Turning Japanese

So D1 and Joey each have vague family histories regarding Japan.  Joey's parents, married in '84, honeymooned in Asia after their wedding in Colombia.  Ricardo brought home a wild new product -- the Laser Disc -- first guy on the block!

When I was in junior high, my Dad planned a three week trip for us.  He was always fascinated with Japanese culture, and we were ready to go, but then Mom collapsed during a Sunday outing, and was hospitalized with perforated ulcers.  No Japan for us.  Years later, after I practiced law for a year and hated it, I looked into moving to Japan to teach English.  I guess I inherited Dad's admiration of their culture -- I have ZERO desire to see any other Asian country.

Wifey was all for it.  We were 26 and 30 -- no kids, an easily rentable house, and could have found dog sitters.  I remember getting the brochures in the mail.  But, alas, life kept going, and I stuck around and kept at the law biz...

So now -- all these years later -- D1 is getting to go.  As I type, she and Joey are in Dallas, awaiting their very long flight to Tokyo.  Joey has a business associate in Japan, a very rich guy, and he will show them around a bit, and then they'll bullet train around the country.  I'm thrilled for them.

Friday night we met Joey and his parents and brother Alan for a farewell dinner, on Lincoln Road.  It was a delicious evening -- cool breezes blowing, happy visitors from all the world walking around.

We met at a Cuban place.  Ricardo got up to use the bathroom, and secretly paid the bill -- MY old trick!  We talked about the new life of the newlyweds -- they're house hunting, and D1 is building her business, and Joey is kicking butt at his company.

On the way home, Wifey and I talked in wonder about Joey and his family.  They're so delightful.  They live for their three boys (and now 2 daughters in law) the way Wifey and I live for our kids.  And they still enjoy life themselves.

Yesterday a late season tropical storm blew past us, off the coast, and brought torrential rain.  Barry came over around noon, and we ate bagels and lox and watched the Canes win -- yet again.  They're now 7-0.  Wifey laughed at how Barry and I screamed the same things at the TV.  Barry reminded her that he and I have watched the Canes together for 37 years now -- we tend to see football (and all of life, for that matter) pretty much the same.

Barry left to meet his wife and S2, who were returning from Orlando.  S1, Scott, texted us during the game.  Barry told him that D1 was invited to Baseball's Winter Meetings this December -- as Marlins team dietitian.  Scott was quite impressed.

Today we're left with the gorgeous weather the storm was kind enough to have in its wake.  Wifey and I need to visit her mother.  I think we'll take the old woman to the cemetery to visit her late husband's grave -- she always wants to make that single trip.  She tells us that lately she feels his presence a lot, and speaks to him.

Isaac Bashevis Singer wrote that, as he aged, he definitely believed in ghosts.  Who knows?

All I know is I wish D1 and Joey safe travels.  I told her I never ask for a gift from a trip, but I would kind of enjoy a coffee mug or T shirt of Godzilla.  I spent so many hours of my childhood watching those movies on weekend afternoons.  I think I read the atomic dinosaur is a cult figure in Japan.

Japan -- here they come!

Like A Breath of Fresh Air

Our first cold front finally came through, yesterday, and left us a delicious morning.  I don't think Miami temperatures have gone below 70 for the last 7 months, but today my trusty weather app says it's 58.  And better -- it "feels like" 57.  What a delightful change.

The weather won't last -- after a gorgeous cool day, it'll be back in the 80s next week - lows in the 70s.  But last night we got a lovely taste of sleeping with the windows open -- the sounds of tropical birds chirping and squaking in the evening air.

Wifey and I used to make fun of snowbirds -- folks who come south for the winter, but summer up north.  We finally see their wisdom -- the constant heat gets to us -- especially near the end of a long and hot summer.

I'll never buy a second place -- as I age, I want to own less, not more, but we do plan to travel more from July through September.

My friends Kenny and Joelle go to Western Maine each summer.  They rent a house on a lake.  The weekly rental has climbed from $5K to nearly $10K, and last week they bought a place.  It's going to be renovated, totally, next Spring, and Kenny hopes it's ready by Fall.  They plan to go there more and more and eventually make it their primary home, after Kenny and Joelle each retire -- probably in 10 years or so.  But he insists Wifey and I come to visit -- we may well take him up on that.

Last week, as we walked through D2's glorious neighborhood of Greenwich Village, we threatened them with a summer rental there.  D2 and Jonathan would welcome it, but I reminded Wifey that NYC in August can be pretty miserable, too -- though nights typically provide relief.

For now, though, I plan to savor this cool change.  My Canes are 6-0, and play an easy game Saturday.  Mike and Loni are hosting a Halloween party Saturday night -- we still have to figure out costumes for his 80s themed soiree.

Tonight I'm giving a football class -- to Wifey's friend Maureen.  She's writing a book about some wild character who did all sorts of intriguing things, and the protagonist played tight end for Rice University.  Maureen knows zero about football, and she's asked me to explain the basics to her -- the Fins play tonight, and there are a few college games, so I can use them as primers...Wifey will bring in food for us, but Maureen has demanded non football talk be kept to a minimum.  She is a serious writer.

Sunday D1 and Joey leave for their honeymoon adventure -- Japan.  I'm thrilled for them.  When I was 12, my Dad planned a three week trip for our family there.  Alas, Mom got sick, and the trip was canceled, so I look at D1's journey as the fulfillment of one of my Dad's dreams -- four and a half decades later.

So welcome cool breezes.  It's great to have you here for awhile.

Hop a Flight to Miami Beach, or to Hollywood

So Wifey and I missed D2, and decided to jet on up to LGA for a few days of quality daughter time.  We Ubered over to MIA (I plan to drive less and less and Uber more and more) and had a quick breakfast at the Centurion, and then headed to our gate.  We saw a couple we know, whose kids know the Ds, and laughed because their last name is one of lightness and sweetness, and the Mom is anything but.

We flew to LGA in record time -- plane made it in just over two hours, and then we went to our hotel.  Wifey and I were taken aback.  We're fortunate to often stay in very nice places, but this hotel knocked our socks off.  It's the Edition NY, located in the old Metropolitan Life Building, known for its clock tower.  The hotel is a few years old.  It's big.  Everyone we encountered there treated us like royalty.  They upgraded us to a room with views south to the Freedom Tower, and east to the River.  It was terrific.

We walked across the street to Madison Square Park, and enjoyed the gorgeous afternoon.  There's a dog park, and you're only supposed to go inside with a dog.  Wifey was a scofflaw -- she wanted to sit amongst the puppies sans her own dog.  She got away with it.

After the park, we walked south on 5th Avenue to Ds and Jonathan's place.  We ran into D2, who spotted us on 6th Avenue, and 12th Street.  She laughed -- we walked right past her.  We went to her Village apartment, and Jonathan joined us.  We toasted our reunion.  The young couple looked beautiful and happy.  It gladdened our hearts.

A while back, I read a quote I really like: when your child finds true love, you find true joy.

We walked to dinner at Chumley's, a former speakeasy now an upscale restaurant.  I had their famous burger, which has bone marrow in it.  It was indeed a top 5 burger.  Wifey and D2 had cod, and Jonathan went adventurous -- he tried the rabbit, which the waiter said was best in the city.  He liked it, and was happy to jump over a culinary hurdle.  The waiter was funny -- he said the cuter an animal is, the more delicious.  I countered that we need to keep puppies away from the restaurant.

Wifey and I walked back to our hotel, and D2, inheriting my worry gene, made us text when we made it.  As we crossed the park, I noticed a line of people waiting at a hot dog stand.  Turned out it was the original Shake Shack -- a big deal for tourists in the City.

Saturday Wifey and I had breakfast in the Clock Tower restaurant in the hotel.  Wifey loved it -- high ceilings filled with photos of celebrities in NYC.  The manager, who I befriends as a fellow Long Islander, gave her a guide -- and Wifey had a great time spotting Brando, and Marilyn, and Dylan.  The breakfast was delicious, and the manager Paul and I hit it off -- he's a gay Irish guy from Stony Brook.  He was impressed that I guessed his high school -- Ward Melville.  We traded cards and I told him to call when he comes to the 305 for some restaurant suggestions.

We walked to the Village, and took D2 and Jonathan to lunch -- Wifey and I drank coffee.  Jonathan had to decamp to his apartment to do some work, and we walked to Thomkins Square Park in the East Village -- decidedly more rundown than the West Village.  But they had a Halloween Dog Parade, and it was terrific -- all the dogs and their quirky owners in a packed setting.  Wifey and D2 shot tons of photos and videos.

We left at three, so I could make it back to the apartment for religious reasons -- the Canes game was on TV.  I had given my tickets to D1's in laws, and they sent me a photo of themselves having a blast.  I was happy to see that.  The Canes played another tight game, and Wifey had a great time filming me yelling at the TV, even though we always had the lead.  I probably care too much about that team...

As the game ended, Jonathan took us to one of their go to date restaurants, and it was also delicious.  We had awesome scallops, and the waiter brought us extra sides and desserts.  I realized I had a $100 hotel credit at the Edition, and so we walked there, and had a few more expensive cocktails.  It was an awesome night.

Sunday Jonathan and D2 walked back to our hotel, where Paul the manager greeted us warmly, and gave us a great table.  We ordered, and I avoided the special -- French toast with bacon.  But Paul was a mind reader -- he sent it over complements of the place, and we shared it.  Afterwards we walked again, all over, and made our way to Chelsea Market.  Jonathan begged off to go do some more work -- he was prepping for a business trip to Oregon this week -- and we savored our time with D2.

The market was decorated for Halloween, and we found a few seats near a duo on guitar and bass playing show tunes.  It made for a wonderful afternoon.

We walked D2 back to her apartment, and UBered to our hotel and then to LGA.  As an added bonus, I got to watch the second half of the Dolphins'Jets game at the LGA Centurion lounge, and the Fins came back in the 4th quarter to win, to the dismay of the mostly NY crowd.

We flew home to the heat and humidity, and, thankfully and thanks to Chris, our 1L dog and house sitter, happy and living dogs.

And then there was the big news...D1 was profiled in, of all things, the freaking NY Times!  It was online Friday, but in the print edition Sunday.  We already got several emails from friends who read the Sunday Times.

All I know is, during this trip, Wifey and I took stock of our blessings.  She said that growing up working class in Canarsie and then Kendall, she never imagined taking trips and staying in places like the Edition.  It's very nice.

But the main thing is our ridiculous daughters.  As in ridiculously spectacular.  We adore them. We admire them.  We unconditionally love them.

My beloved late Dad was a devoted Times reader.  I imagine his expression if he saw his granddaughter profiled in the "paper of record."  He'd be absurdly proud.  We're absurdly fortunate.

A Voice From the Bronx

So Wifey and I went to visit her mother last night.  We entered the old woman's room, and she was fast asleep and talking.  Very loudly.  Whole conversations that changed from English to Polish to Yiddish to gibberish.  It was really something to see, and made clear why she keeps losing roommates -- they can't handle all the night talking.

We woke her, and she was fine, and we noticed that someone HAD moved in -- a neatly made bed, and photos.  My suegra said "She's some Spanish lady" but the photos told a different tale -- many of a couple from WW II -- in fact, one looked exactly like a favorite we have of my parents -- their wedding shot from Pasadena.

I went to the gazebo to wait for Wifey to get the old woman mobile, in a wheelchair.  I was enjoying the night breezes, and playing with flight radar, an app that tells me the ID and destination of airplanes that pass over wherever I am.  Then Wifey texted "Come back to room."

This was it, I figured, the old woman died.  Nah. Not yet.  The roommate had returned, and Wifey wanted me to meet her.  She was JUST like my mother.

Wifey was right.  She was pretty, and not at all Spanish speaking -- in fact, she had my Mom's identical accent.  She was mostly lucid, and I learned her name was Evelyn, and she was born in 1925, and was indeed from the Bronx.  In fact -- she had attended the same high school as my parents!

I played some Jewish Geography, thinking she might have known my folks' younger siblings, who would have been about Evelyn's age, but no dice.  Evelyn moved to Miami in '45, and helped her parents in their jewelry store.  Her husband stayed in the Army longer, and they were married.  She's lived all these years right in Kendall.

It was uncanny.  Her speech and mannerisms were exactly my Mom's.  She was delightful.  She was pleasant.  She told about her husband's brother, who liked her before her husband did:  "He said the gal is mine.  Hands off, buddy!"  It was like listening to a Sunny tale.  It was lovely.

As we spoke, my mother in law became visibly agitated.  She was jealous of the attention we were giving the much lovlier and pleasant lady.  We took her outside, like the difficult toddler she is.

The good news is Evelyn doesn't hear too well, so she might last as a roomie.  She said she is anxious to hear the tales of the Holocaust that my suegra shares with everyone.  We'll see.

Wifey adored Evelyn right away -- as she adored my mother.  She noticed how neat she was.  She's sure her mother will wreck this new relationship, as she is wont to do.

We'll see.  All I know is that for me, it was a warm blast of nostalgia.  It was if Sunny had visited for a while.  I was standing on the Grand Concourse, or at Yankee Stadium, listening to this Greatest Generation, Swell gal.

It was an unexpected treat for a meeting with a woman who never gives much pleasure to her guests anymore.

In My Mind I'm Going to Greenwich Village

Melville's Ishmael said he knew it was time to put to sea when living on the land depressed him -- when he caught himself spending too much time joining funeral processions...

I'm thankfully, usually, a much more cheerful guy.  My travel bug bites when I haven't seen one of the Ds in more than a month.  For D1, it was when she was away in Gville -- D2 during her 5 year tenure as well.  Now, for the past nearly 2.5 years, D2 has been on sabbatical in NYC.

I saw her for the Big Fat Colombian Wedding, in September, and she's due home for TDay.  But that was too long a gap -- so I booked a trip to NYC for an October visit.  Wifey wants to go, too, and we leave Friday, late am.

D2 and her man Jonathan live in my favorite part of the Tri State area: Greenwich Village.  It was my beloved Dad's favorite part, too.  Although Dad was a classic Greatest Generation "Man in the Gray Flannel Suit," he admired poets and writers and musicians, and taught me a love for things Bohemian.  And GW still maintains that vibe -- even though it's very expensive to live there.

Wifey and I will Uber from LGA, and we have late reservations for dinner at Chumley's -- a new restaurant at the site of a famous literary speakeasy.  Saturday we'll just roam around, I guess -- hopefully enjoying some brisk Fall weather.  It WILL be brisker than here.

Saturday night I will need to find a dinner place where I can catch the Canes game.  Stuff with them getting serious now -- ranked in the Top 10, with a chance for greatness here at mid season.  D2 will understand -- even 5 years in Gatorland hasn't removed her affinity for her childhood team.

Sunday I have a rental car reserved -- from a spot in the Village.  I plan to drive Wifey and the young-uns out to my ancestral home -- Long Island -- but to the really nice part -- North Shore.  There's a gorgeous arboretum there -- the Planting Fields -- and I hope to lead them on a classic Fall day -- we might even find some pumpkin pie and apple cider while we're on "The Island."

Our flight leaves late Sunday -- D2 and Jonathan can drop us at LGA and then return the car.

Then, I will have taken care of the need to see my youngest -- at least until November.

A Saturday Gigante -- Thanks Canes

Wifey and Edna returned Friday from their no testosterone night at Edna's condo in Hallandale.  We went to sushi at Sukora, which rhymes with Wifey, and had a lovely evening.

Saturday am we shared coffee, and then my sister of another mister Mirta came by.  Mirta is my Canes wife -- Wifey has pronounced no day games on account of it's too hot for her -- Mirta is glad to be the fill in.  She and Edna caught up, and then we were on the road to Joe Robbie with a Roof.

Norman and Maria were in set up mode, and avoiding losing fingers while helping erect the tent, we got up all three.  Of course, I got some chuckles from Norman's boy Benji about the risks of having older guys involved in erections...

The usual suspects came by, and I shared a bit of Stoli Orange with Dr. Barry, Jim, and Paul.  Dr. Eric and Dana had his own set up since his boy Josh hosted some Georgia Tech buddies in from Atlanta -- Norman greeted the visitors with a very serviceable chant of "Nerds, Nerds, Nerds..."

In homage to the engineers, Eric and Dana's tailgate spread was well organized -- perfect dishes of taco ingredients.  But Rob, their friend, brought the best -- his home smoked ribs, which were truly the best I ever had.

We laughed and ate and drank.  It was a fine Saturday afternoon...and then...

The Canes treated us to a Top 10 all time game -- losing for most of it, but coming back to win with mere seconds left.  Barry and Josh sit a row in front, and after halftime I moved between them, as Mirta caught up with her son Mike, who had scored some Club tickets.  When the small miracle pass at 4th and 11 was completed, Barry and I hugged wildly, as we did when Danny Miller's last second field goal beat the Gators in the Orange Bowl in 1980.  We were ecstatic as college boys then -- 47 years later, we were still ecstatic about our Canes...

The game ended, and we lingered in the stadium, singing the alma mater.  Josh, who will be twenty in March seemed to sense he had seen an epic game as well.  He makes me proud to have as a nephew...

Mirta and I drove the Palmetto, and Mirta called in our order for late night sandwiches at Pinecrest Bakery -- a new tradition we started this year.  The staff there speaks ZERO English, even though the shop is in Gringo heavy Pinecrest.  No worries -- their delicious sandwiches are so great -- they can speak Swahili, for all I care.

We brought home a pavo (turkey) for Wifey, and Mirta and I got Cubans.  Edna loved her Monte Cristo -- humorously pronounced by the staff.

We munched, and chatted, and then Mirta left.  Edna leaves today.

Wifey visited her mother yesterday, and the news was sad -- the old lady is declining, and in a lot of pain from her repeated falls.  I see an awful graduation in her near future -- the graduation from assisted living to nursing home.

If you win the life contest and get many years, often the prize is one you really don't want.

But yesterday, with that one sad wrinkle, was grand...

Getting Back To Normal

So a much too eventful September has passed, and October is nearly half over.  We finally have our house mostly back to normal.

Sara the landscaper had her crew work two full days, and most of the storm debris is gone.  They have another half day to go, and then I can think about buying some new koi for my pond.  They died after the aerator was off for 5 days while the power was gone and we were in Atlanta.  The koi were all 13 or so -- I had bought them after the prior batch died following Wilma. 

I have a few roof tiles needing replacing -- but those are only cosmetic.  The roofer we use put me on a long list of jobs -- I figure they'll get to my small task in November.  The good news is that, thanks to our friend Marc's drone shots -- we can see the roof other than those few tiles is perfect.

Marc and Edna came last Saturday.  It was great having them -- laughter, and fun meals together.  Marc left yesterday, and Edna was going to change her plane ticket and go with him -- but the change charge exceeded the price of the ticket, and Edna stayed on.  She and Wifey are at Wifey's book club today -- at Berries in the Grove -- and tonight they're going to Edna's parents' condo in Hallandale to check on it and have a Y chromosome free evening.

This truly is my favorite time.  Canes season is in full swing -- Saturday we have a tailgate planned, thanks to Norman and Maria -- and Mirta is ready to go with me.  We host Georgia Tech, and the Canes are 4-0 --giving my group a nostalgic whiff of our glory years.

Wifey and Edna return tomorrow, and Edna leaves Sunday.  Mirta and I will come home from the game Saturday and bring Pinecrest Bakery sandwiches -- sort of a new tradition we've started for late afternoon games.  Mirta visits Edna's Dad at Miami Jewish Home -- they'll have some debriefing to do, I'm sure.

As for me tonight?  I enjoy playing the gentleman bachelor, from time to time.  I'm thinking a martini and steak might be in the plan -- my friend John, a widower, is always up for that sort of evening.

And it's nice to come home to a house that no longer looks like the set of "Jumangi."  Hopefully we've seen the last of windstorms for quite awhile.

What Your Parents Were Doing New Year's Eve

So it turns out that there's a statistical bump in birthday distribution.  More people, at least in the US, are born from late September through early October.  Now, some reports about birth rates going up, say after blackouts in major cities, are urban legends.  But the September-October bump is true.  Why?  Simple -- look back nine months, and you see it's New Year's Eve.  As the Ds would say: gross.

But we had a few birthdays among close friends to celebrate, and we did it well.  First -- Friday night we drove to an old part of Miami, now known as MiMo (for mid century) and met Paul, Patricia, and Allison.  Allison chose the Vagabond for her celebration -- built in the 50s, and a major hangout for Sinatra and his Rat Pack.  In the 70s and 80s, the Vagabond and surrounding area became Miami's 42nd Street.  In fact, when I was in college, "Where'd you find her -- 79th Street?" was a well used phrase -- meaning a dude's date was bought and paid for by one of the streetwalkers along Biscayne and 79th Street.

Not no more!  The Vagabond is now very cool and upscale, and we enjoyed a great dinner and drinks.  Allison was beaming -- surrounded by, as she told a fellow she's dating who joined out table -- her inner circle.

The birthday celebrations continued Saturday.  Paul's boy Alex had his final, pre-40 day.  He and his Dad and 2 beautiful kids stopped by, for Joanna's sandwiches, and time in our pool.  Wifey is SO ready for grandkids -- she beamed in the presence of Enid and Roger -- and the kids had an awesome time.  Wifey had bought a Carvel ice cream cake at Publix -- I didn't even know Carvel was still in business -- and Alex loved it -- the cake of his birthday youth.

They left, and I cruised over to Mike's -- he hosted a watch party for the Canes/Noles.  It turned out to be an epic game -- the Canes won in the final 6 seconds -- finally ending the Noles' 7 game winning streak.  There was much rejoicing.  Our team is back, finally.  We yelled so much our voices were raw.

I came home to another birthday party -- Wifey's friend Jeannette's.  Edna and Marc had arrived from Atlanta -- and D1 and Joey were there organizing wedding gifts -- many of which have been living in our garage for the past month.  Many will be returned, of course, and a few kept.  The young folks left, and we sang HBD with another Carvel cake.  Jeannette loved it.

Yesterday am, Wifey and I dropped Marc and Edna at Miami Jewish -- Edna's parents are still living there, and drove to Morningside to join Joey and his family in looking at houses.  D1 and Joey want to live there -- Joey's brother and sister in law already do.  It's a terrific place -- huge city park on Biscayne Bay -- old houses with true character being renovated.  D1 and Joey, like me, can't stand cookie cutter places -- we feel claustrophobic in them.

But the cookie cutter places are cheap -- Morningside is NOT.  The houses we looked at are 10 times more expensive that Wifey and my first place.  The already renovated places are getting top dollar -- the ones that need the work are, of course, cheaper.

My advice to D1 and Joey is that they decide themselves -- we all have strong feelings about houses, and need to keep out of their decisions.  My favorite was an early 30s place -- with a writer's office overlooking a tree shaded street.  Joey's Dad preferred the newer place.

As I told Joey when we left -- may ALL their life decisions be such happy ones.

We left Morningside and fetched Marc and Edna, and then went to Cafe Royal, a historic restaurant in an old coral rock pump house.  We had a delicious brunch.

We came home, and Marc and I watched one of the most boring Dolphins games of all time.  The Fins won -- I didn't even care.  Edna and Wifey napped, and then we left at 6 for Brickell City Centre.

We met Deb and Norman, and ate and drank well, and then we visited the rooftop bar Sugar.  It really reminds me of Tom Petty's "Room at the Top of the World."  Last year the six of us were on a Maritimes cruise -- last night here, to celebrate Edna's 61st.

With our close ones close, we were truly on top of the world.  Happy birthday products of New Year's Eve action.

Twice With An Old Friend

Wifey and I have a favorite, long time friend, named Allison.  I met her at UM Law, but years later, she came to work for my firm.  She became the muse, confessor, and confidant of Paul and me -- and also a decorator and realtor for all of us.

She was a guest at the BFCW, but we didn't get to spend much time with her -- the sheer size of the party prevented that.  But her birthday is today, and yesterday Paul set up a get together for all of us, tonight, at a hipster place on Biscayne Boulevard.  We're looking forward to us.

But fate had earlier plans.  Allison had kids late in life, and her twins are now 13.  One plays volleyball for her middle school, and yesterday there was a game at Palmer Trinity -- a private school south of us.  Al texted -- her girl Emma was taking the bus home -- were Wifey and I free?  We were - and she came by for a cocktail and chat -- it ended up lasting for hours.

Allison's gone through a rough divorce -- from a guy I never much liked.  He's a corporate lawyer, who always had a much higher opinion of himself than I thought made any sense.  Despite the difficulties of the split, Allison has kept her awesome sense of humor.  And we have a history of hilarious tales to share.

We did it last night.  She helped Wifey decorate our house when we moved in 17 years ago.  She reminded us that I had agreed to host a huge party for UM a mere month after the move -- the College of Arts and Sciences farewell to UM President Tad Foote.  Wifey and Allison scrambled to get ready -- and the party was a huge success.

When I welcomed everyone, I told Tad Foote that, in '81 when he came to UM, my roommates and I were asked to welcome him to the "Honors Dorm"  - an aging apartment building, long since torn down.  The symmetry was great -- 20 years later, I was called upon to host his retirement.  Tad, always the gracious, WASPy patrician (his wife was the daughter of Senator William Fullbright), looked around and said UM must have done a good job with me.  Also, my beaming Mom was there, and he greeted her -- thanking her for sending her young son to Miami.  It was a lovely evening.

We recalled the night, as well as many, many more escapades of our never boring law firm -- the good times, and riches, and son of a bitches, to steal a Buffet line.

Allison's daughter called at around 10, after we had eaten take in DiNapoli, and summoned her home to Miami Shores.  We said farewell -- and knew the reunion would continue tonight.

Some folks go through life without close friends.  I'm not sure how they do it.  I'm just glad I never had to find out.

It's About the Young and Their Fellow Travelers

The past few days have been so sad, between Vegas, Petty, and deaths close to home.  My friend Jeff and I spoke yesterday -- he's my most Eeyore of friends.  Even in happy times he's measured and a bit sad sounding.  He called while I was at the office with Stuart, and described the funeral of our mutual acquaintance Gayle.  After he hung up, Stu looked around the office for something to kill himself with.

I had a great catch up breakfast with Norman -- his father Max's birthday is today.  He's 90.  Max is the youngest greatest generation man I ever met.  His 90 years contain a man who is as young as anyone I know.  So many people I know become old in their 60s.  Max is more tech savvy than anyone.  His kids, grandkids, and great grandkids literally fight over him -- who gets to spend time with him, take him out.

Unfortunately, Max is an outlier.  Wifey and I visited many of his fellow 80-90 somethings the other night at the Palace. Wasn't nothing young about the residents -- sour faced, shuffling along.  My mother in law, turning 93 this December, is going down fighting, but has declined so much.  Wifey worked on a jigsaw puzzle with her mother -- she could no more fit in a piece than she could run a mile.  Also, she "wrote out" recipes for her famous cookies, and handed them to Wifey.  The writings were non sense gibberish.

I guess the ultimate, luck person is to age like Max.  It's just so rare.

And then I got a call from D1, on her way home from a Junior League meeting.  For her, it was all about the positive -- the future.  She and S1 are looking into buying their first house together, and as she spoke, it reminded me of Wifey and me in the 80s -- all excitement, all eyes on days to come.

It helps that S1 is an accountant.  He has spread sheets about pros and cons of various houses -- this one is less money, but needs stuff, that one is more expensive, but move in.  They're probably going to buy in Morningside, a gentrifying part of Miami close to Downtown and surrounding a gorgeous City Park on Biscayne Bay.

The houses there were built in the 20s through the 50s, mostly small, well constructed places, that are being expanded and renovated.  Lots of gay folks live there -- a sure sign it's a neighborhood on the rise.  D1 and S1 aren't interested in any cookie cutter 'burbs -- and I applaud the way they're going about things.

And mostly, I admire their youth.  Sadness is around them, but the future is far more important than dwelling on the world's problems.

Yes -- it's about the young.  They own the future, and I look forward to seeing what they do with it.

I Think I'll Take The Trip

September was a crazy month for us, and a quite expensive one.  There was, first, the Big, Fat, Colombian Wedding, and although I paid for most of that in past months, expenses mounted for the days surrounding it -- a kick ass cocktail party, breakfasts, hotel bills...And then came Hurricane Irma, with her unplanned fleeing to Atlanta, and another week after that of expensive hotel bills.

So I was sitting in my office yesterday, and thinking that I missed D2, and I also missed Fall.  Miami Fall isn't, really.  If we're lucky, we get a bit of cooling off -- about a quarter of Halloweens in the past 40 years were sweater weather -- most were still sweltering days.  No -- northern Fall -- crisp weather, leaves afire, pumpkin pie and apple cider.  Those were the Falls of my youth.

I checked NYC hotel rates, and they were out of this world.  The Walker, where I stayed in February for about $325 a night, was listed at nearly $600 per night.  And this is no luxury place -- just a quaint, well located Village property, with tiny rooms.

And then I took stock...

There was more sad news for us, both locally and nationally.  Locally, a close acquaintance, Gayle, died.  She hosted us for several NY Eves.  The Ds are friendly with 2/3 of her daughters.  She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer about three years ago -- typically a less than one year prognosis.  But the good docs at UM/Sylvester kept her with us for three years -- long enough to meet her first beautiful granddaughter.

Nationally, a maniac killed 59 in Vegas -- innocents attending a country music concert.  And one of my favorite musicians -- a man whose lyrics I quote often (behind quoting Dylan and Springsteen) died at 66.  Tom Petty -- I always joke he's the third best thing to come out of Gainesville -- after my Ds, who are tied for #1.

So I took it as a sign, sort of like when Dublin poet Brendan Behan decided to go to North America after seeing as a challenge a sign that said "Drink Canada Dry."

I texted D2 and Wifey.  We settled on October 20-22.  I found an Amex Preferred Hotel, the NY Edition -- plenty expensive, but at least coming with free breakfast and a $100 credit -- which I assume D2's man Jonathan and I will make short work of at the hotel bar.

I asked D2 to get us reservations at Chumley's -- a Greenwich Village historic restaurant we learned about when we took a walking tour -- it boasts more Pulitzer Prize winning writers who ate and hang there than any other restaurant in the US.  We may even rent a car and drive out to Long Island -- I love the Planting Fields Arboretum in the Fall.

But mainly -- we'll see D2.  I learned about both of my girls, when they went to college at UF -- after not seeing them for a month, I miss them too much.  So D2 was here in early September, and is due back for Thanksgiving -- this trip will be a nice fill in.

And in this crazy world, where one moment you're sitting at a concert and the next dragging your companion's bloody body out of the venue, or vice versa, well, the sage words of my old boss Ed come to light.

One evening Paul and his then wife were hosted at a fine New Orleans restaurant.  Ed ordered absurdly expensive wine, and they feasted like royalty.  Paul asked Ed if he could truly afford it.  Ed replied, "My boy, you can't afford to NOT live like like this."

The trip is booked.

So This Is Yom Kippur...And What Have You Done

So yesterday was the big holiday for my peeps -- the one where, it is said, the Big Man seals his Book of Life -- who shall live, who shall die, who shall die by fire, who shall die by ice...

I spent it hanging around the house, mostly in reflection...taking stock, as they say.

I truly wish I was a man who could believe in the traditional way.  I tried going to services -- for many years.  But the words just fall around me.  Orthodox services are better -- I get a sense that my friend Yossi really knows his Torah.  Reform are the worst for me -- scolding rabbis who seem to be more sociologists and pop psychologists than learned scholars -- and they try to spruce up the services with 60s style, but bad folk rock with guitars...

For now, I just do better skipping all of them.

Friday night was Kol Nidre.  That is my favorite of services.  Comedian Lewis Black noted the creepy music -- better than any Hitchcock movie.  Instead, I sat alone and watched the Canes play at Duke.  Mike was at a sports bar and invited me, but Wifey reminded me maybe I'd feel better if I didn't go out publicly during a high holiday.  She was right.  The Canes won, but it was an annoying game -- they let the inferior Devils hang around until the fourth quarter.

Yesterday I mostly tried to just get through the day.  The special needs Spaniel and strange rescue dog were great companions.  I fasted.  I reflected.  I figured out, well, nothing.

But today, as I fetched the paper, I detected the slightest hint of coolness in the air.  Not really coolness, but at least a slight cessation of oppressive heat and humidity.  My favorite season is upon us.

I miss the North in Fall.  The good news is, I may have to cover a meeting for the firm, and if I do, will include a trip to see D2.  Greenwich Village is glorious in Autumn.

I truly, finally, see the wisdom of the snow birds -- people who live up north during the summer and winter in Florida.  Maybe that'll be a nice compromise for Wifey and me -- guaranteed weeks up North, and only being here for the great weather -- October through April.  We'll see.

All I know is, I thank the Big Man for each day.  The dogs are happily snoring behind me.  The coffee is hot and fresh.  October is here.