Making me NERVOUS

May my father in law rest in peace.  He was an unusual man, to say the least.  But when his wife or daughter got to him, he cut them off with a loud "You are getting me NERVOUS!"  It always worked -- my mother in law and Wifey backed off, and gave the man his space.

I'm much more chill than he was -- usually.  But as I age, and become more short tempered and crochety, I see the wisdom in his ways.  You have to have respect -- and the way I treat my family, well, I certainly earned it.

Wifey wants to move.  She says the house is too big, and she wants a change.  She wants to live in an area where you can walk to stuff -- like the market, and shops, and coffee.

She found a townhouse for sale in the Gables, near the Biltmore, and said she wanted to see it.  I told her to make sure they knew we have a buyer's agent -- this way a friend of ours gets half of any commission.  But I told Wifey I wasn't ready to move.

Still, she called our friend Allison, who is a realtor, and made an appointment to go look at the place today.  They were to meet at 1:15.  The place seemed nice enough -- Jeb Bush lives on the same street, it's a 3000 foot townhouse, and a half mile walk to Downtown Gables.  Because of its location, the asking price was $1.3M.  Location, location, location...

So I decided to, as my dear friend Paul would say, truly get in touch with my feelings about moving.

I had a lot of physical work to do today at the house -- taking down the storm panels, and putting them away in the garage.  I worked, and lifted, and took breaks.

I also had to empty a fountain at the front of the house -- it was green with blown in leaves.  That required about 50 buckets lifted down the front stairs.

And I sat -- for quite awhile, on the porch, or loggio as the builder of the house calls it.

I came to a strong conclusion:  I absolutely LOVE the house, and do not wish to move.

When I first saw this place, in December of 2000, it was house love at first sight.  The yellow house set against the green trees reminded me of Hemingway's place in Key West.  I want to be a bit like Ernest Hemingway.

Each time the front gates open, I also feel a bit like Jay Gatsby.  I sit at my own pond (now bereft of fish -- but that will change after the landscaper completes her cleanup.

I truly found my sanctuary.  I told Wifey.  She was sad -- and had me cancel the appointment with Allison.

If we're blessed with grandkids, I have a strong feeling my desire to be closer to them will trump my love of our house.  I want to be that grandpa who sees his grandkids several times per week, at least.  But that's in the future.

For now -- we'll get the place cleaned up.  We also have some work to do -- the house is now 20 years old and has never been painted.  That's a major undertaking given all the area, and walls, and towers near the pool.

So we're staying.  Wifey texted the Ds and Edna a picture from the movie Gray Gardens -- she sees herself stuck in an aging, decaying house.

But my absolute love of where we live for now outweighs her desire "for a change."

I plan to spent tomorrow, Yom Kippur, sitting around this place and reflecting and repenting.

But this is where I plan to stay, Big Man willing...

Sadness in the Neighborhood

Mortals trying to understand the logic, if that's what it is, of the Big Man, are on a fools' errand.  Trying to figure out why sometimes leaves one bereft.  Such is the latest...

Danny and Monica moved into our 'hood a few years after we did.  They're Mexican Jews, and grew up in Mexico City with another neighbor, Jose, who is a neurologist at the UM Med School.

During Halloween of '08, D1 made a surprise visit home from UF, and gave out candy to the trick or treaters.   Monica and Danny and their two kids came by, along with a pretty little dog named Peca, which is Spanish for freckle.  D1 fell in love, and pledged to get a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.  She did, and Madeleine has been a joyful part of the family since.  Years later, a friend called Wifey and said there was another Cavalier up for adoption at Pet Smart.  Wifey flew over, and brought home Bo, which became D2's little guy.  Bo is special needs, and stayed with us when D2 moved to NYC.  But the point is, Danny and Monica are the happy reason my house is infested with Spaniels...

Their oldest boy turned out to be a superstar.  He was accepted at Cornell, as a Chemistry major, and soared there.  After his junior year, he interned at a food company, and they immediately offered him a job upon his graduation.  All seemed terrific.  But then he got sick -- over that summer.

Turned out he had a very rare form of cancer -- in his heart.  His parents took him to Boston and Houston for treatment.  He fought for two years.

A few months ago, I ran into Dr. Jose at a store and asked after Alex.  Jose turned his eyes downward.  I knew never to ask again.

Miami is a very small town-big city.  When I leased Wifey's Lexus, I noticed the saleswoman's last name matched Danny's.  Sure enough -- she was his brother's ex wife -- still very close with the family.  When I leased a second Lexus, in June, I asked about her nephew.  Nothing good to report, Patti said -- but he was enrolled in an experimental treatment protocol.

Not unexpectedly, I guess, but still shockingly, Alex died on Sunday.  His funeral was yesterday.  Wifey and I plan to make a shiva call tonight.

We know there are really no comforting words.  I plan to just be there, and listen, if called upon to do do.  These wonderful people, who do everything for their kids, as we do, have suffered the worst of all losses.  Again -- there's now why.  It just is.

Thankfully, they have another child -- a girl who attends college in state.  I know she will bring meaning to these nice people.

Meanwhile, the big day is coming for we Jews -- tomorrow night.  Yom Kippur -- the Day of Atonement.

I'm skipping services this year, as I have for the past years.  I plan to fast, though.  I think it's good for the soul to go without the comfort of food -- at least one day per year.

I plan to just sit around Saturday -- and reflect.  D1 and S1 have invited us to a break the fast in Aventura, with S1's family.  Wifey and I have politely declined -- September has been quite the month -- and we choose to cruise into October quietly.

But as I sit, and reflect, our neighbors will be heavy in my heart.  I just hope the Big Man brings them peace -- after this most terrible of trials.

One Thing Leads to Another

...is the Fixx earworm I've had all morning.  I remember when it came out -- I was in college, and we'd dance to it at parties in Building 22.  Most of the music at the getties was The Ramones...

So I thought about the office yesterday, but didn't quite make it in.  I got a hold of one of my partners, on his way there at the crack of one pm, and we handled some stuff.

Wifey had made plans to meet her cousin Mark and his wife Susan for lunch.  They're staying in Plantation, and asked for a half way meet, so I picked Dragonfly in Doral.  I've always liked Mark and Susan -- Mark is my father in law's brother Lou's son.  He was born in Miami to his Holocaust Survivor parents, but moved to Brooklyn at a very young age.  He has a four year younger brother Sandy, who lives in Weston.  We hoped Sandy would join us, but he couldn't make it.

We caught up nicely on our lives.  They have three sons -- one married last year and lives in Queens.  Another boy lives in the Lower East Side, and the third moved to LA.  Susan, like Wifey, very much wants to move out of their large Syosset, LI house.  Mark, like me, is dragging his feet.  He's a musician and just taught himself the pedal steel guitar, and worries about neighbors in a condo.

Mark's parents Sally and Lou are aging in place in their Broward condo. Lou is 94, and still mostly intact, but he never wants to leave his apartment.  Sally is 84 and stuck with her forever husband.  Sandy, the local son, gets most of the burden -- Mark comes just twice per year.  It always seems to go that way -- unequal responsibility for the aging folks.  But Mark and Sandy seem to make it work.

Our landscaper told us she'd start our huge cleanup job on October 10, so our yard will remain the set of "Jumangi" for awhile longer.  Wifey asked me if there was a reason I hadn't yet removed the non accordion panels which darken our breakfast "knock," as my mother in law calls it.  I told her there was -- my laziness.  I'll get to them sooner than later.

I DID start organizing my garage.  D1 and S1 got a bunch of wedding gifts.  Many will be returned, and some kept for when they move to a house.  They're smart -- they avoid clutter.  So I have the boxes stacked in two large piles -- still room for a vehicle.  If we do get a flooding storm, though, there'll be some wet Waterford and other tchokes...

Today I WILL return to the office -- some strategy meetings with partner John.  It'd be nice to earn a few shekels to make up for storm losses.  All told, I figure the thing will cost me $15-20K, between the long hotel stays, trip to Atlanta, A/C and roof repair, replacement of pond fish, and of course the huge landscape cleanup.

Still, I take the long view.  Wifey and I learned that our marriage can survive about 1.5 hours without air conditioning...so if we stayed even one night in our electric-less house, the dissolution of marriage that would have resulted would have cost far more than that.

Luckily, that was one thing that didn't lead to another.

First World Recovery Problems

So the owner of Clearwater Pools, our long time service company, saw the pix of our pool post Irma, and told me it was more than matter of chlorine shocking and clean up.  We needed to drain the thing, and clean it, and then refill and "start over."

Thursday a subcontractor came by, a nice, portly young man named Brian, and placed a pump in the now swampy mess.  He said it would take 4-5 hours to drain, and I needed to unplug the pump when it ran dry.  It took 9 hours -- our pool is VERY deep -- close to 8 feet on one end.

Yesterday am Brian came by, and cleaned out the prodigious amounts of leaves and branches, and then showed me what I sort of suspected -- the finish was coming off.  The pool was put in 20 years ago, and the composite finishes last 10-15.  But we agreed to go ahead and refill the pool anyway -- if they did the refinishing while the pool area was still a mess, which it will be for another 2-3 weeks, it will result in a bad surface.  So Brian and his man cleaned it, and set out my garden hose for the re-fill.  I started filling at about noon -- 23 hours later, it has another half to go.  As I said, the thing is DEEP.

Meanwhile, there was, of course, drama on the landscape front.  My friend from Broward referred a fellow for the job.  He said it was too big -- it required heavy equipment, especially to remove a huge ficus that fell across my pond.  He sent his brother in law Omar.  Omar quoted me $6K.  I agreed -- he was to start next Wednesday.

But Wifey still wanted a quote from Sara -- the person who put in all the landscaping, and is a true artist.  We figured her quote would be absurdly high.  Not so fast.  She came in at $4200, and said she'd try to save some of the trees.  Only problem was -- we needed to wait three weeks for the job, which was not really a problem for the non OCD when it comes to house stuff, Wifey and me.

I had my Broward friend call Omar to tell him thanks but no thanks.  Yesterday am, his English speaking nephew called.  My next day cancellation, he said, had cost Omar work.  I should still pay. I told the nephew no dice -- he was already clearly trying to gouge me, and post Irma I couldn't imagine any tree removal guy couldn't get more work than he could handle.  But, I said --  my friend would speak to him.

She did, and called that it was resolved.  Omar told her he didn't want money from me -- just wanted to make me feel bad for cancelling.  Ha. As if.  I spend many hours with potential clients, and sometimes don't get the case.  It goes, as Arthur Miller wrote, with the territory.

So for now, the pool if filling, and the landscapers are due.  I also called in my small roof repair request -- 4 cracked tiles -- and called the accordion shutter company to add a few more.  Some of the panels I have to put on are getting a bit too tough for this now mid 50s homeowner...

Wifey really, really wants to move and downsize.  The problem is, places we like -- Gables or Grove, are so expensive, that I'll have to pay what my current house costs for a place half the size.  For now, we stay.

Meanwhile, life in the First World goes on.  Maria and Norman, tailgate hosts extraordinaire, considered not having a party for yesterday's game.  But they pressed on.  Mirta came by, and off we went to the stadium.

It was awesome.  I saw my dear brothers and sisters, and we ate, and drank a bit, and the Canes started slow but came on big -- they might move into the Top 10 this week.

We laughed a lot, and finally got to debrief about D1's Big, Fat, Colombian wedding.  Everyone said it was the best they had ever attended -- the dancing, the food, the love.  When the photos from the crew from Jacksonville come in, I look forward to a lovely night of reliving it.

Today the couch calls to me.  The Fins play at 1.  Then we have to visit the ancient suegra, and then meet Kenny and Joelle for dinner in the Gables.

Fall is here.  Storms are leaving us alone.  It's a nice time -- First World Problems are the best kind to have.

Howard and the Rabbi

So out of respect to my Tribe, I stayed out of the office yesterday, and out of the fact that I don't get any feelings of connection, I stayed out of Shul.  This has been my pattern the past few years.

I used to work on RH, until a fellow named Ronnie set me straight.  He was married to Wifey's co-worker -- an Ecuadorian Jew.  I remember the conversation distinctly -- it was in our first house, on SW 125 Terrace, in 1987.  Ronnie was a stockbroker -- in fact, the first we ever used.  The High Holidays were coming up, and I told Ronnie I wasn't religious, and was planning to be in the office.  "David -- don't do it.  It's disrespectful -- especially in your case -- a son in law of Survivors.  Don't go to Temple, if you choose, but stay home out of respect for who you are."  His words resonated with me -- I never worked on a RH or YK again.

I tried going to shul, with my friend Rabbi Yossi, but just felt un connected there.  So I go to my pond, and toss my sins in (this year the pond looks like a perfect sin repository, with all the dead trees and leaves and fish carcasses) and on YK fast and maybe catch a service online.

So I went to do some errands yesterday, along with getting our house back to normal.  Brian, a subcontracted pool guy, set up a pump to drain our pool.  It needed a full nine hours to drain -- I followed instructions and pulled the plug when it was nearly dry.  Brian will be back today to clean out the debris, chlorine wash the pool, and begin refilling it.

Danny the cheerful A/C guy came, and replaced the burned out compressor motor.  We joked about what jerks people are -- as he is still in emergency mode, a client called for a "regular service."  Danny politely told her it would have to wait.

I visited Leon's Liquors, my usual place, to get supplies for today's tailgate party.  Howard, Leon's son, is now the owner, and I followed him from the West Miami store to his little corner of Vintage Liquors in Sunniland.  He gives me a 10% discount, and bills me.

I joked with Howard about not being in shul.  And he told me that he was a member for many years, of a now defunct congregation, where a woman rabbi I'll call Jamie, since that's her name, took over.  Howard always suspected she was all show, and little substance, and sure enough, there came a time when Howard and his wife sought comfort -- his wife had a kidney transplant.  The female Rabbi and the "sisterhood" couldn't be bothered --Howard apparently wasn't a big enough macher.  After that, Howard quit.

I shared with him my tale about a Rabbi I call Mark Kram, since that's his name, and how he abandoned Wifey and I a week before our wedding for a free trip to Israel -- a move that poisoned us on organized shuls for many years.

So I bought my booze and we two apostates wished each other a sweet and healthy new year -- in a Sunniland liquor store.

Of course, my friend Yossi texted me about attending.  I replied that I thought my contribution for D1's wedding bought me years of indulgences.

Worse -- Friday night is erev YK.  If I was going to any service, it would be that one -- Kol Nidre.  But, alas, the Canes play at 7:30.  Maybe Tivo is the answer.  I wonder if Yossi will videotape Kol Nidre...

First Day of Fall and The Sunny Disposition

So Fall begins today, and I hope it brings a cessation of storm season.  Poor bastards in Puerto Rico -- give us nothing to complain about.

Still, Irma heaps annoyances on us.  We came home from an exquisite RH dinner at our new in law's house, to an AC whine.  Sure enough, one of our compressors had blown a motor.  Danny called yesterday, saying he'd get a part and be by today.  In the mean time, we put fans at the border of cool and hot, and blew air to our family room.  The dogs enjoyed the breezes.

Then, around noon, the power went out again.  I checked the FPL site, and sure enough, a main line had gone -- 543 houses affected.  They said they'd restore service by end of day -- which is FPL corporate speak for "whenever."

Also, I hired a crew to remove the fallen trees.  I already paid $1200 for driveway clearing -- the balance will be $6K.  And all my koi are dead.  And, and...

Meanwhile, Paul called, and we chatted.  He noted my positive attitude and sunny disposition about the entire affair.  He gave a dig about how I'm used to living in dirty, disorganized quarters on account of my wife not being a housekeeper, but the main message was positive.  I keep happy, usually despite all annoyances.

I inherited the quality from my Mom. Even in her final months, at a nursing home, she kept up her positive disposition.  I clearly remember our visits.  I'd wheel her outside, she'd feel the sun on her arms, and say "Thank you Mother Nature!" for how good it felt.

We'd go to our spot, a gazebo set among ancient trees at Miami Jewish, and I'd buy us ice creams from the vending machine.  As she ate her chipwich, she'd positively squeal like a child -- how delicious it was.

Mercifully, she was only in some pain and discomfort for the final few days -- her breathing had become labored, and it took a day for hospice to take over and keep her on pain meds.

But until then -- it was all positive.

As I told Paul, it was just my nature as well.  I just didn't see the point about cursing all the darkness.  Hell -- I have to go out today and buy some booze for tomorrow's tailgate party!  My sister of another mister Mirta will be at our house at noon, and we'll cruise to Joe Robbie to be with my brothers and sisters of Canes ball.

How can I be down?

So welcome, Autumn.  Here's to cooler temps, faster than usual.  Go Canes!  Go life!

From Warm to Hot

So last night was our first Rosh Hashonah with D1's new in laws.  It was lovely.  They are the warmest people -- we gathered around the table in their Aventura condo, on the 31st floor overlooking the Bay.  It was our first Sephardic RH dinner -- they do a few things a bit different -- and there is always rice.

D1's suegro led the prayers, over the different RH foods.  He blessed his three sons, and had me bless D1.  Vera, S1's sister in law, got blessed by her suegra, Jackie.

They aren't particularly religious, but they do follow tradition more than our family does.  S1's younger brother Alan, who has a USC Film School degree, plans to work today.  I think only S1's parents are going to shul, though S1 may join them.  He told me he is so thankful to have married our daughter, he may just make a visit.

The conversation was lively -- current events, being Jewish in South America versus North America -- Trump.  Of course, we all compared tales of Hurricane Irma, but we were kept in context by Jackie telling us she had visited Mexico City and left a day before their devastating earthquake.

As we left, D1 thanked her suegra for the day.  Turns out she had a client up in Aventura, and rather than go back to Midtown, had spent the whole afternoon with her new Mom -- napping and helping prepare for the dinner.  Our beloved D1 truly has a new, additional home.

On the way home, Wifey texted with D2, who was returning from another RH dinner with her man Jonathan.  We told her we had a great evening -- but not awesome, because D2 needed to have been present.  I hope she is -- sooner than later.  She already booked her flights home for T Day.  I was going to host everyone in a restaurant, like I have for the last many years, but S1's brother and sister in law have moved into a lovely new house in Morningside -- and they're hosting.

I told Bob I'd bring the wine and spirits.  He graciously accepted.

We got home, and I noticed a whine coming from outside.  Sure enough, the compressor from our family room A/C was complaining, and the fan not turning.  I took a photo of the plate, and texted Danny, the world's best AC guy -- a true gift referred to us by Norman.

It was 11:30.  Danny texted back -- many compressor motors had been shot by all the power surges caused by the FPL repairs.  He promised to call today -- and hopefully come by to fix the unit.  Fortunately, in this too big house, we have 3 other AC units -- and can retreat to plenty of cool areas.

We enjoy the warm.  We got some of the hot.  Still -- an awesome RH beginning with our new family...

Renewal of Power and Energy

So my Rabbi friend Yossi was awesome at D1 and S1's wedding.  The ceremony was beautiful and meaningful.  Even my lapsed Catholic friend Joel enjoyed it.

For the party, he stayed by the stairs, since he doesn't attend non kosher meals.  Still, I found out later he did a shot or two with friends who brought them to him.  What a guy.

Today he posted a video message for Rosh Hashonah, the Jewish New Year, which starts tomorrow.  He was inspiring.  He said that in the way Irma took our power, light, and energy, we must now INCREASE the power, light, and energy in our lives and community.  That really resonated with me.

Last night, Dr. Barry and I met.  We spent three hours and 4 martinis between us discussing our worlds, and solving problems.  He just came off a particularly stressful time -- in the midst of Irma, he was on service, meaning he was running the Peds ICU.  Of course, there was loss and tragedy, as there always is there.

But there was also re birth, and renewal.

We talked about winners versus losers.  We agree that winners find a way to win, and losers find a way to lose.

In a perfect world, there would be no sickness, and nothing to drag us down.  But of course there is -- winners seem to find a way to get past the blocks and challenges and still soar.

I have an acquaintance whose house, post Irma, looks pretty much like mine -- no structural damage, but trees down everywhere.  Sadly, he's using it as an excuse for not diving back into his work.  Instead, he was weeping about his financial challenges.  I tried to offer the advice of forget the house -- the dead trees will be just as dead in a few months.  Maybe focus on your career, and advance things there.

Nah.  First thing's first, to him.  Gotta get the yard cleaned up and THEN, maybe, get back to work.  In the meantime, it's easy to bemoan his fate.

One of my favorite sayings is instead of cursing the darkness, light a candle.  My rockin Rabbi gets that.

We've been in the dark, literally.  Let this now be a time of brighter light, and even more energy and power.

As for my house -- I have a guy coming tomorrow to see if he can take on the job.  Rockin Rabbi would like me to be in shul.  I joked that the donation I gave him in honor of D1 and S1 buys me a pass this year.  So I'll do my usual High Holiday gig -- not go to the office out of respect for my tribe, but speak to the Big Man alone.

Regardless -- I hope the light and energy indeed increase, and the new year is a sweet and happy one.

Finally Back

Oh me of little FPL faith.  One of my favorite stock holdings claimed our house would have electric by Tuesday night at 11:45.  They're a favorite because they pay a nice dividend, and, unlike other businesses, are immune to failure.  When they screw up, state taxpayers simply bail them out.  But I figured there was no way they'd restore us by then, and I kept our room at the Gables Hyatt through Thursday.

I had Ubered to the office, and when it was time to go, my partner John offered me a ride.  He had dinner plans right next to the Hyatt.  As we were parking on Merrick Drive, a woman was walking her two dogs on the sidewalk.  It was Wifey -- out playing Gablesite for the day.

We retreated to the hotel bar, where the dogs were welcome, and John and I ordered a couple of adult beverages.  Then Wifey reported that our next door neighbor had her power back.  Hmmm...I checked our Nest remote thermostat, and sure enough, it was blue -- the house was cooling.  We were electric again.

John left for his dinner, and I slinked over to the desk, ready to beg for no penalty for canceling the reservation early.  No worries.  The Hyatt staff was most gracious.  Wifey went up to our room, packed our stuff, and off we headed for home.

But we were hungry -- and had dogs in tow.  We stopped, for old times' sake, at Canton, our go-to Chinese place -- venue for many of our early dates.  We sat outside and ate, and Dr. Barry called in, and we got to catch up with him over speaker phone.

Then it was home -- first night in 12 days!  I opened some of the sliding shutters, and the house was mercifully cool.  The dogs had become spoiled -- got used to sleeping in bed with us, and the strange rescue barked a bit.  But then she settled in, as did the spoiled Spaniel, and Wifey and I drifted off to sleep watching a great new HBO show, "The Deuce."

John Denver's classic "Back Home Again" played in my head.  Sometimes this not so old (20 years) house feels like a long lost friend...

StayCation '17

Get nailed by a hurricane and see the southeast!  That's been the theme for us the past two weeks.

After 5 nights at the Langford Hotel, Downtown, Wifey, the two dogs, and I decamped to Coral Gables.  The last night at the Langford was a highlight.  Our friend Diane, recently restored to her usual Grove condo, ubered over and met us at the Langford rooftop bar.

At first the asshole doorman said no dogs, but Diane used her federal prosecutor ways, and I assisted with my charming ways, and the dogs were permitted outside.  I had martinis and Diane drank sparkling wine, and we re-lived the Big, Fat, Colombian wedding.  Diane said it was one of the most fun evenings she ever had.  She loved everyone's company, and went on and on about D1 and S1.

The next am, we packed up and checked into the Gables Hyatt.  Actually, we stopped by the house first.  Wifey and I did an experiment.  We determined our marriage can withstand about 1.5 hours in a house without air conditioning.  We got cranky and left.  Once the power comes back, we'll return.

The saddest part of the damage is my koi -- two weeks ago swimming happily in the pond, and now rotting carcasses on the surface.  I tried to scoop them out for the trash, but their koi bodies fell apart in the net.  I hope the raccoons can at least get some free sushi -- the smell isn't too pleasant, either.

Ah, the Gables Hyatt.  It's lovely, and the room is huge compared to the Langford.  The dogs seem to prefer the greener Gables to asphaltic Downtown.

Last evening, we strolled with them.  The Gables recently turned Giralda Street into a pedestrian only way.  It is lovely.  A place called "The Bar" sits where Hofbrau Haus used to be -- brought back fun memories from law school.

We made our way to Talavera, a great Mexican place.  I ordered a sangria, and Wifey loved it -- I joked that she pounded it.  The waiter came out with bad news and good news.  The power had gone out, so no food.  But the sangria was on the house.  We promised to visit again.

We walked to Books and Books, and ate outside in the café.  Fans were set up, and it was actually pleasant.

Wifey and I really do dig the Gables.  This stay may well be the impetus for us to actually consider fleeing the too large Pinecrest house and finding smaller digs in a city where we can walk to stuff.

We met a couple, probably in their 70s, who were sitting at Talevara.  They were gringos like us -- lifelong Gables folks.  The wife said she'd never live anywhere else.  They have a 1920s house completely renovated -- impact windows, of course.

If I get one of those, next storm Wifey can just pick up and leave.

In the mean time, it'd be nice to get electricity back at our place.  While I was there, a lineman came by.  He was from Bakersfield, CA, and was impressed I had driven through there a few times.  I asked him when we might be electrified.  He looked up at our transformer, encrusted by the neighbor's Royal Poinciana branches, and just shrugged and walked away.

So the staycation will continue...

What A September to Remember

So I figured by now I'd have written several entries about the BFCW.  It was MAGICAL.  But any basking in the afterglow was truncated by the need to flee Hurricane Irma.  Today is the first time I'm in front of a proper desk top computer, at the office.  I'm the only one here.

The BFCW.  I hoped it would be the best night of my family's life, and it was.  As far as I could tell, 260 plus guests had an awesome time.  I only heard of one person who didn't, and I had fully expected that.  Her complaints were comical, and provided humorous relief for the days that followed.

D1 looked beautiful.  My now official S1 was dashing.  D2 and Wifey were beaming.  S1's family was overflowing with love and happiness.  S1's brother Bob, normally a pretty staid CFO of a major company, became, around 2:30 am, the Spanish speaking Wedding singer.  My college buddies, with the exception of Dr. Eric, who had left, did the worm.

It was a night I will think about forever.  Every single person who means anything to me was there, with the exception of Wifey's sister of another mister Edna -- medical issues put the kibbosh on that.  But it turned out fate would have us bring the wedding to her, a few days later.

The night before the BFCW I hosted a cocktail party at Trulucks, for my friends and family who were staying in Miami.  We drank -- a lot.  After Trulucks, I kept the party going at the East Hotel rooftop bar.  We truly had a room at the top of the world, that night, to steal from Tom Petty.  Eric and I danced together, with my nephew Henry, and our buddy Dave from England, along with Geoff, an adopted brother in law.  Eric may have been as wasted as I ever saw him.  He rallied the next day, though.

Monday morning, I held court in the East Hotel lobby.  We drank coffee, and shared the warmth of the night before.  Barry reminded me that he was unable to make it to the rooftop bar, and for that reason I questioned his sexual orientation.  Just today I invited him to another rooftop bar, at the hotel we are exiled to by Irma, and I told him indeed his sexual orientation will be in question unless he joins me tonight.

After we checked out, D2, Wifey, and I took nephew Henry and Val back to our house.  Val napped on the front porch.  They are do delightful -- I was very grateful they made the trip to the BFCW.  The Ds and S1 have a biological cousin after all!  It's a nice thing to know.

And then came the storm warnings.  Having lived through a Cat 5, Andrew, I pledged to never be in town for one of those again.  So at 3 am Thursday, Wifey and I took the special needs Spaniel, strange rescue dog, and some extra gasoline, and fetched D1 and S1 and the spoiled Spaniel.

S1 and I make an awesome team.  We strategize well together, and we WAZED our way to Atlanta -- a normally 11 hour trip that took 17.  We arrived late at night, fetched some pizza and subs, and descended on Edna and Marc's house.

They opened up their home to us -- three dogs to join their pug Inky, and two couples.  I know people who wouldn't let guests stay in their garage -- our friends are the opposite.  We ate, and drank, and watched "Narcos" , in honor of S1, who is Colombian, and a great new HBO show called "The Deuce."

Marc and I went to the Marlins/Braves game -- they gave free tix to any Florida refugees.  We had a blast.  The next night, Edna's girl Erica joined us, and we went to the best restaurant in Sandy Springs -- Rumi's Kitchen, a Persian place.  We truly feasted, and relived the BFCW, and gave thanks for our well being.

But S1 is a working man, and he was a bit antsy to get back to his company.  As if on cue, damn Irma followed us, now as a tropical storm, and knocked out Atlanta power.  So we left the dark hurricane hole like thieves in the night, at 4 am Tuesday, and started back for the 305.

We got coffee and breakfast in Gainesville.  I pledged to never visit again, after MULTIPLE trips there during the Ds' combined 9 years in college and grad school there.  So much for proclamations.  But there was no gasoline, and S1 and I wended our way through the back roads of Gville and Ocala in search of an open station.

It started getting a bit dicey - we were down to 1/4 tank, and nothing was open, except for stations with lines of 100 cars.  But once on the Turnpike, the plaza was flush, and the staff handled the rush with military efficiency.  We topped off S1's Explorer and knew we'd have enough.

The trip home was "only" 14 hours.  S1 and D1 had power.  We had booked a room Downtown, at the historic Langford, a 1925 Miami bank building now a hotel.

Power at Villa Wifey is still out -- supposedly coming back by Sunday.  I have doubts.  But for now, we're comfortable and well fed.  There's a rooftop bar, and last night I bought a round for 10 federal agents staying there en route to the Keys, where there is true devastation.  I thanked them for their service -- they were most appreciative.

One of the fellows, a buff 30 something from Missouri, asked me if he was just missing his girlfriend, or where the young women he saw in Miami atypically beautiful.  I assured him his observation was indeed accurate.  He promised to return, he said, after this mess was over...

So I now have an S1 to go with my two Ds.  My house is dark, but intact.  Everyone I care about is fine.

I look forward to a return to normalcy, and plenty of time for a delayed basking in the afterglow of the BFCW.

The BFCW Finally Here

Time does march, and it's brought us to this sterling weekend -- D1's wedding to Joey.  Wednesday I fetched D2 from MIA, and we had a fine lunch followed by coffee at a new place in Pinecrest -- Buddha Brewing.  The owner, Cassady, is a young man who went to Palmetto High (D2 knew his younger sister) and the man is into his coffee.  We chatted with him, and then I took D2 home.

She and Wifey then drove to Midtown to fetch D1 for the opening event -- D1 being immersed in a mikveh -- the ritual bath.  No men were allowed, but it was reported to me that it was joyous -- Joey's mom Jackie, his grandmother, and several aunts (tias, as we call them) gathered for this ultimate woman bonding ritual.  D1 is going full Jewish throttle for the wedding -- and the mikveh is the first step.

D2 and Wifey came home from Aventura -- and we knew there'd be several more trips.  Early the next am we fetched D2 and drove north again -- this time to Sunny Isles, where Joey's family's synagogue is located -- Beit Rambam.  It's a Sephardic, Latin congregation -- most of the members are Colombian, with a smattering of other nationalities  the rabbi is an Argentine.  We attended an Auf Ruf service, which is a morning prayer announcing an upcoming wedding.  Paul attended with his lady Patricia, and Dr. Barry was there with his boy Josh.  Everyone kept calling the service Ruf Ruf -- appropriate for my dog obsessed family.  Afterwards Jackie and Ricardo catered a lovely breakfast  -- I had joked that, being Sephardic, probably no Ashkenazi soul food.  I was WRONG -- some of the best lox was served.  Barry especially was quite happy -- he took the caterers' card -- two Colombian Jewish sisters.

Thursday there was a dinner for D1 and Joey's friends -- empanadas at a Midtown restaurant.  I called it the "Dad not invited" party, since it was just for those 35 and under -- the Ds' and Joey's friends.  D2's man Jonathan made it in from NYC -- to represent the Venezuelans!  I'm told it was a great time -- D1's friend Esther came, with her boyfriend Andy.  Both are QUITE British -- and enjoyed an immersion into Latin Jewish culture.

Last night, Friday, ANOTHER trip to northern Miami Dade!  It was the final shabbat service before the wedding. We gathered, and the men chanted, while the women observed from the section set for them.  The rabbi said he would speak in Spanish and then English -- he sort of forgot the English part.  I joked with Freddy -- one of D1's friends that he was gentile and understood more than I did -- he's Honduran.  D2's Jonathan listened and then gave me a quick translation -- the couple must ignore the naysayers who would try to bring them down from their marriage.

We had brought our friend Elizabeth -- in from Orlando -- and she loved it.  She greeted everyone in Spanish.  And Latins are, without a doubt, so much warmer than we gringos -- the words they use when they just meet -- "my love" and my life" and "my darling."  We could learn a thing or two from them.

Afterwards there was a delicious dinner -- including some of the best pastrami I ever had.  I asked the caterer -- turns out, her father is a Brooklyn guy, though she is culturally Colombian.  She was trained correctly -- good pastrami is a joy of life.

We dropped Elizabeth in the Grove, and came home after midnight.  D1 and D2 drove home together --they decided to spend the final Friday night together in our house -- back to their girlhoods...

As I write, they're sleeping in -- I have fed all three dogs, and get a lovely, restful Saturday am.  Early in the afternoon we'll drive to Brickell, and check into the East Hotel.  The Ds are sharing a room, and have sister stuff to do -- nails, hair.  I have Dad stuff -- hosting a cocktail party at Trulucks, my go to watering hole.  The guests staying at the East are invited, as well as a few others stopping by.  The Canes first game is today, at noon, and the game goers plan to leave early and stop by -- a few toasts to the about to be new couple.

People have come from far and wide.  Joey's amazing family from South America.  Even D2's man Jonathan's brother and his new wife are coming from LA, and his sister and her new fiance from NYC.  My nephew Henry and his wife Valerie made it in from SF last night -- and we have English friends checking in this am.

Last night I met one of Joey's dear friends.  He's just finished working for the Peace Corps in Africa.  He starts grad school at Columbia next week.  We joked that he came the farthest for the wedding -- and he should get a discount from his new Ivy League school -- Columbia for Colombians...just switch a vowel...

Rabbi Yossi called yesterday.  He said that the marriage of a child causes the most important shabbat weekend of a family's life.  So far, so good.

Now if only the martinis tomorrow night can help with my salsa moves...