So the magic of FaceBook (tm) brought up some old photos today, including one of my favorites of Wifey and me. It was two of us wearing Panama hats and aviator shades in Cancun, in May of 1984, standing in front of a Mexican grocery.
Strangely, today I will be off to MIA to fetch said Wifey, now nearly 40 years older. I got older, too.
Cancun in 1984 was still Cancun -- a sleepy tourist spot on the Caribbean -- just a few hotels, and a famous restaurant called Carlos and Charlies. Later, it became Daytona Beach -- filled with places for American time share tourists -- with even a Wal Mart, I think. But in 1984 you could still make believe you were Malcolm Lowry, drinking and writing and hiding out.
The trip was historically significant for us. Wifey had broken up with me for the second and final time, on account of she was 4.5 years older than I , and ready to get more serious about life, while I was a 23 year old rising 2 L enjoying my status as a rooster among early 80s Miami hens, so to speak. I wasn't ready to get "exclusive," as Wifey tells the Ds, which for some reason, I guess her Brooklyn pronunciation, they find hilarious. So in April of 1984 she moved to North Miami from Kendall, and told me to never call her again. And even then, before the Dude became one of my heroic characters, I abided.
Well, Jeff was dating Cheryl, and Cheryl's step Dad was a rich Mexican who had a gorgeous villa right on the sea. They invited me to come right after Finals, but before our Summer jobs began. They told me to ask Wifey, as the four of us had double dated. No -- Wifey told me to toss off, I responded. Well then, Cheryl said, ask one of your other lady friends. And so I set about that task.
It was comical. I asked friends, former girlfriends, you name it. I think I asked 10 different girls, and all were unavailable, for reasons like "just had surgery on my face -- can't go in the sun," to my ex serious girlfriend Silvia, who was trying to woo a rich young doctor at Mt. Sinai. I REALLY wanted to go -- I had never been to Mexico, the Mexicana flight was all of $150 round trip, and the villa was free! We'd eat cheaply, drink Kahlua (I was honoring the Dude even then) and see the sights, like Tulum.
No, said Cheryl -- no 3rd wheel. Ask Wifey again. And I did, and the Big Man must have had plans, as Wifey was on vacation that very week and had no plans. Linda, her best single friend who had warned her away from me (properly, I might add) said "What the hell. Go with him, have a blast, and then just break up a third time."). So Wifey agreed, and indeed, on that Yucatan Peninsula, probably on the Isla Mujeres, which Jeff and I re-named Isla Mujeres Facil, I fell in love.
We worked stuff out when we returned to Miami,and moved in together a year later and then married in January of 1987. We actually traveled again to Cancun with Cheryl, this time without Jeff, as his parents put the rush on him to break it off with her, and also Mike and Loni. Hilarity ensued, including a fight where Mike ended up in his underwear on the roof. The details are fuzzy now, but not the sight of my dear friend trying to climb down after Loni had locked him out. That image is burned into my memory.
So fast forward nearly 4 decades! I'm off to MIA this afternoon to fetch Wifey, returning from Colorado and Atlanta, following the wedding of her BFF's daughter, a party the BFF uninvited me to following untoward circumstances, so absurd that they tend towards the unbelievable. But that's ok -- I have overcome the greatest insult by someone in our cohort, and even embraced it.
Years ago, the aforementioned Jeff was long married to Lili, and the aforementioned Cheryl asked me to say hello to him. The years had gone by, and each had kids -- Jeff had 3 girls, and Cheryl 2 boys. Each live in 7 figure houses, and are married to fine partners -- Cheryl really hit it big -- her husband is a leading recording producer in LA and they are RICH. So I emailed Jeff, "Cheryl sends regards." To my horror, I learned Lili reads all Jeff's emails, and wrote back "Dave -- you're an asshole -- why would you stir things up like this?"
I defended myself that I hardly rented the two a room in a hotel, I was simply sending along greetings from one old law school friend to another. Lili apologized right away -- saying she had been "off her meds" for awhile and snapped at me for no good reason. For my part, I kind of enjoyed it -- telling her I often AM an asshole, and precious few people in my life call me that epithet -- so we cool.
So it's good for my ego, I guess, to be insulted every once in awhile -- although this one was next level. EVERYONE I talked to about Wifey's absence was in disbelief that she actually attended an affair where her husband was excluded on account of I might act the drunken lout and "ruin the entire affair."
It was particularly funny, as other attendees had histories of far worse vices than a few too many martinis.
But -- that's ok, except for one thing that isn't: Wifey needs a wheelchair to travel home today, on account of her bad back has flared up terribly. This is the third time it's happened -- I call these periods her intifadas -- and this current one appears very bad.
So I assume there'll be a Delta man in ATL pushing her to the gate, and one in MIA wheeling her to the curb. As I said -- 4 decades can make a big difference.
Still -- I know she will recover -- she has before. I figure there's a miniscule chance that her problems are structural and need surgery. The overwhelming likelihood is that the stress of the past months -- put into a no - win situation where she would either greatly hurt her spouse or a lifelong friend -- is taking up residence in her lower back.
Therapy will, hopefully, kick it out, and Wifey can go on to savor her manifold blessings here at home: 2 amazing grandsons, 2 daughters and sons in law who all love her and live in the 305, and even local friends who still want to be with her even though she tends to not return their calls.
We have a nice Fall trip planned for late September to Philly. I hope she can go -- it includes a cocktail party at the gorgeous Ritz Carlton there -- a converted historic bank -- I've stayed a few times. Paul and Patricia are going, as well as Barry and both boys and future daughter in law, as well as Uncle Lou and some of Paul's awesome Philly crew. There's also a terrific Jewish Museum, which bears another visit -- we were there several years back while attending the wedding of the daughter of another of Wifey's friends -- I wasn't uninvited to that one.
I bought trip cancelation insurance in case Wifey is not up to it. It seems to me that as we age, have aging relatives, or young children, trip insurance is a good idea.
But I hope come 9/22, I can put on Frank singing "Come Fly With Me," and there'll be another trip to MIA -- no wheelchairs this time.
I guess the Big Man will decide...
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