Yahrzeit

So tomorrow marks the anniversary of my Mom's death -- she died April 27, 2013. It was six years ago tomorrow.

The death of a very old person is strange -- no one is shocked it's coming, and yet when it finally comes, it's still, for some reason, shocking. I guess as much as you prepare for it, when you accept the loved one is actually, truly gone, it hits hard.

Two weeks before she died, we celebrated Mom's 93rd birthday. Most of her Florida family was there, except for her beloved first born grandson, who, I'm told, found her decline "too creepy" to handle, and thus didn't see her once during her time in the nursing home.

But we ate cake, and brought in pizza. It rained hard at the Miami Jewish Home, and Mom seemed to think we were celebrating New Year's Eve. Still, she responded nicely to seeing her three granddaughters, three great granddaughters, and one great grandson.

Her decline after that birthday day continued in earnest. Mirta, who took on the role of a loving watch dog for her care at the nursing home, stayed with her late into the night before she passed. I had been there, and went home to sleep, and Mom was mostly out of it, but still had breathing problems, and Mirta used her aggression with the hospice staff to get Sunny the morphine she needed.

Mirta was going to stay over night that Friday, but I made her go home -- I was coming back early Saturday.  And indeed I was getting gas at the station right next to MJH when the social worker called me -- Sunny had just passed.

I was there in about 2 minutes, and went to her room. The staff had already cleaned up, but the sickly sweet smell of the disinfectant they must use when the dying lose their bowels was heavy in the air.

Wifey was due a bit later, with her friend Edna in tow, and per usual, didn't answer her phone. I knew Wifey was fetching her father from another part of MJH and would be coming over, and Richard was totally freaked out by death.

Barry came by. He had planned a final visit with Sunny, and missed seeing her alive by an hour or so. Barry waited in the room with me -- I had already called the Neptune Society, and they were sending out an attendant. I guess they had called ahead and learned Mom was tiny -- only one fellow showed up.

I heard Wifey and Edna coming down the hall, and I went to meet them -- telling them Sunny was gone. Wifey returned her Dad to his room, and then came back with Edna.

The fellow from Neptune came, and we watched as he used care in putting Mom into a blue body bag. Wifey and I kissed her forehead. That was the last we saw of her.

My parents had three kids, and fate, or the Big Man, decided that I was the only one of us to be there when both our parents died. 

We went over to Soyka. D1 and her friend from Brickell joined us. We talked of Sunny -- there would be no funeral, per her wishes, and that was our modern shiva time. I thanked Barry -- he was there to support me when my Dad died, and now, 31 years later, was still by my side. I KNOW the Big Man directed that to happen.

My sister and brother in law came the next day to fetch Mom's few belongings. And with that, we were finished with our dealings with Miami Jewish Home, where she had spent her last 11 months.

I got word from Neptune Society a few weeks later that they had done the cremation, and were sending the "cremains" to me by FedEx.  D2 had arrived home from UF -- and on that Saturday she and Wifey and D1 were out together.  The FedEx guy arrived, and I met him at our gate, to accept the box.

I set the wooden box up on a desk. Wifey and the Ds came home, and I said to them "Hey! Don't you think it's polite to greet your Grandma!"  They looked at the box and were startled. I don't think my morbid humor helped the situation.

Fittingly -- the next day, Sunday, was Mother's Day. Wifey, the Ds, and I drove to Matheson Hammock. We parked in a corner of the lot, and took the box to  Biscayne Bay -- a lagoon of the Atlantic Ocean, where Mom was to have her ashes join her beloved husband's.

I opened the box, and struggled a bit with the heavy duty plastic bag inside. Cremains are sort of like concrete mix.  We walked through the mangroves and committed Mom to the sea. I was thinking of the scene in "The Big Lebowski" where the wind blows Donny's cremains back into Walter and the Dude's faces, by the Pacific. Thankfully no such thing befell us.

And then a small miracle happened. As we put in the last of the ashes, beautiful white butterflies appeared. I've never seen them at Matheson before or since. Wifey smiled and cried -- she thought it was definitely a message from another place.

And then life went on. D1 married Joey, an amazing man from an amazing family. D2 is to marry another amazing man from an amazing family soon -- January. D2 got her Master's degree and moved to NYC with Jonathan -- D1 and Joey bought their first house in NE Miami.

My sisters and I have lived our own lives -- I haven't seen my California sister in three years. But that changes soon -- 6 years after our Mom's death, we're having a family reunion, in Half Moon Bay, where my nephew and niece Henry and Val live.  My Florida sister and brother in law unfortunately won't be there -- they booked a Carnival cruise instead.

But we plan to talk about Sunny -- a lot. My sister was born in 1948 and was mothered by Sunny when she was much younger than the 41 year old lady who gave birth to me in 1961.

We each inherited a lot from her -- her charm, and usually bright and friendly disposition. I also got more of a highly defined passive aggressiveness.  But hey -- what are ya gonna do?

My Dad declared he wanted to be in the ocean because he hated cemeteries and the funeral business. He used to say -- if we wanted to mourn and remember him -- do it at the beach, which he loved. Mom agreed -- and their spirits (and cremains, such as they are) travel the world.

We'll be, this Monday, right on the Pacific -- our hotel is even called the Half Moon Bay Beach House.  Mom and Dad were married in California -- in Pasadena. That's where my family's story truly began -- as WW II was raging about -- two good looking children of Eastern European immigrants had a US Army rabbi marry them at the Huntington Hotel.

So my California sister, her son and daughter in law, and Wifey and I, will honor Sunny, and raise a glass to the love she gave as she raised us. We will never forget her.

How Time Slips Away

A new restaurant opened next to UM, in a place that was KC Cagney's when I started college. Cagney's was one of those late 70s/early 80s "fern bars," a then upscale looking place where you could take a date and get a beer and burger on a college budget.

So a brew pub replaced it recently. I got an ad from them today -- inviting me to their TWENTIETH ANNIVERSARY party! Two decades sprinted by somehow.

Time relativity is apparent to anyone who pays attention. In college being told something was 6 months in the future seemed like saying it would happen next century. Now -- 6 months seems about a week long to me.

I try to mark the milestones in life. I used to pride myself on remembering when stuff happened -- it gets harder to do as the years roll by.

On Monday, I'll see my California sister for the first time in awhile. I was trying to remember when we were last together -- was it before our Mom died, in 2013? No -- FaceBook (tm) came to the rescue -- it showed a photo from three years ago of all of us in Sonoma -- we met there with her boy Henry and his wife Val, and then caravaned to Half Moon Bay. It was 2016 -- three years in the past.

Wifey and I will take the same route this weekend -- Sonoma, for our friends' 25th wedding anniversary get together, and then Half Moon Bay for the family reunion.

Wifey always remembers meeting my nephew at MIA, in 1984. He was an impossibly blonde, beautiful baby -- she called him a Swedish meatball. Henry was less than a year old -- my sister came for a Florida visit with him and his then toddler brother, PJ.

Somehow Henry is now 34, and a wildly successful owner of a media company in the Bay Area, married to his beautiful and lovely and intelligent high school sweetheart. Again -- those years flew by somehow.

Yesterday I got a call from John, a retired cop and traffic accident consultant. We share the same July birthday, though he was born one year later. He called to say he was officially an old man -- his daughter was pregnant. She's nearly finished with her training to be an OB/Gyn -- I asked if she needed help finding a good doctor. John laughed -- she was under the care of her colleagues in Virginia.

John has had two near fatal heart attacks -- he has a congenital problem, and still pursues vigorous activities like motorcross. To him, each day is precious.

To me as well. I have a morbid habit -- I share with my friends, particularly Barry, tales I hear about guys our age or nearly so who died. It's my way of whistling past the graveyard.

The other night, I was wondering if I could figure out whether I got the proper measles vaccine, since the once eliminated disease is making a comeback thanks to moron anti-vaxxers, as they're called.

I researched my Long Island pediatrician, Dr. Bernard Curtis. I still remember his courtly and calm manner. His name popped up in a book I wish I had written: "Famous People Who Dropped Dead."  Dr. Curtis wasn't famous, but I guess he was pretty well known on LI.

Turns out he was seeing patients at Long Island Jewish Hospital, the place I was born, and dropped of a heart attack. He was 58. My friend Kenny pointed out -- no problem -- he was older than us. I turn 58 in less than three months.

Time really DOES slip away.

Car Dealers Truly Are The Worst

So for the past 6 years, Wifey and I have leased Lexuses -- me the mid sized sedan, and the SUV for her. I met a saleswoman at our local dealer who I'll call Patty, since that's her name, and it has been pleasure to deal with her. I leased 4 different cars from her, and referred her 3 customers, all of whom got cars, too.

Well, Wifey's lease was up in June, and it occurred to me she only had 15K miles on the vehicle. I looked up what it cost to buy, and then looked up what a 3 year old RX cost, and found that it was about $3K cheaper to buy the car we already had.  So I made the decision to buy the SUV, and contacted Lexus of America to send a check. Ha. As if.

Turns out they now make you deal with the dealership, which raised my skeptic antennae. Turned out I was correct.

I called Patty and she told me to come in at 11. I did, bringing the vehicle and check book. They had to check the odometer, because otherwise I might defraud myself, and also did a credit check since I was paying with a personal check, notwithstanding they've known me for years and have never missed a single payment. Whatever.

And then Patty handed me the sales sheet. The correct payoff price was there, along with 7% sales tax, and a few hundred bucks for "electronic document filing." It was BS, but I let it go. And then I saw a charge for "dealer fee" of $899.  Nope -- I told Patty -- not going to pay this. She tried to nicely explain that it was "normal procedure," and then called the older, gringo sales manager over to explain it more.

I listened patiently and then told the fellow that I had a contract with Lexis of America that said at the end of the lease, I could either turn in the car or buy it for a set price. Nothing in the contract said anything about the $899.  I told him I was sure the issue was not with his dealership (of course it was) but rather the national company, and that I was going to my office to write them demanding they honor their contract.

Patty and George said goodbye, and I walked to the car. As I was making a call, there was a tap -- Patty asked me to come back in, and because I "was such a great customer," they would "eat" this "required charge."

I did so, and still waited an hour for paperwork, but finally left owning the vehicle I had leased for the past three years.

The point is -- there is no such thing as a car salesperson who is a "friend," or "honest."  This place blatantly tried to steal nearly $1000 from me -- just because they thought they could.

But -- I try to turn fraud into fraud-aid, and I have a call into a friend who handles class actions. I think I may have stumbled onto one, and being a lead plaintiff might be a fun gig.

Of course, they also tried to sell me the extended warranty. Everything I have ever read agrees those are enormous ripoffs. Like an idiot, I once bought one for my yellow T Bird, a third car I thought I'd keep for many years. I paid $700 for the warranty, and when I had an issue with the T Bird's convertible top, of course there was a hidden deductible. I swore then never to buy another one of those.

But -- Wifey now has a new SUV, with barely more than 15K miles.  It really is a very nice vehicle -- I was playing with the navigation while stuck in traffic last night.

And my sedan has another 1.5 years left on its lease. When it's up, I think I'll be headed to North Miami, to the other Lexus dealer in town. They'll probably try some sleazy stuff, too, but at least that dealership has free gourmet coffee and bagels...

Two Tall Women

So yesterday D1 woke up after a rough night -- nothing too serious, but her loving man Joey doesn't like to leave her alone when she's unwell. Within the hour. Joey's Mom Jackie, on her way to her business, had dropped off chicken soup and potatoes, and fresh fruit. She offered to stay with D1.

Wifey was sleeping in, but upon waking, also sprung into action -- driving to Shorecrest to spend the day with sleeping D1. D1 hates being alone when she's sick -- directly opposite to D2 and me -- we both prefer to be left alone --figuring we'll either die or get better, and want to be alone to do either.

We make a lot of fun of Wifey and the fact that she doesn't work, or cook, or do many domestic things, but when her family needs her, she is the best. She drops everything to literally run or fly to the Ds -- whether it's to help D1 with the spoiled Spaniel, or D2 moving into and organizing a new apartment. And through the fun making, the Ds love her dearly, and know they can depend on her, no matter what.

D1 has a friend who married a rich guy, and HIS mother lives closeby and can rarely be bothered to help babysit, or do other mother in law duties.  She jokes, (the older woman) that she gives great phone -- in other words, she will always answer questions and direct others by phone, but don't ask her to show up.

That's too bad. Love is action; not words.

Today is Jackie's birthday, and I posted the video of James Taylor's "Shower the People With Love" video on FaceBook (tm) in tribute to her. Jackie is an amazingly loving and giving woman. Her three sons adore her, as do D1 and her other daughter in law Vera. The youngest boy, Alan, is single, and someday his wife will luck out, too, in the suegra department.

Jackie  had us over for first seder, and it wasn't an obligatory sort of thing -- every guest in their house was made to feel like family.

I tell D1, and she already knows, that she won the suegra lotto. Jackie adores her -- as much as she does her sons.  And Wifey is in that number, too.

Anyone who knows me knows my Ds are sacred to me. And by extension, those who love and treat them well become sacred, too.

It's sadly rare to find that these days. People live selfishly in their own snow globes -- they might say they care about families, but truly, when it comes crunch time, don't.

I'm a lucky guy, in life, and my luck increased exponentially when both Ds chose their men. D2's suegros David and Lizbeth adore their kids, too, and fly to California and Toronto to visit them, and be there in support.

So today, I wish a very healthy and happy birthday to an amazing Colombian Jewish woman who is our family. May she PASS 120, and continue to do what she does better than anyone: shower the people she loves with love, and show them the way she feels...

Passover '19

So WAZE told me it would take 50 minutes to drive to D1's in laws for the first seder. WAZE was wrong. It was Good Friday, and so traffic was light, and Wifey and I breezed up there in about half an hour. I found a gas station and filled up, and then we parked down the street and waited a few minutes -- as Wifey correctly points out, no one wants to be the first guests to arrive.

Fortunately, my fellow gringo Rick was on time, and after he and Susie pulled in, so did we.

 Jacqui invited us in. They're wonderful hosts. Soon all three of their sons and both daughters in law were there, followed by cousin Rachel and her three lovely daughters from Mexico City. Another cousin, Ernesto, also arrived.

We toasted with vodka, gin, and wine. Vera, D1's sister in law, had said she really enjoyed the Stag's Leap I served her TDay. I brought another bottle, and she and he man Bob enjoyed it.

The seder was lovely. My son in law Joey wrote an updated Hagadah last year, in honor of his late grandfather, who is his namesake. We took turns reading, which took about 20 minutes, and then we feasted on salmon, brisket, wild rice, salad, and grape leaves. Dessert was halvah Wifey bought (she's now the halvah-back girl), and Susie's delicious mousse and cake (she owned a gourmet bake shop in Lima, and it shows).

Everyone smiled. Everyone laughed. There was no squabbling. One of the Mexican girls spilled wine on the floor. Jacqui laughed at it. It was delightful.

At the end,  the family did  two Sephardic traditions. The first was having everyone say, while holding matzoh, where they were from, and where they were going. The latter answer is "Jerusalem," which is how all seders end "Next year in Jerusalem."

The second tradition is taking the affikomen, the special matzoh, and cutting it into small squares, which are then wrapped in paper and taped up, and given to each guest as a lucky talisman for the year. I dutifully turned my piece from last year, and accepted the new one. I noted that no trucks had run me over during the past year -- so the thing works. You can't argue with success...

We said goodbye, and Wifey drove home through the rain -- with me as a navigator. We got home around midnight. It had been a delightful evening.

Yesterday I slept in, and got a text from Josh, my nephew of another mother. He had dropped his brother, in for Passover, at MIA. Did we have plans? We did not, and he came over for some coffee. We caught up and compared seder notes, and then went to lunch. We tried Wagon's West, but they had a line, and defaulted to Flannagan's. He pulled my old trick -- feigned a bathroom break, and grabbed the check. I was proud of him, and even though never want him to pay, was gracious and thanked him.

At 630 we walked over to Lili and Jeff's -- hosting us for dinner, along with Loni and Mike. Jeff made a delicious salmon, and I brought another bottle of Stag's Leap.

The three of us dudes met in '83, as we started law school, and our humor goes back to that time, except in the 80s no one was discussing prostate glands or sleep studies. Wifey told the group that our Ds had staged an intervention last year -- they wanted her checked for early onset dementia, which, was, thankfully, negative, and we all laughed until we cried. It had come to this, then.

Lili made and served her famous flourless chocolate cake. We polished off another 2 bottles of wine Lone had brought, and we called it another lovely night.

Today is Easter Sunday, which means the Palace will be packed with visitors. Wifey and I will visit late -- after the crowd is gone. It's an impossibly gorgeous Sunday -- temps in the 60s, and bright sun.

We have one final Passover event -- Rabbi Yossi and Nechama invited us over Thursday, at their house. We agreed, and will get to see their kids, all nine of them.  With that we will say adios to the unleavened days -- we get on a plane Friday night for SFO.

But this year was a banner Passover. We're so blessed with who D1 married...

The Travel Bug

So I have been positively peripatetic lately, and more is to come. Wifey really, really wants to travel - her main longing is to go to China.

I have less than zero desire to go there. In this way, I am NOT my mother's son -- she wanted to go ever since she was a little girl and read Pearl S Buck's "The Good Earth." Sunny got to go -- after my Dad died. I think she might have gone a second time, but my memory has become a bit hazy.

Wifey thought the trip was going to be on. Her BFF Edna had always shown little interest in China, but then had a change of heart. The two started talking about their trip, but then Edna's husband said no -- she wasn't allowed to go without him. So much for that chance...

I really, really love it here. I have seen as many churches and synagogues as I wish to. Museums are museums. I love short trips -- especially if they involve watching the Canes play -- but really don't have a desire to go anywhere else.

Wifey is talking about Central Europe -- Prague, Vienna, and Budapest. I was with the Ds in the second two, and would go if I HAD to. Wifey is also talking about Portugal. I've never been there, but watched a Rick Steve's piece about it, and thought "Eh."

But then my bug was stirred a bit today. I watched a video of the great Jimmy Cliff, singing "I Can See Clearly Now."  It reminded me that Negril was always on my list.

Wifey and I honeymooned in Jamaica, in January of '87. All we could afford was 4 nights at Half Moon Bay, in Montego Bay. I loved Jamaica, and wished I could stay longer.

On the Air Jamaica flight home, I sat next to a fellow, from the Midwest. He had a Panama hat, and was the picture of chill. He told me he had sold a business in, I think, the Twin Cities, and just spent two weeks in Negril. He went on and on about the place -- it was the best place he had ever been, and he had traveled the world. I never forgot that guy, and his tales planted a seed that still grows, albeit slowly, in my travel center.

Wifey never wants to return to a place she has already been, although she has never been to Negril. I have a feeling she won't share my enthusiasm.

But I guess it's healthy that I at least want to go SOMEWHERE that doesn't involve friends' events -- like the upcoming trip to Sonoma, for Ken and Joelle's anniversary, or the trip to D. C. for my nephew Scott's graduation.

Speaking of travel -- I watched the fire at Notre Dame the other day. It was sad -- an old building burned down. But the comments on social media were akin to a major loss of human life. Por Favor!

I mean -- I was sad when they knocked down the Orange Bowl, and my Canes won FOUR rings there, as opposed to zero championship games for Notre Dame Cathedral. But it's a building -- and last time I read, the Catholic Church was worth many billions -- seems like they can afford to restore place.

Our local satiric site the Plaintain said all the FB posts were peoples' way of saying "I visited France."

Also in the news, a Miami girl obsessed with Columbine flew to Colorado and bought a shotgun. It's almost the 20th anniversary of that shooting.  Everyone thought she was planning a reprise of the shooting. Instead, she just shot herself, not too far from the school. Alas -- why can't all of these people do it that way -- instead of killing innocents first.  As a wise friend once said -- too bad murder suicides can't be suicides first.

So we'll see about the travel thing. First thing's first: a short trip tomorrow to Shorecrest, to D1's suegras, for Passover. There'll be singing, drink, laughter, and loving togetherness. Who needs to travel far for that?

Matzah Man Is Comin' To Town

It's that time of the year again, when a Jew's thoughts turn to the unleavened.  The first seder is this Friday.

For the second year in a row, we have been invited to D1's suegros, in Shorecrest. They're Sephardic, which means the food is better than the Jewish soul food of my youth. It's tough to admit, as a card carrying Ashkenazi, but the truth is their food is truly superior.

More importantly, D1 married into an amazingly warm and loving family. Her suegra Jackie adores her -- the two of them get together often. Jackie has three sons, and always longed for a daughter, and in her first son's wife, Vera, and now D1, she is all set.



So Wifey and I will be driving up to spend the holiday with folks we truly adore.

Second seder we were supposed to be attending the Rolling Stones concert up at Joe Robbie, but Father Time finally caught up with Mick Jagger, and he needed heart surgery. They're going to reschedule the tour.

Instead, Jeff and Lili have invited us over. Lili is cooking, and I am bringing some fine wine -- we will celebrate together, but not with a formal seder. One is kind of enough for me, anyhow.

This year Easter coincided with the third day of Passover. They're often pretty close, since the Last Supper was a seder for Jesus, but it's nice when they completely overlap. Everyone is in a festive mood.

Meanwhile, I have completed 1/2 of my planned 4 trips. I have checked off Chicago and NYC. Coming in a few weeks are the Bay Area, and in May, Maryland. The Bay Area begins in Sonoma -- Ken and Joelle are celebrating their 25th wedding anniversary by renting a house, and taking us all on a passport wine tour -- we visit a bunch of wineries and sample the wares. There will be a total of 4 couples attending -- ought to be a fine time.

And then I have a rental car to take Wifey and me to Half Moon Bay, the town of my nephew Henry and his wonderful wife Valerie. And -- my sister Sue is meeting us -- we haven't seen each other in several years -- and we plan a great family reunion.

Then we have a graduation trip. Scott, my nephew of another mister, is graduating Maryland's J School, and we're going up to celebrate with his family. Barry has a great dinner planned in Georgetown for Friday night, and we have Friday to explore D.C.  We haven't been in years -- and Spring is the best season to visit.

So the matzah is ready -- I got a few boxes of the serious stuff from a few Chabad Rabbi friends -- and we shall break it on Friday.

I wish D2 and Jonathan could be with us, but they'll be sharing unleavened fun with close friends in NYC. Maybe someday we'll all be together full time.

Springtime in New York

So Wifey and I Ubered to MIA on Thursday, and I had a great talk with our driver -- here from Cuba only 6 years and already a master of English. He had studied in Cuba, and we talked politics -- he reiterated why Cubans tend to the right -- they know first hand the horrors of the left. I told him we were headed to NYC where there was a statue of Jose Marti -- he had no idea. He planned to visit.

We had breakfast at Centurion, and then a lovely flight to LGA. LGA truly is an embarrassment -- the airport in Bogota is totally superior -- but they're finally building a new place -- with NYC's corruption and unions, it should be ready in 30 years.

We checked into the Edition, our favorite place near D2 and Jonathan, and walked to their apartment. Jonathan's parents were in town, too, and his sister Eva and her husband Yoni joined us -- the 8 of us crammed into the 500 square foot, Greenwich Village one bedroom.

We walked to an Italian place, and had a lovely dinner. Afterwards we said adios to Eva and Yoni -- but knew we'd see Jonathan's parents the next day.

We did -- met at La Contenta, a great Mexican place across 11th street from D2 and Jonathan. The staff knows them there. Jonathan's Mom Lizbeth asked for music, and a lovely woman serenaded us with Spanish songs, accompanied by a guitar. It was a most romantic lunch.

Jonathan's parents headed up to Midtown for a nap, and we walked to the Hudson -- sat by the river in a lovely park and talked of life.

Later Friday night: more eating! We went to another Italian place in the Village -- an old townhouse with a skylight, and feasted. It had been a banner, wonderful day, and we celebrated both families together -- and talked about the upcoming wedding of D2 and Jonathan -- in January back home in South Beach.

Wifey's friend Sheryl was in town from Boston, and we met her, and her man Mark and NYC son Andrew at the Walker Hotel -- for tea. It was a nice nightcap to a wonderful Friday.

Saturday Wifey slept in -- to nearly 11 am, and we woke and checked out of the hotel. We walked to D2 and Jonathan's street, and met for brunch at a Middle Eastern place. We were joined by D2's dear friend Ali, and her fiance Blake. They're getting married in the Bahamas in June, and shared tales of their upcoming party. D2 and Ali, and two other ladies, Ashley and Catherine, met as freshman at UF, and are still very close friends. 3/4 are now engaged -- all to terrific men, and Ashley, the 4th, has a long term boyfriend, too. She just moved to SF to live with him -- we're thinking she'll complete the circle and marry Kyle, too.

Ali is a child life specialist at Mt. Sinai Children's Hospital, and has a therapy dog, professor, a huge retriever mix who received $20K worth of specialized training in Georgia. Professor sat happily at our table, and then we returned to the apartment, where he took turns calming all of us. The dog is truly amazing -- gentle for such a big guy, with deep, soulful eyes. Unfortunately, he's not going to the Bahamas for the wedding, though Ali and Blake looked into it.

Professor and his parents left, and Wifey fell asleep on the couch. After she woke, we walked back to Madison Square Park, where they have a dog section. D2 and Wifey had a great time watching the parade of breeds. Jonathan and I talked sports and work.

We walked back to the hotel, and waiting there were three more AEPhi girls and their husbands/fiancees. It seems NYC is crawling with young Gators.

It was time to go. We hugged D2 and Jonathan, and were off in a Lyft to LGA. We usually leave NYC Sunday, and learned that Saturday the airport is blissfully empty. It was a pleasure to depart that way.

We arrived home to happy dogs -- my sister of another mister Mirta had house and dog say -- and introduced the pups to her new mini dog --- a 4 pound Morki named Molly. The Special Needs Spaniel and strange rescue dog reported no negatives about Molly. We'll meet her soon.

So I'm now halfway done with my 4 trips -- Chicago and NYC. Still to come: Bay Area, and finally Washington, D.C.

A time to go; a time to stay home. That's the essence of life.

The Grateful Living

We've been blessed with gorgeous weather lately -- and we know that the Summer Miami heat and humidity will be here soon enough. But not yet...

As a result, I've been spending a lot of time outside. Yesterday I took TWO walks through my 'hood, marveling at the tropical foliage in all its glory. The last of the tab blooms were there, along with the impossibly bright bougeanvillea flowers -- purple, red, white.  It was a quiet Saturday and I saw no other humans -- only a very large peacock who was not at all afraid of my approach -- I could have easily grabbed him, given him to a landscape guy, and they'd have had a nice meal of pavo royal (royal turkey, as they call them).

When I came home, Wifey joined me at the pond, asking all kinds of questions about the fish and turtles. I made believe I knew the answers -- which koi fish came from where, how long certain turtles have lived in the pond.

The truth is, some of the turtles may well have been here the entire time we've lived here -- they come and go as they please, making the pond their base. Our old Basset Hound, Molly, used to find errant turtles in the back yard and howl at them. I'd pick them up and plop them back into the water.

We sat there for a long time -- Wifey picking weeds from the rocks, and me watching the fish swim around. I told Wifey I had seen a pretty large snake in the area where she tends to sit at night. She said that would scare the hell out of her -- but they typically avoid people.

This am, I brewed my second cup of coffee, and sat on the front porch while the dogs explored the yard. The sun was warm and soft on my skin.

I recalled my dear Mom. When I would come to Miami Jewish for a visit, as soon as I wheeled her outside, she would look at the sun, and say "Thank you, Mother Nature. The sun feels so wonderful on my skin!"  I asked her when she had abandoned her Judaism for secular humanism -- thanking the Earth Mother instead of the Big Man. She never seemed to understand.

I'd wheel her over to a gazebo, which was located under ancient oak and ficus trees. There was an ice cream vending machine there, and I would buy her a chipwich. She would eat it with such enjoyment -- saying it was the most delicious ice cream she had ever had.

Here she was, in a nursing home, wheelchair bound, and still grateful for each moment.

I'm blessed to have inherited her attitude.  And you have to be a true Eeyore to feel differently these days.

I thought I'd have another day of chilling -- Norman and Deb are due here at 6 to pregame for dinner. I had to explain to Wifey what pregame meant -- she thought we had decided to go see the Heat instead of dinner.

But Mike called -- the Canes are playing the third game against FSU at 1 -- would I meet him at Mark Light? I would -- haven't been to a Canes game yet this year, and they're playing great.

So more outside enjoyment. Arthur Bach was asked in the movie what it was like to be amazingly rich. His answer is the same I would give about enjoying these days: it doesn't suck.

Good Eatin'

I don't like buying stuff. I have two kind of expensive watches -- a Rolex I bought used just to have it, and a Breitling my friend Joel gave me after he found it in the lawyer's locker at the Dade County Jail.  I dress, well, not that great -- jeans and untucked shirts, unless I absolutely have to wear a suit for a funeral or wedding.

But I DO enjoy going out to nice restaurants, and last week we did it up. Saturday Wifey and I met Ken and Joelle at Ad Lib, a place in the Gables that used to be Swine, and before that Les Halles. We had a great meal -- and it was about $75 per person, well worth it.

On Tuesday night, after my haircut in South Miami (my long time stylist Dania moved to South Miami after being in the same Pinecrest shop for 19 years), I called Wifey and we met at Salvatore D -- our go to, fancy Italian place on Sunset. I had a lovely martini, and while buzzed, Wifey told me she is jonesing to take a Europe trip this Fall. She loves to travel. I can take it or leave it.

I have a strong sense I'll end up missing a few Canes games so we can eat Sacher tortes in Vienna this Fall. She also wants to visit Budapest, and Prague. I've never been to Prague -- I'm sure they'll have some unusual old buildings there to visit. Whatever...

Thursday we met D1 and Joey, at a place Norman had found:Silverlake Bistro. It's close to their house, and since they both run around like headless chickens, we agreed to meet there -- it was only 35 minutes from my office, where Wifey picked me up.

The young folks loved the food, which was delicious, and I drank a local beer with a great name: Tourist Trappe. Joey and I toasted with it -- D1 had a glass of wine, and Wifey stuck to water.

Tomorrow night we had plans to go with Deb and Norman to the restaurant at the Betsy -- they'd been wanting to try it -- Norman's Dad was the hotel bookkeeper back in the day, and D2 and Jonathan will marry there in January. We had reservations, but I saw an article about South Beach Pride Weekend -- a huge parade will close down Ocean Drive Sunday -- they're expecting 150K people. We thought maybe that's not a gridlock we needed to get into -- so Deb audibled, and we're going instead to Fiola, a great place on the South Miami/Gables border.

I've had lunch there with D2 and a few weeks ago with Paul. The place is the sort of public clubhouse of the Bacardi patriarch -- it's in Bacardi's new HQ, along with his buddy Dickenson, the retired CEO of Royal Caribbean Cruises. They put a TON of money into the place. I look forward to dinner there with our good friends -- especially so we can talk of Norman's plans as new Dean of UM Law.

Ha. My April Fool's joke lives on -- even yesterday people were still congratulating him. People don't read carefully -- his disclaimer is all over his FaceBook (tm) page.

Good thing I've been exercising -- at least I burn off some of the rich restaurant food. And, as the late Mr. Food used to say --it's soooo good...

HOA

So two days passed since one of my all time best April Fool's Day pranks, and the prank continues:  people on my friend Norman's FaceBook (tm) page continued to congratulate him on becoming UM Law's new Dean.  The thing is, he posted that it was my prank, but clearly people don't read well.

As we've seen with the Trump administration, baldfaced lies somehow become accepted as truth. Maybe next week Norman will call me from campus to tell me he has indeed become Dean. The way the school has been falling in the rankings, it could only help.

Last night Wifey and I walked over to neighbors Ann and Mark's house, where they graciously hosted the annual HOA meeting -- for the second year in a row. No one else volunteered to have the people over. We hosted the HOA party in '01, and it was a great time, but Wifey said we could do it again in 81 years -- after each other homeowner (we have 82 houses in our enclave) had taken their turn.

We gathered, and it was the first time since our vice president Ben had died suddenly in February that we saw his widow Gloria. She was doing well -- very strong woman.

I caught up with Brian, our neighbor and a fine ENT doc, who has examined me and given me the great news that I don't have throat cancer. He's a LI transplant like I am, and we always compare notes on the LI-Miami connections -- though he's a Catholic school grad and I went to public school.

I guess a little under than half the houses were represented, and we gathered in Ann and Mark's living room for the actual meeting.

We are SO lucky. There has been essentially zero crime, except for the occasional case of people leaving their car door unlocked and losing some change or sunglasses left inside. The only points of contention are a few local speeders, and, the peafowl.

We quickly discussed the peafowl -- nothing to do. You can't kill them, and our neighbor Joe, who is also Pinecrest mayor, explained that while a farm up in Palm Beach County will take the birds, no one is really qualified to trap them.

I reminded everyone of the kerfuffle that we had about 7 years ago. We voted to remove the birds, and then a company came in which darted them before picking them up. Our neighbor Dawn, very high strung, said that her 4 year old was traumatized seeing the "pretty blue bird" go down. So we had ANOTHER vote, and this time the outcome was to leave the critters be.

I wondered about the now high school aged girl -- hopefully doing well with a minimum of psychotherapy...wherever she is.

The local speeders were another story. Neighbor Roberta wanted speed bumps installed -- and Mayor Joe explained that was no mean feat -- it required traffic studies -- and he doubted our enclave was busy enough to qualify.

We then turned to our FHP trooper -- could he ticked the scofflaws? He could, he explained, but really oughtn't -- he worried about liability, since while in our 'hood FHP acts as private security.

Could they just shoot the speeders? Not a good idea either, our trooper answered.

So after discussion, it was agreed the trooper WOULD follow the scofflaws home and politely ask them to slow down and quit ignoring a stop sign.

Our neighbors Roberta and Joan talked about nearly dying several times while walking at night. It turned out one of the worst incidents was when WIFEY nearly hit them. I told Roberta she had no idea about Wifey and cars...

Gloria talked about her late husband, as well as Bobbe Dooley, who died last year at nearly 95. Bobbe was the unofficial mayor of our 'hood -- she and her late husband Joe platted our enclave in the 50s, and lived here since. We talked about maybe naming a street after her -- we all thought it was a good idea, but it didn't seem anyone wanted to take the initiative to actually get it done.

We ended the meeting and hung around for dessert. I talked with Gloria -- she is going to stay in the 'hood.  We counted close to 10 widows who live here -- she won't be alone.  I told her Wifey is jonesing to move -- closer to D1 and Joey -- but we're putting the move off for awhile.

I really, really love living here, and fear the next place will be inferior. I guess time will tell.

But for now, we're taking subtle action against the speeders, and the peafowl will be left alone. We should all be lucky enough to  count these as our problems...

A Fool's Favorite Holiday

In these modern times, people are coming out as LGBT, or Q, or LatinX. I'm not even sure what some of these things are, but I have long self identified as a fool.  As a result, my favorite holiday is the one with my identifier in its very name: April Fool's Day.

Over the years, I perfected leaving messages at peoples' offices, making believe I was a "Mr. Fox" or "Mr. Baer," and having them call Zoo Miami. Of course, my victims would call and ask for "Mr. Fox," and the receptionist tired of this would say "I'm sorry -- Mr. Fox is busy -- would you like to speak to Mr. Giraffe?"

I would also tell friends and relatives that Wifey was pregnant. I once tallied it -- if she indeed WAS pregnant as often as I said, I would be the father of 20.  That prank got better the older Wifey was...

My meanest was telling D2 that her friend Amelia, who was very small, had shrunken over night -- was perfectly healthy, but was now about one foot tall. The girls were about 8 at the time. D2 thought it was very funny, but we're still not sure what future pathology this caused...

This year I felt especially creative. I posted on Norman's FaceBook (tm) page congratulations on his becoming Dean of UM Law. He of course played along -- promising more litigation skills and moving up the ranks.  A good number of his FB friends believed the joke -- congratulating him and saying the law school would be in great hands.

In reality, he WOULD do a better job than the current past Deans. We were always solidly ranked behind UF Law but ahead of FSU Law. That changed years ago -- we're now #3 in the state, and FIU, the upstart, is gaining on us. Norman could indeed reverse that trend -- but he couldn't afford the pay cut.

Jeff and I did PT together this am, and then had breakfast together -- something we rarely do. Wifey had wondered about the breakfast, so I told her that Jeff confided in me that his wife Lili was leaving him -- she had mentored a 35 year old attorney at her firm, things blossomed, and, well, you know. I told the whopper with subtlety, throwing in tidbits Wifey knew, like that Lili lost her mom at an early age and so feared premature death, so she simply could not pass up this chance for late blooming passion.

Wifey believed me for about 10 minutes, and then I pointed to a calendar showing it was April 1. I texted Jeff and Lili about the prank, and Lili was flattered that I gave her a lover more than 20 years her junior...

No -- Lebron is NOT returning to the Heat...

So my work for the year is done. I thought about targeting the Ds and their husband and fiance, but decided against it.  Everyone gets along extremely well -- I don't want to upset that precious apple cart.

I texted my law partners and roommates that the lawyer who betrayed us, whom I now call Fredo, had been suspended by the Bar for taking money from his trust account. I figured since they all knew he was flat broke (after he left he was served with a collection lawsuit for close to $100K from a credit card company) they might believe me. Alas -- Stuart -- my annual April's Fool victim/friend, immediately texted back "Fool me once..." I told him he was a spoil sport.

I'm already looking forward to April's Fool 2020. For fools like me, it's the high holiday.