Passing Down Cultural Legacy

 So D1 texted -- would Wifey and I like to come to their 'hood to meet at lovely Belle Mead Park? Although Wifey likes to sleep in, the chance to see the boys on a beautiful late Summer day overcame her schedule preferences, and I woke her at 930 to be ready to leave at 1030.

We drove up in the blissfully traffic free morning, and met at the little neighborhood spot. Belle Meade is another gentrified part of old Miami -- in what the realtors now call Miami's UpperEast Side. When I was at UM, it was rife with crime and hookers, but they gated the area, like Morningside, and now it is a MOST desirable place to live -- right on the Bay.

You have 1920s houses right next to modern boxes -- and it's safe and beautiful, and they have a kids' park that was just wonderful. We had it all to ourselves, and had a blast -- playing hide and seek with the nearly 4 year old, who adorably likes to announce where he hides, and asks where the "hider" is going to hide, too, and pushing the Best Baby in the World, as we call the little guy, on the swings.

It was one of those simple, easy mornings, with the sun tolerable under the big blue shade they have, that I have a sense will stay in my memory for a good long while.

They had a seesaw, and I explained to the big boy that if I got on it, he would go flying to the sky. He laughed. We saw a contrail of a very high flying jet, and I pointed it out to him, but he said "No, Grandpa Dev -- that's a rocket ship!" Indeed, it looked like it may well have been..

After an hour or so, we decided to meet at O Munaciello, a cool, funky pizza place right nearby. You could argue these Neapolitans make the best pizza in Miami -- every ingredient made fresh on premises. We shared a white crust and black crust pie, and some salads, and the big boy, though a prodigious eater, doesn't really like pizza that much. He wanted a "Sangwich." Alas, no "sangwiches."

But then I came up with a solution, and in the process passed on some cultural history. I explained that his Grandpa Dev was born and raised in a place called New York, and in New York, we eat our pizza folded.

He was interested. Once we picked off all traces of the green basil (I used to refuse to eat anything green when I was his age, too), we folded one of the delicious slices, and he ate it happily -- followed by two more.

So now this child, whose mother was born and raised in the 305, and father, who was born and spent his first decade in Bogota, before moving to Ohio and then Miami, will carry on an important NY tradition!

I felt pretty confident there will be no more eating pizza with a fork -- like the creep Donald Trump does.

After lunch, the big guy charmed the blonde Italian owner, and then we left -- to "hunt iguanas" on the way back to the car. There were none, but we did see a curly tailed lizard in the park. Ah -- to be a little boy -- the world is truly your oyster -- a place just calling out for you to learn about it, and destroy some of it at the same time -- usually with sticks you find along the way.

D1 and her 3 men left for naps at home, and Wifey and I drove back to Pinecrest happily. D2 and Jonathan were out appliance shopping -- thankfully their house renovation is coming along.

It's a good time to be a Daddy and grandpa in this family.

The couch called out to me for a nap while the 49ers played on TV -- they dominated, and I slept deeply.

I awoke to watch the Dolphins -- a great game that the Fins won out in LA. Mike was there, and texted us the updates -- like the fact that the stands were at least 30 percent Fins fans. I guess LA and parts near has a bunch of ex pat SoFla folks -- either that, or they made a vacation based on the Fins visit to the space ship like new stadium there.

As darkness fell, I took the strange rescue dog for a walk -- after her repeated attempts to get me off said couch finally worked. We walked in the gloaming -- it was lovely -- I got to look skyward and thank the Big Man for all his manifold blessings upon us.

Thursday night is another Canes game, and then Friday we see D1 and family again, for the Jewish New Year. It's a time to take stock and prepare to repent -- leave it to us Jews to celebrate a New Year and just 10 days later have the most solemn day on the calendar. 

But we figured out in biblical times that's life. You're up; you're down. The key is to keep moving forward -- like a little boy exploring an always fascinating world in front of him.