Risk Versus Reward

 As we all navigate the plague times, it's interesting to note the variety of individual coping mechanisms people employ.

As Dr. Barry keeps reminding us, the most significant letter about the plague is "n," which stands for "novel," which means ain't nobody really know much about this virus. Still, scientific consensus is that the less contact with others the better, since we get infected from other humans.

Wifey and I have tried to stay pretty strict -- only going out when it's truly important -- to us, at least. Since March, I have been inside a retail store exactly ONE time -- a CVS in  order to buy a SunPass from the front register. I was also in a Firestone dealership for a total of three minutes when I dropped off and then paid for auto service for Wifey's SUV. That's it.

It has truly been no big deal for me. If I can never shop in person again in my lifetime, it'll be a minimal loss. When it comes to stuff, I prefer having it delivered. And the less stuff, other than food and health and computer supplies -- the better.

Wifey and I were talking about this the other day. Some of her friends savor their trips to Publix -- just to get out and see merchandise and other people. I know several people at medical high risk, due to age and diabetes, the witch's brew for predicting bad Covid outcomes, who nonetheless go out to shop in public regularly.

And that's fine -- their choice.

We have a friend in her mid 60s who was about to take a trip with 2 airplane legs -- and then a long car ride to a rural outpost. She's bright, and appreciates the risk -- but knows she'll go nuts if she can't take a vacation, and so off she'll go. Again -- fine. Her call.

As strict as I've been, I incur risk. I refuse to NOT see my Ds and their men and my grandson. To me, that's a risk with a critical reward, and so we get together at least weekly.

For others, as I keep telling my nephew of another brother Josh, who wants to come visit -- I'm not that pretty that you have to see me in person. Zoom and FaceTime are fine for now. It's the conversation and spending time together. The physical togetherness can surely wait.

The Day of Atonement is the day after tomorrow. I always use Yom Kippur as a day of reflection, of taking stock. This year there have been a few lessons.

First, one I learned years ago has come to fruition. A friend of a friend, Arthur, served 10 years in federal prison for dealing weed. After he got out, I had a long talk with him. He said that after a few months, he realized he COULD do the time without going crazy. Once he came to that self realization, the days just went by.

I think of his words now. My last day of normalcy was March 12. Over a half year of this corona sentence have elapsed. I CAN do the time. I WILL do the time.

The other lesson is so obvious it's a cliche: don't put stuff off. I've been hearing about people "thinking" about moving -- to be closer to family, or to get better jobs. That's folly. If the plague has taught anything, it's that people die -- suddenly. If you have a dream, or a desire -- freaking DO IT.

I'm fortunate. There is absolutely nowhere else I want to be. Got my Ds and their men and baby and dogs all within 30 minutes. Got all the stuff I love to do, when the virus is tamed, within my home County. I'm 20 minutes from MIA, an airport that can get me a flight to literally anywhere in the wide world. This is heaven for me. It's my happy place.

The other day I got a call from Diana, the de facto office manager from our old office, when we were roomies with her boss Mark. We reminisced about the old days. Diana lives with and cares for her 95 year old mother. Her brother just took a federal job in Texas, and Diana said her long term plans, after Mom passes, and brother retires, are to relocate up the coast to the Melbourne area. She prefers the pace there, and when she sells her Doral condo, will buy a virtual palace for the same price as her garden apartment in Miami Dade. I wished her well -- and shared exactly these thoughts. If nothing keeps you tied to a place -- pick the dream place for you.

Other than that, it's more keepin on, keepin' on. The Heat blew a lead last night, and has to win either tomorrow or Tuesday to make the Finals. But the Marlins are in the playoffs! They beat the Yankees to secure a spot. To see that young team make it is terrific.

But for me, the main sports event is tonight -- Canes host FSU. Canes are favored by 12. I don't know -- they have a way of disappointing when they're predicted to win big. I hope they overcome that tonight. But I'll be watching, and texting with my buddies. No tailgate, of course. Typically, we'd have arrived at the stadium by 4, and drank and ate until kickoff. Not to be this year...

I'm thinking this need to live strategically versus the virus is going to be around a long, long time. That's ok. We could be stuck in worse places...

Dodged the Covid Bullitt

 So Wifey and I drove over to Pinecrest Village Hall and followed the comically detailed signs directing us to the Covid19 testing area. There was a minivan in front of us, but I could tell that test-ee had forgotten to fill out the forms, and so was directed to a pit area -- we were called into position.

The very nice young tech filled out the forms. I commented she was a fellow left hander, and since she had my info in front of her, noted that her birthday was 10 days before mine, albeit in the year 1993 instead of 1961. She came over and pricked my finger for the antibody test, and then thrust up the nasal swab, and then walked around the car and did the same with Wifey. She said we'd get antibody results within 24 hours and PCR, or active Covid results, within 48.

Yesterday D2 came over to work while our lady Miriam was spiffying up her condo, and we spent a nice day watching the enormous dog frolic outside, especially in the rain. I made Daddy eggs for lunch, and in the afternoon Wifey got an email from the testing lab -- no antibodies were found.

We ordered in Chana Thai, and ate together, and at 7 FaceTimed our old friend Allison, home in Cooper City. I poured a healthy ketel one, and Allison, a huge dog lover, got to see Betsy and show off her latest rescues. D2 left to go fetch Jonathan, and head for home.

Wifey and Allison talked and talked and talked -- about decorating, and raising daughters. The hours flew by. Around 9, I emailed the testing lab, since they had promised the antibody results within 24 hours, and now close to 36 had gone by. I got a prompt response -- my results were "inconclusive," and they were waiting the PCR results before sending my report.

Great. More uncertainty. I knew that having a positive antibody test and negative PCR test was actually sort of the golden ticket -- probable immunity without suffering the effects of the disease - but I thought in my case "inconclusive" meant a pre-cursor to a positive Covid test, and the downward spiral towards a suffocating death. Oh well -- if it happened around Yom Kippur maybe people would say I was a Tzadik -- or holy type person - like they're saying about the late Ruth Bader Ginsberg. 

I went to sleep, and woke up around 5:30, and the email had come in -- sure enough, I was Covid negative. I would live to see another day!

Oh -- these plague times. They really stink. The end can't come fast enough, though most of the smartest people believe that's a full year off.

Meanwhile, I plan to enjoy my "new lease on life." Tonight there's a Zoom Happy Hour. Sunday D1 and Joey and the grandson are having us to their house for a pre fast -- bringing in food from Vagabond, which has a top 5 hamburger. And I'm having it with REGULAR fries --- not the healthy sweet potato ones, which are ok, but not as good as regular potato...

Also tonight, the Heat play, and can close out the Eastern Finals with a victory. More importantly to me -- the Canes host FSU. I really miss the tailgate for that one, but should get to see a good game.

So life remains quite worth living. I'm thankful to the Big Man that for now, the dreaded virus isn't upon us. That's saying a lot these days.

Getting Tested Again

 So since March 12th, Wifey and I have tried to be as Covid preventative as reasonably possible. We do this mostly at the direction of D1 and her proper concern for her baby boy, although he's now over 9 months and looking rather, well, plumb and thankfully healthy. Still, we're also at the lower end of the age group that seems to do poorly when they catch the virus. Early on, I heard the millennials were calling the disease "Boomer Remover," and sure enough that's how it's mostly played out.

It hasn't been easy. I LOVE having people over here. But since March, the only ones allowed in have been Miriam, our cleaning lady, now every two weeks. And we leave before she arrives, lest there be no active sharing of the dreaded "respiratory droplets" that seem to be causing the most havoc. We have the Ds, and their men, and our grandson, too, and a few times increased the bubble to include the Ds' BFF Alyssa and her wonderful husband, Freddy. But even those visits have been curtailed.

Also, one time Mirta came by, on her motorcycle, and she stayed 20 minutes, and we all wore masks, and sat far apart in our living room.

Well, Sunday there was a serious breach of our protocol. Wifey hired decorators last year, and they still had some work to do, and finally Wifey decided to have them over. They also asked if they could "take a few pictures" of their job. I was opposed, but Wifey was adamant, and so I agreed to go to a separate room and watch the Dolphins lose. The visit would last an hour or less.

After 2 hours, they were still there. And -- they had played Wifey. They brought a professional photographer and turned our house into a studio -- lamps and all. Ain't NO ONE letting folks in for formal commercial shoots, and they must have flipped out when they got Wifey to seemingly agree to this.

Well, when I realized what was going on, I masked up and came to the living room. Sure enough, the three young women AND Wifey were all maskless -- though Wifey was standing a bit apart. My less than charming side came out, and I ordered them to leave. Now. But they only needed "15 minutes more." No. Now, as in NOW.

They packed up, and Wifey realized she had screwed up. Big. We immediately set about disinfecting all the surfaces of the house -- exactly as if we had entered a hotel, something I have avoided and WILL avoid for the duration of the Plague. I went online and scheduled COVID tests three days hence -- which is today.

We were tested back in late June, and thankfully the results were negative. I'm hopeful the three young women with the run of our house were not spreaders, though one really concerns me: the professional photographer. I know for a fact that young Latins in Miami are still having "super spreader" events like Quinces and weddings and parties, and I have zero doubt if I talked to the photo lady, she'd tell me she has been to many of these events.

I hope to find the results by tomorrow -- apparently the turn around time has decreased quite a bit. Wifey didn't get her results last time for TEN days after her sample was taken -- mine came back in 6.

It would be the height of absurdity if our Plague downfall came as the result of something so stupid as allowing a photo shoot in our house for free. If I had to get sick, at least there should have been an upside to the risky event -- like going to a tailgate party, if they were allowed...

I totally get why all the best models tell us we're all in for a worse second wave coming in a few months. People, including my Wifey, clearly have quarantine fatigue, and are engaging in activities they know deep down have risks that outweigh the benefits.

Honestly, for me, as long as I can see the Ds, their men, and our grandson, the social distancing has been quite tolerable. My twice daily, long walks let my mind wander. Sometimes I'm mentally on beautiful hiking paths in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Sometimes it's the Oregon Coast. The other day I walked back through my childhood -- the hike from my house to the fields of Levittown Little League, where I knocked in a game winning run.

So we'll find out if we've avoided infection with that devilish tiny piece of RNA. I hope we do. D1 and Joey invited us for a pre Yom Kippur fast Sunday evening, and they're bringing in food from the diner at the Vagabond Motel, which has a Top 5 hamburger. D2 and Jonathan are set to go, too -- we'll enjoy each other's company, and toast to more peaceful times.

Assuming the test results go the right way...

5781

 So we rang in the new Jewish Year family style. D1 and Joey and the baby and spoiled Spaniel arrived early, car packed with the catered food and a job for Leche Dave. There was an immediate problem -- Leche Dave's garage freezer was already packed. D1 called her friend Amanda, who has been gratefully accepting the frozen milk -- she could be over soon.

As Joey tried to get the Little Man to nap, D1 and I met Amanda by the gate, and Leche Dave made his delivery. We got to see Amanda's 2 beautiful boys -- the little of which is thriving from D1's milk -- his gastric reflux essentially cured by the magic milk. It was a lovely thing to see.

A bit later, D2 and Jonathan and their enormous puppy arrived, and the grandson made it clear he was NOT going to nap this Rosh Hashanah day. So we played with him, and eventually Wifey made her appearance -- she had slept late and took awhile to get ready. 

We retired to the dining room around noon, with the men having cocktails, and the Ds sharing Prosecco. We ate, and toasted, and talked of times past and times to come. It was exquisite.

Afterwards there was a lot of baby/dog cuteness, with enormous Betsy licking the Little Man's face. It seems virtually guaranteed this boy will have no fear of dogs. Joey watched golf on TV, and Jonathan and I talked about the Heat. Sadly, they would lose their playoff game later in the evening.

The young-uns left, taking leftovers, and especially the cakes, lest Wifey polish off the sweets during late night TV watching. And then I had a treat -- my Canes on TV.

Before the game, I noticed the Family room was a bit warm. Sure enough -- the A/C was broken -- I diagnosed a shot compressor motor. I called Danny the AC guy, who Norman had referred to me, and sure enough, though it was Saturday night, he called back in 20. Indeed, the unit needed a new motor -- the part covered by warranty, and the labor costing a few hundred dollars.

Danny is coming Monday morning, as soon as he picks up the part. He's the one who suggested I buy Rheem instead of Trane, as Trane parts take a week to get, while Rheem parts are ubiquitous. Danny thanked me for referring him to my friend Mike, who had a few units replaced, and my neighbor Will, who he also did work for. As Norman says, Danny is so good, you almost don't mind when the AC goes out.

And then another house thing -- the burglar alarm went off, saying something about "remote phone failure." I shut it off, but two hours later, it chirped again. I called Arresco, and after a long hold, they put on Leo -- the guy I've been dealing with for 25 years. Leo told me how to disable the unit so it wouldn't get us up at 3 am, and said the issue was with a "downed cell tower" and not our system. Sure enough, when I "woke it up" today, the code was no longer there -- and now I know how to "sleep the system" rather than awake to wee hours chiming, next time there's an issue.

The Canes ended up winning big. It was fun to watch. The Heat now have off several days, and hopefully can win 2 more and make the Finals. That would be something.

In the Anxiety Department, this am I chatted with my neighbor Allison, a retired US State Department worker. She told me she was on a Zoom yesterday with a bunch of retired Feds, and the discussion was led by Dr. Murray, who runs the IHME -- the Public Health research arm of U Washington in Seattle -- funded by Bill Gates.

The message was, unfortunately, that come December, the plague is coming on even stronger than we've seen -- a real shit show. The spike, per the IHME, will result from peoples' "fatigue" with quarantine living, and no national mask requirements. Also, the cold weather will push people back indoors, where spreading will be worse, and increased travel with Covid-weary people will add to the misery.

Long term, though, per Allison and her group, the thing should finally ease by late Spring/early Summer. Vaccines should be widely available by early Spring, and at least the normal people (pro-vaxxers) should be able to get shots by April or so. Hopefully a year from now, this whole awful period will be a nasty piece of history.

So I guess it's just more keepin' on keepin' on.

For now, though, I'm grateful to the Big Man for the RH celebration he gave to us. It was the first for my grandson. May he see many, many, many more...

Live Sports Are Back -- Big.

 So other than the Dolphins, who seem as lost as ever, local sports are back and doing well. My Canes won their first game and are in the Top 20, which seems a bit much, since their opponent was a small school, but we get to see how good they are Saturday night against Louisville, a fellow Top 20 team.

The Marlins, a very young bunch with the MLB's best dietitian, are still in the playoff hunt. It'd be great if they made it -- first time in 17 years.

But the biggest story is the Heat, supposedly in a rebuilding year, and in the Eastern Finals. They remain underdogs, and last night was the first game against the Celtics. And to me, at least, it was a top 5 game I've ever watched.

The Heat trailed for most of it, but kept fighting back. The star, Jimmy Butler, bullied his way to go ahead, and in OT the Celts seemed about to tie, too, but Bam Adabayo executed a block for the ages against a sure dunk. It was something to see. The Heat won, and seem like they may be destined to go all the way.

D2 and Jonathan went nuts. Jonathan LOVES the Heat. Honestly, I'm a bandwagon guy, but the bandwagon is great this year. 

All I know is, it's been a wonderful diversion -- and a winning team really energizes a city.

This am, I passed Evan, the County Attorney, and Alex, the departing UM Med doc. Both stopped me to talk about the Heat. It was nice to discuss something other than the plague for a change.

Meanwhile, it's been otherwise a nice, quiet week. Monday's Zoom was a lot of fun. Tomorrow Wifey and I plan to decamp to D1 and Joey's, so our lady Miriam can clean the house. I'll bring lunch, of course, and we'll get to push our grandson in the new swing Joey installed on an ancient live oak tree in the back yard.

Game 2 of the Eastern Finals is tomorrow night, and that ought to be fun.

Friday's Zoom promises to be a good one. Dr. Barry will be coming off a stressful week in the ICU, and likely much in need of adult beverage therapy. And we're expecting a new addition: Nicole.

Nicole was D1's "work wife" when both were pediatric dietitians at JMH. She's a beautiful and delightful young woman. After D1 left to form her own company, Nicole left for a very high paying job as a trouble shooter for an infant formula company. She moved to Orlando, since she has to cover the whole state. 

Nicole texted the other day. She's engaged to a nice young doctor who works at Palmer Children's Hospital, and wants us to meet him. D1 told her about our Zoom happy hours -- could she join? Of course -- I sent her the link, and I look forward to meeting her new guy, and catching up with Nicole. I promise not to let the young NICU doc and Barry talk business...

So the days of COVID move along. We're fortunate in how we've been able to deal with them.

Saturday we'll celebrate Rosh Hashanah -- Jewish New Year. We'll raise our glasses to another year hopefully with all of us inscribed in the Book of Life. It's all we can hope for...

The Days of Awe Approach

Each Fall I joke that the Days of Awe approach -- referring to the Miami Hurricanes' season. Of course, the REAL Days of Awe are the Jewish High Holidays -- Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.

RH comes first. It is this coming Friday and Saturday. It's worked out well for us, in that the Ds' husbands' families are hosting dinners Friday night, and we get the group Saturday. I plan to pour cocktails, and D1 is bringing food from a friend's catering company. It will be our grandson's first High Holidays. He will be present in his high chair...

The Canes started, too -- with a win over UAB on Thursday. They play again Saturday night, as do the Miami Heat, in the Eastern Finals. I expect the kids will be gone by then, though D2 and Jonathan may linger. I'll even agree to focus on the Heat if they stay late, though I'm a much bigger Canes fan. Gotta make exceptions for family.

The plague news gets better -- fewer new cases and deaths. Tonight we had a fun Zoom with Mike, Cara, Paul/Darriel, and Ronnie. Ronnis is a pistol -- lives in Deering Bay, and is an actual Broadway producer. We talked about shows -- her latest is "Diana," a musical about the dead princess, and the upcoming is a bio musical about Neil Diamond. Both sound formulaic and probably money makers. It's rare there is true originality anymore -- too much money at stake.

We went around the Zoom and each stated our favorite all time musical. Ronnie is still a teacher -- even decades after she retired. For Cara it was "Damn Yankees" -- she saw it when it first came out. Wifey chose "Camelot." Mike said "South Pacific." Paul P and I both said "Book of Mormon." It has Rogers and Hammerstein quality music and is absolutely hilarious.

It was, in short, a great virtual get together. It was a fine way to start the week.

Meanwhile, I walked over 11 miles in the 'hood. Humidity and heat? Ha! I laugh at them...

Everyone keeps saying they want 2020 to end, already. It's, as the Brits say, an annus horribilis. If you go Jewish New Year -- we only have a week left.

Norman invited me to his family shul's virtual service. Beth David is letting you sign on for $25 a sermon. I responded to Norman that I tried to Jew them down to $10 -- and they refused, but I bet I could get the deal erev RH. Norman loved it, but said I now need to fast TWO days for my iconoclasm. He's probably right.

I do plan to reflect, and take stock. To me, that's the true meaning of the changing of the year - Jewish or secular. Where are we going -- where have we been, as Joyce Carol Oates asked.

All I know is, I am MOST thankful for enduring these trying times as we have. I get so see those most sacred to me -- the Ds, their men, and our grandson. I get to see my dear friends on Zoom. I talk to other friends frequently during my frequent constitutionals. It's truly ok.

I pray for the lifting of the plague. I think it'll happen.

In the mean time -- soon adios to 5780, and hello 5781. I hope for a very, very good year.

The Blustery Saturday

 So I caved into Wifey's pressure, and agreed to spend the day at a beach hotel, with our whole, full squad. I really still have reluctance to encounter the public for events that aren't truly important, but D1 and Wifey, especially, wished a day at a cabana, and I went along. We had planned to spend today at the Key Biscayne Ritz Carlton, in a poolside cabana and beachfront umbrellas. We had a room, too, and Wifey was going to spend the night. I had drawn the line there -- no need to be INSIDE a hotel for no real reason, I thought. Wifey, like many women here age, needs "change" a lot, it seems, and absolutely said she needed a night away. I planned to come back Sunday to fetch her.

Alas, the Weather Fates had different plans. A tropical depression is passing, the the forecast was for a fully rainy day. We agreed to cancel. I guess the normally great service RC is understaffed -- it took me the better part of yesterday morning, and no fewer than 8 calls, but I got it canceled. But -- they had entered into "Dave's rule of service."

Dave's rule of service is that if the front line people you meet in a restaurant, hotel, or contractor, are poor -- never expect the experience to get better. When I encounter a nasty host at a restaurant, I turn around and walk out, figuring things will only get worse, not better, if the management can't figure out that your first impression, at least, ought to be good.

So when Wifey and D1 asked to reschedule the RC visit, I said that any hotel that can't even competently handle a simple task surely can't be trusted to follow COVID protocols. Dad the Santa Claus did a rare thing: told the children, this time, their wishes, at least on my dime, would not be coming true.

The truth is, I'm still skittish about doing anything in public until the plague passes. I've found my Zoom happy hours satisfy my needs to commune with friends, and my long walks give me plenty of time to catch up with phone calls with other friends and non nuclear family. I love where I live. I don't have schpilkes, as Wifey calls it, at all -- no ants in my pants about traveling anywhere.

So as the wave passes, and it rains all day, instead the Ds and their men and our wonderful grandson and granddogs, are coming over later. I'll pour cocktails. We'll bring in food from a delicious Peruvian place D2 and I discovered the other day -- we brought in their ceviche while D2 and Betsy were here working for the day so D2's apartment could be cleaned.

This should be my kind of day...

Speaking of Zoom, Stuart called yesterday afternoon -- did I wish a Zoom with him, his young associate Josh, and Rabbi Dovi? Rabbi Dovi is 28 and very wise -- he visits us on Brickell -- still does with Stu. He's the son of a Chabad biblical scholar, and has an intellectual's take on things -- discussing the meaning of time and space in the context of Torah. I truly enjoy his wisdom.

So -- at 4:30, I grabbed my herbal tea, the Brickell group drank aged single malt, and Rabbi gave us a wonderful sermon about the upcoming end of the Jewish year. A part of it is that each Jew much hear the sound of the shofar. But Dovi explained that is only a sound -- the context and meaning are much deeper.

He told the parable of the rich man who invited all the poor people in his town to a great feast. When they arrived, there was an empty table, and a bell. The rich man rang the bell, and servers brought forth a great feast. He invited each of his guests to take home whatever they chose -- dishes, silverware, food.

One simpleton said he would take the bell -- reasoning that by ringing it, he could get whatever he wanted. He rang it the next day and was shocked when no feast came forth.

The point is, the bell is just a sound -- it needed a powerful master to use it for actual benefit. And so it is, per Rabbi Dovi, with the shofar -- you have to hear it, but in a vacuum it is just the bleating of a ram's horn.

We joked that social media is rife with pleas for 2020 to end -- such an annus horribilis -- horrible year. I told the Rabbi I was telling my non Jewish friends to accept the new Jewish year coming -- 5781, as the end of the strife. 5780 can't be over soon enough!

But as for me and my house -- we look most forward to today. I am far more chill not being somewhere else -- at least for now. As Jonathan noted, with the money saved on the Ritz, there is more Stoli Elit. Indeed, my son in law is wise beyond his years -- like his 28 year old cohort, Rabbi Dovi...

Erev 9/11

 So 19 years ago tomorrow, I thought we had entered the scariest time in the history of our nation, at least in my lifetime. Nineteen years later, the plague said "hold my beer."

Still, it was a terrible time. I was in my car on the way to my office that day. We had an important meeting -- clients were coming in to sign off on a multi million dollar settlement -- a case Paul and I worked on with our former boss, Ed. The parents were, to put it politely, white trash types from West Broward, and the husband had fallen asleep smoking. A bad fire broke out, burning their little girl. We sued the apartment management company for failing to check the batteries in the smoke detector. Back in the day, we had lots of success with those kinds of cases. That was one of them.

Wifey called me. I still remember -- I was near 27th Avenue and US 1. "I sure am glad your office is on the first floor," she said. I asked why -- she said a small plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. At that moment, it seemed like a bad, but not horrific, accident. I agreed -- it would be pretty tough to crash a plane into a first floor Brickell office.

By the time I got to said office, we knew it was far worse. We watched in horror on the small office TV as the second plane came, and as we finished with the clients, the buildings collapsed. Our legal work was done.

Thankfully, Wifey had fetched the Ds, from Leewood Elementary and Palmetto Middle School. They were all safe at home. 

The other two planes had crashed, and it seemed that might be the extent of the operation. It was around 1 pm.

Ed, ever the pragmatist, and a man with a constant appetite, said we'd might as well go ahead with our celebratory lunch. So we drove the 5 blocks to Morton's. It was pretty empty. We ordered martinis and NY Strips. Ed knew right away the thing would prove to be a stunt -- not an ongoing war. He knew aviation. He had worked on explosives in the US Army, and marveled at the "evil creativity" of using wide body jets as bombs.

We toasted to the health of our families. We toasted to our success with the case. We toasted to better times for our beloved nation.

Sure enough, within a few weeks, life essentially returned to normal, other than at Ground Zero. Of course, the day ushered in the era of "security theater," where  Homeland Security makes a big show at airports. Israelis know, and knew better. The only way to stop terrorists is to profile passengers at the airport. We don't like to profile in the US.

9/11 was an awful tragic day. I am happy I don't know directly anyone killed in the crashes. I know people who know people -- that's the closest degree of separation.

Meanwhile, at least in Florida, the plague seems to be easing. The numbers of new cases have been at the lowest levels since June, and, so far, it seems the feared post Labor Day spike hasn't occurred.

I actually took a car in for service today -- Wifey's SUV needed an oil change and tire rotation/wheel alignment. I dropped off the vehicle, and started walking home, and then was picked up a mile later by D2 and Betsy. She's working here today while Miriam, our cleaning lady, does her condo. We've worked out a new schedule -- Miriam alternates weeks between our house and D2 and Jonathan's. Hopefully it will continue when they move into their new townhouse -- I'm guessing late October.

And sports have returned for me, as a nice diversion. The Heat made the Eastern Finals! And, closer to my heart, the Canes play tonight. Mike and Chris are my only friends going to the game -- but I look most forward to watching on TV. As the song about the show about the bar says... to forget about life for awhile.

Still -- 9/11 was a day to remember, forever. May we never see another one like it.

Now THAT Was A Fine Friday

 The tensosity around these parts is definitely on the wane, and yesterday was a fine day.

After a 6.3 mile am constitutional, D1 texted that she and Joey and the baby would be stopping by to fetch their spoiled Spaniel and feed our "chubby and chill" grandson. They did, and Wifey and I played with the little feller for awhile -- he is a delight -- laughing, and already the master of many hilarious expressions. 

Wifey made him a texture box -- a box of different fabrics and materials. His Mom, D1, LOVED to play with that when she was a baby. Well, her son seemed more interested in tasting everything, and that was just fine with us. He much preferred touching the strange rescue dog, who insisted on licking his face. It was almost illegally adorable.

The young-uns left, and I walked the balance of my hoped for 10 miles per day, in a great conversation with my California sister. Her oldest, 38, has had the most challenging times lately of his life, but is hopefully poised for new, positive changes, and my sister was soaring at the possibilities. I cheered her on, of course -- she is off today with her younger son to go visit the young man. I wish them Godspeed.

After a nice, cooling pool dip, it was time for Eric and Dana's 6:30 shabbat. It's been just over a week since their matriarch, Barbra, died, and her spirit was very much with all of us. We said kaddish at the end of the meeting. Eric and Dana's kids and kids in law and lovely granddaughter were over for an early dinner, and it was nice to see them all gathered.

I jumped off to host my Zoom, and folks were late arriving, but D2 FaceTimed me from the park, as the enormous puppy Betsy was fetching a ball. Eric, Dana, Josh and Ales joined the Zoom, and D2 and Betsy took part via FaceTime. It was lovely to do as I sipped my Stoli Elit and tonic.

Barry joined the Zoom from his commute home, and the three stooges of UM and Dana and Wifey all laughed a lot and talked of times old and to come, making good natured fun of the parents of today, our daughters, and how they're, well, a bit "more involved" than we were. And we thought we were over protective then...

The Zoom ended, and Wifey and I watched the Heat -- it was late in the third quarter. They were down, big, and I told Wifey they would surely lose. Ha. As if. Jimmy Butler took over again, and they rallied to win by 15. The series is now 3-0, and no NBA team has ever lost when up 3-0. It seems the Heat is headed to the Eastern Finals.

We FaceTimed D2 and Jonathan. The Heat is to Jonathan as the Canes are to me. He was flying -- promising to name any first born sons after Heat stars. I totally got it.

Then Josh G FaceTimed -- home from work, and pouring a cocktail for himself and Dr. Barry. We chatted with him awhile -- Donna was headed out for a Dunkin coffee run. Wifey was jealous -- she wanted a donut and decaf, too...

We all said goodnight, and I went to sleep very buzzed and happy. With more Fridays like yesterday, surviving the plague is quite do-able --even enjoyable.

Heppy Ann -i -VER -Sari

 The title is how my suegra wishes Wifey and I happy anniversary, in her Polish-Yiddish accented English. We always found it quaint.

And now, somehow, I'm so old that my DAUGHTER is celebrating her wedding anniversary -- three years since she married Joey, tomorrow. Amazing how the years truly fly by.

Thankfully, with the plague easing, they were able to go away to celebrate -- a covid compliant beach resort in Key Largo. Yesterday they stopped by and dropped off the spoiled Spaniel, and gave the beautiful grandson some lunch. Then they were off to their room on the Gulf, and three nights away from home.

The Spaniel is very happy with her fellow Cavalier, and strange mutt rescue, Vienna. All three have been a pack, off and on, over the years, and are very adept at napping at comically different positions. I have now taken a couple of THREE dog naps, and it's great to have them here.

Wow. Three years. It seems like a long time ago, and yet the days have flown by. We got the wedding in as Hurricane Irma had all of Florida in her sights. The music was awesome -- a true group of professional salsa musicians, who had everyone who could up dancing. We had a terrific time -- starting the night before with a cocktail party at Trulucks that transitioned to Sugar, 50 stories above Miami. It was an embodiment of Tom Petty's "Room at the Top of the World," where we drank heavily and laughed even more heavily.

One of my dear brothers was the drunkest I have ever seen him, and I loved it. Thankfully he recovered in time to continue to celebrate the next night, at the historic Scottish Rite Temple, near the Miami River.

My mother in law was there -- and when asked to shush during the service, showed her then aid Gloria no one shushes Rachel. Her loud words made a memorable wedding service even more memorable.

Later in the evening, Gloria asked my help in loading Rachel into her car for the trip home. As I wheeled her by the Miami River, I "nearly had an accident" and tipped the chair into the dark waters. Fortunately I regained my footing, and it was not necessary to heavily bribe the City of Miami cop who acted as security for us.

Ha. Just kidding.

A few days after the wedding, we fled town from the storm. As D1 said, nothing says honeymoon like 17 hours in a packed SUV with your in laws. But Joey and I actually enjoyed it. WAZE was a new thing, and I was often Joey's navigator with it -- taking us off I-75 through rural North Florida towns to avoid the traffic tie ups, or search for gas.

After the storm passed, we drove back -- D1 and Joey's Midtown condo had power -- Wifey and I didn't. So Wifey and I stayed with the dogs in a Downtown Hotel for a week, and then moved to the Hyatt Gables. Finally power was restored to our part of Pinecrest, and life resumed.

8 months ago, D1 and Joey blessed us with a bouncing, literally, baby boy. D2 and Jonathan married last January, and returned to the 305. They'll close on their first house together in the coming weeks, in the Grove.

So it seems our family's latest, most modern part, began three years ago, tomorrow. I wish my kids many, many returns. Hopefully it's three years down, and a lifetime of great memories to go.

And I am one very cool, happy, rockin Daddy and Granddaddy in the USA.

The Diversion of Sports

 I am a huge Canes fan -- have been since I was a freshman in 1979. So many of my precious life memories involve family and close friends at tailgate parties, or game watch parties, or away game trips to see our beloved orange and green.

The plague dimmed my passion, however. The fog of tensosity that sits over everything took away how much I care. I truly believe the ACC should cancel the season, as the Big 10 and Pac 12 have, but I guess the money loss was too much for them. So we instead have games starting in a few weeks, with only 13K fans allowed to attend. Yesterday I had my chance to request any games I desired. I took a pasadena -- I'll let them apply the money I paid to next year.

I root for the Marlins, especially since D1 is the team dietitian. They've been a great client, and I'm so proud of her. Plus, I was at the very first game they played, and always take in a few games per season -- until this one, of course -- no fans allowed.

And then there's the Heat. I was also at their first game, and followed them through their history, but in truth, I'm a front running fan. When the Heat win big, I follow them. When they lose, I ignore them.

My son in law Jonathan is the opposite -- he LOVES that team. He grew up watching them win rings -- one with D Wade and Shaq, and then another pair with the Big Three. When he and D2 lived in NYC, a big thrill for him was watching his boys play the Knicks and Nets. We watched a lot of the Big Three games together when they lived here -- it's really fun to watch with a true fan.

Well, this season, Jonathan said the team would be terrific. Of course, all games are being played in the Orlando bubble, but they count. And the Heat won their first playoff series since '16 -- swept the Pacers. And last night they opened the Eastern semi finals against the Bucks, who were favored.

And the Heat won! Wifey and I watched -- the star player the Heat acquired last year, Jimmy Butler, truly took over the game. Jonathan had told me he had that ability -- and I saw it last night. It was exciting.

The game was the first sporting event that actually excited me since the plague started. It was a nice feeling -- to be immersed in something for a few hours, and forget about all the negativity in the world these days.

A judge I know, Yvonne, is also a huge Heat fan. She posted that she NEEDED the Heat to win -- to give her that essential diversion. She got it last night.

So I'm invested again. They play tomorrow, and every two days. If they win this best of 7, they go to the Eastern Finals. That would be a huge accomplishment.

So go Heat! Nice to care about sports again.