Remembrance Of Things Past

 For Proust it was madelines that triggered memory. For me, it was martinis and steak.

Yesterday Stu hosted his holiday party at a NY transplanted steakhouse called Dirty French -- located in the spot that housed Morton's on Brickell for decades. Morton's was one of our go-to steak places back in the day -- I recalled a dinner with Wifey, Mike, and Loni where I was in the men's room next to a muscular but very short man -- it was Sylvester Stallone!

Morton's grew tired over the years. The last time I visited, I took the Ds -- D1 was living a few blocks away off Brickell, and we three had a lovely early dinner, but the carpet and furnishings were all the originals -- and they looked it. As rents rose, Morton's couldn't keep up, and now a much cooler, flashier, but still delicious steakhouse is in its place. I plan to return.

Paul came with Stu, from Aventura. I met Carla and Amanda, and Stu's young lawyer Josh came, too. Later we were joined by Stu's childhood friend Susan, a pediatrician who took the Bright Line from Boca to see her girl Jayde, a young lawyer living on Brickell. Stu fixed Susan up with Steve, his Emory Law classmate and good friend, and the two have been married decades now.

But when Paul entered, one memory of poignancy came back -- this was also after 2 Ketel martinis.

It was 2001, and Paul and I prosecuted a case with our old boss Ed. It involved a fire where a young girl got burned up in Broward, and Ed did liability while we did damages. It was one of our contrived specials -- we sued because the smoke detector in the cheap apartment didn't work -- there was always a major issue in those cases whether the early warning would have made a difference.

In that case, we at least convinced the insurance carrier that it would have, and they paid us millions of dollars. The clients and the little girl came to our office to sign the papers. Thankfully, the girl was doing well -- the burns were on her arms and legs, and though she had a long road to recovery, she would be ok.

As I drove up US 1 on the way to the meeting, Wifey called me in the car. "I sure am glad your office is on the ground floor. It's all over the news that an airplane crashed into the World Trade Center."

Of course, it was 9/11, and as we finished our meeting with the clients, the small black and white TV in the office showed the second tower collapsing -- as we learned about the Pentagon, and crash in Pennsylvania.

The clients left, we told the staff to go home, and Ed, Paul, and I made sure our families were safe. All were -- Wifey had fetched the Ds from school, and all were home watching the news.

Ed, always the gourmand, said "Well -- we might as well go have a civilized lunch, as civilization is in peril," and we went over to Morton's.

We sat in the bar watching CNN, and drinking martinis. It was surreal. But we toasted defeating the bastards who did it. We had no idea it would take years before President Obama finally had the SEALS put a bullet in Bin Ladin's eye.

Wow. Had 21 plus years really gone by? They indeed had. Paul and I now have 6 grandkids between us. Ed is still alive -- retired and living up in West Palm -- at or right near 90.

So much has changed, but luckily the important things haven't -- those sacred and close to me have largely remained the same -- with the slight exception of, for example, the premature death of our sister Elizabeth, and a couple of friends who are now former friends.

And today is Xmas Eve, and Chanukah night #7. Wifey's friends Maureen and Diane are taking her to the Falls to see a movie for her birthday. I just assembled the new fire pit and plan to put it to use for the record cold expected tonight.

Young Josh, my nephew of another brother, called -- he finished a run in the Grove and was headed to breakfast there. Did I have plans later? I did not -- so he'll stop by for some TV football.

So the steak and martinis acted like Proust's biscuits. Funny how the mind works.