So yesterday, the first TDay hosted by D2 and Jonathan, was delightful, as expected. There were 25 of us, plus the 2 servers from Catering by Les -- and one of the servers was an old hand with us -- she did TDAy last year, at our house. She said she didn't mind coming a bit North.
Jonathan put me in charge of martinis, and I acquitted myself rather well, if I don't say so myself. It wasn't a heavy drinking crowd, and, to be an environmentalist, only drank the leftover vodka from the shaker, which resulted in the perfect buzz for me.
Joey and his parents repped the Colombia born guests -- Melanie and her Mom were the Mexican born, and Wifey and my consuegro David were the Sabras. David moved to Venezuela at age 4, and Wifey was brought to the good old US and A, as Borat calls us.
It was a terrific group, and it occurred to me -- only 2 of those in attendance could run for president: D1 and me! D2 and the other native born primos were all younger than 35! Of course, D1 and I would wish to be president as much as we'd wish for permanent sewage backups at our houses -- but still -- when you raise girls Miami, getting Latin in laws is a fine occupational hazard.
Had I stayed on LI, I'm guessing the families would be from Long Island or Westchester -- far less interesting and colorful to me. Jonathan's uncle Louie, for example, is an expert on the geopolitics of oil, and he taught me a LOT about the relationship between the Gulf Arab states, Venezuela, and why the US sort of stopped caring about the Marxist takeover of the previously richest nation in South America. As my consuegro David says -- it's not really even a country anymore.
Living in Miami, I always felt so garden variety -- grandson of Eastern European Ashkenazim -- parents born and raised in The Bronx, and followed the classic trajectory of doing better financially and moving to Queens, and, finally, Long Island. And then, following the cliche, retiring and moving to Delray Beach.
The family and guests last night all had more colorful origin stories -- the greatest of whom is the matriarch of Jonathan's family, Judy, who was hidden in a convent to survive WW II, and then spirited out of Europe to Caracas. Her tale, which she just wrote, truly ought to be a movie someday.
Like Wifey, my consuegro David is the child of Survivors, too. And Elana, Jonathan's aunt, has family who came from the same Romanian city as my paternal grandparents: Czernovitz. Elana happens to be a beauty, which tells me my late grandfather Simon must have REALLY thought it was a good idea to high tail it out of there to come to the US...Assuming the ladies all looked like Elana, anyway...
Wifey and I left around 8, and the "after party" continued another hour or so. Jonathan had Fania All Stars on the Sonos, and there was some dancing. Wifey, the most gringa woman in Miami, had ZERO idea who Willie Colon was. She didn't even know about Larry Harlow -- the Judio magnifico, or "Magnificent Jew," who was a major part of the salsa resurgence in 70s NYC and Miami. Wifey was "listening to Joni Mitchell" then.
This weekend, we're dog sitting for Lemon, D1's adorable but skittish Cavalier. D1 and her men are off for a night at Wolf Lodge in Naples, a sort of small Disney-type place -- just 1.5 drive across the Everglades.
Lemon has adopted well -- he may have even earned the right to nap with me, along with Bo, the aging, special needs Spaniel. For I ain't got no other plans today!
So, T Day 2024 is in the books. This week holds old man stuff for me -- annual visit to Dermatologist and Urologist -- to make sure nothing's growing that shouldn't be. Assuming that's the case -- it'll be truly cause for thanks!
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