So Thursday my friend and financial advisor Pat was in town and wanted to know if I cared to meet for drinks? I would -- and we settled on the bar at Captain's Tavern. I decided to Uber over, and then asked Wifey -- would she care to meet me there after Pat left for dinner with his girl Marie, in Little Havana? She would, too.
Pat and I caught up about investments. He definitely favors buying low and selling high, and I agree. Ha. Actually, of the several brokers I have had over the years, Pat is the most sage -- he takes the time to really understand a company before advising investing -- the Warren Buffet approach. Years ago, I would invest, typically, a certain amount in each security, as my earnings from the law business would allow. In about 2003, he suggested we double down on a particular company -- they sold fruit -- and I agreed.
Well it wasn't fruit -- it was Apple Computers, at an all time low, and over the past 20 years the investment has grown to the point where it has funded nice accounts for the Ds, and provided significant charitable donations to FIU and Friendship Circle. No matter what else, Pat always gets credit for that.
I referred him to Wifey's friend Linda and her sister Karen, and they love him -- his calm, measured approach has been perfect for 2 ladies who never really understood anything about investing. I also referred him to my friend Steve the cop,and John, another retired cop who had the sense to marry a VERY rich woman, whose parents recently died -- so Pat is keeping busy.
Anyway, Wifey arrived, and we moved from a bar to a table, and Pat laughed at how gringo the Tavern still is. Indeed, the fellow at the next table was an old friend of his from church -- and fellow Gator. He's a lawyer actually named Saint -- I joked that gave him an unfair advantage in court -- but Saint typically doesn't litigate. His wife is a lawyer, too, and a Hurricane like I am, so some ribbing ensued.
Pat left, and Wifey and I both had some lobster tails. She was a fine Wifey-ber ride home, too.
Last night, Cara had invited us to dinner at her new senior place, the Vi. Apparently they are very upscale, but of course have ancient people, and I am unashamedly ageist. I like several very old people, but that's it, and I still have PTSD from meals at Miami Jewish and The Palace -- hacking up phlegm into mashed potatoes is an image I can't get out of my mind. So I negotiated a settlement -- how about we meet at The Palm instead?
I bought my consuegros Ricardo and Jacqui a Palm gift certificate to thank Ricardo for the awesome job he did selling my little girl Lexus off my lease, and replacing it with the big man Caddy SUV, and the Palm sent me a $50 bonus certificate for my own use! Again -- so nice when there is something good for rich, white people!
Open Table said the only opening was at 5, and so we left at 4. There was a terrible accident on I-95, and so Caddy navigation took us across the Tuttle, past Miami Beach, and up Alton Road. It took a full 1.5 hours to get there. Traffic is truly the worst part of Miami.
We met Cara, and had a fine time -- one martini each, and a shared NY Strip and Sea Bass, with some sides. We talked of the long friendships -- she and Wifey met in the 80s -- and how much we still miss Jack, her late, wonderful husband. Jack loved the Palm, and Joe's -- my kind of guy.
95 apparently remained a mess, and Nav took us back home down Alton Road, and across the Tuttle again, which was wonderful, as we saw one of those fake looking Miami sunsets, where the glorious skyline looks backlit like in a science fiction movie.
Tomorrow night we have dinner with Joelle and Kenny, and so when Donna called -- did Wifey and I want to meet her and Barry -- we had to beg off. We adore them, but the thought of another restaurant was too much -- gotta do our version of a small fast.
Meanwhile, D2 and Jonathan are in the midst of deciding where they're moving. Their Miami Beach lease is up late June, and they want out of the 11th floor unit. It's lovely, but not really tenable if they start a human family to go along with Betsy, the large, furry puppy. There are many moving pieces -- a nice unit in a smaller building on Belle Isle, and maybe a house right by D2 and Joey. If the latter happens -- well -- that'd be a dream. The coming weeks will tell.
They both have Masters in Business, and Jonathan handles large investment deals, and so the two of them are more than qualified for the analysis -- but tensosity still ensues. They'll pick correctly.
So the Heat game beckons, although truth be told, I tend to tune into NBA games late, when the result it truly near. Joey and Jonathan are both at F1 today -- I know Jonathan will be keeping one eye of a TV for his favorite team.
And as for Wifey and me? No dinner tonight!
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