Wacky Neighbors

 So Friday Wifey drove to NE Miami to have lunch with her friends, shop at some boutique they enjoy, and then stop by Villa D1 and Joey to spend the final hours with the grandsons before their parents returned from SF. Our consuegra Jackie was knackered, as the Brits say -- she was the general of the operation -- and relieved to be able to go home.

Meanwhile, Allison had called, saying she was coming Saturday to finish the decoration of our outside areas - Wifey had told her she was busy Friday. But I wasn't! C'mon down, my sista -- we'll enjoy a fun Friday Happy Hour as we awaited Wifey. She agreed, and came by with her MANY special needs dog gummy -- poor guy -- a testament to Allison and her heart that she adopted him.

So Allison moved around the new furniture, added some stuff she had bought at Home Goods, and then we got down to the serious business of cocktails and catching up. I ordered in sushi, with pad thai for Wifey since she HATES sushi, and we sat in the kitchen drinking and eating, with the debriefing, finally, of the cruise they had taken together.

And there came a knock at the front door. It was our across the street neighbor Monica, Vienna, the strange rescue dog in tow. Vienna, though we thought she was past her wandering ways -- was NOT -- and Monica was bringing her home. I invited Monica in and offered a martini -- at first she politely declined, but I am THAT guy who used to lure people to parties -- and I still got it.

She called her husband Steve, and the party was ON!

They moved in years ago, when Pat and Susan moved to PA, and though we talk outside and like them, never had the chance to really socialize. They're an interesting couple. Monica is from D.C, and the daughter of a long time State Department attache -- she's lived all over Latin America -- and has a degree from UM. Steve is Miami born and bred -- appears like a boat guy, which he is, but then you learn he and his family OWN several marinas from Bay Harbor up the coast. Truly the millionaire next door type.

They have 3 kids -- a girl who works locally after graduating FIU, a son starting law school following his recent graduation from FSU, and a high school senior who goes to Catholic school.

Steve is VERY conservative, as I knew from our brief chats, and Monica more middle of the road. We avoided politics.

But we talked a lot -- of OLD Miami, and the places we all partied. And they drank. A LOT. A 1.75liter Stoli bottle was drained. Steve acquitted himself very well on my Maker's Mark. We laughed and reminisced. I stopped drinking after martini 3, and was glad I did. Wifey walked everyone to the front gate around midnight.

Yesterday was a slow, morning after the night before, sort of day. Allison finished her tasks, and we brought in pizza. Allison didn't know I still have a big vinyl collection and a working turntable in my man cave above the garage, which is newly habitable again after weeks of a working dehumdifier, and we played Steely Dan and Springsteen and Norah Jones, as Wifey perused old photo albums of our family trips in the late 90s and sent the pix to the Ds.

Allison and Gummy left around 10, but as she was packing up, noticed some flying objects. Sure enough, her room and the guest bath had a swarm of carpenter ants. I luckily had some foggers, and set off three. I realized our bedroom ACs share those two lower bedrooms, and so Wifey and I camped out in the Family and Living rooms. But success: this am the counters and floors looked like the Egyptian Air Force after the IDF finished with them. I'll vacuum up the bodies later, after the airing out finishes.

I think the problem stemmed from no exterminator visits for the past months. Our long time guys hadn't come, and Wifey called, a few times, and then got that "Hey wait -- it's been a long while" look.

So this am I am online asking neighbors -- I'll take over the exterminator duties -- I prefer to not have a night of dogfighting carpenter ants in the future.

Today seems like a good day to stay inside -- it's still hot as hell. Supposably, as the Miamians say, the heat is lightening a bit next week -- I'll resume my walks. But today -- AC will be my friend.

Steve and Monica cook, and they want to have us over for dinner, which is nice. I know what to bring -- vodka and Maker's. 

It Takes A Small City

 Hillary Clinton used to love to quote the old African saying, that it takes a village to raise a child. In D1 and Joey's case, it takes a medium sized city.

They're away for 4 nights in SF, and have an army of us helping with child drop off and pick ups and of course babysitting. Joey's mother Jacqui is the general -- she's been spending all the nights there, with nannies. D2 is helping with a lot of the NephewUbering, and I am a mere private in this army -- I fetched D1 on Monday, and will do so again tomorrow afternoon.

D1 and Joey realize how lucky they are, and are savoring a few days away. Joey has work, and D1 is chilling with her dear friends Hannah and her husband Joe, along with an adorable girl with the same name as D2! We call her D2-2.0.

Wifey is headed up this afternoon to spell Jacqui a bit, and will go Friday as well, following a meet up with her friends that happens to be in D1 and Joey's hood.

Meanwhile, I've been doing a bit of unofficial pro bono work this week -- I spoke to no fewer than 3 clients about possible cases, explaining to each why they do NOT have cases -- at least ones my posse could handle for them.

One woman, a nurse, told me how her father had died from a clear medical error at a Lauderdale hospital. He was in his 70s and single, and I explained to her that under Florida law, when an adult dies from malpractice, only a spouse or kids 25 or younger can claim damages. The fellow was retired, and so his estate has no claim, either.

Another friend, a doc, told me about a patient he had who lost 4 fingers as a result of a delay at a public hospital, also in Broward. The fellow, now called Lefty (oh, that is so nasty of me) consulted with a lawyer who told him that given the damage caps, his case made no economic sense. I concurred, and told my doc friend I couldn't help him.

And the third potential client, a woman we represented years ago, wanted her mother to sue as the result of a botched pacemaker procedure. Even though we settled a case her family had for millions, decades ago, she went to two other law firms first -- her son had a lot of lawyer friends. Can't help her, either.

Meanwhile, at Villa Wifey, the decorating/updating is nearly finished -- our friend Allison is coming tomorrow for a few days for the last touches.

Of course, this means that Wifey says we ALSO need updating of our kitchen and guest bathrooms. Luckily -- no major construction -- just one new bathtub and new tiling with some new plumbing fixtures. Oh yeah -- we need our dining room ceiling painted, too, since it's such a "Regal space" and needs that.

Whatever. We've decided to stay for the duration -- might as well make Wifey happy. I'm happy when stuff simply works, and there are no leaks.

My California sister called with the sad news that her friend of 20 years died. I never met her -- she was 82. Sue says she "can't wrap her head around death." I reminded Sue someday she won't have to -- death seems to be quite good at wrapping itself around you!

I was blessed/cursed to be the only one of my parents' kids to be with them when they died. Dad died in my arms. Mom had passed probably 15 minutes before I arrived at her room -- I was there to kiss her cooling forehead goodbye. 

In both cases, it gave me closure, painful as it was. I guess if you aren't actually touching a dead relative, it remains somewhat of an abstraction.

Well -- hopefully the Reaper stays away for quite awhile.

For now -- I got grandparenting chores to do -- even as a lowly private!

The Heat Is Back

 We really lucked out this year weather-wise, so far. It was unseasonably lovely until just recently -- and now the heat is back.

Wifey and I left to meet Joelle and Kenny last evening, and I counted: she complained about the heat 7 times -- she was sweating going from the house to the car, walking the few blocks from Joelle and Kenny's to the restaurant, etc... I reminded her that the more she complains, the more likely it is to get cooler. Ha!

We still had a lovely dinner -- Koko's, upscale Mexican. The place was packed, with people, as usual, younger than we were. I think our server was about 10. Probably early 20s, but as we get older, the kids look younger. Afterwards we went back to their place to clean out their ice cream supply, as they were due to leave very early this am for Maine. Wifey was weather-jealous.

Today I walked a bit later than usual, and it WAS hot, though not yet humid. It reminded me of Vegas -- a dry-ish heat. I'm sure Miami's heat's friend humidity will be along any day now.

Yeah -- but what are ya gonna do? In my case, this means pool season. I return from a sweaty 2 mile walk, strip down naked, and then jump into the cool water. Our pool gets a lot of shade, and the water never gets bathtub temperature, as many pools around here do. It's SO refreshing, and a constant reminder why I can never live in a condo. My skinny dipping in a community pool would result in arrest instead of relaxation.

Probably by late July/early August, I'll be ready for a cool down. Our friends with houses in Western NC and Maine have invited us, and we appreciate it, but I kind of like being served and pampered by a hotel staff. I figure maybe I'll come up with a travel suggestion for a change -- typically that's Wifey's Department.

I just need someplace where the night time temperatures have a 5 as the first number. We're not likely to see any temps starting with a 6 until at least early October, if then.

As for today, the family is due here at 330. D1 has taken orders for Joanna's -- Little Man has been requesting bagels, and though it is Mother's Day, in our family every holiday is Grandchild's Day. 

We look forward to a boisterous house with dogs and kids and young people. And then, by tonight, quiet again. This empty-nesterhood suits us rather well.

Hillary Clinton used to quote the African saying that it takes a Village to raise a child. In D1's case -- more like a small city. She is going to SF with Joey this week for a few nights, and we're all pitching in with Little Man and Baby Man pick ups and drop offs. My job is Monday and Thursday. 

Nestor the handyman was here yesterday assembling some outdoor furniture, and a new huge patio umbrella that covers the table by the pool. I'm guessing the stuff won't get too much use now for several months. 

So here's to a great MD. The days are hot, but exquisite. And before long, football will be back! Before then, the Marlins beckon. And they play in a nice, cool, retractable roof stadium.

Mother's Day

 So the weekend of honoring our "Birth Persons" is upon us. That's really a term in our Woke era. I'm told by someone on good authority that Miami's largest Children and Women's hospital now uses the term "pregnant person" instead of "pregnant woman." Really.

This brings back a class I still recall from 9th grade, where we learned what euphemisms were. Sanitary landfill instead of garbage dump. Woke culture is a sanitary landfill.

Anyway, there's of course a tinge of sadness for Wifey and me, since we ain't got not living mothers no mo. Both Rachel and Sunny lived long, full lives --Rachel's chock full of tragedy, unlike Sunny's. They loved their families fiercely. So this MD, we will of course toast to their memory.

Jonathan's cousin is coming from LA, and so he and D2 asked if we might celebrate MD Saturday instead of Sunday. Indeed! In fact, food delivery services are more normal the day before -- so we welcomed the date edit.

The plan is for the group to arrive post Baby Man nap, around 3, and I will pour adult beverages for my wonderful sons in law, and maybe Prosecco for D1 and D2. As an added benefit, Joey has promised he will lead a clean out of our garage, long an extra storage facility for both Ds and their families. A lot of stuff was D1 keeping baby stuff for her sister, but after several years in the musty garage, a lot has to be tossed. Will we actually able to get a single vehicle in our 2.5 car garage, for the first time in years? I guess we'll see.

It's funny -- I store and schlep for NO ONE except the Ds. Kenny and Joelle left their car here for a few weeks while they were away -- that was ok -- just had to move it a few times to let a roofer do the work. But actual storage? No way, no how.

Anyway, we plan to celebrate D1, a mother extraordinaire, as Paul would say, and D2, a dog mom of excellence, and hopefully someday a human Mom, too.

And of course Wifey -- the reason for our MD season, who gave so much of herself to our beloved Ds that I appreciate and honor her forever, despite her many marital trespasses against me. Ha. 

Speaking of MY Mom, she left us with an adorable legacy: Grandma Sunny Time. That's 4:30 p.m. It comes from a trip back home from somewhere, with the Ds and my Mom in the back seat. The SUV was quiet, and all of a sudden my Mom sighed, and said "Ah -- it's 4:30."  The Ds asked so what. "Oh nothing," she replied, "I was just looking at my watch."

My Mom had an inscrutable internal dialogue going on at all times, and the truth is, the time must have meant something to her. But to us, 4:30 will forever bring a smile.

And, indeed, Wifey and I will be leaving this afternoon at Grandma Sunny time for the Grove, for an early dinner with Joelle and Kenny. They're leaving VERY early tomorrow for Maine, for their beloved lake house, and we thought we'd have a farewell event. I think Joelle will get to celebrate MD with both her sons in Maine this year. MD will be tough for Kenny -- this will be the first since his beloved Mom Toby passed away. I plan to toast the 3 missing Moms tonight -- Joelle's blessed to still have hers with us.

So thanks to all the formerly pregnant people who carried us and brought us to this world. In my case, I always knew my Mom was beautiful, and being loved and adored by a beautiful woman imbued me with self confidence that probably exceeds my abilities and accomplishments. And that's ok -- it served me well -- I truly never doubted my ability to get what I wanted.

And somehow, what I have, in the form of my amazing family, is far more precious than what I ever knew I wanted. I guess that's why Mother's Day is so important to me.

Restlessness Changes With Age

 So I remain a lay observer of the human condition, following the advice of my late, great Organic Chemistry professor, Harry P. Schultz. He always reminded us that regardless of our scientific acumen, we are all students in the study of human nature.

And I have made an acute observation, as I approach my 63rd birthday. I am forbidden by domestic law from EVER mentioning Wifey's age -- I'm not even allowed to state that she was born in Israel while Dwight D Eisenhower was president of the US. Ha -- I was born when Kennedy was POTUS.

Anyway, the issue is restlessness -- the need to find "something else" or "something better." I had a LOT of male friends who were restless in our 20s, 30s, and 40s -- it often led to divorce. Sometimes it was the wife who was restless, but more typically the husband was having a cliched mid-life crises, and he thought he could calm himself with a younger wife.

But later, to my observation, if the man had achieved a degree of success by his late 50s or early 60s, he tended to want to keep the status quo. His kids were grown and gone, and he enjoyed empty nesterhood, except for those with failure to launch, or boomerang kids. They make do.

But the wife -- after the kids are grown -- seems to want CHANGE. She often can't pinpoint exactly what change she wants , but KNOWS she wants change.

I think Family lawyers will back me up in this observation -- typically later life divorces, after the kids have grown, are initiated by the wife.

I realize I'm a dinosaur, and not taking into account same sex marriages, let alone those involving the entire LGTBQRSTUVW spectrum. I always add "RSTUVW" since I assume future permutations of sexuality will be discovered and accepted as we move forward. I assume the same sex marriages have their own dysfunctions, but in my circle, we're old male-female phenotypes.

Here at Villa Wifey, I see this. Our house, to me, is perfectly fine -- Wifey spent over 6 figures from the time before Covid until recently -- but I am now told we need an updated kitchen and all new bathrooms.

If left to my own devices, I would do nothing -- we rarely host anymore -- surely only the occasional overnight guest -- but I am being told I am wrong. I probably am.

Wifey announced we would no longer be hosting Thanksgiving -- my favorite holiday. Even though the past years we had it catered, and even had a party delivery company bring tables and plates and silverware, Wifey still hurt her back, somehow, and is now out of the T Day biz -- looks like D2 and Jonathan are on deck for this year -- though I will pay for a caterer.

Nonetheless, yesterday I was told our dining room "needed refreshing" -- maybe a custom ceiling painting, or wallpapering? I don't know.

I have one friend whose wife's happiness depends solely on his. Years ago, Wifey asked her what made her truly happy, and she turned to her husband for the answer. 

Yeah -- my buddy is a unicorn.

For the rest of us aging husbands, we have to navigate dangerous waters -- far more perilous, at least for me, than the shoals and currents of younger marital days.

But as we know, typically the wives outlive the husbands. As I learned just this week, an old work friend Howard has left the party. I'm sure his widow Lynn is doing just fine with the remaining proceeds of his long legal career.

Can't I just be left quietly alone, without the tumult of home construction? Apparently the answer is a resounding "No!"

Turning Up Dead

 So it's been a pretty busy grandparent few days around here. Sunday Wifey and I spent a lovely day with the boys and their parents, and Monday I drove back to the Shores area to fetch Baby Man with D2 -- Joey's out of town and D1 needs some family Uber help.

After the fetch, we had a great Monday night getty -- Jonathan came home early, and Dr. Barry and Donna and their boy Scott all convened at D2's house - Scott in town from D.C. for a few days. I checked the vodka supply for martinis, and realized there was a serious shortage. But UberEats delivered some Tito's and a bottle of Maker's in precisely 25 minutes -- from the North Miami Big Daddy's.

It occurred to me I never want to live in an area too far from delivery services -- I have become QUITE spoiled. What if the vodka shortage happened at a rural outpost? It may have been tragic.

Anyway, we caught up, and then caravanned to New Schintzel House, which was happy to have our party of 6 on a slow Monday night. It was lovely.

Yesterday, Wifey felt up to another drive, and we fetched Baby Man at his preschool, and went to D2's again -- he happily played and watched his favorite, Elmo, on the big screen TV. Then we dropped him at his house, and made the traffic drive home, so Wifey could greet her at-home PT, who is helping with neck pain.

But the other day, I learned an old business contact turned up dead. It was the second time this happened. The first time was with a Jewban fellow named David, with whom we handled a LOT of cases during our busy days. We lost touch with him after we turned down a chance to handle his wife Rosa's claim against a condo, and a few years went by. And then, at the funeral of our friend Jeannette's father, also a Jewban named David, as we stood in the pouring rain graveside, Wifey noticed another stone and said "Look -- that fellow has the same name as your old friend."

Well, it WAS the old friend -- he had died a few years before, as we learned as Wifey did a quick search in the car afterwards. He was in his 70s. It struck me how a fellow who was so much a part of our work life -- handling big cases, and partying afterwards, was now permanently lying in the Jewish cemetery beneath the loud flight path of jets landing at MIA. 

The other day, I was looking for another obit for a friend -- guy named Howard who had died at 59. I typed in "Miami, Howard, Obituary" and found him -- along with ANOTHER former lawyer with whom we had a lot of cases!

Howard and Alan were major advertising lawyers -- huge billboards and lots of TV ads, with a building  on US1 that everyone passed. We handled a lot of cases with them, too.

The first time, Howard called me for a second opinion -- he was going to settle a near drowning case of a little girl for the $300K of homeowner's coverage -- did I agree? Well, I researched the incident, learned an old boss of mine was a lawyer involved, and he let on that the incident happened during a Boy Scout meeting, and of course we knew that the pool fence had been removed by the homeowners/meeting hosts the day before the meeting, to make the pool look better for an impending home sale.

We took the case and settled for many millions of dollars for the poor family -- and the little girl, left in a vegetative state, died months after we settled. Howard and Alan really dug us after that.

Anyway, over time, we sort of gave Alan and Howard over to Stuart, and all was well, until it wasn't. They had sent Stu a med mal case, and the Mom wasn't happy with the glacial pace of the litigation -- she decided to fire Stu, and reached out to an old acquaintance who she knew -- turned out to be Paul, from an Israel trip years before!

We convinced her to NOT fire Stuart, and we would get involved, which we did -- it was a complicated med mal case defended by the best med mal lawyer in town -- Norman!

Paul got the case settled, and I held the clients' hands, as the parents were in the throes of a nasty split.

When the case settled, I guess Alan and Howard assumed we had saved the case and worked it for free. They assumed wrong, and they were upset when they had to take a haircut on their share of the fee. That ended them sending any new cases to Stu, or us.

Poor Alan got sick afterwards -- with a rare neuromuscular disease that killed him cruelly and slowly -- kind of like ALS. Stu attended his funeral.

Howard sold the firm, to a fellow named Jon, a former classmate of mine, and the building was sold, too -- a real estate firm is there now. I assumed Howard and his wife Lynn lived happily ever after -- just a block north of my 'hood.

And then I saw Howard had died LAST year, at 74! I have no details, but Wifey looked up the house -- Lynn had sold it, and will probably enjoy a comfortable and happy widowhood. Not a bad gig...

So you never know who's gonna die on ya. Jim Morrison famously said no one here gets out alive.

So RIP, Howard. He and Alan were best friends as well as partners -- they used to leave the office daily, go to Howard's house for lunch and then pump iron, followed by some herb, before returning to the office.

Maybe they're doing that in the Hereafter. It's nice to think so...

The Beach And Baseball

 So there are 2 activities I don't do often, but each time I do, say the same thing: "Boy -- I really like this -- why don't I do it more often?" The activities are visiting the beach and going to baseball games.

Both are so readily available for me. Decent beaches are 30 minutes or less away, and baseball provides either the Canes or Marlins. Truth is, I prefer MLB, and last night I attended the first game of the year.

Kenny wanted to see the Fish before he left for the Summer in Maine. Norman was in - Dr. Barry was invited, too, but gave some lame excuse about having to work late. Man -- really? 60 years old and still letting people boss you around? He needs to work on that.

So I drove to the stadium, and Kenny and Norman each Ubered -- Kenny from home in the Grove and Norman from his office in the Gables. Norman scored awesome seats right behind home plate for $18 each, using some app that doesn't tack on big fees like Ticketmaster does.

We each procured some large beers, and peanuts from a vendor, and Kenny got a burger and I got a hot dog, which to me is part of the experience.

The Marlins, playoff team last season, lost most of their starting pitchers to injury, and are in last place. They hosted the Rockies, also in last place. But the atmosphere was nice, the roof was closed so the weather was perfect, and the Marlins won -- first series they've won so far. They ended up sweeping Colorado today -- so maybe this is the start of a run for them!

My negative threadmates make fun of my optimism on the Canes thread, but I don't care. As I explained to them, likely one or more of us will be dead within 10 years, maybe tragically, so why not be optimistic while we're still vertical? No one responded to that.

The only negative for me: I bet $10 on the raffle, and learned today I didn't win the $2500 prize. My optimism really is skewed -- when I buy a lottery ticket, I assume I will win and am always mildly surprised when I don't. Hey -- what can I say?

We stayed for the whole game, as the pitch clock has truly made the games faster, and then I drove Kenny home, and dropped Norman at his office.

It was a delightful day, and then I came home to find Wifey asleep on the couch. I covered her, and left her old movies on, with the volume lowered. Alas, a half hour she came upstairs and freely shared with me how much her neck and arm hurt, and how it had been an awful day because a doctor wants her to do a sleep study and she opposes it.

Oh well -- I guess the fantasy of a ballpark has to end when you get home...I hope Wifey gets better soon --she's had a rough slog ever since she returned from her cruise. Hopefully she gets better -- we sure have lots of great stuff to enjoy if she feels up to it.

To that end, after D1 and Joey return from a trip to SF, we WILL take Little Man and Baby Man to the Marlins. Little Man was there 2 seasons ago. We'll pick a time that doesn't conflict with strict nap schedules, and go.

They already get to go to the beach often. I ought to do that, too.