So the Miami Summer's Not So Bad

Wow --what a night for us empty nesters last night. After a Saturday of hard core inactivity, as our Ds enjoyed sister bonding on Brickell, Wifey and I squeezed into the small Caddy and drove to the Grove to fetch our friend Diane and her fiance John. Those two are happily living on South Bayshore -- working part time for the US government and a major construction company, and taking turns with visiting kids and grandkids... They wanted to reciprocate our treating them to Christy's a few weeks past, and took us to Il Gabbiano, which is Italian for "extremely expensive but truly worth it food." John knew the owner, and the fellow greeted us. John asked about his girlfriend, a reporter for ESPN Latino, and, I'm guessing, not an appearance challenged young lady. "No," he replied in his great Italian accent, "I switched channels." I loved that line... We sat outside, and the breeze off Biscayne Bay was awesome. Our waiter came -- handsome young fellow from Sardinia -- and charmed all of us as he reeled off, by memory, the many specials. He looked like a young Giancarlo Gianinni, and Wifey and I recounted the plot of "Swept Away" to Diane and John. We shared prawns, and lumps of some of the best cheeses of all times. My no carb diet laughably took a vacation, as the bruschetta and breads were passed. Diane had red wine, John some G and Ts, and I had some Stoli martinis. Wifey ordered, shockingly, the salmon. She almost always gets that. The three of us had osso bucco, and it was the best I ever had -- truly butter-like meat. When we left, the place was packed, and we ran into an old neighbor at the car valet. I guess the awesome food and drinks made me feeling a bit jaunty, and I took Wifey and John and Diane to Little Havana -- to the Ball and Chain. It's a club originally opened in the 30s -- Louis Armstrong and Billie Holiday played there -- and then closed in the 60s when the 'hood changed from Shenandoah -- working class Jewish -- to Little Havana. Last year a local young man named Zach Bush bought it, and after an awesome renovation, opened. With beloved Tobacco Road closing, B and C has become the new live music place. We entered and it was crowded, and a fine jazz quintet was playing. Diane befriended a young Uruguayan hedge fund guy celebrating his birthday with bottles of champagne and bottles of fine Scotch, and got him to share some seats with her and John, in front of the band shell outside. Wifey and I listened to "Summertime" and "Fly Me to the Moon." A Cuban guy, well dressed, came up to me and remarked how awesome the players were, and how young. I was thinking the same thing -- they looked like UM undergrads. They probably were... At 10 we went outside. Tito Puente, Jr, was setting up, and began to play with his salseros. The place began to rock. People salsaed in front of the stage -- including a young dancer wearing a New Orleans style mask, and a trim young fellow. The women were absurdly gorgeous. And Puente, Jr, got them all moving. He invited a young singer onstage -- wearing a silk Cuban flag, and she sang like Celia Cruz. I think she might have been a relative, although I seem to recall the great Azuca! Queen never had kids. Regardless, she was awesome -- playing off the band's drums. I felt a bit like Michael Corleone in II, at New Year's Eve in Havana. Happily, I didn't learn of my brother Fredo's betrayal... When we left, the club was PACKED. And the crowd was deligtfully mixed -- 20s kids, and plenty of gray hair and Latinas of a certain age packed into too tight outfits... We'll be going back. As I swayed in the evening light, and it wasn't too hot, I realized, as I always do, I don't want to live anywhere else. Though if Tito, Jr asks me to go on tour, I'd probably say Si!