You Can't Fix Stupid

 Years ago, comedian Ron White had a great routine, which I can paraphrase. If your lady is a little light in the chest, you can get her implants. If she's a bit saggy -- butt lift. If her face ain't pretty -- plastic surgery is for that. But if she's stupid -- nothing you can do. You can't fix stupid.

And so it is on politics. At the Ds' request, I stayed clear of FaceBook (tm) for awhile. But her siren call proved too strong -- and as we near the biggest election of our lives, I'm back. Monday night I even violated a self imposed rule: I commented under the influence of alcohol. Hell -- I'm nastier and funnier when I do that.

I have a friend I'll call Rob, since that's his name, who is the polar opposite of my friend Kenny. I always say that in sheer brain power, Kenny is my smartest friend, and Rob is, well, the dumbest. He's a nice fellow, and fun to attend Canes games with, but confines his reading to far right sites that even embarrass Fox News.

Lately, like all of his ilk, his posts are all aflutter with anti Biden stuff, along with the typical anti Obama and anti Hillary stuff, as if the latter two were in the running. Eventually, he admitted his belief: COVID-19 was intentionally sent to the US by the Chinese government, in order to cause the defeat of Trump, the first US president the evil and inscrutable Chinese truly feared. Wow. Norman texted me in disbelief -- this was next level, Jedi type craziness. Sadly, Rob is alone. His many FaceBook friends, all seemingly from North Florida, Georgia, and the rest of the Southeast, agree completely. 

As Tony Soprano said -- yeah, but what are ya gonna do? To me, the issue is simple, as a recent Atlantic Monthly article stated: we're about to find out how America chooses to deal with the epidemic. I hope the majority truly wish to employ science and reason to deal with this scourge the best possible way. I guess we'll have an idea next week.

Meanwhile, it's been a pretty nice week. I've exceeded 10 miles walking each day. Last night I did a bit of work, such as it is, on a conference with Paul, Stuart, and Stuart's young Turk, Josh.

The new icemaker installed by Glyn's Service strangely but happily started working after a week. I had bought a countertop model, and I can move that to the football room now. Also, if D2 and Jonathan ever get to open their rooftop patio space, it'll be nice for them to have, too.

Today D2 is here working, with Betsy. The strangest thing happened with the large Pyragold. All of a sudden, during yesterday's excursion, she looked up and saw the soaring turkey vultures, which just returned to Miami for the Winter, and freaked out. She darted for home. Luckily, Jonathan corralled her before she became a victim of a car on South Bayshore, but whenever she went out, she'd look skyward and act petrified. D2 and Jonathan are trying to figure this out -- wondering what happened during her early puppyhood in South Carolina to trigger this strange reaction.

The turkey vultures are hear until May, so we'll have to overcome this. It truly is the damndest thing -- the big dog looks skyward, and tucks her tail and slinks away. They'll figure it out.

Tonight my old friend Michelle and Stuart and I have a Zoom reunion. Michelle wanted to meet for lunch, but I told her I was avoiding that for now, mostly, so Zoom it shall be.

Tomorrow night we have our regular one, which I really enjoy, with Eric, Dana, Barry, his sons, and Kenny. We solve all problems. If only the nation would listen to us.

And Saturday, weather permitting, we have a banner day planned. D1 rented us a cabana at a local beachside hotel, in Bal Harbor. We plan to meet, share lunch, and enjoy some socially distanced time together.

It's Halloween, and we bought candy. I'll set up two folding chairs outside the front gates -- one with our stuffed Frankenstein monster, who has been our Halloween staple since the early 90s, and the other holding a bowl of self serve trick or treat candy. Based on neighborhood decorations, and the new crop of kids in the 'hood, I'm thinking we will get some customers.

It's sad -- one of my yearly pleasures is giving candy to the kids. Some years we get between 50 and 100. This year it'll be a suckier version of normal. Pretty much like everything.

I called the pool company to come out to give me an estimate for a resurfacing. The pool is 23 years old, and you're lucky if you get 10 without needing a resurface. Young Brian showed up -- I recognized him. He and his father did the major cleanout three years ago, after Irma turned the pool into a tree limb pit. He recalled the job. He's drawing up an estimate.

I told Brian I felt worse for the young guys like him during the pandemic. He said he's actually pretty much a homebody -- doesn't enjoy crowds anyway, but he DOES miss travel.

I didn't ask him about politics...

Rounding the Corner

 So as each day sees record numbers of the plague, the schmuck in the White House says we're "rounding the turn." As I read that yesterday, I thought about my Dad. He truly would NOT have believed this guy is the leader of the free world. I don't either.

Meanwhile, it was a pretty nice weekend here, despite the monsoon weather we've been having. D1 and the baby came over Saturday, as did D2 and her large, furry baby. My sons in law had golf and a get together with visiting buds instead, and we had a lovely time here.

The baby has been fully indoctrinated into our culture -- the one involving an absolute infestation of dogs. Wifey and the Ds LOVE dogs, and the baby crawled around with them, petting them, and every once in awhile, one would steal a huge lick of his beautiful, chubby face. The "awwwww" factor was very high.

At around 5:30 pm, both SUVs pulled away, and I put away all the baby equipment. I settled in to watch my Canes play UVA, and they won, ugly. It was pouring rain, and the Canes played poorly, but still came out with a win. I went to sleep late, a very happy man.

Yesterday, the rain abated enough to let me do some of my daily constitutional. I try to log 10 miles a day -- yesterday I got in 5. I had a long talk with my California sister, who is doing great for the first time in a long while, as her troubled older son seems on a good path. She and I share a trait that some parents are, I guess, fortunate to be able to avoid or block out: when one of our kids is distressed, so are we. We live the classic soul song lyrics: when something is wrong with my baby...something is wrong with me.

But for now, things are well on the left coast, and she is, too. That gladdens me -- a lot.

Around 5:30, Wifey and I fired up the girlie Lexus sedan, and headed out. I fetched some Anthony's Coal Fired pizza and wings, and we headed over to Kenny's lovely screened in patio. Kenny's wife and sons are still in Maine until the weather there gets untenable -- probably another few weeks - and Kenny poured some cocktails and baked some Brussel sprouts, and we ate and talked -- about politics, and kids, and , eventually, about G-d him (or herself, as Wifey prefers). It was a very normal -type social encounter. Although I've come to accept the Zoom meetings, being together in person is still the best.

We drove home in yet more rain. Apparently there's a passing storm in the Gulf that is keeping the monsoons here -- hopefully they're a precursor to lovely, late Fall Miami weather. The weather app says it's pretty clear this am -- I'll try to get in 6 or 7 miles, since the afternoon promises yet more rain.

I set up the Monday 5:30 Zoom, which has morphed into a Wifey event. Edna, Cara, Ronnie, and Lili do a lot of the talking, and Darriel usually logs in later. The only men, sometimes, are Jeff, Mike, and I. And that's ok -- I like my twice weekly martinis, and still can't start the drinking alone thing, so the company is fine.

We avoid politics, as Edna, Cara, and Ronnie are all Trump voters. Kenny and Wifey and I discussed that last night -- Kenny simply can't abide that -- for good reason. As he points out -- you can be a fine person and vote GOP -- but can you really be a fine person and support the man who truly opposes our entire form of a democratic government?

Wifey defends her friends -- their fear of the underclass "coming for us" if the Dems get into power. Nah. Not going to happen.

And when it comes down to it -- really the only issue now is the awful plague, and the fact that the lack of leadership here is making it the worst of any civilized nation, by far.

I hope voters see that, and give an admittedly flawed candidate, the too old Biden, a victory.

If not -- well, then I guess I'll simply adopt the comedian Dave Chappelle's approach -- stick around and enjoy the tax cuts for the rich.

I guess either way, the plague WILL pass -- it'll just be a question of how many it kills and maims before it ends. If the majority of swing state voters decide it's acceptable, well, we'll just try to keep ourselves as safe as possible and watch the absurdity.

And I'll keep thinking of my Dad. He would NOT have believed it.

House Upkeep

 Ah, the joys of homeownership, especially for an aging homeowner. Poor Wifey, stuck here because of my refusal to move -- the other day, as we walked Williams Island with Paul and Patricia, she told me again how she needs to live "with more of a breeze in the summer." Talking to all of my friends with wives past a certain age -- it's uncanny. The men all want stability and no hassles. The women all have restlessness and want "change." Oh well.

So thankfully it appears storm season has spared us, but I decided I no longer wished to have to put up any panels when a cane approaches. The upstairs are mostly plastic windows, the state of the art when the house was built in '97, but they didn't have big impact windows available then. So in two stages, I had accordion shutters put in on the larger doors and windows, leaving 11 small openings for panels, as well as the front door and two adjacent windows. I decided it was time to finish the job.

I asked a neighbor, Gloria, who she had used for her job. She HATED them, and said she wished she used a local company called R and S. I called R and S, and Charlie, the grandson of the founder came out and measured. Turns out doing the front door and adjacent windows will cost about $9K, and the other 11 in the back and garage another $9K. He also referred me an accordion company, as the one I used for the older job never got back with me. Marlon, of Alum World, came and measured, and told me the 11 openings would cost $2 K to accordion. Since there were already other accordions, I hired them.

Yesterday Wifey and I went over to R and S to pick out color and hardware for our new impact door. Charlie said they'd be ready to install about January. I said as long as it was before June...

After we left, we drove past our first house, on 125th Terrace. I laughed that we paid $86.5K for that house, and now are spending 20% of that for just a door and some windows. Funny how things change...

And Wifey reminded me how happy we were in that tiny house, from '86-'90. We had a big black lab and a cute cocker spaniel. They were like our children. We used to love sitting out back in the screened in the "Florida room," and playing fetch with Midnight the Lab.

Later , we brought home D1, and she lived there her first two years -- starting to talk, and learning to walk. They were good times. Damn good times.

So I also have to have our pool re-done. Amazingly, the surface has lasted 23 years, but is starting to go. Wifey wants to do a lot of landscaping -- and I told her she's in charge of that. She also wants to see completed the redecorating job -- paused due to Covid.

Also, Wifey has to order new appliances. Our refrigerator is 14 years old, and stopped making ice. I had a service guy replace the icemaker -- still, no ice. The stove, though rarely used, is also on the way out. Wifey will decide what she wants, and get the appliances ordered. Apparently refrigerators now take months to get. We can survive until then. First world problems.

Just Can't Admit They're Wrong About Trump

 As we near, hopefully, the end of the election season, one factor annoys me most: otherwise logical GOP friends who simply cannot, or will not, admit that Trump has been an abomination. I get conservative views. As I age,  I have plenty more of them myself. I can't abide BLM, for instance, as they ally themselves with Palestinian terror groups. But being a conservative or GOP member is one thing. Supporting Trump is quite another.

I've always been proud of my ability to admit a mistake. I've found it quite liberating to live free from the burden of always being correct. I guess that's a rare trait.

In 1980 I got to vote for the first time. I registered a Democrat, which was my birthright. The Dem incumbent was Jimmy Carter. He was, in my opinion, one of the worst presidents we've had. I mean -- not a crook like Nixon, or off the charts like Trump bad, but wholly inept. The economy was awful. We had little international respect.

I had spent the summer before with several European and Israeli students. They all told me that an American passport used to be a big deal. A customs agent would see one and feel respect. Under Carter -- they laughed. A bunch of Iranian students, holding the US Embassy hostage, laughed at him.

Closer to home, Fidel Castro ate Carter's lunch. The Mariel Boatlift occurred, as Castro laughingly empties his prisons and mental hospitals and sent the inmates to Miami. Carter did nothing. No -- I absolutely admitted my party's candidate was no one I could support.

On the other side, I couldn't abide Reagan. So I voted for John Anderson -- a moderate Independent. I knew my vote wouldn't get my candidate elected, but at least I admitted my party's guy shouldn't get another term, either.

I hope enough Republicans do the same, and end this executive nightmare.

Meanwhile, closer to home, we had a busy week. D2 and Jonathan dropped off the big puppy, and she was a handful. By the third night, I was saying there could be no more overnight stays -- the dog was just too much. But she calmed down, looked at us with her soulful eyes, and finally got used to our lower energy house. She is invited back now.

When D2 and Jonathan came to fetch her, they were so happy. She's their baby girl. Wifey and I get this well -- before D1, our retriever Midnight and cocker Alfred were OUR kids. When we left my Mom and her friend Rose to dog sit them in '87, we would call daily from California to check on them. D2 and Jonathan are in that stage.

I had a repairman come to replace our icemaker. Alas -- even with the new one, no ice. The problem is, there's a major back log on built in refrigerators. Jeff and Lili ordered one in June and still don't have it. So I ordered a countertop icemaker -- due to arrive today. I figure that will keep me in martinis until we can replace the big, hulking fridge.

I also had a fellow come for an estimate for a new impact front door and side windows. I have accordions on many of the doors, but don't want them in the part of the house where they're most visible. I also had him give an estimate for 11 other panel windows -- I'm too damn old to mess with putting up panels and returning them to the garage.

The estimate for the whole job came to about 1/4 of what we paid for our first house! So I hedged -- got an estimate to accordion the remaining back and garage windows, and will pay for the new front door and windows to be impact glass. Once the job is done, my storm prep will be only pulling shut accordions -- a job that takes less than an hour.

I'm truly hoping that spending this money means we keep storms away for years. That would be best.

So -- another week nears its end. Wifey and I are headed to Aventura today, for an outdoor, socially spaced lunch with Paul and Patricia. We have to flee Miriam, our cleaning lady. It'll be the first served restaurant meal since March 12th. The Ds have signed off and encouraged it. So hopefully we survive this "less than Covid safe" behavior.

If not -- at least I can admit I was wrong to do it!

How Many Year Do You Get?

 So we spent a nice Saturday up in Shorecrest. I wanted to watch the Canes game, which was on the ACC Network, which we, as UVerse people get, but D1 and Joey don't. Alas -- Paul had bought a subscription to FUBU TV and shared his info with me, and I watched our victory over Pitt in high def on my IPad. Wifey happily played the whole time with the grandson.

After his nap, we took a family outing -- to a small nursery right on Biscayne in MiMo. No one was there, and the plants were double price what Home Depot charges, but we bought an orchid and a pony palm for Wifey. It was our first outing, albeit distanced and brief, since the plague began.

Back home, we took the baby for a stroll in his beloved blue car. The 18 houses were almost all decorated for Halloween. It was lovely. We left for home some very happy grandparents in the USA.

At 7:30, we had another treat - a Zoom cocktail hour with Deb and Norm. We caught up on all the news of life, and our kids' lives, and spoke about Max, one of my heroes. Max is 93 and a true patriarch of his family -- with, I think great grand kids in the teen numbers, and a LOT of grand kids.

If I can have a life like Max's in my ninth decade, I'd be thrilled. Sadly, he is such an outlier. For my Mom, father in law, and ancient mother in law, the quality of life is much lower.

As I have long known, it seems we either die too young, or too old. It's rare that, like Goldilocks, it's "just right."

Sunny did have joy up to the end, but her family fell far short of the devotion Max enjoys. She had 4 great grandchildren -- I think they saw her only 2 times in her final year. Her oldest grandson, her favorite, was "weirded out" by her declining appearance, and never visited her in the nursing home during her last 11 months. She used to ask me about him, and at first I would lie and say he was "incredibly busy," but later on I just changed the subject.

Still -- my dear friend Mirta visited Sunny often, and feels privileged. She says she was more impacted by that 92 year old than anyone else -- how Mom always kept happy, and optimistic, and appreciated small things.

When you'd walk her outside, she'd exclaim how wonderful the sun felt on her skin. We'd wheel her to a gazebo that had an ice cream vending machine, and buy her a chipwich, which she'd unfailingly say was "the best ice cream I've ever had."

Norman and Deb realize how lucky they are to have Max. Norman speaks to him nightly, and they share distance meals once in awhile. I really wish I could speak with my Dad.

Today, our life is going to get a bit more busy. D2 and Jonathan are dropping off Betsy, the enormous puppy, for a stay with us. They're headed to a local hotel for a much needed change of scenery, and we'll integrate Betsy into our dog world for 4 nights. She is so tall -- nothing is off limits to her inquisitiveness. She is very sweet and energetic. And she is very big.

Other than that, the days pass, each to each. I thank the Big Man for each one he gives me, and will give me.

If they're healthy and full, it'd be nice to get as many as Max.

The Fine Season

 I love Miami and never want to live anywhere else, but, like Wifey, the heat and humidity of the long Summer bothers me more than it used to. I totally get the wisdom of the snowbirds -- a group we used to make fun of. They enjoy the milder weather up North, and return here for the glorious temps of Fall through Spring.

Thankfully, we're headed for the nicer temperatures. For the past few walks, my shirts are just sweaty -- not soaked through. A few mornings ago, after a night of rain, I actually felt just the hint of what I can call coolness. It didn't last.

I'd say about a quarter of the time, the weather is glorious by Halloween. I remember, especially, 2005. Hurricane Wilma hit, and knocked out our power. Wifey and the Ds decamped to Atlanta, to stay with Edna. I got a room at a local hotel to be able to have hot showers, but I didn't need to sleep there. The evenings were cool, and I happily slept with the windows open.

My friend Pat, who lived across the street, was also a post Wilma bachelor. His wife and kids decamped to Orlando. Pat and I would drink together on each other's porches, and talk of football and life, in the cool evening breeze. It is a very nice memory.

Today, following a short, for me walk, I came back home. The tree trimmers returned to fetch the large piles of debris the actual cutting crews left over their 2 days of work. After they left, I sat at my pond -- and realized I hadn't done that for months. The koi were all there, happily, as were the cichlids. The plecos had recovered from the pleco plague. It was strange -- when COVID started, several of the big algae eaters died. I'm sure it was just a coincidence. But the survivors thrived, and grew. A few of them are now 2 feet long, happily sucking away at the algae on the rocks, and the shells of the terrapins.

The sky was a gorgeous blue. The palms, nicely and professionally trimmed, looked stately. I had a sense that we're headed for the nicer time of the year.

Last night we had a nice Zoom, with Eric, Dana, and Kenny. We talked about politics, and COVID, of course, but also of fun memories of places we've been. The large vodka martini washed over me well -- Wifey wants me to drink every day for the mood it puts me in. Nah. A few times per week seems to do the trick.

Today we'll head up to D1 and Joey's, to play with the grandson. I'm leaving a house that gets the ACC network, where I could watch my Canes play Pitt, to go to a house where it's not on TV. I may try to get it on an APP, but being a grandfather trumps being a Cane fan, forgiving the word, trump.

We'll probably take the baby over to Biscayne Bay -- to feel the breezes and have him be with the souls of his late great grandparents, including my Dad, whose name is the baby's middle name.

The virus is awful. It's affected all of us in bad ways. But if you're stuck, there are far worse places to be stuck than Miami. Especially with the weather turning.

My Father's Son

 My hero in life, my Dad, had a mischievous streak. After he retired, at 60, it increased -- probably due to his active mind needing things to occupy itself.

One of my favorite tales was the Publix Rye Bread Incident of 1980. He went with my Mom to the Delray Publix, and she sent him over to the bakery counter to get bread. There was a line, and it consisted of several very cranky old Jews complaining about having to wait so long.

My Dad was always flummoxed by that attitude. These people were retired, with no real place to be, other than maybe cards or golf or mah jong, or the early bird specials at the restaurants. What was their rush?

So he sidled up to one loud complainer, and said, in a low voice, "The reason the line is so long is that today they're giving away free rye breads, but clearly they're running out." My Dad said this knowing, of course, that rye bread was the true staple of our fellow Ashkenazim, and the thought that there might be free samples denied was, as they say, a shonda.

Sure enough, the old man became livid with Publix, and started spreading the false rumor my Dad concocted. Within moments, there arose a cry more desperate than anything we've been hearing lately from the BLM people before they loot stores. "We VANT OUR FREE BREAD!!!!"

Close to a riot ensued. The Bakery manager had to stand up on the counter, and announce: "Remain calm. There is NO free rye bread! There is plenty of bread for sale. Please be patient."

My mother wheeled her cart over and saw what was happening. She lightly scolded my father. When I heard the story, it made my month back at UM.

Well -- fast forward 4 decades. The other day I posted a photo on FaceBook (tm) of a neighbor's lawn, filled with plastic orange and black flamingos. There was a sign "You have been flocked by the Palmetto Middle PTSA." Apparently, as a fundraiser, you can pay to have a group come by during the night and plant these ornaments on a neighbor's lawn. I thought it was a lovely, nice thing, and so shared it on my page.

I have a neighbor and FB (tm) friend I'll call Roberta, since that's her name. We used to live West of the Falls, and our daughters went to school together. She has two -- lovely girls, both young lawyers now. Years ago, she announced that she was leaving her long time husband, a CPA. I said to Wifey immediately -- she's gay -- she has a woman.

Wifey scoffed. How absurd. Turns out I was dead on, and now she and her older wife, another lovely lady, bought a house in our 'hood.

Roberta is VERY liberal, sometimes to the point of espousing lefty causes that I find silly. And sure enough, last night she asked if my photo of the orange and black birds was taken in our 'hood. I replied it was, and directed her to the house.

She responded "How awful. They must have dyed those poor birds." It took me a moment, and then it sank in. She thought the plastic flamingos were real, and victims of animal cruelty.

My Dad kicked in. I responded that they weren't died, but came from a "special farm" down in the Redlands which specialized in breeding various colored flamingos, for people to buy and have pecking around their lawns for holiday festivity. I said they had green and red ones for Xmas, and were working on a new strain of red, white, and blue ones for July 4.  Roberta replied that was interesting.

Norman chimed in, too, and talked about how the former owner of Hialeah Park, a made guy, demanded even pinker flamingos, and that's where the mystical Redlands farm started.

Well -- I'm mean but not cruel, and I private messaged Roberta telling her the flamingos were plastic -- and not to call PETA about it. She appreciated I cut short the prank on FB.

Oy. What times we live in. People are still planning to vote for Trump, even though there is zero rational reason to do so. But last night reminds us that even my fellow Leftys are easily led astray sometimes, too.

And for me, the spirit of my beloved, late Dad is very much alive in his wise ass son.

Still Not Back

 Ah, to be a Miami Hurricanes fan. When I first joined the club, in the Fall of 1979, I had moderate expectations. The school had discussed getting rid of football a few years before, and instead voted to give it one final chance. They hired a coach with NFL experience, Howard Schnellenberger, and his first season was my freshman year. They went 5-6, but we beat the hated Gators in the final game -- their WORST season ever -- they went 0-10-1. But football at the Orange Bowl was a lot of fun, and my friends and I enjoyed it. And then the team got better.

By my junior year, we went 9-2, and missed out on a bowl game because of some NCAA infraction. And then, my first year at law school, before classes began, we all drove to Gainesville for the first game. The Gators beat us handily, but there was a ray of hope: a freshman QB named Kosar who looked really good. Sure enough, we won the rest of our games, including one of the greatest -- an upset win over Nebraska for our first National Championship. I never thought I'd get to see that. And then, with 4 different coaches, we won FOUR MORE rings -- and should have won another, but for an all time blown call by a ref.

Well -- the glory days ended nearly 2 decades ago, and every season, we think "we're back" but then falter. The faltering came last night -- we were ranked #7 and played Clemson, ranked #1. Clemson is like we were back in the day -- and they beat us handily. Oh well...

I still look forward to returning, hopefully next season, to the tailgate parties, and great games. But as for being a top team? We may never pass that way again, at least in my lifetime.

But more importantly, Jonathan returned safely from his business trip to Mexico. D2 and he will get COVID tests tomorrow, and hopefully test negative, so we can all meet in person again. D2 will come over with her enormous puppy Thursday, and work here, so Miriam can clean her apartment. We've established a nice routine: I make her Daddy eggs for lunch, and then we bring in some food for dinner, and she takes some home for Jonathan. It makes Thursdays lovely.

I think D1 and her baby may come over next Saturday -- Joey may go golfing. That baby is a joy to be around -- chubby and chill -- and now laughing -- a lot.

Today I'll watch the Fins probably lose to the 49ers, and then the Heat, who I thought would be done by now, play game 6 in the Finals at 7:30. If they can somehow pull off another upset -- I think they may indeed win game 7 and bring home a championship -- with all the banging on pots and pans our fans are famous for.

So the Canes are still not back. And that's ok. I'm just glad they're still playing -- all signs of normalcy in these crazy times are welcome, indeed.

A Fine-Ass Friday

 So it was a quiet week here in Pinecrest. Thursday we went to D1's, and spent a lovely day with the grandson. Wifey and I napped, and played with the little man, and then, later in the day, watched his first swim lesson. He handled it like a young Mark Spitz -- took to the water beautifully.

Happily, Jonathan returned safely from Mexico, though Hurricane Delta caused a re-route for his return trip. Instead of a non stop flight, he had to stop in Dallas, and then made it safely back home.

Today, I walked a LOT -- talked with my Florida sister, and then Edna, Wifey's BFF. It was the latter's birthday, and we talked for an entire hour.

No nap today, but the day flew by. And then, at 7, I had a great Zoom with Eric, Dana, Barry and his boys, with cameo appearances by Scott's lady Sam, and the family matriarch, Donna.

While we drank and talked, Wifey was in the background cooking -- her typical Friday beef boulanaisse -- a great recipe from D1. I ate as I drank, and Barry and his family ate, too. It was lovely.

Close to 9, we said our goodbyes, and I put on "The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle" on Sonos. Wifey actually said "This is good -- who is this?"

I felt like Steve Guttenberg's character in "Diner," where he would only marry his fiancee if she passed a test about the Baltimore Colts. Wifey LOVES Springsteen -- how could she not know this record???? Dudes and chicks are just different, I guess.

I had told Wifey I was looking forward to this Zoom -- I last drank Monday. Wifey wants me to drink MORE often - she likes my mood after a few vodkas. It's funny -- so many spouses want their others to drink LESS. I guess Wifey knows I'm not an alcoholic...

While on the Zoom, young Josh, of a huge heart, suggested we include Edna, to say happy birthday. We got her on FaceTime, since she didn't download Zoom to her phone, and really made her night. She's 64. 

Of course, we all thought of the Beatles song from "Sgt.Peppers." It's funny -- when the Beatles recorded the song -- it seemed becoming 64 was so far in the future. Sure enough, Harrison and Lennon didn't make it that far -- Starr and McCartney did, and now approach 80. Amazing.

So -- tomorrow holds a pretty calm day. The Canes play #1 Clemson at night -- I look forward to not much up to the game.

Another Covid week. It was fine. I guess that's the best to hope for.

Back To School

 So last week my friend Loni, who teaches English at Palmetto High, asked if I would be a guest lecturer in three of her AP classes. They were reading "12 Angry Men," and Loni thought I might explain some of the legal stuff. Could I do it on Zoom, I asked. Yes -- classes were still virtual. Do I have to grade papers? No -- I did not. I agreed.

I've taught a bit of college over the years. In the Fall of my 2L and 3L years, I taught Freshman Composition at UM. I enjoyed it, and the extra money was nice -- supplemented my GSL and NDSL loans well.

After that, my friend Steve, Chair of Religious Studies, and I developed and taught "Religion and Law." We taught it two times -- the last close to 20 years ago. I really enjoyed teaching, but, like most things in life, didn't enjoy the scut work -- grading papers.

The biggest reason I haven't taught since then is laziness, and inertia. I looked forward to the three sessions.

And they were terrific. The kids were bright, and some asked very insightful questions. I know you can't notice or mention race these days, but since I'm just a volunteer, I can. An Asian girl asked me about something called "jury nullification," and I had never heard the term. I wanted to respond "Look sweetie, how about you ask your professors at MIT or Cal Tech, where you're likely headed," but of course instead invited her to email Loni. She did, and I looked into it, and actually learned something myself. How about that!

I ended up doing three sessions, and enjoyed them all. It was terrific -- I told the kids I was in quarantine, and I'm sure Wifey was a bit tired of listening to me. They had no choice! I thanked them for being a great audience.

If I could teach this way, I would make a career change. No dressing up -- just sit in front of a Zoom camera, and no paperwork or dealing with idiotic administrators. It would be a fine gig...

Meanwhile, Loni has to go back live today. I'm hoping things go well -- no one really knows how this damn virus will play out in the schools.

Apparently, the students had a choice of live instruction or keeping it Zoom. One boy asked if it was too late to change to actual attendance. Loni asked him why. He said at first his mother was afraid to let him attend, but now if he stayed home, she might kill him. We all understood.

Wifey and I reflected how awful it would be to have high school aged kids now. The Ds would NOT have been happy staying home. We're thankful we're past that stage.

Meanwhile, the week has been flying by. We'll head to D1 and Joey's tomorrow to play with our beautiful grandson, and allow Miriam to clean our house.

Jonathan is due back from a Mexican business trip. I guess the plan is to get tested after he's home several days, and hopefully tests negative, and then the band can be together again.

Dealing With The Plague

 The most poignant thing I keep remembering about this dread disease is the n. As in, NOVEL, as my friends Barry and Kenny keep reminding me. This is a worldwide health calamity whose science is brand new, and so dealing with it remains a bunch of moving parts.

I'm emerging, little by little, from my cocoon. Our family has been driven by the directives of D1, and her now closing in on 10 month, precious boy. And D1 was, as we said, glatt kosher -- quarantining, staying in, etc...Lately, though, she's more like a Conservative shul -- the kind with female rabbis and cantors. Last week, she and Joey took the baby to a local children's museum -- socially distant, of course, but out in the real world.

I had my first dental cleaning since before the plague. I spent several hours last week with my brother Paul, walking his luxurious Williams Island, mostly masked. I'm always blown away at the wealth there -- the marina has scores of multi million dollar yachts. I swear one was 200 feet long. Paul invited me to have lunch at the club restaurant -- I wasn't ready for that yet, and headed home for some delivered Publix Instacart sandwiches with Wifey.

Some friends won't fly, but will still host gatherings of more than 20 people. I guess, like anything in life, when something is very important to us, we undertake the risk. My problem has been that, other than seeing the Ds and their men and son in person, nothing has been that important.

Yesterday was a banner one. The Ds and Joey and Jonathan and the baby and all dogs came over, and we brought in Anthony's Coal Fired. I poured drinks, and later Jonathan made frozen margaritas for him and his brother in law. I stick to vodka -- my old, loyal friend. Joey watched soccer, and then I switched to college football. The baby was absurdly adorable. We all played with and loved the little guy. It was exquisite.

The only tensosity, was when Betsy, the enormous puppy, grabbed some of the organic salmon D1 had prepared for her son. And, to her credit, D1 got over it. Ain't no one worried about that baby being underfed.

Jonathan has to travel this week for business, to Mexico. I'm concerned, but he'll be fine. He'll return Thursday, wait a few days, and then get a corona test. The results will hopefully be negative, and all will go on as normal.

I have a busy Monday planned tomorrow, for the first time in awhile. Dania is coming to cut Wifey and my hair, and old friend Loni has asked me to help Zoom teach her 10th grade AP English classes -- they're reading "12 Angry Men." She's asked me to provide legal explanations and support. I'm looking forward to it -- I taught 2 years of freshman comp, and 2 classes of "Religion and Law." The only thing I didn't enjoy about teaching was grading the damn papers -- tomorrow and Tuesday are only the fun parts.

Also, Danny the A/C guy, or his man, is coming. Another compressor motor burned out. The compressors (we have 4) sit right under the roof rain drop, and the motors only last 2-3 years. Danny suggested I put in gutters, and I got an estimate. Unfortunately, since the edges are copper, the small gutter job costs $4K. That's 10 A/C motors -- which last 2-3 years. I think I'll just keep on seeing Danny every few years...

Meanwhile, the Marlins shocked us all -- they beat the Cubs and are advancing to the NL Division Playoffs. That'll be fun to watch this week. Alas, the Heat is done, or will be. They'll likely lose the next two games and be NBA runner ups for the ring. Still a great season. The Canes play the #1 team Saturday night -- we'll see how far they've truly come since last year. All of these are very welcome distractions.

And we'll just keep on, keepin' on. That's the best we can do in the time of the plague.

Other Than THAT, Mrs. Lincoln...

 So I'm really bad at predicting sports outcomes. D1, the Marlins dietitian, asked how far into the playoffs I thought her team would go. I scoffed -- they'd be out of it very quickly -- probably lose 2 to the Cubs, and the still great season would be over. Ha. As if! Yesterday, the young team employed their great pitching, got 2 homers, and beat their opponents. They play today, and tomorrow, if necessary. I hope I'm proven wrong.

Meanwhile, the Heat seemed to finally realize their gig is up. They got blown out in the NBA Finals, which had a benefit to me -- I was able to turn off the game and go to sleep by the 3rd quarter, knowing the outcome. Back when they had the Big 3, the Finals kept us all up late for a long time. It seems, to my son in law Jonathan's great disappointment, that this one will end soon. Then again, even MAKING the Finals was impressive, exceptionally so.

My Canes are in the Top 10. We find out in 2 Saturdays if they're real or pretenders -- they play the best team in the nation, Clemson.

With local sports doing great, I observed that, other than the worldwide pandemic killing millions and disabling more, our nation on the brink of civil war, times are pretty good , lately.

Ah -- our nation. The infamous first debate has all of my friends, Trump haters all, even more dyspeptic. We'll vote for Biden, of course, but saw him for the cranky old man he is. Any sort of younger, more dynamic candidate would SO energize the Democratic party, and make this election a foregone conclusion. But a nearly 80 year old is the best we can come up with? My friend Norman apologized to his sons, on behalf of all of us late Boomers. He's dead on.

Closer to home, thankfully all is well. Wifey and I very much enjoyed the online Yom Kippur services from the historic Temple Adas Israel in D.C. In particular, a 29 year old Rabbi blew me away. Her sermon was about the 2 goats -- the Big Man instructed Aaron, the first high priest of our people, to sacrifice one, and allow the other to wander into the wilderness, having absorbed the sins of the people -- hence, the famous scapegoat. 

The question was which goat got his throat slit, and which was allowed to live. The people drew lots to decide. The Rabbi took this to teach that, while we MUST observe all the mitzvot, and live righteous lives, we have to understand that sometimes our fate comes down to dumb luck.

This resonated with me. Even the most righteous person sometimes gets into the wrong car, destined to be hit head on by an out of control truck. Sometimes the most philanthropic gets the horrible medical diagnosis.

Life is unfair, as I have been telling the Ds since they were little, and would complain about a slight with "No Fair!!!" True, I would tell them -- but life can also often be exquisite.

Today I'm venturing off the reservation, as my mother would say when leaving her condo complex, Kings Point. I guess that's politically incorrect to say these days -- acknowledging that many Native Americans were put on reservations. But I am -- headed to the dentist for my first cleaning since the plague. 

I kept canceling visits, but decided October would be the time to resume. The office called to vet me yesterday -- a series of Covid preventative questions.

After the appointment, I plan to come home and wake Wifey -- we're headed to D2's for the day so that Miriam can come to clean the house. Last time we decamped there, we watched 2 movies while D2 worked, and the enormous puppy Betsy enjoyed our company. I'm thinking a stop at Bagel Emporium on the way may be in order.

Tomorrow night, another Zoom happy hour, following Eric and Dana's Zoom shabbat. And Saturday we have a family day with the grandson and Anthony's Coal Fired pizza and wings -- more savoring the times together as much as we can.

Crazy times, these. Maybe the Marlins and Canes can keep bringing happiness...