, another Gables squad car arrived. I called my friend Steve the cop, sure I was being taken in. I wasn't drunk, but did have a couple of large martinis. Instead, the nice young cop apologetically said he HAD to give me a ticket for running the light, and I needed to be more careful. I graciously accepted the ticket -- so relieved, and swore off ever putting myself in that situation again. Steve called back -- I told him to stand down -- no need for his help. He called his buddy in the Department, and somehow the speeding ticket got lost, too. It's great to have friends in the right places. Speaking of friends, following the FSU game, where we had an awesome tailgate, even though host Norman was out of town, Dr. Eric casually mentioned that maybe I ought to drink less -- Barry's boys looked up to me, and what example was I setting for them? I adore Eric, but he has a difficult time letting go, though I know he meant well. So, at the next game, I drank not at all, and it was sort of , well, boring. At the party Eric had for Dana, even though they had Stoli for me, I took 2 sips of the toasting champagne -- nothing more. It was a nice time, but not a GREAT time. At last weekend's Fins game, I drank not at all. It was terrific to be with Big Daddy G and his wife and sons, but, well -- football games are much better with a little ethyl alcohol. So I've decided to make an early New Year's resolution -- to drink MORE in '15. Not too often, but at celebratory times, I shall NOT be moderate. Ven I drink, I vill drink! First up -- NYE at Salvatore's with Norman and Deb and Wifey -- with teetotaler Wifey driving. Here's to a great '15. L'Chaim!

Sunday at the Stadium

So Norman gave some Club seats to Dr. Barry, to see his beloved Jersey Jets play the Fins, and Barry asked me if I wished to tag along. By the way, D1 informed us that his medical residents refer to him as "Big Daddy G," which from this point forward will be his name for me, too. Anyway, BDG said if his wife Donna wanted out, I would be in, and I planned to go watch the wacky King Mango Strut in the Grove with visiting Boston friends Sheryl and Mark. But BDG went ahead and bought an extra Club Seat, and I wasn't about to pass up an afternoon spent with my nephews of another brother, Scott and Josh. So I fired up the mid sized Caddy and coasted up to Aventura, to meet at Mo's Bagels. Mo's is great -- co owned by a guy named Mohammed, who figured correctly that using his full name wouldn't sell too much deli in heavily Jewish Aventura. The place is co owned by Paul, a Venezuelan Jew, and the place is always loud and rocking. Yesterday was no exception. I charmed my way to a table even though my "party wasn't all here," and soon BDG, Donna, and large sons Scott and Josh arrived. And they ARE large -- Scott especially so, and now even little brother Josh is well over 6 feet, and SOLID. I hugged him and realized he has the shoulders and arms to play football, though he prefers music and computers... We feasted, and then sat in some traffic to the stadium. It was a hot, sunny afternoon, and the game, though meaningless (both teams finished out of the playoffs) was entertaining -- a former Cane, Lamar Miller, broke off a 97 yard run, and the Jets pulled off a great fake field goal that sealed the game for them. BDG and sons enjoyed it, and Donna enjoyed being with her troop of very large men. It was terrific. They dropped me off at the Mo's lot, and checked out my new whip, as D2 taught me the rappers now call cars. Wifey was enjoying a birthday movie and dinner with some of her friends, and the Ds had a sister night planned -- also a movie, and then dinner in South Miami. Today I'll hit the office for some end of the year paperwork, and also to fetch a new computer D2 ordered -- using AMEX points, happily. The one I bought her lasted through college and 1/2 of her Master's program, and is now slowing down. Meanwhile, D2 got all As again. She only told me when I asked. My girl has simply torn up academics at UF... I got a FaceBook message that a long lost friend, Jeff, wants to come by and visit, while they're in Miami to get on a cruise ship. We were close in college, and then, for reasons still unknown, he cut off contact with me and our group of boys... Anyway, he was one of my groomsmen, and is coming to visit Saturday, which is Wifey and my 28th wedding anniversary. It'll be nice to catch up.

I'd Like to See Both of Us Fall Deeply in Love...

As usual, it's been a lovely time of year in Miami. Dr. Barry met us and the Ds and their boyfriends at Tropical, for Nochebuena para los judios. We feasted on fine food, and drank a bit, and had a memorable funny moment. D1's boyfriend Adam bought Wifey an orchid for her birthday, and D1 placed it for a moment on the welcome podium. The hostess took it and placed it on a table, thinking it was one of the restuarant's. D1 had to go fetch it, explaining to the diners at the now orchid-less table that it was a gift... Afterwards, as we drove home, D2's boyfriend Jonathan wondered aloud whether there was any place to get ice cream on Xmas Eve. There was -- the Farmstore drive through -- open always. We pulled up, and got 2 half gallons, along with chocolate syrup, and I tipped the Latina on duty on Nochebuena. We came home and dove in -- Xmas Day, also known as Wifey's birthday, I awoke and drove to House of Bagels, thinking they might be open. They were, and a line snaked into the parking lot. I bought a dozen, and some cream cheese and nova, and when D2 and Jonathan awoke at the crack of noon, we feasted again. Later, D1 popped over after her shift at Jackson, and we drove to Pembroke Pines to take out my mother in law. Wifey found a Japanese place open, and as we entered D1 recognized it as a former Brickell sushi place, evicted because of the high rents, and relocated to much cheaper Broward...My mother in law remarked that in her 90 years, it was the first time she had been in a Japanese place. We got her chicken teriyaki and vegetable soup --not even bothering to try to explain raw fish -- but we nearly had a fatal incident. They only had green tea, which she didn't like, and nearly expired because of eating without a hot liquid...fortunately she made due with the hot soup, which she drank from a cup. I gave her some saki, for the comic effect I knew it would produce when she made a disguested face. It worked like a charm. We took her home, and realized that, like my mother when she turned 90, the decline was in. Her A/C was broken, and she never even knew. The place smelled musty. The floors, wet with condensation, were slick. She produced some thawed out, sugar free bobka, which the Ds knew she'd insist they eat. When her back was turned, we snuck out and tossed it into the bushes. As my mother in law puttered, we speculated on the ducks finding the stuff, and getting the diarhea sugar free, old cake causes, causing US to laugh uproariously at the mental picture of these ducks with the runs desparately waddling toward the lake... So we had some laughs, even upon the substrate of sad aging... Yesterday my nephew of another brother Scott turned 18, and decided to make a pilgrimmage to his favorite restaurant, LOL. Donna called and she, brother Josh, and friend Tyler stopped by. We reminisced about Scott's birth and bris, the latter being an occasion that, years later, I discovered nearly caused D2's first fainting episode. Barry had given me the honor of holding Scott when the mohel did the cut. D2, nearly 5, wandered into the bedroom in search of her father -- me. I guess I never explained what really happens at a bris, and when she spied some blood, nearly passed out. Scott is no worse for the wear, as he's grown into quite a strapping young man. And his little brother is now over six feet, as well. They left for home, and Wifey and I napped in the gray afternoon... Today, more of the olds...we're headed to MJH to visit my father in law, whose brother Lou is visiting as well. Lou and his wife Sally are bringing Wifey's cousin Sandy, his wife, and 3 kids. We'll bring some dessert and sit in the former gazebo. Mirta called last night and said she'd be there, too, visiting Edna's Dad. So it ought to be quite the party, though I plan to cut it short to be able to watch the Canes play in their crappy bowl game, in the afternoon. Yes, we move towards a new year, which will bring some expected and unexpected events. I'm looking forward to all of them...

Ho Ho Hoachhh ptooey

And so it is again this year: people hang colored lights on their houses and unconsenting shrubbery, bring evergreen trees (some made of crappy plastic) into their living rooms, and gather to eat festive meals -- all in honor of the birth of one person: Wifey! Yes, Wifey's birthday is December 25th, and I know for several of us, she is our own personal savior... D2 made it home safely from Gville, adorable Bo the special needs Spaniel in tow. D1 dropped her spoiled Spaniel here, and we've been enjoying a much more bustling house. I worked some today -- helping Stu and John get out some end of the year correspondence -- to hopefully bring all some more shekels in 2015. Tonight we're heading to Tropical Chinese -- the Ds, boyfriends, maybe Dr. Barry, if he can get away from the PICU for a few hours, Wifey, and me. It'll be the 5th year in a row for Noche Buena para los Judios, or Christmas Eve for the Jews. The food is great, and we always see folks from the 'hood -- Tropical is THE Chinese place for South Miami Dade. We'll toast Wifey's birthday, although the number shall not be spoken, under strict orders from the birthday girl. Tomorrow, the actual Wifey Birthday, we'll fetch D1 after work (she is working this Christmas) and then head to Pembroke Pines, so Wifey can visit with her mother. I think Wifey found a Japanese restaurant in the Pines where we can all meet. It's really a terrific time of the year. Another blessed cool front is due in, and if all goes to plan, I will light a fire tomorrow night in the fire pit, and Wifey and I can toast her birthday with some steaming hot herbal tea. I plan to mostly hang around during the week -- D2 is here -- and then comes New Year's Eve. We have plans to hit Salvatore, the Italian place we love, with Norman and Deb, and then maybe a party at my old high school friend Kenny's house -- although many of the guests will be his wife's colleagues -- law school professors. If there's a group of professionals I don't really dig, it's law school professors -- but many of these folks are ok... And so 2014 slouches to a close. It'll now be two years, come April, that I've been an orphan. In that regard, my sister of another mother Mirta called yesterday -- to tell me she's starting a business for her elder care activities -- and calling it "Sunny Companions" after my mother. She really brightened my day with that news. So happy birthday, Wifey! We all love and savor you -- wrecked cars and all. And Merry Wifey's Birthday to all!

I Defy You to Find a Single Cloud In This Morning's Impossibly Blue Sky

It was a crisp 59 at 7 this am, and after I fed her, I swear the strange rescue dog spoke to me. I simply opened the door to let her out, but she stayed and pleased me to take her for a walk. It was simply too gorgeous to be confined to our yard, she made me understand. So off we went, after noticing the Herald hadn't been delivered. I've been a loyal subscriber for over 30 years, and I think in that time, over the 6 different addresses we've had, maybe the paper was late or missing a total of 10 times. In the past year, I've already hit that total. I think maybe the Herald wants to do away with print versions -- online is cheaper and easier -- or maybe the latest guy just isn't up to the job of getting up so early. Anyway, Vienna and I set off. She was so happy to be walking in the chill air -- I guess fur coats are made for cooler weather than we usually have here. All of our dogs seemed to perk up on cold mornings -- except maybe my Ds two spoiled Spaniels -- warm works well for them. Anyway, I soon came upon Irv, my spry 90 something neighbor, waiting at his curb. He was annoyed that there was no Herald as well -- like me he's a news addict. But it was lucky there was a late delivery -- IRv and I caught up on the state of our beloved Canes, and the city in general. He told me he started at the U in '46, and has been a "Golden Cane" since the program started. Irv is an outlier among the very old -- sharp as a tack, and still enjoying his life. I joked that the key is a hot young wife -- Kay is probably 20 years younger than he is -- and he said I may be right. As we chatted, the old Buick rumbled up, and the carrier handed Irv his paper --with a Spanish accented "sorry I'm late." The strange dog and I said goodbye, and Go Canes, and continued on. Around the bend she started to whimper -- she spotted a Cavalier Spaniel just like her sister Madeleine -- but this one spoke Spanish -- Peca -- which means freckle. Her owner/Dad Dan was walking her, and he and I caught up as well. Dan is a Mexican Jew, and his best childhood friend, Jose, also lives in our 'hood -- he's a prominent neurologist and professor at the U. Dan is a real estate developer, and his business is lately booming. We talked about our kids -- his son goes to Cornell, and his daughter is in high school, and he shared excitedly that his wife's father is taking the whole family to Argentina for an awesome trip. Monica, his wife, has sisters, and her Dad is paying full fare for 20 people -- great meals in Buenos Aires (Airees, Wifey pronounces it) and a trip to Patagonia. I told him Argentina is the one place in South America I want to visit. As we chatted, Bailey the pug ambled over to join our little group. Bill, her owner, was in tow. Bill is an Irish guy from Boston, whose wife is an international businesswoman, and so the talk turned to Argentina. Bill is headed to Colorado with his kids, but home in time for New Years Eve, so he can "fall asleep in his own bed at midnight." We soon parted, and the strnange sausage rescue dog led me home. The sky was surreally beautiful. I'm glad I listened this am to the dog.

The 352

It's funny -- sometimes when you visit a place when you're young, you can't imagine you'll be coming back many, many times. So it has been with Gainesville. I first visited in, I guess 1981. Some friends from college wanted to visit their UF student friends, and I tagged along. It was Spring, and we watched our baseball Canes beat the baseball Gators. We slept on the floor of my friend Mark's friend Debbie, and went to a country and western bar as well as Skeeters, a legendary 24 hour diner, long closed. Apparently I also spent an evening with my high school friend Sheila. We went out, talked of LI, and drank beer. When I became her Facebook friend last year, I told her I forgot any Levittowners went to UF for college. She reminded me of our evening together, and I felt quite senile for forgetting... After my first trip, I went up again for some football games, and also on an academic spy mission. The director of our Honors Program, Jim Ash, had requested UF and FSU's Honors Programs to give him info about their course offerings. They refused, for some silly reason, so Ash deputized me to make believe I wanted to transfer to each of the schools, and fly up on a mission to get their classes. It worked! I never transferred to either school, of course... Anyway, I would have figured I was done with visits other than football games. Then I tried a 2 week case with my old boss Frank, and ate in every single decent restaurant there was -- 3 times! OK -- after that trial, about, I guess 1990, that would be it. No it would not. Both Ds would end up going to college there, and in D2's case, getting a Master's degree as well. So this is now my ninth consecutinve year of multiple trips to Gainesville! I just booked a one way flight home in early January, and a one night hotel stay. D2 is driving down next week, after her boyfriend graduates with his MS, and then spends 2 weeks before returning for D2's final semester. I told her I'd drive with her. I really, really enjoy the long car ride with the Ds. Wifey misses out -- her back has prevented her from doing this for years -- but I savor it. We'll leave January 4 -- drive up, move D2 into her subleased apartment, and then have a final semester kickoff dinner. I'll fly back on the commuter jet the next day -- there used to be 2 daily flights, but it's down to one now. And if all goes well, we'll be there in May for D2's graduation. Maybe that will be it for Gville travel for awhile...you never know. In hindsight, it would have been nice if the kids chose college in Asheville, or Key West...

Guardian No More

So it's been just over a year since I was trained and certified to be a Guardian Ad Litem. I never could stand bureaucracy, and this program has one that would make the Byzantines jealous. At one point, on a conference call, nine paid "professionals"prattled on for a solid hour, with none of them doing a thing for the ward. When I pointed this out -- they suggested that I do a site visit!!!! Anyway, my ward turned 17 a few months ago, and I committed to staying on until she was 18. She had a baby a few months ago, and my supervisor in the program asked me to be the baby's GAL as well. I declined -- first, it was clear to me there was a clear conflict -- I was advocating for the teen mother, and what would happen if, for example, she wanted to keep the baby, but it wasn't in the baby's best interest? Plus, I don't relate to infants, and didn't wish to obligate myself for another 18 years. No, I told my handler, as I call him -- I'll stay in my volunteer role for the teen Mom, and you can get someone to be GAL for the baby. Not so fast! The program decided to show me for being uppity -- they convinced the judge that my ward no longer needed a GAL, but her baby did, so I was "discharged." The good news is that my severance package was 10 times my salary -- and 10 times zero is zero, so I have nothing to report to the government as income. The bad news is that my ward could surely have benefitted from my counsel for another 10 months or so, and I told her in a text she was free to seek my advice if she wished. She won't. I made clear to her my thoughts about her life -- keep grades up, stay focused, and get a scholarship to an Ivy League college. Instead, she failed most classes and got pregnant at 16. As Tony S says, what are ya gonna do? My brother of another mother Paul has far more patience than I do with the program. He continues to volunteer avidly, and has several GAL kids as clients -- a few of whom are past 18 and who he still mentors. He refuses to let the absurdity of the program bog him down -- choosing instead to simply refuse to follow the ridiculous rules, and getting the state monkeys to do his required reports for him. I applaud him, and admire him for this service. But as John Fogarty sang, It ain't me." So I wish my ward well, and hope somehow she uses her superior intelligence for greatness -- for herself, her baby, and her community. And maybe the year I spent with her will have some result. I'm now free of the program, and truth be told, rather happy about it.

90 Year Old Birthday

So Edna treated us all to a great dinner at Christy's -- Wifey, D1, her husband Marc, and 2 daughters Lauren and Erica. Our favorite Gables spot was packed, and we drank and laughed -- especially savoring how D1 and Edna's girls chatted like sisters. I tried to include D2 via FaceTime (tm), but the dim lighting made it tough. Afterwards we walked next door, where Erica's best friend Emerald lives. Emerald came to UM Law, and met her husband Aaron there, and the two now have a baby boy and bull dog...The men drank single malt and watched FSU beat Tech, while the ladies all talked intensely about the love lives of Edna's daughters -- do Moms know best? Anyway, Sunday we all met again at Miami Jewish, for Edna's Dad's 90th. Edna brought in pizza from Mario The Baker, and I decided to suspend my low carb diet for the day. Wifey's parents were wheeled over, and we gathered in the former gazebo, my Mom's favorite spot during the last 11 months of her life. The weather was glorious, and Edna's father was in great spirits. His beautiful granddaughters were there -- he hadn't seen them in quite awhile -- and even his wife's dour moor didn't seem to dampen his. My sister of another mother Mirta came by -- Wifey and Edna have hired her for weekly visits to their fathers -- and she delighted in catching up with D1 and Edna. Edna's father was funny -- he wished, he said, to attend MY 90th birthday party, as well. I guess you never know... The sunlight through the ancient trees dimmed, and Stephen and Marcia, who drive my mother in law from Broward, said their goodbyes as the returned my father in law to his room, and we took the leftover food up to Edna's parents' floor. Marc and his stepdaughters left for MIA, and Wifey and Edna and I for home --Edna is staying a few more days, to decompress, and spend quality time with her bff Wifey... Those of our younger generation all agreed we don't wish to be 90. We have seen the future, and don't care for it -- at least extreme aging. I shared with Edna the lesson of the frog -- put a frog in boiling water and he hops out, but put him in cold water and heat it to boiling and he boils to death. Subtle changes for frogs, like humans, are tougher to detect than abrupt ones. So as we go from 50s, to 60s, to 70s, we seem to accept the gradual decline and decripitude -- until we make late 80s and 90 and have adapted. I guess time will tell, but for Edna's father, marking the beginning of his 91st year on the planet was a pleasant afternoon.

Guest Season

Wifey and I have always enjoyed hosting house guests, even when we had a one bedroom apartment. Typically, high season for guests is T Day through New Years, and we're at the height of it now. Back when we lived in Les Chalet, a place whose name was classier than it was, our living room would often be littered with northerners here to escape the cold. We'd usually host New Years Eve parties, and having overnihght guests made it more festive. I remember one year -- my high school friends Kenny, Eric, and Jeannie stayed, along with Kenny's beautiful in a spooky way Albanian girlfriend. We attended a NYE party hosted by Mark and Steve, two brothers who allowed their father Norman, a donut shop owner, to realize his dream of saying "My son the lawyer, and my son the doctor." It was a great party, but my friend Jeff and I wandered over to some law school mates' apartment, and lost track of the time. This was pre cell phone. Wifey took my friends home, and when I showed around 3 am, was MIGHTY angry. She had every right to be, and I feel bad about that night to this day... When we bought our first house, a 1400 square foot place in Kendall, our tradition continued -- hosting my sisters and their families when we got married, and many friends thereafter. The year after we got married, my high school friend Eric stayed, as well as Wifey's cousin Sandy and his wife Felicity. Elizabeth was married to a rock and roll singer, and at the NYE party he took out his Stratocaster and played for us. It was one awesome, kick ass party, and Wifey and I hosted. Now, at our oversized house, the tradition continues. This year Elizabeth was back for TDay, and this weekend we have Edna, Marc, and Edna's awesome daughters. Last night we hosted a sushi party, and D1 brought her new boyfriend. We drank vodka and wine, and ate, and laughed. It was a terrific night, sitting around out dining room table, trading tales of old and new. D1 and her man left, taking Lauren with them. Lauren was in search of Art Basel fun, and will stay here tonight, along with her sister Erica. Edna and Marc are hosting us all at Christy's -- our favorite Gables restaurant. Tomorrow there's a 90th birthday party for Edna's father, and Mirta, my sister of another mother, is joining us all. Mirta and I met for coffee the other afternoon, and we compared notes about thus hosting thing. Mirta, like us, always has a son or friend or grandchild or two, living with her. She savors it, as we do. She told me about a friend of hers who keeps a lovely house, and never lets anyone stay over, for fear of damaging her pretty knickknacks. Mirta laughed at the thought -- collectibles over grandkids! Edna and family are leaving tomorrow, for Atlanta and, in Lauren's case, NYC. Our next registered guests are Sheryl and HER man Mark, coming from Boston. They'll help us ring in 2015. It's good to have people in our house...