A Young Person's Game

 So D1 and Joey have always had a nanny since they both work full time, and there has been accompanying nanny drama. The first one, Doris, was terrific, but she had to return to her native Colombia during Covid's beginning, and then there were a few non starters.

After a year long nanny quit, they hired an older lady 3 weeks ago. Wifey thinks she was close to her age, which can never be revealed even after Wifey starts Medicare in December. The lady seemed nice enough, but Wifey noticed she was taking a lot of breaks. Sure enough, she called in gone Monday. And D1 had a critical business call in the afternoon.

No problem. Wifey and I cruised up to the house around 4, and spent a delightful 2 hours with our grandson. But I realized something. I don't have THAT much patience for a toddler, and Wifey lacks energy for more than an hour or so. Sure enough, after playing floor golf for an hour, Wifey fell into a deep sleep for the next hour. I took over.

Wifey and I COMBINED are essentially one toddle baby sitter. This parenting young kids truly is a young adults' game.

Joey came home, and we left the beautiful young family. Fortunately, they found a replacement nanny who starts Wednesday -- and hopefully she'll last a bit longer. Child care for the well off is tough enough -- no wonder it's a leading issue in the US. 

We were fortunate. Wifey  became a full time Mom after D1 was born, and I was able to support us on my earnings alone. Also -- it seemed much easier to find good child care in the 80s and 90s than it is today, even though the birth rate is down.

We stopped at Akashi, a sushi place D2 loves, and found it a cluster. They only do takeout, and after an hour post Uber Eats order we were ready to abandon the project, when a text came that the order was ready. Still -- Wifey had to fight her way in amongst the many UberEats/Grubhub folks. I realized the issue -- the place is right across from UM, and school's in session. They were selling sushi like it grew in the rivers...

Our First World drama continues today. We're headed over to Bouche, a place that sells and installs appliances. We used them years ago when we rebuilt our last house after Hurricane Andrew. They're expensive but worth it.

If the new fridge will take several months to get, Junior, Al the owner's son, said his crew can haul away our old unit and install the Home Depot job I have in the garage. If the time is shorter -- I'll just return the normal fridge to HD.

In the mean time, I think I'm losing weight because of this. I'm used to walking the few steps and pulling out something to eat. Now, a trip to the garage causes hesitation -- am I REALLY hungry?

Luckily, the ice maker I bought is working, so Zoom and actual cocktail parties are a go. So like the anthem of all women, I will survive.

And I am SO grateful my only child duties are temporary and short. I'm 60. That stuff is for the young-uns.

Left Out In The Cold

 Wifey always says that when it comes to undertaking home projects, I'm a Negative Nancy -- always thinking things won't work out or will become far more complicated. The reason for that is that I'm typically the one who actually DOES the hiring and planning, and so I know my pessimism is well placed.

And so it has been with the refrigerator. Wifey is getting all new appliances, and the custom ones we need to replace the existing ones take months to arrive on account of the pandemic. So when our 13 year old KitchenAid built in finally died during our weekend trip, I figured I'd buy a regular type unit, have it installed, and be in high ice and chill until the permanent unit could be installed.

I went on Home Depot's site Monday, picked out a Whirlpool unit, and set up delivery for Saturday. Simple. Ha. As if!

Yesterday am Aurelio and his assistant arrived, and moved the new fridge to the garage, and then came to the kitchen to remove the old one. Aurelio grew glum. "Bad news, boss. These things weigh 1000 lbs -- need 4 guys to move them. And they're top heavy -- so really dangerous. We can't touch them with 2 guys."

He suggested I call the delivery company -- said this happens all the time, and "lots of rich people in the Gables and Pinecrest like these built in units -- and I don't know why. They can't be moved, and really don't even hold much more than regular jobs." I agreed.

I called the number, and got nowhere. They said they'd call my local Home Depot. Without the boring, annoying details -- it was a whole day of calls and holds which got nowhere.

But then Aurelio called. He could come back with his "private crew" and take away the old unit for $600. I offered $400. Nope. He had passed my tipping point, so Aurelio is out as my drug dealing-type appliance guy.

So I figure tomorrow I'll frustrate myself more with calls to Home Depot and the delivery company, and end up hiring a crew from Angie's list -- probably for $600 or so.

And then Wifey is going to the new appliance service shop -- to order the new stuff, including state of the art ovens that never get used, except to keep stuff heated when we have catered parties. But they'll look nice -- all matched in stainless steel.

So for now -- we have the garage fridge -- which works REAL well. I put some old fashioned ice cube trays in the freezer -- had cubes in an hour! So between that and the countertop icemaker I got from WalMart.com -- cocktails will continue to be served cold.

Yesterday, while the appliance drama was unfolding, D2 and Jonathan hosted a fun dog/pool party with their friends. Bodie the retriever spent the entire time diving and swimming. It was wonderful. Bodie the Doodle joined Betsy in avoiding the pool. Our old dogs, the strange rescue and special needs Spaniel -- avoided the whole scene.

It was terrific to have these young people -- a newly minted pediatrician Dr. Barry trained, and her lawyer husband, and a construction manager and his marketing exec wife, along with Jonathan's colleague Michael, enjoy the day. And the lawyer, Max, made some fine frozen margaritas. 

After they left, D2 and Jonathan had another party -- right in Pinecrest. I pregamed with Jonathan, and Wifey dropped them off. We went inside, like we would have when the kids were teens, to make sure there was proper parental supervision. The late 20s set, now homeowners, all laughed. 

Ah -- the circle of life. Wifey and I fetched some Mexican food, and came home. The buzz of the vodka had erased the tensosity of the failed appliance project.

Eventually -- things will be cool.

Meeting By Accident

 So Monday I dealt with our classic First World problem -- the broken refrigerator. I looked it up -- we bought it in January of '07, and saw that 14 years is about an average lifespan for these things. Funny, though, the thing was about $5K then -- replacement "built in" ones are now double that -- and, you can't GET them for 6 months.

So I went on Home Depot.com and bought an interim refrigerator -- hopefully to be delivered Saturday. We'll see. In the mean time, we're using the primitive, simple fridge in the garage -- probably living the way my great grandparents did back in the schtetl when they only had refrigerators in their garages...

Anyway -- got a call from Norman -- his S2 Michael and he were having breakfast at LOL -- would I like to join them? Of course I would, and drove over there and saw a spot. I thought -- hey -- I'll go to the part of the lot where the spaces are big, but then my desire for the bagel got the better of me, and I pulled in next to a nice Kia sedan. I heard a crunch. Damn -- I hit the car.

The Kia was within the space, but parked at an angle, and as I reconstructed my crash, realized I thought I had the room to pull in. I was wrong. I parked a few spots over, and took out one of my cards -- and wrote "Sorry -- please call me and I'll pay damages." The car had a UM tag and a disabled placard hanging from the mirror.

I then had a great time with Norman and Michael -- even with the looming knowledge that it would be a costly morning. But I recalled the sage words of Norman's wonderful father Max -- turning 94 next week, and still, thankfully, sharp as a tack: "A problem that can be solved with money is not really a problem."

I left, and drove to a body shop next to my gym. The fellow took pix and told me he'd call. And then I went to a body shop a block away where I had had Wifey's cars repaired several times over the years -- she used to make a habit of these things, and thankfully has been more careful lately -- certainly more careful than I was.

That body shop was owned by a fellow whose son, he proudly said, was off the NYU this week -- to study Art. The young man had graduated New World School -- the top magnet school in the state. He showed me some of his work -- in the back office. It was stunning -- bright colors, and a lot of Covid themes. I wished him well.

That estimate was for $850 for my bumper. The first one came later -- just under $1K. I'll be leaving the girlie Lexus at the artist shop next week.

Meanwhile -- no word from my victim -- until the evening. I got a call from a lady with an educated Southern accent -- named Wescott. She was delightful. She said the fact that I left my information meant the world to her -- she was, like most of us, losing faith in humanity, and my act reversed that loss. I was humbled -- I just did the right thing, after all.

Well -- we spoke -- for over an hour. She's a Tar Heel grad, but Canes fan for 40 years -- moved here to be close to her father, who was a UM Med professor. She lives in the Redland, and just sold her house to move to a condo in Satellite Beach. I looked her up on FaceBook -- attractive lady, probably about 70 or so. No mention of a husband or kids.

Anyway -- we had some friends in common, including a well known divorce lawyer in the Grove, who was infamous for sleeping with his clients back in the day. The fellow never married, and my new friend said he was therefore "The Only Cuban man in Miami who never cheated on his wife."

I love political incorrectness. We got each other right away.

She took her car to the Kia dealership, and the estimate was just under $1100. I already cut the check and am popping it into the mail today. Wescott and I are new FaceBook (tm) friends. I'm sorry she has the inconvenience of leaving her car in the shop, but she said she had lots of time. Sort of like me.

Anyway -- into each life, some fender benders must fall, I guess. Don Corleone said that women and children could be careless -- men couldn't afford to be careless. Well, I was, and am paying for it. And that's ok. Max is, as usual, correct.

FDOS

 Here in Miami Dade, today is a day that always brings back happy memories: the first day of school! I always loved it -- no matter how busy I was at work, I was in charge of FDOS.

I'd bring the Ds outside, and take their pictures near a growing tree. In post Andrew Kendall, that was a black olive by the front of the property. Each year, we'd compare the photos to see the Ds growth versus the tree. The tree always won.

I'd walk them into class. The supplies were all new. The screw ups hadn't yet screwed up. Everyone had straight As. As an academic dilettante, FDOS represented so much to me -- school was where you got better as a person. My beloved Dad was always far more impressed by an educated man than a rich one, and I guess I inherited that. And FDOS was sort of the Rosh Hashonah of that concept.

Alas -- the Ds are long since graduated from Graduate School. But this year, our little man has an FDOS at preschool! He's been attending for awhile, but the official start of his year is today -- D1 already sent a photo of him IN HIS UNIFORM! The cuteness should have been illegal -- he's 20 months old, and already looking like he has a school agenda.

During the past months, he would approach his friend Clio, and touch her pigtails. It was his morning ritual. Clio liked it. This year they're in different classes -- so our guy will have to find some other adorable way to begin his day.

Meanwhile, on the home front, there is a First World crisis. The refrigerator, which I've never liked, is finally kaput. It's one of those built in Kitchen Aid jobs -- I guess about 10 years old. We replaced the icemaker a few months ago, and since then the damned thing taunts me -- sometimes it works, but often it doesn't. I bought old fashioned trays, as well as a $100 icemaker from Walmart for emergency cocktail use.

I also told Wifey to get on the new appliance project -- of course she wants all the appliances to match, and I reminded her it takes months to get new built in refrigerators on account of Covid.

Well, Wifey still can't seem to locate that tool essential for any of life's tasks: the Round Tuitt. So the kitchen thing never happened, despite months of reminders.

Today, the damned thing went from spotty working to melted stuff and a ruined InstaCart order. So I sprang into action.

I went online and ordered a standard type refrigerator from Home Depot -- one in stock that can be delivered, hopefully, this coming Saturday. It's just south of $2K, as opposed to the $10K to stupid "built in" models cost, but it'll have to do for awhile.

If Wifey finds that ever elusive Round Tuitt, which I bet against, the new Home Depot model gets to go to the garage as the auxiliary refrigerator -- the one there now is a cheap model probably nearing 10 years old as well -- and these days 10 years for any appliance is a victory.

Again -- classic First World issues. May they be the only type we deal with. But I AM looking forward to hearing the happy sound of lots of ice being made, from an actual working icemaker -- as opposed to the possessed one now sitting behind me and making, I'm sure, silent faces at me.

Also -- I'm off -- to vaccine #3. The Israelis have started giving third doses of Pfizer to everyone over 40 , as long as it's been 6 months since the second jab. I figure if it's good enough for my counterparts in the Holy Land, it's good enough for me -- especially since lots of doses are just being wasted and expiring anyway due to the moron vaccine hesitants. So I get the jab at 9 -- the third, largely because of all the dunces afraid to get even one. Eh -- what are ya gonna do, as Tony S used to say.

But most importantly, my thoughts are with all the kids at FDOS. Soar on, students. And learn, for example, that science saves us. Get your information from trusted sources -- not drop outs on the internet. Wouldn't that be something?

Grandson -Cation

 Back before the Little Man joined the band, we were privileged to take Full Squad trips. Joey started the Full Squad text group -- including Wifey, me, the Ds, and both sons in law. We had some fine times together -- NYC, Mohonk Mountain House, and Colombia. With the damned plague still about, there have been no Full Squad plus grandson trips. Until now.

Ocean Reef Club is an exclusive private resort at the Northern edge of Key Largo. Wifey and I visited one afternoon, with our friend Crazy Sheryl, who had been a member years before. Somehow she talked her way in, and we had lunch there. The place is amazing -- mostly very wealthy Midwestern types -- heads of industry types instead of Finance and entertainment types ubiquitous in the 305 of Miami Dade.

Well -- D1 is their dietitian -and so got us the ability to stay there. And so on Thursday, after leaving my nephew of another brother to house sit and watch FOUR dogs, we left for the resort. Alas, poor Jonathan had a late work call, and joined us afterwards.

D2 and Jonathan and Wifey and I got rooms at the Pompano Building -- lovely but not overstated large rooms. D1 and Joey treated themselves to a 2 bedroom condo -- about 1/2 mile away by the golf carts we used to get around.

We ate. A lot. We drank. A lot. There was pool time at the gorgeous Buccaneer Island -- drinking Miami Vices -- half pina coladas and half rum runners, with 151 floaters. Even Wifey partook in the drinking! We shared many laughs. 

There's a Fisherman's Village -- a tiny re-enactment of a New England town -- with restaurants, shops, and bars. We spent a lot of time there -- breakfast all 3 days for D1, Joey, the grandson, and me. The others slept in and had our leftovers.

They have a nature center -- and the Little Man loved it -- especially Olaf, the enormous Himalayan cat who is somewhat of a mascot.

He loved being held on the golf carts, as we glided past enormous yachts and gorgeous gold courses.

And -- since school was beginning -- the first days we essentially had the place to ourselves -- and even yesterday and today, it was very empty. The ice cream shop had line holder set for 100 people -- we were the only patrons. It was delightful.

One evening, we put the Little Man to sleep, and poured drinks and had delicious food delivered. D1 lit shabbos candles on Friday -- we said the prayers. We felt the Big Man had given us so much.

This am I checked out -- and paid the bill. Wifey gasped a bit when she saw the total -- you spend a lot when everything goes on a resort card, and you can't use cash or even a credit card. 

But I just smiled. I detest stuff. I savor experiences. And these three nights and 4 days created memories to be treasured -- with pictures to show the Little Man someday of his adorable self, wearing a ball cap like his Dad Joey -- and toddling around.

I had a delightful time, and never once crashed the golf cart.

We left, and decided to stop at Alabama Jacks on the way home. It was still hot. Little Man was cranky, so his parents plucked him out of the high chair and headed to the Turnpike. He napped well. D2, Wifey, Jonathan and I had some conch salad as our farewell to the Keys lunch.

We arrived home, and though I had told Josh keeping 3 of 4 dogs alive was a 75% and therefore passing grade, indeed all 4 were fine. We caught up with him -- he's off to D.C. later in the week to visit big brother Scott.

I'm still hoping the Plague subsides. Tomorrow am, I have my third jab. If supplies were short, I would skip, but since we live among a huge tribe of dumb ass vaccine resisters, I figure many doses will just go to waste, anyway. Might as well maximize my immunity.

In the mean time -- the vacation, like the Go Gos sang, was all we ever wanted. And that's a nice way to end the Summer.

Pythons And Rain And A Lovely Family Evening

 So TS Fred missed, which meant we ended up postponing our family trip to Key Largo for nothing. That's ok -- we're on for Thursday, and hopefully a new TS leaves us alone.

Meanwhile, Friday I made my second trip to Aventura to meet Dr. Barry and his boy Josh for breakfast. We were in Paul's back yard, and invited him as well, and the 4 non diminutive men had a terrific 2 hour breakfast and philosophy session. We decided we needed to walk afterwards, and repaired to Williams Island, where Paul led us on a tour of his lovely island home -- passing yachts that looked capable of easily crossing the Pacific. It was a terrific day for all of us.

Yesterday D2 and Jonathan drove back to Aventura -- somehow that City with many synagogues and zero churches has been prominent in our schedules lately - to have a farewell visit with Jonathan's sister, brother in law, and beautiful baby niece before they head back to Riverdale.

Wifey and I headed to Casa D1 and Joey, and were treated to a delightful time with our absurdly adorable and funny grandson.

I ordered in from the Palm, and D2 and Jonathan fetched it on the way over, with D2 amazed that the cost for the 6 meals was about my weekly salary when I began work as a young lawyer. Hey -- good beef costs money!

Joey and Jonathan and I ate comically large portions of prime rib and NY Strip -- the ladies the more modest salmon -- and we enjoyed the time immensely. Joey poured fine cocktails.

They put the little man to bed, and the Ds made MUCH fun of Wifey, in a loving, sweet way. Wifey HAS become more, well, eccentric over the years, and she takes the ribbing well. She knows it comes from a place of love and knows she really DOES need to eat healthier and exercise more if she wishes to be around for the milestones to come in our family.

We left around 9, and it was a mission to get home, as the locals say. The rain poured, lightning struck, and the drive was a challenge -- but thankfully D2 and Jonathan's Jeep made it back first, followed by Wifey and me in the little girlie Lexus sedan.

As I write, Wifey is asleep upstairs, and the young roommates (D2 started a text group called "Pinecrest Roomies") are sleeping in, too.

Their enormous puppy is curled up next to me, and the little dogs are asleep in their various beds. 

It's easy, like Sunday morning ought to be.

The plague continues to surge, and I'm just hoping the predictions that the numbers will fall even quicker than they rose come to pass.

I truly hope I'll be able to get back to my beloved Canes games and their tailgates next month. The way things stand now, I'll be giving up the tickets. Hopefully we can return to the way things were in June and early July, where Covid seemed on the run.

Either way -- I'm a very blessed and lucky man in the USA. And I never forget it.

Postponed Trip

 So with Fred brewing, we decided maybe it best to put off the Full Squad trip. At best, it'd be nasty weather in Key Largo -- so why not?

I called and the friendly desk person said we were already in the cancellation period, so no changes without paying for 3 room nights. But wait, I said -- what about the coming storm? Nah -- their policy was you could reschedule for hurricane warnings and watches, but not mere tropical storms.

Really? I told her maybe extreme sports types wanted to go to a beach resort in a tropical storm, but not this sedentary guy and his family. She checked with the manager -- we're allowed to come the following week.

So I rescheduled the Friday Zoom, and have to order my meatloaf now. That's ok.

The Plague continues to be front page news -- tales that are all sounding the same -- vaxxed with breakthrough infections, who do well, and unvaxxed in the hospital or dying.

I haven't heard from my friend the unvaxxed cop in a few days. I'll check in on him later.

Instead of gearing up for a road trip -- another Thursday. Jonathan left for work -- D2 and Betsy will work in the library. Wifey is headed to see the grandson later. I'll keep busy managing investments and maybe doing a bit of phone legal work.

When my Dad was asked "What's new?," he'd often respond "Nothing -- the way I like it."

And so it is.

Continuing Covid Related Drama

 So Dr. Barry and I were talking about the Plague last week. Could he ever have predicted that our country's divided politics would devolve into a science versus medieval mindset and action among our citizens? No -- he could not have.

But it continues, this pandemic of the unvaccinated. The divide has cost me a friendship, with the arrogant idiot Rob, and it may cost me more. As to Rob, though, last night I got an email from a fellow long time friend of his, who moved to Virginia recently with her husband. She told me she had cut him off, too -- long ago realizing he was just a shallow, dumb, attention seeking fool, who truly cared for no one else. His conduct at the party just confirmed it. So maybe Rob would have had to have gone, irrespective.

And then there's Steve -- a Right leaning, not too bright fellow. He avoided the jab, though his job brings him into the public each day. Sure enough, he got Covid, and ended up passing it to his houseguest, another friend named John. He was calling to ask if any of my doctor friends prescribed the "quinine thing." No, they did not. And John told me his faith in Jesus would see him through. Oh boy.

Hopefully we're going to follow England's experience, where the Delta died down even faster than it surged. If that comes to pass, I may actually get to attend some beloved tailgate parties this Fall. If not -- it'll be TV again for my beloved Canes games.

We're supposed to take a Full Squad vacation Thursday -- down to Ocean Reef, in Key Largo. It's an exclusive private club, and they have a hotel there only open to guests of residents...plus. The plus is D1, who is adjunct staff there, and so got us in. We're set to head down, and my nephew of another mother Josh is coming to house and dog sit FOUR dogs.

But there's a wrinkle: storm brewing off in the Caribbean. It may become Tropical Storm Fred, and may head to the Keys. If Fred comes, we won't, obviously. We ought to find out tomorrow.

Talk of this of course brings back reminiscences of past Full Squad trips. We planned one the Fall before D2 and Jonathan were engaged -- a Fall trip up to the Hudson Valley.

D1 and Joey and Wifey and I flew up to LGA, rented a SUV, and fetched D2 and Jonathan in the West Village. Alas, the weekend weather was autumn in NY awful -- freezing rain. But the hotel was still a lovely place, Mohonk, and we ate and drank and played old fashioned games like air hockey in the rec room. And we DID get one hike in -- up to an observation tower on the hotel's gorgeous grounds -- before returning to the fireplace with muddy shoes.

This would be the first Full Squad Plus family vacation. The Plus is of course the gorgeous grandson. Hopefully it comes to pass.

In the meantime, we're keeping a lower profile. Wifey especially fears getting the dread virus -- her doc reminded her her stroke left her squarely in the high risk category. Ain't nobody got time for that!

But whatever the outcome -- the friend landscape has and will change. I guess it's inevitable when you try to practice intellectual diversity among your friends -- you eventually realize you need to drop the dunces.

An Impromptu Party

 So it was a quiet Thursday, though I did head to the office for a few hours. When I returned, D2 said her friend Tara was coming by, along with another friend, Carson, I hadn't met.

After we returned from our Betsy walk, which included a romp with Jagger, Betsy's new best friend, Tara came over, and I poured her some white wine. The front door opened, and a statuesque beauty came in -- it was Carson, whose husband is a work colleague of Jonathan's. Wifey was outside.

I got to spend time with these three beautiful and accomplished women, a recruiter, a lawyer, and an exec with a furniture company. All were born and raised in the County of Dade, as the song goes, and talked about their different childhoods. D2 was public school educated, Tara Catholic school, and Carson secular private school.

Then D2 announced Jonathan and Andres would be coming over, too, along with their other colleague Mike. She ordered a boat load of sushi, and soon we were in the dining room eating and drinking happily -- it was a terrific get together.

Around 10, Wifey suggested we give the young-uns their own time, and we retired to the family room to watch some more episodes of Cocaine Cowboys: Willie and Sal, which we love. I went to sleep and the 2 young women left -- leaving D2 and the 3 men to talk life and high finance.

To keep the mood up, I got an email confirming I was Covid negative, and more importantly, so was our beautiful grandson -- despite the arrogance and stupidity of one of his classmate's parents.

In that regard, my second stupidest friend called me. The stupidest, Rob, is now an ex-friend. The second stupidest works with thousands of people daily, and is anti-vaxx. Sure enough, he caught Covid, and was hospitalized at Baptist. He checked himself out against medical advice when he freaked out seeing a roommate anti vaxxer on a ventilator. He's monitoring himself at home.

He admitted to me he was a dumb ass to not get the jab. I hope he recovers. If not, his long career with the County, and it's very generous pension, will just go to estranged family members -- for want of an easy vaccine.

So I find myself more and more angry at this class of dunces. Our lives could be returning to normal, instead of reverting to hiding. Selfish and stupid hurts us all.

Tonight I have my normal Zoom. Eric and Dana have a new bouncing grandson -- we'll get to see him on camera. Barry and Donna are flying to D.C. to see their oldest and his lady, so my cocktail Zoom won't have them -- but hopefully Kenny will share, virtually, some of the cool Maine air with us.

It's been, as expected, hot as hell here in this Miami August.

But that invention A/C sure is a good one, and last night it allowed us a delightful time with young, good looking, and accomplished professionals. I really enjoy hosting them -- our future.

Positive Negative Results And Anger Over The Selfish Dunces

 So I brought my 60 year old self to Sunniland Park for the Covid testing. My appointment was at 9, so per my usual protocol was there at 8:40. No sign of testing personel.

I asked a park employee where it would be, and he directed me to the south end of the park, which you have to access by leaving. I drove there, and found an old guy on a bench, luckily not eyeing little girls with bad intent, and a young fellow who looked like he worked there. He said in perfect Spicoli: "Nah, dude -- it's back on the other side." I laughed and said I was just told the opposite. "Well, I'm just a camp counselor for the Summer, Dude -- I don't really know."

The experience was turning out less Pinecrest and more, oh, Hialeah, which is an unfair comparison. Hialeah, though the butt of jokes, has some of the best municipal services around -- the old Cubans don't stand for incompetency.

Anyway, about 9:10 an SUV rolled up and a fellow was unloading supplies. There were 4 cars, and we were told to line up in what turned out to be the wrong direction, but eventually a competent nurse came over, had me fill out a form even though I had 3 prior tests with the same company, and then came with the swab. I asked for a rapid test and antibody test, too -- hey -- why not? The rapid test is a swab you put in each nostril yourself and rotate 7 times -- seemed to me a better way of getting a sample than the one deep thrust of the PCR. But what do I know?

I drove home, and my usual anxiety from waiting for results ramped up a bit. Wifey had screwed up the date of our cleaning lady, and she was there, with her friend and assistant, chattering away and, let's say, not alleviating my anxiety. I retired to a room above the garage and luckily "Blazing Saddles" was on. That always helps.

The rapid test results were due "in a few hours," and 5 had passed, so I emailed the company. "Check your spam -- we sent 2 hours ago." I did. They weren't there. I emailed again. Nothing. So it was now 4 pm and raining, and I drove back to the test site. The nurse remembered me, and had me ask another nurse with a lap top. "Good news," she said looking up: "Negative." Yay. Looks like the wedding wasn't a super spreader, for me, the officiant, at least.

And then we heard from D1 -- one of the grandson's "bunkmates" had tested positive. The little guy spiked a fever Monday, and sure enough, it was Covid. So the "bunk" closed 2 days early.

And here's the shocker: the kid's parents were unvaxxed. Selfish MFs. Surprise, surprise, surprise, as Gomer said. Like my ex friend Rob, their ignorant arrogance has now hurt others. May Karma run over their dogma.

So D1, Joey, and the little man have to go get tested today. They're more annoyed than concerned -- which seems to be the mood for all of us who are vaxxed.

I read an article about a burgeoning industry: fake vaccine cards. It's easy -- some cardboard, and a simple printer, and pieces of crap gain access to cruises and the like. Ah -- citizens.

Hopefully this surge backs off sooner than later. We all plan to lay a lot lower for the time being -- my anxiety walks have picked up again -- so far not the "manorexia," though I'd benefit from the weight loss again. We'll see.

But for now, at least, the Plague is at bay. But for the selfish dunces, we'd be past it.

Good Luck Week -- Waiting For My Fate

 My beloved, late Mom, Sunny, always said "Babies bring good luck!" Well, there are two new ones I know about.

My long time haircutter Dania missed my appointment, leaving me perilously close to Bob Dylan in the 70s status, but for a great reason: she flew to Texas for the birth of her first granddaughter. She sent a photo today, and like Dania, the girl has a traditional Cuban name: Parker Kate. Ha.  I guess we'll see fewer Ilianas, Bekyses, and Lourdeses going forward.

Closer to home, my man Eric and  woman Dana welcomed a bouncing baby boy to the tailgate crew this am. I'm thrilled for them. Alas, his bris, due to Covid surge, is immediate family only, but I'll be there in spirit. I know the late grandparents, Marvin, Norma, and Barbra will be smiling down -- especially Marvin. He adored his wildly accomplished son, and the thought of him holding a grandson -- well -- 

This am I had my Covid test scheduled, to hopefully rule out that I was infected during my friend's wedding. The location was to be a small Pinecrest park, on 104th Street, and early this am I got a text and email that it was moved to Sunniland Park -- I guess for more space due to increased testing demand.

My appointment was at 9, so of course I arrived there at 8:45, and the nice Haitian man in the golf cart was clueless about the location, but told me to go to the south entrance. I did. No one there but a guy napping in his car.

I drove back, and a bit after 9, an SUV drove up, and a guy got out -- yes -- it was here. Soon there were 10 cars pointed in opposite direction -- clearly more Hialeah organization than supposedly Pinecrest, but eventually an authoritarian type nurse came by and started directing traffic and patients.

I opted for all three tests: rapid, PCR (a bit more accurate) and antibody (to see if my Pfizer magic chemicals are still circulating). They pricked my finger, after I made the nurse laugh as I always do "Little prick, sir." "Hey -- who told you???" and swabbed my nose. For the rapid test, I had to swirl the swab myself -- 7 revolutions in each nostril. Who knew?

Supposably, as they say in Miami, I get the first results in a few hours, the the rest by tomorrow. Hopefully negative on the Covid, but if not? Hey -- just going to ride it out, and avoid folks for awhile. No big deal, though it might cost me attendance at the Key Largo staycation D1 planned. That's ok -- I'll hang home with the dogs, though nephew Josh is already booked for that gig.

In sad, follow up news, we learned our dear friend Elizabeth's cause of death: garden variety heart attack, secondary to clogged main vessels. Wow. She ate the most cleanly, and exercised like a fiend. As Eric always said, FH is key -- family history -- and she had a bad one -- both parents died of MIs.

Looking back, the nausea and feeling poorly she felt on her hike were the symptoms of the coming fatal event -- but she just chalked them up to being at altitude and a vigorous hike.

What a shame. We all miss her so -- gone too soon.

So today and tomorrow I'll play a lot of Tom Petty -- the waiting is the hardest part. Hopefully the news is good -- if not -- well -- just another tough hand in the poker game of life. Have to play your hand -- nothing more to do.

But nice to have new babies around.

The Chief of The Dunces

 So here we are, still dealing with the plague. Something that should have been just a terrible memory continues to infiltrate our lives -- because of a confederacy of dunces convinced the infectious is somehow the political.

My family and I took a risk Saturday night, although we're all fully vaxxed -- attended a wedding with 40 people. I'm getting my first Covid test tomorrow am since last December, and hoping it's negative. If not, I'm not scared my family or I will die, or even need the hospital, but may be in for a few days of unpleasantness. Hopefully the proteins on the report go the correct way.

But Covid has cost me a friendship -- probably one doomed to end anyway, on account of gross stupidity. I met Rob through Mike back in the 80s -- Rob's parents were close with Mike's parents. He was married to Becky, who he had met at their Christian Scientist college. Rob's Dad had a very successful insurance agency, and Rob took it over -- the classic nice, Republican country club gig of being born on third base and thinking you hit a triple.

Rob and  Becky had 2 boys, and we'd often socialize at birthday parties and most importantly, Canes games -- both here and on trips. We'd laugh -- a lot. Rob has an outsized funny personality.

Well -- Rob ended up sort of running the agency down a bit, but sold it, and began a series of mostly failed marketing businesses. He should have kept the agency. He divorced Becky, who moved to Texas, and the boys got older -- the oldest started and dropped out of college to become an artist. The younger went to Texas with Mom.

Rob's politics were wildly conservative, which I found amusing, but in the Trump years got stupider and stupider. Our FaceBook debates were funny -- my educated mostly Dem friends saying, essentially, "who IS this idiot guy?" and I'd explain he was misguided but well meaning. His friends, a seeming cast of Fox news fans, always ridiculed my posts, too, and I actually enjoyed the nice detours away from my usual band of correct thinking, educated people.

Before he left Miami, Rob had a delightful girlfriend, who worked for him at his agency. She was lovely and educated, with a young son. Their dynamic was out of "Modern Family," as the young man, Matteo, was VERY smart, like Manny on the show, and Rob was the affable older gringo while Monica, without the accent, was the smart one. They broke up, with Monica later telling us Rob was in fact one of the stupidest men she ever knew -- NEVER read a book -- just parroted back whatever Hannity type stuff was running that night on Fox. She moved to Colorado. He moved first to Atlanta, and then to Martin County, ostensibly to care for his aging mother, but quite possibly because he didn't have the money to live on his own.

Still -- we enjoyed each other's company -- met in Orlando when the Canes played the Gators -- I got him a ticket -- and we laughed together, a lot.

Then, in June, all of the invitees to Mike's boy Chris and Rachel's engagement party, got an email, asking those not vaxxed to get a Covid test, as this was the first large party any of us attended, and there would be elderly, immunocompromised, and just plain Covid anxious guests (like me) in attendance.

We arrived, and it was delightful. Like Gloria Estefan's song "Coming Our of the Dark" we were at a regular, large party, knowing we were all either vaxxed or Covid tested negative, and we drank, and hugged, and caught up.

Wifey and I spent a lot of time with Rob -- telling him about her stroke and its recovery, and looking forward to new Canes games adventures. Rob asked me to use my Cane Club to buy him tickets to Alabama v. Canes in Atlanta in September. Rob hugged Loni's elderly Mom, and was his charming, gracious self with all the guests.

Then came 3 days ago. He posted on FB that he was sick, and all of his symptoms were Covid-like. I said he'd be fine -- we normal vaxxed might have a few bad days, but that was it. He answered that he NEVER had a vaccine, and never would, as it was Big Pharma poisoning us for profit. And then he asked for prayer and luck as he was getting his FIRST EVER Covid test.

Now wait a minute. How was that possible. He must have had one back in June, to comply with the request of the party hosts, to render him safe for folks like Wifey and me to hang so closely with him. Nah -- he replied -- he never bothered, as he never really BELIEVED in Covid -- he just cavalierly came to the party.

I hit the roof. It was the most selfish, ignorant plus arrogant thing ever. I immediately told him it was the end of our friendship -- especially after he made a "hey -- if I killed your wife with the Kung Flu, I'd have done you a favor."

The moronic politics had crossed over into moronic action. And it's adios to Rob.

Mike's sister Jeannine sort of tried to defend him -- don't we GET vaxxed because we can't trust the morality of others? Of course -- but strangers are strangers. Once a friend or acquaintance violates that trust, like Michael in II -- he's dead to me.

So hopefully things go well tomorrow. Regardless, I plan to rachet down normal activities for awhile. Mirta and I had plans tonight to celebrate my birthday late -- at Titanic. We agreed to put it off until this latest surge subsides.

If Rob and his fellow confederacy of dunces didn't mess this up, we'd be out of the dark already. 

So adios, Rob. Float on in your fog of idiocy. I was ok with that. I'm NOT okay with your fog of treachery. 

A Big Saturday

 So at 10 am, D2, Jonathan, and I met with Enrique, our fitness guru. We started seeing him again last weekend, and enjoy his true gift: making the misery of a serious workout seem not miserable. Of course, he was harder on the millennials than on me, but I came out sweating hard and a bit sore. Oh, that eating cheeseburgers made you healthy...

We fetched lunch on the way home, and were greeted by D1 and the beautiful boy. He toddled around the house, avoiding the charges of the enormous puppy, and it was just a delightful visit. He and D1 left, and soon after Jonathan did, too, to have some family time with his visiting siblings and adorable baby niece.

D2 said she needed to walk the huge puppy, and I tagged along, and no sooner were we on the street than we heard a voice from a car: "Hey -- it's me, Marie!" Our former neighbor and D2's friend was back from DC, and showing her girlfriend her old 'hood. We invited them to walk with us, and it was a delightful reunion -- followed by some rehydration in our house where Wifey got to say hello, too.

D2 and Marie talked about childhood times -- especially their silly fathers, Pat and me, and how when we drank together we somehow decided to sing the melancholy and long Eagles tune "Desperado."

Marie and her lady left, and we scrambled to get ready for the wedding. I literally struggled with the damned tux shirt studs -- what an absurdity. Buttons and zippers work perfectly fine -- why would any modern person decided the way to go was a contraption where you had to manipulate metal pieces through unforgiving buttonholes? After a full 20 minutes, I succeeded. I sad later I'd have preferred a tooth removal.

We got into the SUV and headed to D1's -- she was coming with us -- Joey would join later after the grandson was put to bed. Jonathan Ubered over from his parents' house -- his brother and sister in law were, by coincidence, staying in the Turnberry Hotel where the wedding was.

I was to officiate. Jonathan was to translate into Spanish, for a video to be sent to Patricia's family back in Peru. We fortified ourselves with a few drinks at the bar -- vodka for me, tequilla for Jonathan, and soon we were led into a beautiful private room at Bourbon Steak.

My man came in -- looking dapper as always. And then his bride joined us under the chuppah -- looking, truly, like a movie star. Paul beamed. He should. As we readied to begin, I heard Eric Clapton's lyrics from "Wonderful Tonight" playing in my head -- the one about how everyone stops to see the beautiful lady walking around with him...

The ceremony went well. Jonathan acquitted himself wonderfully -- United Nations quality translation. Paul broke the glass. The party was on.

We caught up with old friends and family, and ate delicious steaks. Dessert was a chocolate souffle. Wine flowed. Vodka, too, but when I realized Wifey had pounded 3 glasses of champagne, I cut myself off early so as to be able to drive home.

Jonathan's brother, sister in law, and two sisters were at the bar outside. Paul invited them to join us. My dear friend Norman's niece was outside with her sorority pledge class from UF -- a few years ahead of D1's. Stephanie and D1 chatted happily and quickly. My taciturn son in law Joey watched in amazement -- did someone actually talk faster than D1?

The wedding wound down. D1 and Joey and Wifey and I called for the cars -- D2 and Jonathan would Uber home -- they were enjoying a nice after party at the bar.

The wait for the car was long, which worked out well -- I got a call from D2 -- they were indeed tired, and would come home with us. Jonathan walked up to our car, and asked if we were the Uber. We were.

D2 and Wifey talked about who wore what. Jonathan and I sat in the front as I drove home, mostly just enjoying opening our awful tux shirts. I really, really, don't like wearing a tuxedo.

So my brother Paul begins a wonderful new stage of his life today. We were all privileged to be a part of the joy.

Hopefully the Delta variant leaves us all alone -- I plan to get a Covid test Wednesday, just to be safe. And life will go on.

It's great to have days like yesterday.