Sunday, July 31, 2022

Maybe Everything That Dies Someday Comes Back

Fox's Sherron Inn -- a place I passed by all the time in college but never stopped in. In undergrad, my friends and I would go to Monty's and Bananas, clubs in the Grove, as well as the occasional jaunt up to Ft.Lauderdale for the places there. Fox's seemed like an old peoples' place.

Fast forward to 1985, and I was a 2L at UM, and under the law and life tutelage of Ed Perse, my friend Mike's Dad. Ed was a larger than life guy, who had become a legendary appellate lawyer in town, and a huge house behind Baptist Hospital where he hosted Canes away game watch parties, back when you could. One Saturday I sat next to Bernie Kosar and several other future NFL stars as we drank beer and watched our beloved teams.

Anyway, I was clerking Downtown, and Ed asked me to fetch him at the Mercedes dealership in the Gables, and drop him home. I wasn't only happy to do this, I was thrilled, as there would undoubtedly be a life lesson or two during the commute. After we passed UM, he turned to me and said "The young lawyer will soon make a left, into Fox's, and he and the old lawyer will have a couple of martinis this fucking big," holding his hands a foot apart. I did as I was told.

Inside, I couldn't see a thing. It was the darkest bar I had ever entered, and smoke filled, in those days before smoking was banned inside. I came to learn years later that the darkness was by design -- the doctors at across the street South Miami Hospital demanded it, as they took their mistresses there, and, after their eyes had accommodated to the darkness, got a jump on any temporarily blinded wives who came in -- slinking out the back. That might be a Miami urban legend, but it's a great one.

The bartender clearly knew Ed well, and Ed turned to me and asked if I was a vodka or gin man. I was not yet either -- I had never had a martini. I asked Ed his choice -- it was vodka -- and so I became a vodka man as well. That has been my only real drink in the more than three and a half decades since.

I became a Fox's regular -- taking Wifey there for dinner -- and often stopping in for a drink or two. After Hurricane Wilma, in '05, Wifey took the girls to Atlanta until the power was restored. Across the street neighbor Susan took her kids to Orlando, leaving Pat and me to live like cavemen in the darkened houses. Pat took me to his CC, Riviera, and we had a fine time, but the Gables had a curfew of 11. I told Pat we could go to MY country club, and took him to Fox's, where we had our nightcap before returning to our dark, quiet houses.

D1 liked the place so much she hired out a dining room for a UF New Year's Eve party. Longtime server Nelson took care of her group. He was a delightful guy -- a flamboyantly gay NY Rican. After the party I asked how it went, and he said, and I recall precisely, "Your daughter is a dream. How did such an exquisite creature come out of you???" I asked if he was SO gay that he really thought babies "came out" of men? We both laughed, as he brought me my Ketel One and a sidecar.

Well, in 2015, Fox's closed. The 'hood of older garden apartments was giving way to more luxurious buildings, and the owner decided to sell to a developer who was knocking down the 40s era structure. We were there, a bunch of us including Ed's boy Mike, to say goodbye. And then, nothing happened to the building. And last year, we heard of a renascence -- Fox's was coming back!

My mentor Ed's grandson Chris wanted to go close to the beginning. He looks just like his late grandfather, and has his brains and sense of humor. Mike and his bride Loni were away, on a Euro cruise, but Chris said let's go anyway -- and he got reservations for last night.

He invited his suegro, Anthony, and I had signed on to make sure Dr. Barry didn't starve while his son was in Israel and wife in D.C. So Barry agreed to drive back to the 305 on a day off, even though he makes a daily commute for work.

And so we 4 gents met -- and had the afore mentioned martinis -- except Anthony, who had a margarita. We toasted Ed. Barry had met him once -- in Fox's! Barry and I were having a cocktail while he waited for Donna, then a NICU nurse at South Miami, and Ed walked in. He joined us for a nice time of drinks and conversation.

They did a great job with the renovation, though the original place had the bar in front, and small, walk up package store in the back. It used to recall Willie Nelson's favorite sign at a honky tonk: "Liquor in the front. Poker in the rear." Now, the package store will be in front, on South Dixie, and the bar and booths are in the back.

They were out of stuff, and we all ended up having very delicious burgers. I think Chris was scheming to pick up the check, and so I begged off to visit the bathroom. Instead, I intercepted the server and took care of the bill. When Barry protested, I asked if he wasn't proud of my prostate -- I really didn't have to pee after all! Indeed -- it was a men's gathering last night.

Neighbors Alex and Hilit walked to the table -- they're neighbors and longtime UM Med colleagues of Barry. They were at the bar, and Hilit texted me after he visit -- Alex recognized Anthony froma BBYO trip to Israel in the 70s! We joined them at the bar -- sure enough -- the two had met decades earlier.

So it's clear Fox's is immediately that kind of place - our authentic Cheers. And that, to me, is a community asset.

I'll go again when Mike returns from Europe. The place isn't really the Ds and their men's kind of place, but maybe I'll manipulate them in for an evening.

I just know it's nice to have this beloved tavern back.

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