La La How The Life Goes On...

So yesterday my posse and I spent dealing with the departure of he whose name I plan to no longer say. Paul, Vince, Stu, and I figured stuff out, and spoke to the boss at the firm where the leper went.  Details are irrelevant, but one thing struck out:  we all laughed -- a lot.

We share an amazing brotherhood -- the crap piece who left was never really part of it, and that shone through yesterday. Sure, the money is important, and everyone wants to maximize their piece of a pie, but the togetherness was supreme. Of course, my words would be, as a wise person once noticed, spoken like that of a true rich man.

Anyway, afterwards I drove through a classic Miami summer downpour to the Gables, where I was meeting Wifey, Joey, and D1 at Fratellino's.  It's been there 4 years, and I felt like the only dufus who didn't know about it. I met the owner, Beto, and loved him right away -- Miami guy, originally from the Bronx -- lifelong restaurant guy.  He greeted Wifey and D1 with hugs, and Joey in Spanish, as his background is Argentinian Italian.  After he came by to ask after the food, and we all were delighted, he said "There's an old Sician saying for that: 'Boruch Hashem."  I have a feeling I'll be going to his place quite a lot.

D1 and Joey are getting close to moving into their new home.  We talked about the fact that though it's expensive, it has no garage -- just car ports. They explained that garages tend to only get filled up with crap you're too lazy to throw away.  They SO get it...

We got home to a hive of FPL activity -- a line had been knocked down in the storm, and the crew was out in force trimming away branches and putting up new wires. I sneaked in, and lit some candles. Wifey made her way inside, too, and started packing for her trip by candlelight.  An hour or later, the power was restored, and all systems were again go.

I fell asleep as an ad played for the firm we're meeting with Monday. It was a young lawyer saying that accident victims should REPORT attorneys that contact them -- only hire lawyers you see on TV!  I chuckled to myself -- this guy is fine with stealing our clients, and advertises his morality.  I'm often so befuddled about why people hate lawyers so much...

Today Wifey was up and chirpy.  I drove her to MIA as she related to me a tale of her friend from Iowa -- she learned at nearly age 60 she had a brother. Their reunion started out well, but ran into rough waters.

I dropped her at the AA departures and called Paul. Would we meet at Mo's for breakfast?  We would not -- Paul had grandpa duties this am. So I pointed the SUV south, and strode into Wagon's West. I chatted with Walter, who's owned the place for over 30 years. I asked him how the boss was. He replied that though he was called Chief, he really felt like he was working for the Indians.  I totally dig his political incorrectness...

And I returned a blissfully quiet house. I can last a week, I think...