My Dad was born May 29, 1919. He would have been 101 today. He died two months after turning 63 -- in 1982. I miss him every day.
My Dad was a self taught intellectual. One of his proudest accomplishments, other than his family, was the time he wrote a long letter to the NY Times columnist Russel Baker, and Baker wrote him back, praising his words. Dad truly regretted never getting a college education.
He did, most of the way to a Bachelor's degree, with me. When I would come home from UM, he would want to know details about my classes -- how the professors taught, their take on the world. My college years were some of my life's greatest, and a large part of that is because I got to share it with Dad.
I was privileged to have him as my best friend until 4 days before I turned 21. The day he died, I knew deep down I needed to become a man -- my Mom, who never balanced a check book, or paid a bill, needed me to. As I plodded my way through my senior year, and helping Mom, I would ask myself "WWHD" -- what would Hy do? I tried to act as best I thought he would have.
Dad got to know two of his grandchildren, and met a third when he was born. He never got to see my nephew Henry, nor my two Ds.
It's funny, though, my Ds feel like they know him. They grew up hearing about Grandpa Hy all the time.
One rainy morning, in our last house, I was on the family room couch reading the morning Herald. D1 must have been about 5, and she was snuggled up next to me. Her toddler sister and Wifey were asleep.
D1 looked up at me with her doe eyes, which are now the eyes of our grandson, and asked "Daddy -- would Grandpa Hy have loved me?" I started to cry, which made D1 hug me, and I told her there was zero doubt he would have...and did, from above.
Dad had many talents, but one of them was NOT being handy. I'm a little better than he was, but not much. The running joke in the family was that if something could not be fixed with scotch tape, it either didn't need fixing, or a professional needed to be called.
A few years ago, Wifey made me two lovely shadow boxes -- one with pictures and trinkets from my Mom, and another one for Dad. His US Army dog tags are in it, as well as a small watch my Mom gave him in 1942.
Recently, the little watch fell out, and I've kept it at my computer desk. Finally today, it was time to put it back with the rest of my Dad memorabilia. Sure enough -- I got some two sided tape, and stuck the tiny watch back into the box. And, for good measure, I got some Scotch tape, and taped the little window door shut. Dad would have been proud.
I miss him so. Happy birthday, Dad.
Friday, May 29, 2020
Thursday, May 28, 2020
Very Belated Sad News
Over my 34 years as a lawyer, I've had thousands of clients. Some stay in my memory. Two of those are Al and Julia.
We represented them when our firm was young, probably around '95. They were in a bad wreck with a truck out near Belle Glade where both taught at a very poor school. The truck was at fault.
Al was Italian, from NYC, and Julia a Miami Cuban lady. They were very close -- tried for years to have kids, but couldn't. But they were dedicated teachers, and this accident took them away from the classroom for most of a year -- very bad broken legs.
We had their lawsuit filed within days, and aggressively prosecuted it. We got them a very nice settlement probably 6 months later -- the insurer paid "retail" as we used to say in the biz. And they both recovered well.
They were so very thankful --telling us they were going to use some of the proceeds from the settlement to adopt a child. And they did -- their boy must be in college by now.
Sadly -- Al died several years back -- heart attack, I think. Julia and I re-connected on FaceBook (tm), and she would message me from time to time saying how great it was to watch me go through life's stages. She remembered me as a young lawyer, with little girls, and those girls had both finished grad school, and one was married.
Well, FaceBook sent me a reminder the other day -- it was Julia's birthday. I went to her page for a greeting, and saw someone had posted back in July -- Julia had died. I was shocked and saddened -- had it been nearly a year since we last connected? I guess it had. May she and her beloved Al rest in peace, and may their son soar...
On a happier note, D2 and Jonathan are hard into the house hunting thing. They're seeing lots of different Grove townhouses, wearing masks and not touching anything. They seem to be focusing on a gentrifying part of town -- now called the West Grove. It used to be called the Black Grove, but that is changing, as the area becomes much more mixed.
Developers are buying up the old houses, and building townhouses. The new construction is very solid -- all concrete, with impact glass, and the area is Zone X, so no floods, hopefully. D2 and Jonathan like that they can walk to the heart of the Grove in minutes, though the area isn't ready for nighttime strolls, I don't think. They are researching heavily -- crime stats, school ratings (Coconut Grove Elementary is an A school) -- and price comparisons.
Paul asked me what advice I would give them. I replied that I think I would find two young people with Masters in Business degrees and go with their suggestions. In other words -- D2 and Jonathan.
My Florida sister gave me a belly laugh, without meaning to, when I told her about this search process. She said it was very important to have a full bath on the first floor -- because as one has age related conditions, it may be hard to get up the steps. I replied that D2 and Jonathan are 28 -- the last thing they are thinking about is the decrepitude of aging.
My sister said she and my brother in law were younger when they bought their townhouse. I reminded them that they were already in their late 50s, and indeed Wifey and I, should we buy another place with stairs, would indeed consider these issues at our age. "Well someone could break a leg, you know." My sister doesn't give up a point easily...
It's a great time for a young couple. Wifey and I still clearly remember our first place. Our budget, in '86, was $120K, and we were thrilled to find a place we fell in love with for $86, 500. My mother had given each of her three kids $10K gifts, and we used ours for the down payment -- with money to spare!
Wifey and I wanted to buy in the Grove, but couldn't afford it. Our Kendall house, though, looked life it was in the Grove -- with an enormous banyan tree out front, and a lot of wood trim. The place was less than 1500 square feet, but we were so happy there with our dogs Midnight the Lab, and Alfred the Cocker. And, in November of '88, we brought home our beautiful baby girl to that house.
So I savor these times for D2 and Jonathan. They have their heads screwed on straight, as my late mother used to say, and will choose wisely.
Poor Julia no longer has issues like that to consider.
We represented them when our firm was young, probably around '95. They were in a bad wreck with a truck out near Belle Glade where both taught at a very poor school. The truck was at fault.
Al was Italian, from NYC, and Julia a Miami Cuban lady. They were very close -- tried for years to have kids, but couldn't. But they were dedicated teachers, and this accident took them away from the classroom for most of a year -- very bad broken legs.
We had their lawsuit filed within days, and aggressively prosecuted it. We got them a very nice settlement probably 6 months later -- the insurer paid "retail" as we used to say in the biz. And they both recovered well.
They were so very thankful --telling us they were going to use some of the proceeds from the settlement to adopt a child. And they did -- their boy must be in college by now.
Sadly -- Al died several years back -- heart attack, I think. Julia and I re-connected on FaceBook (tm), and she would message me from time to time saying how great it was to watch me go through life's stages. She remembered me as a young lawyer, with little girls, and those girls had both finished grad school, and one was married.
Well, FaceBook sent me a reminder the other day -- it was Julia's birthday. I went to her page for a greeting, and saw someone had posted back in July -- Julia had died. I was shocked and saddened -- had it been nearly a year since we last connected? I guess it had. May she and her beloved Al rest in peace, and may their son soar...
On a happier note, D2 and Jonathan are hard into the house hunting thing. They're seeing lots of different Grove townhouses, wearing masks and not touching anything. They seem to be focusing on a gentrifying part of town -- now called the West Grove. It used to be called the Black Grove, but that is changing, as the area becomes much more mixed.
Developers are buying up the old houses, and building townhouses. The new construction is very solid -- all concrete, with impact glass, and the area is Zone X, so no floods, hopefully. D2 and Jonathan like that they can walk to the heart of the Grove in minutes, though the area isn't ready for nighttime strolls, I don't think. They are researching heavily -- crime stats, school ratings (Coconut Grove Elementary is an A school) -- and price comparisons.
Paul asked me what advice I would give them. I replied that I think I would find two young people with Masters in Business degrees and go with their suggestions. In other words -- D2 and Jonathan.
My Florida sister gave me a belly laugh, without meaning to, when I told her about this search process. She said it was very important to have a full bath on the first floor -- because as one has age related conditions, it may be hard to get up the steps. I replied that D2 and Jonathan are 28 -- the last thing they are thinking about is the decrepitude of aging.
My sister said she and my brother in law were younger when they bought their townhouse. I reminded them that they were already in their late 50s, and indeed Wifey and I, should we buy another place with stairs, would indeed consider these issues at our age. "Well someone could break a leg, you know." My sister doesn't give up a point easily...
It's a great time for a young couple. Wifey and I still clearly remember our first place. Our budget, in '86, was $120K, and we were thrilled to find a place we fell in love with for $86, 500. My mother had given each of her three kids $10K gifts, and we used ours for the down payment -- with money to spare!
Wifey and I wanted to buy in the Grove, but couldn't afford it. Our Kendall house, though, looked life it was in the Grove -- with an enormous banyan tree out front, and a lot of wood trim. The place was less than 1500 square feet, but we were so happy there with our dogs Midnight the Lab, and Alfred the Cocker. And, in November of '88, we brought home our beautiful baby girl to that house.
So I savor these times for D2 and Jonathan. They have their heads screwed on straight, as my late mother used to say, and will choose wisely.
Poor Julia no longer has issues like that to consider.
Tuesday, May 26, 2020
This Here's a Working House
So we had a fine Memorial Day. D2 and Jonathan spent most of the day getting their large puppy outside when the rain abated. It rarely did -- the most 2 day rainfall in a decade. At one point, I noticed my pool overflowing, and sure enough, a small stream in the garage floor -- the only low point in our house.
I became a temporary engineer, and switched the pool pump to waste -- the water surged to an outdoor drain our architect owner/builder put in. As the pool level dropped, the garage flooding ceased. I was rather proud of myself...
As evening fell, young Josh asked for a video happy hour, before his grandmother, aunt, and uncle arrived for their first visit since quarantine. Jonathan, D2, and I obliged -- we Facetimed (tm) Barry and shared a toast. And then, the rain ceased. My weather app said we maybe had an hour before the deluge continued.
So I switched our cocktails to plastic cups, and D2, Jonathan, Betsy and I took to the streets. We actually got in over 4 miles, and buzzed, I introduced the trio to several neighbors, including one, David, from whom D2 had purloined some mangoes. He responded by tossing her a few more.
I was inspired with inebriation, and decided to pay an impromptu visit to Jeff and Lili's, to toast their girl Sam's recent med school graduation. I called Jeff and he came out. Alas, Sam was too shy -- so we toasted the proud parents instead, while Betsy wandered perilously close to their outdoor cats.
When we arrived home, delicious Thai food from Chana was waiting, and we ate, Citizen Kane style, on opposite ends of our 12 foot dining table. It was glorious...
Today I slept in to a record time: 7:30 am. I awoke at 1, and said to myself, oh hell no -- not going to miss sleep. So half a xanax later, I was blissfully in another world. It was refreshing.
I awoke to Jonathan having already taken Betsy for a morning walk, and then he and D2 retired to the library and dining room for their work days -- each on their laptops, and video chatting, etc...They toiled until lunch, and then I offered and made my new quarantine special: sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes, with egg scramble, in a healthy hash. Wifey and I put away the Instacart (tm) Publix order, and now all I have to do is watch the stock market, make some small trim moves to the accounts, and accept a Total Wine delivery between 2 and 3. I needed Hendricks and mezcal reinforcements, as well as some vodka. You can't survive the virus without these essential liquids, I have found.
So our houseguests will find out later if the ancient air handler was replaced, and their apartment is again habitable. If not -- no big deal. It's great having them here, and, it turns out, we have a nice platform for working from home. That -- and accommodating an enormous puppy...
I became a temporary engineer, and switched the pool pump to waste -- the water surged to an outdoor drain our architect owner/builder put in. As the pool level dropped, the garage flooding ceased. I was rather proud of myself...
As evening fell, young Josh asked for a video happy hour, before his grandmother, aunt, and uncle arrived for their first visit since quarantine. Jonathan, D2, and I obliged -- we Facetimed (tm) Barry and shared a toast. And then, the rain ceased. My weather app said we maybe had an hour before the deluge continued.
So I switched our cocktails to plastic cups, and D2, Jonathan, Betsy and I took to the streets. We actually got in over 4 miles, and buzzed, I introduced the trio to several neighbors, including one, David, from whom D2 had purloined some mangoes. He responded by tossing her a few more.
I was inspired with inebriation, and decided to pay an impromptu visit to Jeff and Lili's, to toast their girl Sam's recent med school graduation. I called Jeff and he came out. Alas, Sam was too shy -- so we toasted the proud parents instead, while Betsy wandered perilously close to their outdoor cats.
When we arrived home, delicious Thai food from Chana was waiting, and we ate, Citizen Kane style, on opposite ends of our 12 foot dining table. It was glorious...
Today I slept in to a record time: 7:30 am. I awoke at 1, and said to myself, oh hell no -- not going to miss sleep. So half a xanax later, I was blissfully in another world. It was refreshing.
I awoke to Jonathan having already taken Betsy for a morning walk, and then he and D2 retired to the library and dining room for their work days -- each on their laptops, and video chatting, etc...They toiled until lunch, and then I offered and made my new quarantine special: sauteed mushrooms and tomatoes, with egg scramble, in a healthy hash. Wifey and I put away the Instacart (tm) Publix order, and now all I have to do is watch the stock market, make some small trim moves to the accounts, and accept a Total Wine delivery between 2 and 3. I needed Hendricks and mezcal reinforcements, as well as some vodka. You can't survive the virus without these essential liquids, I have found.
So our houseguests will find out later if the ancient air handler was replaced, and their apartment is again habitable. If not -- no big deal. It's great having them here, and, it turns out, we have a nice platform for working from home. That -- and accommodating an enormous puppy...
Monday, May 25, 2020
Everything's Quiet on Memorial Day
And so it's Memorial Day, and it's been raining for three day's straight. So few Americans even realize the purpose of the holiday -- confusing it with Veteran's Day. Of course , so few of us in these modern times have relatives who actually died serving, and so for most, MD is the time of sales, barbecues, and the unofficial beginning of summer. I still recall my parents calling it "Decoration Day," which was the name before WW II.
But I always recall the true meaning. We're living in such stressful times, and want only to get back to our normal lives. That normal only exists because of the ultimate sacrifice of the military heroes. And true heroes they are.
D2 and Jonathan remain wonderful house guests. They went back to their condo Saturday to meet the repair guy, and, as feared, no part was found for the 70s era air handler. The repairman said it would be Tuesday, so they returned here. It's been wonderful having them -- even at the distance.
Wifey drove up to D1 and Joey's, to spend the night, so Wifey could perform her weekend nanny chores. D2 and Jonathan brought in dinner, and I had an adult beverage across the front porch. Their friends Ali and Blake Facetimed, in, and it was nice to hear from them, doing well from the original Upper East Side, in NYC.
Yesterday I drove up to see D1 and Joey and the gorgeous baby, and Wifey. I brought Bagel Emporium, and Joey and I watched some of the celebrity golf game. When everyone napped, I snuck out to the outdoor sofa, sprayed on some Cutter, and watched a few mosquitoes fly near, and make a u turn. I took a wonderful 40 minute nap, and the rain gently fell from the ancient live oaks. It was heavenly.
Last night, the rain seemed to lift a bit, and D2 and Jonathan really needed to give their enormous puppy some exercise. I joined them in a 4 mile walk -- the rain stayed at bay. Betsy is so well trained -- no leash needed on quiet streets. She did run to a local puggle, Zeus, but Zeus and his owner were fine with the greet up.
Wifey came home, and the younguns had ordered in some Anthony's Coal fired salads, pizza, and wings, and we sat apart and enjoyed the evening. D2 and Jonathan are house hunting, and we talked about all the moving parts that go into that big decision.
I think they're leaning towards a new townhouse, nearly complete, in a gentrifying part of the Grove. Jonathan has researched it well. It's near a park that, in the 80s and 90s, was nowhere to visit unless you wanted to buy crack cocaine, or get robbed trying to do so. But now that park is a happy, bustling place, with folks of all races enjoying its amenities.
Of course, we older, more protective parents would prefer they chose an already gentrified part of town, like Coral Gables, but the prices there are out of sight. We looked at a place for sale -- near Gables High -- not even a fine location. It was 1400 square feet -- asking price over $1M.
So they'll see...
Meanwhile, the rain still falls. It's stymied my long walks -- though I still sneaked in 5 miles yesterday. Maybe I'll get in a few miles today --I need it for my mental health, and the large visiting puppy needs to burn off some of that puppy energy.
But I know it's possible, all of this life, because of those who died fighting for our way of life. And I remember and honor them, on Memorial Day.
But I always recall the true meaning. We're living in such stressful times, and want only to get back to our normal lives. That normal only exists because of the ultimate sacrifice of the military heroes. And true heroes they are.
D2 and Jonathan remain wonderful house guests. They went back to their condo Saturday to meet the repair guy, and, as feared, no part was found for the 70s era air handler. The repairman said it would be Tuesday, so they returned here. It's been wonderful having them -- even at the distance.
Wifey drove up to D1 and Joey's, to spend the night, so Wifey could perform her weekend nanny chores. D2 and Jonathan brought in dinner, and I had an adult beverage across the front porch. Their friends Ali and Blake Facetimed, in, and it was nice to hear from them, doing well from the original Upper East Side, in NYC.
Yesterday I drove up to see D1 and Joey and the gorgeous baby, and Wifey. I brought Bagel Emporium, and Joey and I watched some of the celebrity golf game. When everyone napped, I snuck out to the outdoor sofa, sprayed on some Cutter, and watched a few mosquitoes fly near, and make a u turn. I took a wonderful 40 minute nap, and the rain gently fell from the ancient live oaks. It was heavenly.
Last night, the rain seemed to lift a bit, and D2 and Jonathan really needed to give their enormous puppy some exercise. I joined them in a 4 mile walk -- the rain stayed at bay. Betsy is so well trained -- no leash needed on quiet streets. She did run to a local puggle, Zeus, but Zeus and his owner were fine with the greet up.
Wifey came home, and the younguns had ordered in some Anthony's Coal fired salads, pizza, and wings, and we sat apart and enjoyed the evening. D2 and Jonathan are house hunting, and we talked about all the moving parts that go into that big decision.
I think they're leaning towards a new townhouse, nearly complete, in a gentrifying part of the Grove. Jonathan has researched it well. It's near a park that, in the 80s and 90s, was nowhere to visit unless you wanted to buy crack cocaine, or get robbed trying to do so. But now that park is a happy, bustling place, with folks of all races enjoying its amenities.
Of course, we older, more protective parents would prefer they chose an already gentrified part of town, like Coral Gables, but the prices there are out of sight. We looked at a place for sale -- near Gables High -- not even a fine location. It was 1400 square feet -- asking price over $1M.
So they'll see...
Meanwhile, the rain still falls. It's stymied my long walks -- though I still sneaked in 5 miles yesterday. Maybe I'll get in a few miles today --I need it for my mental health, and the large visiting puppy needs to burn off some of that puppy energy.
But I know it's possible, all of this life, because of those who died fighting for our way of life. And I remember and honor them, on Memorial Day.
Saturday, May 23, 2020
The Happy Innkeeper
I love hosting people at our house. Wifey does not share that with me. Years ago, when we were visiting Key West, like many people I said how great it might be to one day own and run a B and B there. Wifey replied "I don't even cook or clean for my own family -- you think I want to do it for strangers?" Yeah, so that path in life never grew legs, as they say...
Well, due to a broken AC unit, last night we had our first house guests since the plague.
D2 and Jonathan live in a 70s constructed building in the Grove, and apparently their landlord never saw fit to replace the air handler. As a result, when the unit stopped working, the repairman said parts for Nixon era units are a bit tough to find. They spent a sweaty Thursday night, and headed over here last evening.
We maintained STRICT social distancing. Wifey and I set up D2's old bedroom, which connects with D1's old room, now a library. There's a full bath between the rooms. Wifey gave them new linens, and I set up a bar in the library -- choice of vodka, Scotch, gin, or mezcal, along with a full ice bucket.
At 6, I attended Eric and Dana's family shabbat, and then at 7 Joey and D1 hosted a lovely kiddush, or sabbath toast. D2 and Jonathan were en route, and lost the Zoom connection, but Eric, Dana, Scott, and Wifey and I all enjoyed the company.
After the hosts left to put the beautiful baby to sleep, Scott wanted to continue the fun, and he FaceTimed us, bringing in Barry. Barry had been interviewed on public radio earlier, so there was much making of fun of our brother the media star.
D2, Jonathan, and their enormous puppy Betsy kept to one side of our large front porch, and Wifey and I to the other. It was delightful -- once I shared the mosquito repellent with everyone.
I actually stayed up past 10 -- way later than my typical, plague bed time.
Early this am I texted our guests that I was going for a walk, and would make breakfast after they awoke. They were already awake, and after some Nespressos, Jonathan and Betsy joined me for 3.2 miles around the 'hood.
Betsy is already so well trained, she heels without a leash. Smart, enormous puppy that Pyrador is...
We returned, and I made Jonathan my new variety of Daddy eggs -- a hash with mushrooms and tomatoes. He loved it. D2 only wanted a banana.
I wanted to hug them goodbye -- but such are the times with this damned virus -- I waved forlornly.
They were off to a dog training session in Doral. The trainer knows his stuff -- I can already see.
The repairman said he would hopefully restore the cool by today. Jonathan and D2 are a bit skeptical. I told them our casa is theirs as long as they need it. Betsy likes it more here, anyway...
Wifey is headed up to D1 and Joey's. I begged off -- my couch and 2 dogs await a long Saturday nap later.
I need my rest. I may still be an innkeeper later today.
Well, due to a broken AC unit, last night we had our first house guests since the plague.
D2 and Jonathan live in a 70s constructed building in the Grove, and apparently their landlord never saw fit to replace the air handler. As a result, when the unit stopped working, the repairman said parts for Nixon era units are a bit tough to find. They spent a sweaty Thursday night, and headed over here last evening.
We maintained STRICT social distancing. Wifey and I set up D2's old bedroom, which connects with D1's old room, now a library. There's a full bath between the rooms. Wifey gave them new linens, and I set up a bar in the library -- choice of vodka, Scotch, gin, or mezcal, along with a full ice bucket.
At 6, I attended Eric and Dana's family shabbat, and then at 7 Joey and D1 hosted a lovely kiddush, or sabbath toast. D2 and Jonathan were en route, and lost the Zoom connection, but Eric, Dana, Scott, and Wifey and I all enjoyed the company.
After the hosts left to put the beautiful baby to sleep, Scott wanted to continue the fun, and he FaceTimed us, bringing in Barry. Barry had been interviewed on public radio earlier, so there was much making of fun of our brother the media star.
D2, Jonathan, and their enormous puppy Betsy kept to one side of our large front porch, and Wifey and I to the other. It was delightful -- once I shared the mosquito repellent with everyone.
I actually stayed up past 10 -- way later than my typical, plague bed time.
Early this am I texted our guests that I was going for a walk, and would make breakfast after they awoke. They were already awake, and after some Nespressos, Jonathan and Betsy joined me for 3.2 miles around the 'hood.
Betsy is already so well trained, she heels without a leash. Smart, enormous puppy that Pyrador is...
We returned, and I made Jonathan my new variety of Daddy eggs -- a hash with mushrooms and tomatoes. He loved it. D2 only wanted a banana.
I wanted to hug them goodbye -- but such are the times with this damned virus -- I waved forlornly.
They were off to a dog training session in Doral. The trainer knows his stuff -- I can already see.
The repairman said he would hopefully restore the cool by today. Jonathan and D2 are a bit skeptical. I told them our casa is theirs as long as they need it. Betsy likes it more here, anyway...
Wifey is headed up to D1 and Joey's. I begged off -- my couch and 2 dogs await a long Saturday nap later.
I need my rest. I may still be an innkeeper later today.
Thursday, May 21, 2020
Silver Ferraris and Peahens With Chicks
So it was a pretty slow week here in my tropical version of Lake Woebegone. Wifey returned home Tuesday afternoon after her stint as a full time helper to D1 and the baby. We had a lovely homecoming -- she stopped for Shula's on the way home, and we ate and caught up.
I have officially become a full time walker. Each day this week, I got in at least 10 miles. Typically in the am I either walk with Jeff, or Josh, my nephew of another mister, texts that he's awake, and we chat while I walk the streets. I try to get in about 6 miles during the early session.
In the afternoon, about once per week Kenny drops by on his way home from work at Baptist, and we get in another 4 or 5. Yesterday, we had plans to meet, but the rain was threatening, so I sneaked out at 3 and got in my afternoon constitutional, before the rains came.
This am I got a vision that always brings me a smile: a peahen with her chicks walking around. The peafowl are controversial -- many neighbors hate them -- but it's tough not to appreciate a female with her blue or green head with her little gray chicks in a row behind her.
Also, today, Kenny came by for his replacement walk, and was treated to a peacock in full feather extension, trying to impress another hen. He took some photos -- he'll be headed to Maine next month, and can show the Mainers the exotic bird that's made Miami home.
We had a fine Zoom happy hour last night -- organized by Josh, at the suggestion of older brother Scott. Dr. Barry made it home early, and he and Josh appeared. Dr. Eric and HIS Josh were on as well, and then a special appearance: Norman and his youngest, Benjamin.
We all thoroughly enjoyed the company and laughter. Tomorrow night we have another -- the shabbos Zoom toast led by D1 and Joey, which last week extended for several more hours, with D2 and Jonathan. I hope that happens again.
The CDC came out with new guidelines, basically reversing older ones -- saying there's only a tiny chance of getting the virus by touching surfaces. The main route is droplets, which makes wearing a mask so important. I wore one earlier today for a silly errand.
Wifey and I were fast asleep at 4 am, when a piercing alarm sounded. Our central system's battery was low. I immediately wished they programmed it to tell you stuff like that during waking hours, but no...
I called the company, and they said, sure enough, I needed a new battery. No rush, but if I didn't replace it, the alarm would do the same tomorrow at 4 am, too. So I drove over to Arresco's office, near Miami Metro Zoo, and went inside -- just me and a very nice lady, wearing masks. I gave her the old battery for recycling, and took the new one. I've been their customer for 20 years -- the clerk knew our name, and said it was nice to finally meet. I told her I'm prettier without the mask.
I popped in the new battery, and hopefully no alarm at 4 am. It's tough enough to get enough sleep these days...
I have officially become a full time walker. Each day this week, I got in at least 10 miles. Typically in the am I either walk with Jeff, or Josh, my nephew of another mister, texts that he's awake, and we chat while I walk the streets. I try to get in about 6 miles during the early session.
In the afternoon, about once per week Kenny drops by on his way home from work at Baptist, and we get in another 4 or 5. Yesterday, we had plans to meet, but the rain was threatening, so I sneaked out at 3 and got in my afternoon constitutional, before the rains came.
This am I got a vision that always brings me a smile: a peahen with her chicks walking around. The peafowl are controversial -- many neighbors hate them -- but it's tough not to appreciate a female with her blue or green head with her little gray chicks in a row behind her.
Also, today, Kenny came by for his replacement walk, and was treated to a peacock in full feather extension, trying to impress another hen. He took some photos -- he'll be headed to Maine next month, and can show the Mainers the exotic bird that's made Miami home.
We had a fine Zoom happy hour last night -- organized by Josh, at the suggestion of older brother Scott. Dr. Barry made it home early, and he and Josh appeared. Dr. Eric and HIS Josh were on as well, and then a special appearance: Norman and his youngest, Benjamin.
We all thoroughly enjoyed the company and laughter. Tomorrow night we have another -- the shabbos Zoom toast led by D1 and Joey, which last week extended for several more hours, with D2 and Jonathan. I hope that happens again.
The CDC came out with new guidelines, basically reversing older ones -- saying there's only a tiny chance of getting the virus by touching surfaces. The main route is droplets, which makes wearing a mask so important. I wore one earlier today for a silly errand.
Wifey and I were fast asleep at 4 am, when a piercing alarm sounded. Our central system's battery was low. I immediately wished they programmed it to tell you stuff like that during waking hours, but no...
I called the company, and they said, sure enough, I needed a new battery. No rush, but if I didn't replace it, the alarm would do the same tomorrow at 4 am, too. So I drove over to Arresco's office, near Miami Metro Zoo, and went inside -- just me and a very nice lady, wearing masks. I gave her the old battery for recycling, and took the new one. I've been their customer for 20 years -- the clerk knew our name, and said it was nice to finally meet. I told her I'm prettier without the mask.
I popped in the new battery, and hopefully no alarm at 4 am. It's tough enough to get enough sleep these days...
Sunday, May 17, 2020
The Best Quarantine Weekend So Far
Friday night I caught up with Josh, my nephew of another mister, and then it was time for Dr. Eric's video shabbat, which I have the privilege of being invited to weekly. I drank my martini while the family said the blessing over wine, and sat outside watching the participants from Palm Beach County, New Jersey, old friend Robin and her husband, from Connecticut.
I then had a lovely, long Facetime with D2 and Jonathan and Betsy, and saw the new pup pictured next to D2. She's yuuuuge, as POTUS says. She's 60 lbs, and very tall, and with a coat that looks like she got highlights from a salon. I went to bed very happy.
Saturday I took a long early walk with Jeff -- he turned 59 the day before. We looked back over the decades -- we met when we were 22 and starting law school. That was 2 wives and 5 daughters, 3 sons in law, and one grandchild between the two of us. Wow, we just kept thinking...wow.
I then drove up to D1's, where I was told before I was NOT to get a haircut at my salon unless I wished to lose my status as an in person visitor. I agreed with D1, but WAS looking more and more like mid 60s Dylan, with my abundant, though grey, Jewfro.
Joey offered to cut my hair. He had never cut anyone else's, but Joey is the guy who, when he undertakes a task, does it carefully and well. So he poured us a couple of tall drinks, and set to work. And it was terrific! In fact -- probably more stylish (more hair left on top) than my usual job from Dania, who I have been using for the last 23 years.
We celebrated with a walk with the baby and D1 through their very cool 'hood -- houses from the 30s and even older next to Miami Vice inspired 80s jobs, and access, at streets' end, to Biscayne Bay. We walked up to Miami Shores, and a street I HAD been on -- North Bayshore Drive, where my friend Allison grew up. I texted her a photo of the 'hood, to hopefully bring her back to happier times...
Our dinner was Bagel Emporium salads I had brought, and I left in just a wonderful mood.
The strange rescue and special needs Spaniel seemed to say -- well -- that's nice, but what about us? When Wifey is able to walk, we take them both on a long course, with a dog stroller for the gimpy Bo, but without Wifey, I feel badly about taking the stronger dog while leaving Bo to whine pathetically. As I keep saying, I am no doggist...which is racist about certain dogs.
But last night I saddled both of them up, and took them on a short trip around the block. They really seemed to enjoy all the smells of the street they had been missing.
Today I did 5 miles before it got too hot, and then tossed the dogs into the pool for a bit of a chlorine bath and a little exercise. They dried, happily, in the sun.
Later, there was a very nice nap, to the Smithsonian Channel, which has a series called "Aerial " an extremely relaxing documentary of sites all over the world, with beautiful vistas and a very calming narration. I fell asleep high over Ireland -- last thing I heard was something about Oscar Wilde...
I caught up with both D families -- and hope for an afternoon walk. But, alas, quite a strong T storm is passing -- hopefully it will clear out and let me do another 5 miles before I sleep. I do have miles to go before I sleep...
So the plague continues to be awful, but as for my family and me -- we're making the best of it. There might be another virtual happy hour or two this week -- and hopefully Friday the Dr. Eric shabbos followed by the toast hosted by Joey. Eric calls it double dipping, and it's a highlight for these times.
And, it was adios Bob Dylan/Jerry Garcia/Albert Einstein/Doc Brown. Hello to a better groomed, quarantining Daddy in the USA...
I then had a lovely, long Facetime with D2 and Jonathan and Betsy, and saw the new pup pictured next to D2. She's yuuuuge, as POTUS says. She's 60 lbs, and very tall, and with a coat that looks like she got highlights from a salon. I went to bed very happy.
Saturday I took a long early walk with Jeff -- he turned 59 the day before. We looked back over the decades -- we met when we were 22 and starting law school. That was 2 wives and 5 daughters, 3 sons in law, and one grandchild between the two of us. Wow, we just kept thinking...wow.
I then drove up to D1's, where I was told before I was NOT to get a haircut at my salon unless I wished to lose my status as an in person visitor. I agreed with D1, but WAS looking more and more like mid 60s Dylan, with my abundant, though grey, Jewfro.
Joey offered to cut my hair. He had never cut anyone else's, but Joey is the guy who, when he undertakes a task, does it carefully and well. So he poured us a couple of tall drinks, and set to work. And it was terrific! In fact -- probably more stylish (more hair left on top) than my usual job from Dania, who I have been using for the last 23 years.
We celebrated with a walk with the baby and D1 through their very cool 'hood -- houses from the 30s and even older next to Miami Vice inspired 80s jobs, and access, at streets' end, to Biscayne Bay. We walked up to Miami Shores, and a street I HAD been on -- North Bayshore Drive, where my friend Allison grew up. I texted her a photo of the 'hood, to hopefully bring her back to happier times...
Our dinner was Bagel Emporium salads I had brought, and I left in just a wonderful mood.
The strange rescue and special needs Spaniel seemed to say -- well -- that's nice, but what about us? When Wifey is able to walk, we take them both on a long course, with a dog stroller for the gimpy Bo, but without Wifey, I feel badly about taking the stronger dog while leaving Bo to whine pathetically. As I keep saying, I am no doggist...which is racist about certain dogs.
But last night I saddled both of them up, and took them on a short trip around the block. They really seemed to enjoy all the smells of the street they had been missing.
Today I did 5 miles before it got too hot, and then tossed the dogs into the pool for a bit of a chlorine bath and a little exercise. They dried, happily, in the sun.
Later, there was a very nice nap, to the Smithsonian Channel, which has a series called "Aerial " an extremely relaxing documentary of sites all over the world, with beautiful vistas and a very calming narration. I fell asleep high over Ireland -- last thing I heard was something about Oscar Wilde...
I caught up with both D families -- and hope for an afternoon walk. But, alas, quite a strong T storm is passing -- hopefully it will clear out and let me do another 5 miles before I sleep. I do have miles to go before I sleep...
So the plague continues to be awful, but as for my family and me -- we're making the best of it. There might be another virtual happy hour or two this week -- and hopefully Friday the Dr. Eric shabbos followed by the toast hosted by Joey. Eric calls it double dipping, and it's a highlight for these times.
And, it was adios Bob Dylan/Jerry Garcia/Albert Einstein/Doc Brown. Hello to a better groomed, quarantining Daddy in the USA...
Wednesday, May 13, 2020
Injury Scare
So the many miles of walking have been a positive for me during the plague -- both for health, and battling anxiety.
I did my usual 10 miles yesterday, but when I came home, had pain in my right knee. Not horrible, but worrisome. Oh crap -- was this the end of my saving activity?
I read some sites,and concluded it was probably just a strained medial ligament, or maybe a bruised meniscus. I knew right away the most important thing was rest -- also ice. So indeed I iced it -- Wifey has a whole shelf of ice packs for her manifold ortho problems. And I knew I would spend today off the road.
Well -- I was miraculously blessed. The pain went away. To be safe, I'm going to keep resting -- and have kept up with the ice packs. But I'm pretty sure I can resume the constitutionals tomorrow.
I am going to attempt to host a Zoom meeting later -- with Josh G as back up if I mess it up. I plan to toast the ability to keep moving...
I did something else useful today: Jeff needed my Notary services, for a permit to resurface his pool. Keeping my Notary has been a surprisingly useful thing -- everyone always needs something notarized.
Twice per year, I get to use it to attest to the German government that my suegra is still alive, and thus continuing to get her Holocaust reparation check. She used to have to prove she was alive once a year, but the Germans, nothing if not efficient, realized the population the Nazis didn't manage to kill was, by old age, dying off.
I actually enjoy my own FU to Hitler and his minions each time I place the stamp. And now there's another generation of our people as the legacy of Survival.
Jeff's pool project lacks that gravity -- but I was still happy to help. We sat on opposite sides of our long picnic table outside and I did my work. I told him it was like a negotiation: he could have the pesada neighbor in exchange for the Freudian garbage obsessed one...
The models keep getting worse. Miami Dade is "opening" again Monday, and the numbers will therefore continue to get worse.
Still -- we have to keep living. My longtime haircutter Dania texted -- they're social distancing opening Monday. I asked for a first in the am appointment -- both of us wearing masks -- and will hopefully see her first thing next Friday.
The plan will be in -- 15 minutes of removing my Dylanesque mane -- and then getting out. There will be very few other customers there, Dania tells me. She is herself a germaphobe in the best of times. She reminded me to wear a mask. I told her I'd have a snorkel, too.
Crazy times, these. Crazy times.
I did my usual 10 miles yesterday, but when I came home, had pain in my right knee. Not horrible, but worrisome. Oh crap -- was this the end of my saving activity?
I read some sites,and concluded it was probably just a strained medial ligament, or maybe a bruised meniscus. I knew right away the most important thing was rest -- also ice. So indeed I iced it -- Wifey has a whole shelf of ice packs for her manifold ortho problems. And I knew I would spend today off the road.
Well -- I was miraculously blessed. The pain went away. To be safe, I'm going to keep resting -- and have kept up with the ice packs. But I'm pretty sure I can resume the constitutionals tomorrow.
I am going to attempt to host a Zoom meeting later -- with Josh G as back up if I mess it up. I plan to toast the ability to keep moving...
I did something else useful today: Jeff needed my Notary services, for a permit to resurface his pool. Keeping my Notary has been a surprisingly useful thing -- everyone always needs something notarized.
Twice per year, I get to use it to attest to the German government that my suegra is still alive, and thus continuing to get her Holocaust reparation check. She used to have to prove she was alive once a year, but the Germans, nothing if not efficient, realized the population the Nazis didn't manage to kill was, by old age, dying off.
I actually enjoy my own FU to Hitler and his minions each time I place the stamp. And now there's another generation of our people as the legacy of Survival.
Jeff's pool project lacks that gravity -- but I was still happy to help. We sat on opposite sides of our long picnic table outside and I did my work. I told him it was like a negotiation: he could have the pesada neighbor in exchange for the Freudian garbage obsessed one...
The models keep getting worse. Miami Dade is "opening" again Monday, and the numbers will therefore continue to get worse.
Still -- we have to keep living. My longtime haircutter Dania texted -- they're social distancing opening Monday. I asked for a first in the am appointment -- both of us wearing masks -- and will hopefully see her first thing next Friday.
The plan will be in -- 15 minutes of removing my Dylanesque mane -- and then getting out. There will be very few other customers there, Dania tells me. She is herself a germaphobe in the best of times. She reminded me to wear a mask. I told her I'd have a snorkel, too.
Crazy times, these. Crazy times.
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
More Rich White Folks Hi-jinks
So a source of great humor during the plague quarantine continues to be my privileged 'hood, and the denizens thereof. Today during my afternoon walk with Kenny, 2 reared their hilarious heads.
The first was the strange garbage lady. She had her panties all up in a bunch on Monday because neighbors were, gasp, putting their dog poop bags into her trash bin, and making the bin smell like, well, garbage AND dog poop. Jeff and I had great sport at her expense -- Jeff saying he had it happen but wouldn't dream of making a big deal of it, and me saying I pledged not to put any of Jeff's "accidents" in her bin. She was so out of breath with outrage, she didn't hear either snarky comment.
Well, today Kenny came for our constitutional, and this time the same nutcase was standing next to 2 large piles of tree trimmings. We get two free pickups of bulk trash per year, and people tend to use them for tree trimmings, or old furniture, etc...
The neighbor had strung each large pile with twine, as if she were fastening them to the roof of a car, and put up signs warning against "adding to her trash pile." And she stood sentinel next to them! It usually takes Solid Waste several days to get out to pick up the trash -- I wonder whether she plans to camp next to these piles.
Freud would have had a field day with her.
I typically don't scoop after my dog, but I'm tempted to do so now, just so I can toss the poop bag onto the top of the verboten tree pile. If Riva, oops, used her name, comes out screaming, I'd say I though the anti dog poop bag rule only applied to her BINS -- not tree trimming pile. Who can follow all these rules????
Exhibit two involves an octogenarian widow I'll call Edie, since that's her name. Her rich doctor husband had the decency to die years ago, leaving her set for life. We had one encounter with her, soon after we moved in. Wifey never forgot it.
D1 was on the Palmetto High dance team, and had to sell gift wrap as a fundraiser. Of course, every neighbor bought from the adorable 14 year old in the blue uniform. One neighbor, Arno, bought like $50 worth -- just to be the mentsch he still is. Well -- one neighbor didn't buy, and Wifey still recalls the encounter.
Edie, already very old, seemingly, 17 years ago, came to the door, and said "I can't be bothered with this now -- I have an upcoming appointment with my financial advisor." And shut the door.
Since then, I barely see the old bitch, and really thought she had died. She has emerged, taking walks around the 'hood.
After Kenny got to see the Freudian anal retentive Riva, we were making our way down 131 Street. I spotted Edie standing in a driveway next to her house. Hello, I bellowed, "gorgeous afternoon."
She said "You're taking up the whole street!" I thought she was just commenting on the fact that we were walking apart, and said "Well, we have to social distance." She said "You can walk behind each other" and I said "But then it's hard to talk."
I thought it a bit weird she was so interested in our walking placement, but then she blurted out "I can't get by! I HAVE TO WAIT!" Oh, so that was it.
I stopped, and put on my best Colonial British Indian accent. I bowed to her. "One thousand apologies, Edie. I had no idea we were in your way. I know there is no way I can ever replace the 30 seconds I have now stolen from your life, but perhaps you will forgive this trespass."
She snarled. "I know what social distancing is. But you took up the WHOLE STREET!"
I thought of my late, dear mother. She might have gone over and knocked the old crone over.
But again -- it gave Kenny and me laughter.
And I'm pretty sure Edie still wouldn't buy gift wrap for a good cause...
May these remain the biggest problems in our colorful neighborhood...
The first was the strange garbage lady. She had her panties all up in a bunch on Monday because neighbors were, gasp, putting their dog poop bags into her trash bin, and making the bin smell like, well, garbage AND dog poop. Jeff and I had great sport at her expense -- Jeff saying he had it happen but wouldn't dream of making a big deal of it, and me saying I pledged not to put any of Jeff's "accidents" in her bin. She was so out of breath with outrage, she didn't hear either snarky comment.
Well, today Kenny came for our constitutional, and this time the same nutcase was standing next to 2 large piles of tree trimmings. We get two free pickups of bulk trash per year, and people tend to use them for tree trimmings, or old furniture, etc...
The neighbor had strung each large pile with twine, as if she were fastening them to the roof of a car, and put up signs warning against "adding to her trash pile." And she stood sentinel next to them! It usually takes Solid Waste several days to get out to pick up the trash -- I wonder whether she plans to camp next to these piles.
Freud would have had a field day with her.
I typically don't scoop after my dog, but I'm tempted to do so now, just so I can toss the poop bag onto the top of the verboten tree pile. If Riva, oops, used her name, comes out screaming, I'd say I though the anti dog poop bag rule only applied to her BINS -- not tree trimming pile. Who can follow all these rules????
Exhibit two involves an octogenarian widow I'll call Edie, since that's her name. Her rich doctor husband had the decency to die years ago, leaving her set for life. We had one encounter with her, soon after we moved in. Wifey never forgot it.
D1 was on the Palmetto High dance team, and had to sell gift wrap as a fundraiser. Of course, every neighbor bought from the adorable 14 year old in the blue uniform. One neighbor, Arno, bought like $50 worth -- just to be the mentsch he still is. Well -- one neighbor didn't buy, and Wifey still recalls the encounter.
Edie, already very old, seemingly, 17 years ago, came to the door, and said "I can't be bothered with this now -- I have an upcoming appointment with my financial advisor." And shut the door.
Since then, I barely see the old bitch, and really thought she had died. She has emerged, taking walks around the 'hood.
After Kenny got to see the Freudian anal retentive Riva, we were making our way down 131 Street. I spotted Edie standing in a driveway next to her house. Hello, I bellowed, "gorgeous afternoon."
She said "You're taking up the whole street!" I thought she was just commenting on the fact that we were walking apart, and said "Well, we have to social distance." She said "You can walk behind each other" and I said "But then it's hard to talk."
I thought it a bit weird she was so interested in our walking placement, but then she blurted out "I can't get by! I HAVE TO WAIT!" Oh, so that was it.
I stopped, and put on my best Colonial British Indian accent. I bowed to her. "One thousand apologies, Edie. I had no idea we were in your way. I know there is no way I can ever replace the 30 seconds I have now stolen from your life, but perhaps you will forgive this trespass."
She snarled. "I know what social distancing is. But you took up the WHOLE STREET!"
I thought of my late, dear mother. She might have gone over and knocked the old crone over.
But again -- it gave Kenny and me laughter.
And I'm pretty sure Edie still wouldn't buy gift wrap for a good cause...
May these remain the biggest problems in our colorful neighborhood...
Monday, May 11, 2020
Sad and Shocking News
Wifey heard some awful news last night: her young second cousin, in his 40s, died. No cause was available, but it doesn't appear medically related.
Effie is Wifey's first cousin't son. He comes from a modern orthodox family -- he was born and raised in Baltimore. We got to know him over the years, during his trips to Miami.
More than 20 years ago, he and his brother, Yisroel, came for the weekend. They keep shabbos and kosher, and we asked our rabbi friend for an invite. They were happy to have us. The boys' Dad was a long time employee of Empire Kosher, and EVERY shabbos dinner was chicken. When our friend Nechama served us the food, the boys laughed: indeed, it was chicken. They charmingly said it was their first shabbos away from home, and thought maybe it wouldn't be chicken. We all laughed.
After dinner, I walked the 2.5 miles home with them, while Wifey drove with the Ds. We set them up in our guest room, and when Wifey went in to check, they were in bed with a bright light on. Wifey asked why they didn't turn it off -- they were used to NOT touching switches during shabbos. So Wifey comically made believe she was yawning and "accidentally turned out the light. More hilarity ensued when they opened the non shabbos refrigerator, causing the light to go on. We embraced our differences.
Years later, Effie married, and had a baby girl, I guess around '99. He was working in NYC, and lived in a religious 'hood in Brooklyn. He was very unhappy in his marriage, but divorce was very uncommon in his world.
He nearly had a novel-worthy experience during 9/11. He arrived late for a meeting at the World Trade Center, as the plane hit. He told us later he seriously saw it as his way out: he'd "disappear" and be presumed killed in the disaster. But as he walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, he thought about his young daughter, and instead went home. Another baby girl came the following year.
Still, there would be a divorce. He and his ex stayed friends, and raised two beautiful and smart girls. Effie and his girls stayed with us when they were, I guess, about 10 and 8. Wifey and I loved it - the two of them reminded us of the Ds at young ages. I think one has just now graduated from college, and the other from high school.
Wifey spoke to him several months ago. He made a special visit to see his great aunt -- my mother in law. He was very close to his grandfather Alter, my suegra's beloved younger brother, now long gone. He came to see Rachel to honor his grandfather.
He and Wifey caught up -- he was dating a nice lady, his career was going well, his daughters were flourishing. There was no hint to Wifey of depression or anything that may have led to his end.
I guess the facts will come out, but does it really matter? I just think of a delightful young man -- I had the pleasure of many nice talks with him. He was beloved by his siblings and parents. I can't imagine their pain.
Last night I read an essay by a Chabad scholar, a man named Tzvi Freeman. He's a Canadian born rabbi and writer, who was a computer genius before becoming religious. He wrote about a Spanish medieval rabbi and his thoughts about keeping a peaceful mind -- the key is realizing that, despite our egos, we are NOT in charge.
The essay pointed out that each night, we need to appreciate the series of miracles that allowed us to live as long as we have. It's a miracle we survived more than an hour after being born -- we wouldn't, but for our mother's sustaining us, and later the love of our family. He points out that when a man piles a few blocks together, he thinks he is a big deal -- but he isn't.
The point is, we plan, and we analyze, and, worst of all, we worry, but things are certainly out of our control. Truly accepting that ends anxiety. I hope I can.
Still -- there is deep pain in the loss of this fine young man. I hope for peace for his daughters and the rest of his family.
At some point, I'll reach out to the girls. I know what it's like to lose a beloved father as a young man. I'm saddened they're learning that, too.
Effie is Wifey's first cousin't son. He comes from a modern orthodox family -- he was born and raised in Baltimore. We got to know him over the years, during his trips to Miami.
More than 20 years ago, he and his brother, Yisroel, came for the weekend. They keep shabbos and kosher, and we asked our rabbi friend for an invite. They were happy to have us. The boys' Dad was a long time employee of Empire Kosher, and EVERY shabbos dinner was chicken. When our friend Nechama served us the food, the boys laughed: indeed, it was chicken. They charmingly said it was their first shabbos away from home, and thought maybe it wouldn't be chicken. We all laughed.
After dinner, I walked the 2.5 miles home with them, while Wifey drove with the Ds. We set them up in our guest room, and when Wifey went in to check, they were in bed with a bright light on. Wifey asked why they didn't turn it off -- they were used to NOT touching switches during shabbos. So Wifey comically made believe she was yawning and "accidentally turned out the light. More hilarity ensued when they opened the non shabbos refrigerator, causing the light to go on. We embraced our differences.
Years later, Effie married, and had a baby girl, I guess around '99. He was working in NYC, and lived in a religious 'hood in Brooklyn. He was very unhappy in his marriage, but divorce was very uncommon in his world.
He nearly had a novel-worthy experience during 9/11. He arrived late for a meeting at the World Trade Center, as the plane hit. He told us later he seriously saw it as his way out: he'd "disappear" and be presumed killed in the disaster. But as he walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, he thought about his young daughter, and instead went home. Another baby girl came the following year.
Still, there would be a divorce. He and his ex stayed friends, and raised two beautiful and smart girls. Effie and his girls stayed with us when they were, I guess, about 10 and 8. Wifey and I loved it - the two of them reminded us of the Ds at young ages. I think one has just now graduated from college, and the other from high school.
Wifey spoke to him several months ago. He made a special visit to see his great aunt -- my mother in law. He was very close to his grandfather Alter, my suegra's beloved younger brother, now long gone. He came to see Rachel to honor his grandfather.
He and Wifey caught up -- he was dating a nice lady, his career was going well, his daughters were flourishing. There was no hint to Wifey of depression or anything that may have led to his end.
I guess the facts will come out, but does it really matter? I just think of a delightful young man -- I had the pleasure of many nice talks with him. He was beloved by his siblings and parents. I can't imagine their pain.
Last night I read an essay by a Chabad scholar, a man named Tzvi Freeman. He's a Canadian born rabbi and writer, who was a computer genius before becoming religious. He wrote about a Spanish medieval rabbi and his thoughts about keeping a peaceful mind -- the key is realizing that, despite our egos, we are NOT in charge.
The essay pointed out that each night, we need to appreciate the series of miracles that allowed us to live as long as we have. It's a miracle we survived more than an hour after being born -- we wouldn't, but for our mother's sustaining us, and later the love of our family. He points out that when a man piles a few blocks together, he thinks he is a big deal -- but he isn't.
The point is, we plan, and we analyze, and, worst of all, we worry, but things are certainly out of our control. Truly accepting that ends anxiety. I hope I can.
Still -- there is deep pain in the loss of this fine young man. I hope for peace for his daughters and the rest of his family.
At some point, I'll reach out to the girls. I know what it's like to lose a beloved father as a young man. I'm saddened they're learning that, too.
Sunday, May 10, 2020
Everything's Quiet on Mother's Day
Well, I ain't had no mother to celebrate with since MD 2012, so the holiday is always one of mixed emotions for me, but, as the circle of life spins, this year IS very special. Wifey and I get to wish a happy MD to D1 for the first time. She is already a kick ass mother -- fiercely in love with her close to 5 month old beautiful baby boy.
We celebrated yesterday, as today they will hopefully get to visit her wonderful suegros. Wifey and I stopped at Bagel Emporium for some Jewish comfort food, and cruised up to Casa D1 and Joey. We played with the little man -- Wifey has complete patience. She truly adores babies and dogs.
At nap time, this grandpa found an outdoor couch, and reclined listening to the kids playing in the pool next door, and the birds. D1's house is built among some of the oldest live oaks in Miami, and there is an amazing bird game going on -- the singing was like a movie set.
I drifted off into what became a top 5 nap of all time -- about 5 hours. I awoke not knowing where I was. The plague was surely no longer in my unconsciousness. It was heavenly.
I hadn't walked, and sure enough, when I arrived home, realized I have become addicted. I got Mirta on the phone -- she was biking -- and we chatted. I made 5 miles -- half of my usual daily routine -- but still helpful with the anxiety.
Wifey is sleeping in. I'll make her coffee soon, and bring it to her in bed. D1 already sent her sunflowers, her favorite, on behalf of both Ds. I have a feeling there'll be a heartfelt couple of emails -- from D1 now that she is a mother of a human, and D2, a devoted dog mom of a very large puppy.
Wifey truly was and is an a (pause) mazing mom. She has showered the Ds, and now grandson, with unconditional love. She read to them nightly -- more than I did -- to get their brains going the right way. She was tough with them when she had to be.
I recall a tough time in D1's adolescence. A group of "mean girls" and boys decided they didn't wish to hang with her. D1 turned to Wifey to become her buddy. They'd get home from school, and D1 would say "So what are we doing today?" As much as Wifey loved her daughter's companionship, she wasn't having it. "Who's "WE?" You need to make your own friends."
And the tough love worked -- D1 indeed found a crowd where she became very happy and popular -- and took her amazing social skills to college, grad school, and beyond.
The family joke is that I am absurdly friendly, and know EVERYONE. Well -- I am minor league compared to D1 -- she truly has connections all over the city.
And for that, I give credit to Wifey. She knew that a mother's role is to parent -- not be a buddy all the time. And D1 is quite the woman because of it.
D2, with a more fraught relationship with Wifey during HER adolescence, also now recognizes how lucky she is. She came home from college, where she had close friends, and announced that Wifey screwed her up FAR LESS than many of the other moms. That is a very high compliment.
We all mess up our kids, as the poet Philip Larkin said so well. If we can keep the damage to a minimum -- well -- that's the best we can hope for.
So I salute Wifey this MD, as well as new badass Mom D1. May there be many more.
And as for Sunny -- who left this mortal coil in April of '13, I think of you today, of course. I thank you for the love you gave me, and the self confidence. She always thought I'd grow up to be a US Senator. I'm happy being a semi retired lawyer, enjoying the next generations from my dear mother.
Sunny loved her children fiercely. Her daughter in law and granddaughter do the same. And I am one lucky Daddy and Grand Daddy in the USA.
We celebrated yesterday, as today they will hopefully get to visit her wonderful suegros. Wifey and I stopped at Bagel Emporium for some Jewish comfort food, and cruised up to Casa D1 and Joey. We played with the little man -- Wifey has complete patience. She truly adores babies and dogs.
At nap time, this grandpa found an outdoor couch, and reclined listening to the kids playing in the pool next door, and the birds. D1's house is built among some of the oldest live oaks in Miami, and there is an amazing bird game going on -- the singing was like a movie set.
I drifted off into what became a top 5 nap of all time -- about 5 hours. I awoke not knowing where I was. The plague was surely no longer in my unconsciousness. It was heavenly.
I hadn't walked, and sure enough, when I arrived home, realized I have become addicted. I got Mirta on the phone -- she was biking -- and we chatted. I made 5 miles -- half of my usual daily routine -- but still helpful with the anxiety.
Wifey is sleeping in. I'll make her coffee soon, and bring it to her in bed. D1 already sent her sunflowers, her favorite, on behalf of both Ds. I have a feeling there'll be a heartfelt couple of emails -- from D1 now that she is a mother of a human, and D2, a devoted dog mom of a very large puppy.
Wifey truly was and is an a (pause) mazing mom. She has showered the Ds, and now grandson, with unconditional love. She read to them nightly -- more than I did -- to get their brains going the right way. She was tough with them when she had to be.
I recall a tough time in D1's adolescence. A group of "mean girls" and boys decided they didn't wish to hang with her. D1 turned to Wifey to become her buddy. They'd get home from school, and D1 would say "So what are we doing today?" As much as Wifey loved her daughter's companionship, she wasn't having it. "Who's "WE?" You need to make your own friends."
And the tough love worked -- D1 indeed found a crowd where she became very happy and popular -- and took her amazing social skills to college, grad school, and beyond.
The family joke is that I am absurdly friendly, and know EVERYONE. Well -- I am minor league compared to D1 -- she truly has connections all over the city.
And for that, I give credit to Wifey. She knew that a mother's role is to parent -- not be a buddy all the time. And D1 is quite the woman because of it.
D2, with a more fraught relationship with Wifey during HER adolescence, also now recognizes how lucky she is. She came home from college, where she had close friends, and announced that Wifey screwed her up FAR LESS than many of the other moms. That is a very high compliment.
We all mess up our kids, as the poet Philip Larkin said so well. If we can keep the damage to a minimum -- well -- that's the best we can hope for.
So I salute Wifey this MD, as well as new badass Mom D1. May there be many more.
And as for Sunny -- who left this mortal coil in April of '13, I think of you today, of course. I thank you for the love you gave me, and the self confidence. She always thought I'd grow up to be a US Senator. I'm happy being a semi retired lawyer, enjoying the next generations from my dear mother.
Sunny loved her children fiercely. Her daughter in law and granddaughter do the same. And I am one lucky Daddy and Grand Daddy in the USA.
Friday, May 8, 2020
Bored Housewife
So I had a long talk with Mirta the other day, while out on one of my anxiety walks, and I asked her opinion about a mutual young friend. We discussed it for awhile, and how I was very annoyed at something the fellow did, and we came to a resolution.
But then Mirta added an observation that really struck home: as I am not going to the office, or doing too much else productive, I have fallen into the "bored housewife syndrome."
Mirta used to note it back when she worked for us. It was typically something she saw in women who stayed home, but still had help with their kids and housework. They would typically make mountains out of molehills -- stuff busy people would laugh off became big deals to them.
There's a new term for these women -- "Karens." I guess Karen is a popular name among wealthy moms, and when one of them acts entitled, or makes a big deal out of something, it is said she was "pulling a Karen."
Still -- I took the advice to heart, and will now, for the balance of the quarantine, focus on NOT sweating the small stuff. Slights, annoyances, etc...need to be kept in their place.
That's not to say I'll stop finding humor in the foibles of others. And that is going on right now.
We got an email from our HOA pres, Gloria, saying that "some people" have been committing a great transgression: putting their filled dog poop bags into neighbors' bins. The email reminded us that it was a Miami Dade ordinance to definitely pick up after your dog, but that we needed to bring the poop to our OWN bins.
Well, first full disclosure. I do NOT scoop up. Our 'hood is composed of half acre and full acre homesites. I figure it's my right to let my dog use the swales -- and never mind when neighbors do it to ours. If I lived in a more urban setting, like D2 and Jonathan do, I would DEFINITELY scoop. But I don't, so I won't.
I wrote back to Gloria that we now had a modern version of the classic "Fish and Chips with Vinegar" nursery rhyme: don't put your dust in MY bin... my dust bin's full." She agreed. I had a suspicion who the compainer was, and yesterday she outed herself.
Jeff and I were walking, and passed the house of she who will be unnamed. Sadly, I went to UM undergrad with her. She's nuts. She's also nasty -- she has several times called Pinecrest zoning on neighbors rather than the normal human thing of confronting them in person. I avoid her.
But yesterday, she was outside, standing vigil over her trash bins, and with a big sign telling people that THREE TIMES she had people put scooped dog poop in her bins, and she had to disinfect them.
Jeff noted to her people had done that to him, but he wouldn't dream of reporting anyone over it. This went right over her head. She doesn't listen -- she kept up on her diatribe.
As we walked away, I told her that I promised to clean up if Jeff or I had a poop accident while walking, and NOT to put it in her bin. Again -- no reaction -- just her continued rage at this trespass.
So we got our morning's laugh, as well as some humor for FaceBook.
As for taking small stuff seriously, though -- I will try to avoid becoming the bored housewife.
But then Mirta added an observation that really struck home: as I am not going to the office, or doing too much else productive, I have fallen into the "bored housewife syndrome."
Mirta used to note it back when she worked for us. It was typically something she saw in women who stayed home, but still had help with their kids and housework. They would typically make mountains out of molehills -- stuff busy people would laugh off became big deals to them.
There's a new term for these women -- "Karens." I guess Karen is a popular name among wealthy moms, and when one of them acts entitled, or makes a big deal out of something, it is said she was "pulling a Karen."
Still -- I took the advice to heart, and will now, for the balance of the quarantine, focus on NOT sweating the small stuff. Slights, annoyances, etc...need to be kept in their place.
That's not to say I'll stop finding humor in the foibles of others. And that is going on right now.
We got an email from our HOA pres, Gloria, saying that "some people" have been committing a great transgression: putting their filled dog poop bags into neighbors' bins. The email reminded us that it was a Miami Dade ordinance to definitely pick up after your dog, but that we needed to bring the poop to our OWN bins.
Well, first full disclosure. I do NOT scoop up. Our 'hood is composed of half acre and full acre homesites. I figure it's my right to let my dog use the swales -- and never mind when neighbors do it to ours. If I lived in a more urban setting, like D2 and Jonathan do, I would DEFINITELY scoop. But I don't, so I won't.
I wrote back to Gloria that we now had a modern version of the classic "Fish and Chips with Vinegar" nursery rhyme: don't put your dust in MY bin... my dust bin's full." She agreed. I had a suspicion who the compainer was, and yesterday she outed herself.
Jeff and I were walking, and passed the house of she who will be unnamed. Sadly, I went to UM undergrad with her. She's nuts. She's also nasty -- she has several times called Pinecrest zoning on neighbors rather than the normal human thing of confronting them in person. I avoid her.
But yesterday, she was outside, standing vigil over her trash bins, and with a big sign telling people that THREE TIMES she had people put scooped dog poop in her bins, and she had to disinfect them.
Jeff noted to her people had done that to him, but he wouldn't dream of reporting anyone over it. This went right over her head. She doesn't listen -- she kept up on her diatribe.
As we walked away, I told her that I promised to clean up if Jeff or I had a poop accident while walking, and NOT to put it in her bin. Again -- no reaction -- just her continued rage at this trespass.
So we got our morning's laugh, as well as some humor for FaceBook.
As for taking small stuff seriously, though -- I will try to avoid becoming the bored housewife.
Wednesday, May 6, 2020
Another Pandemic Wednesday
The days really do blend together. Today, Wifey asked what if we never got out of the house -- just sort of died here together, like those older couples she keeps reading about. I told her not to worry -- my clear goal is to leave her a very financially comfortable widow -- like my Dad did for my Mom. I think that cheered her a bit.
Yesterday I walked close to 5 miles in the am with Jeff, and then another 4 with Kenny in the afternoon. He had to cut our perambulation short, to do some actual errands on his way home.
Later on, the strange rescue dog gave me her famous side-eye, and I took her for another round. In total, I exceeded 10 miles again. The new NB sneaks I treated myself to are already wearing out. I guess that's a good thing.
Young Josh had asked for a Cinco de Mayo happy hour, and we were to do it at 630. Marc and Edna in Atlanta asked to join, and Josh ended up bowing out, so I had my Ketels as Edna and Marc drank white wine in NE Atlanta, and Wifey ate her dinner.
I logged another 5 miles this am, and have a telephone date with Mirta at 6:30. She'll walk in Kendall while I walk in Pinecrest. She's been losing a lot of weight, too during these crazy times.
I did manage a bit of work today -- helped draft a letter to a client in a complicated case. Stuart thanked me by saying I was a better writer than Dan LeBatard. Ha. Not even close, but flattery does work...
My cousin Steve in Jackson Heights and I have been texting during the plague. He lives in the epicenter of it all -- was even hospitalized for non Covid stuff at Elmhurst Hospital. I told him he must have picked up every possible immunity there is, and to plan for a very long life. His mother, my Aunt Anne, died at 99, so that's probably in the cards for him.
He found a note his mother had made -- listing all of her parents' relatives. He sent a photo. I realized that, other than my grandparents, and father's 2 siblings, I had no idea who any of these people were. I sent the photo to the Ds, though, and D1 loved it. She has a keen interest in our roots. Ashkenazi represent!
We were going to finally have Miriam come today, after a 7 week hiatus. I've been sending checks to her, which she greatly appreciates. But then we realized things are still pretty nuts in South Florida, and we can keep the house reasonably well ourselves, so Wifey told her to stay home again. I'll send her another check tonight.
There was an article in the Times saying that less than 5% of the people who tell their domestic workers to stay away pay them anyhow. If that's true, then it is really pretty easy to NOT be a jerk in these times -- if you have any financial wherewithal whatsoever.
Just help out those who are normally there for you! It's not very hard.
I actually called my soon to be ex-doctor's office, because of an OCD issue of mine. On March 2 I got the new Shingrix vaccine, to prevent shingles. It requires a follow up within 5 months. I called Walgreens, where I got the vaccine, and not surprisingly they're not giving them for the time being.
I pay MDVIP -- and it's really a waste. Wifey left this year -- now using her friend Elizabeth's brother in law, a long time family practitioner, who gives the same level of concierge care without the $1800 per year fee.
So I had a special request. Could they get the Shingrix for me, and let me come by for the shot? Nope, they would not.
I'll get it elsewhere -- probably in late Summer, assuming the plague has eased. And in January, it'll be adios to MDVIP.
So -- that's all the news around here. Time to lace up the New Balance and do some miles.
Yesterday I walked close to 5 miles in the am with Jeff, and then another 4 with Kenny in the afternoon. He had to cut our perambulation short, to do some actual errands on his way home.
Later on, the strange rescue dog gave me her famous side-eye, and I took her for another round. In total, I exceeded 10 miles again. The new NB sneaks I treated myself to are already wearing out. I guess that's a good thing.
Young Josh had asked for a Cinco de Mayo happy hour, and we were to do it at 630. Marc and Edna in Atlanta asked to join, and Josh ended up bowing out, so I had my Ketels as Edna and Marc drank white wine in NE Atlanta, and Wifey ate her dinner.
I logged another 5 miles this am, and have a telephone date with Mirta at 6:30. She'll walk in Kendall while I walk in Pinecrest. She's been losing a lot of weight, too during these crazy times.
I did manage a bit of work today -- helped draft a letter to a client in a complicated case. Stuart thanked me by saying I was a better writer than Dan LeBatard. Ha. Not even close, but flattery does work...
My cousin Steve in Jackson Heights and I have been texting during the plague. He lives in the epicenter of it all -- was even hospitalized for non Covid stuff at Elmhurst Hospital. I told him he must have picked up every possible immunity there is, and to plan for a very long life. His mother, my Aunt Anne, died at 99, so that's probably in the cards for him.
He found a note his mother had made -- listing all of her parents' relatives. He sent a photo. I realized that, other than my grandparents, and father's 2 siblings, I had no idea who any of these people were. I sent the photo to the Ds, though, and D1 loved it. She has a keen interest in our roots. Ashkenazi represent!
We were going to finally have Miriam come today, after a 7 week hiatus. I've been sending checks to her, which she greatly appreciates. But then we realized things are still pretty nuts in South Florida, and we can keep the house reasonably well ourselves, so Wifey told her to stay home again. I'll send her another check tonight.
There was an article in the Times saying that less than 5% of the people who tell their domestic workers to stay away pay them anyhow. If that's true, then it is really pretty easy to NOT be a jerk in these times -- if you have any financial wherewithal whatsoever.
Just help out those who are normally there for you! It's not very hard.
I actually called my soon to be ex-doctor's office, because of an OCD issue of mine. On March 2 I got the new Shingrix vaccine, to prevent shingles. It requires a follow up within 5 months. I called Walgreens, where I got the vaccine, and not surprisingly they're not giving them for the time being.
I pay MDVIP -- and it's really a waste. Wifey left this year -- now using her friend Elizabeth's brother in law, a long time family practitioner, who gives the same level of concierge care without the $1800 per year fee.
So I had a special request. Could they get the Shingrix for me, and let me come by for the shot? Nope, they would not.
I'll get it elsewhere -- probably in late Summer, assuming the plague has eased. And in January, it'll be adios to MDVIP.
So -- that's all the news around here. Time to lace up the New Balance and do some miles.
Tuesday, May 5, 2020
Damn Models
The OCD I have when a hurricane approaches Miami has unfortunately reared its very ugly head with the plague. I check the National Hurricane Center's Cone of Death, as we call it, all day, even though it only gets updated several times per day. When it veers away, I'm happy. When it has the 305 smack in the center, I get more anxious. Other than the devastation of Andrew, and the annoyances of Katrina and Irma (long time without power), the storms have usually missed us.
Well -- at the start of the coronavirus event, I adopted the U Washington model as my cone of death. I was so criticized about it, by ultra lefty FaceBook friends, that I ended up unfriending several. They claimed the model was far too optimistic -- the White House liked it,as it predicted fewer cases and deaths than other models.
Seemed to me it was pretty accurate, and I checked every few days to see when it was updated, which they now do twice per week. Sure enough, April 29 had promising news: "only" a total of fewer than 2000 deaths were predicted in Florida, and about 65,000 for the entire country. That amount of death I could live with.
But last night they updated. Turns out that the opening of the lockdowns has caused the modelers to see much worse news: now they're predicting close to 4000 deaths in Florida, and more than 125K in the US.
My mood plummeted upon reading it. I took a more than 10 mile anxiety walk.
I guess the bright spot, at least for Florida, is that we are now the third most populous state, but predicted to have "only" the 11th most deaths. Still --stuff is scary.
Meanwhile, the anxiety walks are proving something my family all figured out years ago: when you walk a lot, you get thinner. I remember taking Wifey and the Ds to NYC, followed by a day on LI. It was uncanny -- Manhattan folks were thin -- they walk. A lot. As soon as we stopped in our first diner on LI -- the folks were obese. They drive EVERYWHERE, and it shows.
So lately I'm at least aping the NYC walking thing -- and it's working. I'm down to 242. Still much too large, but down 20 lbs from my unfortunate fat zenith. I plan to get to 200 lbs -- for my frame, a respectable amount, though D1 would tell me guidelines want me at below 175. As the Ds used to say -- let's not get craaaaazy...
So it's Cinco de Mayo, the fake Mexican Independence Day. Jeff and I put on 4 miles together this am, and I have a nap with my name on it scheduled for early afternoon. Kenny is coming at 4, after his shift at the hospital, and I look forward to his august company, even in May.
Young Josh wishes a Cinco de Mayo toast, and we'l hopefully have one later. His Dad is covering his unit at the hospital and will not attend. Someone has to mind the hospital store.
I spoke to our partner Stu yesterday about some cases. Florida Supreme Court says no jury trials until at least July, so that slows stuff down. There may still be some settlements though.
So the days slog on. I thank the Big Man, a lot, for keeping us on the right side of things, and ask Him to please hurry this plague away from our planet. I hope He decides to do just that.
And maybe the damned model will improve. I guess the next one is out Friday night. Joey and D1 are hosting a shabbat toast, or kiddush, for all of us. I'll be sure to have my vodka before I check the new model.
Well -- at the start of the coronavirus event, I adopted the U Washington model as my cone of death. I was so criticized about it, by ultra lefty FaceBook friends, that I ended up unfriending several. They claimed the model was far too optimistic -- the White House liked it,as it predicted fewer cases and deaths than other models.
Seemed to me it was pretty accurate, and I checked every few days to see when it was updated, which they now do twice per week. Sure enough, April 29 had promising news: "only" a total of fewer than 2000 deaths were predicted in Florida, and about 65,000 for the entire country. That amount of death I could live with.
But last night they updated. Turns out that the opening of the lockdowns has caused the modelers to see much worse news: now they're predicting close to 4000 deaths in Florida, and more than 125K in the US.
My mood plummeted upon reading it. I took a more than 10 mile anxiety walk.
I guess the bright spot, at least for Florida, is that we are now the third most populous state, but predicted to have "only" the 11th most deaths. Still --stuff is scary.
Meanwhile, the anxiety walks are proving something my family all figured out years ago: when you walk a lot, you get thinner. I remember taking Wifey and the Ds to NYC, followed by a day on LI. It was uncanny -- Manhattan folks were thin -- they walk. A lot. As soon as we stopped in our first diner on LI -- the folks were obese. They drive EVERYWHERE, and it shows.
So lately I'm at least aping the NYC walking thing -- and it's working. I'm down to 242. Still much too large, but down 20 lbs from my unfortunate fat zenith. I plan to get to 200 lbs -- for my frame, a respectable amount, though D1 would tell me guidelines want me at below 175. As the Ds used to say -- let's not get craaaaazy...
So it's Cinco de Mayo, the fake Mexican Independence Day. Jeff and I put on 4 miles together this am, and I have a nap with my name on it scheduled for early afternoon. Kenny is coming at 4, after his shift at the hospital, and I look forward to his august company, even in May.
Young Josh wishes a Cinco de Mayo toast, and we'l hopefully have one later. His Dad is covering his unit at the hospital and will not attend. Someone has to mind the hospital store.
I spoke to our partner Stu yesterday about some cases. Florida Supreme Court says no jury trials until at least July, so that slows stuff down. There may still be some settlements though.
So the days slog on. I thank the Big Man, a lot, for keeping us on the right side of things, and ask Him to please hurry this plague away from our planet. I hope He decides to do just that.
And maybe the damned model will improve. I guess the next one is out Friday night. Joey and D1 are hosting a shabbat toast, or kiddush, for all of us. I'll be sure to have my vodka before I check the new model.
Sunday, May 3, 2020
Walking, But Not Just For Anxiety
I've been walking lately, to battle the anxiety of the plague. A lot. Most days I do between 6-8 miles. My high was 12 miles. Today, there was a purpose, sort of. I walked with my buddy Jeff for Friendship Circle.
FC is a wonderful group started by friends Nechama and Yossi. It pairs high school volunteers with special needs kids -- mostly autistic -- who otherwise wouldn't have social opportunities with kids. The new Chabad Center will have a huge facility for the FC, and each year they have a Walkathon.
This year, of course, it was virtual, but still raised close to $200K. Jeff always does the Walkathon, and asked me to do it with him. We walked 4 miles through the 'hood, and posted photos on the web site. It was nice to have more of a purpose for my perambulations...
All the walking, and much less eating, have had a side effect: I've lost probably about 20 lbs. That's the good news. The bad news is that I probably ought to lost 40 more to be in reasonable shape. I hope to do it WITHOUT plague assistance...
Meanwhile, live goes on. D2 and Jonathan actually went to look at a house for sale today. Their lease is up in September, and they're thinking about either renting a townhouse, or maybe buying. They know this plague will probably make things a complete buyers' market, and may take advantage of that.
Today, I plan to keep on quarantining...I just made Wifey and myself some mushroom, tomatoes, and scrambled egg hash for brunch. Wifey loves when I bring it to her in her recliner chair.
I've already done 6 miles today, and may try to double it later, temperature permitting.
Other than that, it's another Sunday in pandemic land. I really, really hope May is better than April...
FC is a wonderful group started by friends Nechama and Yossi. It pairs high school volunteers with special needs kids -- mostly autistic -- who otherwise wouldn't have social opportunities with kids. The new Chabad Center will have a huge facility for the FC, and each year they have a Walkathon.
This year, of course, it was virtual, but still raised close to $200K. Jeff always does the Walkathon, and asked me to do it with him. We walked 4 miles through the 'hood, and posted photos on the web site. It was nice to have more of a purpose for my perambulations...
All the walking, and much less eating, have had a side effect: I've lost probably about 20 lbs. That's the good news. The bad news is that I probably ought to lost 40 more to be in reasonable shape. I hope to do it WITHOUT plague assistance...
Meanwhile, live goes on. D2 and Jonathan actually went to look at a house for sale today. Their lease is up in September, and they're thinking about either renting a townhouse, or maybe buying. They know this plague will probably make things a complete buyers' market, and may take advantage of that.
Today, I plan to keep on quarantining...I just made Wifey and myself some mushroom, tomatoes, and scrambled egg hash for brunch. Wifey loves when I bring it to her in her recliner chair.
I've already done 6 miles today, and may try to double it later, temperature permitting.
Other than that, it's another Sunday in pandemic land. I really, really hope May is better than April...
Friday, May 1, 2020
Shoddy Stuff
Back in our last house, in the 90s, Wifey bought some patio furniture -- a then new product called Polywood. Unlike regular wood outdoor furniture, which rotted after a few years in the Miami heat and humidity, this was a material of recycled plastic AND wood -- and we liked it.
We had a rocker, and an Adirondack chair, and a bench rocker -- which broke a few years ago. But the rocker had sentimental value -- the ends of the arm rests were chewed a bit by Honey, our beloved Yellow Lab, when she was a puppy.
The rocker got a lot of use -- I especially enjoyed sitting on it, under the porch roof, watching thunderstorms. Most recently, Mirta sat there during our only quarantine actual social visit.
Well -- yesterday, as Wifey was fast asleep during a big storm, I went out to rock and watch, and I heard a tapping sound. Sure enough, one of the rocker blades had broken off. The chair was history. I checked -- the company indeed had a 20 year warranty. But the chairs were 24 years old. I could hardly complain...
I'll order a replacement today. I schlepped the broken chair around to the garage. Normally I'd bring it to the transfer station, but I figure it's best to avoid that place for now, so I got my drill and disassembled the old chair, and tossed the pieces into the trash bin. It was a nice task given a time of few real tasks.
Meanwhile, yesterday I set up my first successful Zoom meeting. It's not that hard, but for a tech moron like me, EVERYTHING is hard. I wanted to toast Dr. Barry -- he goes on service today in the ICU, and wanted to wish him Godspeed.
Scott appeared from Virginia, and Josh from the back of his house. Barry was there, in the car, but joined in the toast when he got home. Eric came later -- now happily reunited with Dana and their puggle Simba. D2 FaceTimed with Betsy, and she took part, and later D1 FaceTimed with our grandson on a walk in his hood. It was a lovely diversion for a post thunderstorm afternoon.
The passing storm had left it cool, and I took the strange rescue dog out for a stroll -- got my mileage number to 9.3.
Eliot said April was the cruelest month. It's over -- today is May 1. I hope Eliot was correct, and we continue to emerge from the plague.
At least I'll be on a new rocker...
We had a rocker, and an Adirondack chair, and a bench rocker -- which broke a few years ago. But the rocker had sentimental value -- the ends of the arm rests were chewed a bit by Honey, our beloved Yellow Lab, when she was a puppy.
The rocker got a lot of use -- I especially enjoyed sitting on it, under the porch roof, watching thunderstorms. Most recently, Mirta sat there during our only quarantine actual social visit.
Well -- yesterday, as Wifey was fast asleep during a big storm, I went out to rock and watch, and I heard a tapping sound. Sure enough, one of the rocker blades had broken off. The chair was history. I checked -- the company indeed had a 20 year warranty. But the chairs were 24 years old. I could hardly complain...
I'll order a replacement today. I schlepped the broken chair around to the garage. Normally I'd bring it to the transfer station, but I figure it's best to avoid that place for now, so I got my drill and disassembled the old chair, and tossed the pieces into the trash bin. It was a nice task given a time of few real tasks.
Meanwhile, yesterday I set up my first successful Zoom meeting. It's not that hard, but for a tech moron like me, EVERYTHING is hard. I wanted to toast Dr. Barry -- he goes on service today in the ICU, and wanted to wish him Godspeed.
Scott appeared from Virginia, and Josh from the back of his house. Barry was there, in the car, but joined in the toast when he got home. Eric came later -- now happily reunited with Dana and their puggle Simba. D2 FaceTimed with Betsy, and she took part, and later D1 FaceTimed with our grandson on a walk in his hood. It was a lovely diversion for a post thunderstorm afternoon.
The passing storm had left it cool, and I took the strange rescue dog out for a stroll -- got my mileage number to 9.3.
Eliot said April was the cruelest month. It's over -- today is May 1. I hope Eliot was correct, and we continue to emerge from the plague.
At least I'll be on a new rocker...
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