Thirty Years!

 So on November 15, 1994 a diverse due of Miami lawyers founded a new law firm. The diversity was that the older one was a Philly native and the younger one born in Queens, raised on Long Island. The older one attended GW and then UM Law -- the younger a double Cane. They had met in 1988 when the older one recruited the younger one to join a Plaintiffs' injury firm, and over the ensuing 6 years, they grew increasingly close. The older had high school aged kids; the younger elementary and pre school kids. The younger was married; the older divorced. Of course, I'm talking about Paul and me.

We hatched our plan at Tobacco Road. We needed office space, and walked around town -- nearly grabbing offices in a mostly medical building off Lincoln Road on the Beach. Back then, fashion models strolled the area -- probably would have been too distracting. And then Jeannie, Paul's ex wife and still good friend, told us about an office sharing place called Quantum, in the top building in Miami -- Centrust -- an IM Pei tower that was lit different colors each night. That was the place! We rented 2 offices -- though not adjoining. The one in between had been rented by a fellow named Don Rice, who soon had a tragedy. His boy Jimmy was kidnapped, raped, and killed by a worker on their farm in The Redland. We never saw Don, but thought of him often.

And we were off and running. We met with Ed and Frank, our old bosses, and in an example of  classy behavior few divorcing law firms know, worked out everything immediately. Ed, now of blessed memory, said: "It's simple. We have a deal on fees. Take the cases you want and pay me my end; leave those you want and I'll pay you your end. And so it was -- zero drama. In fact, we worked on major fire cases together far into the future. Sadly, when Ed and Frank broke up, years of nasty litigation and a destroyed friendship followed.

Of course, there needed to be complicated buy/sell agreements, partnership agreements, etc. Except we had none -- just two glasses of iced Stoli, and the pledge that upon the memory of our late fathers George and Hy, we would always treat each other fairly and honorably. And so it has been.

Last night we gathered, 20 of us, in a private room at Capital Grille -- the Brickell restaurant where we had celebrated many of our successes. My brother in law Dennis, our comptroller, and my sister Trudy drove in from Tampa. Paul's girl Tracy flew down from NYC, and Paul's son and daughter in law, and my Ds and their men attended, along with some dear friends who had much to do with our success and with whom we remain close.

It was a banner night -- the food and drink delicious, and tales warm and happy. There were no prepared speeches or AV presentations -- but several people spoke so beautifully about how Paul and I had changed their lives so significantly. I knew pride is a sin -- but I was truly kvelling. Because I AM proud of much of what we have done -- for our clients and for our dear friends and loved ones. Some former employees launched businesses with the bonuses we paid, and bought first houses, and got out of debt.

This am, Paul and I fielded beautiful texts from our guests. It was a lovely way to drink Sunday coffee.

Our houseguests left early for Tampa, and I plan on doing precious little today -- just some basking.

Later, our friend Ronnie is coming over for a "farewell" dinner -- she sold her long held Deering Bay condo and is moving north to Williams Island. We promised to visit up there more -- despite the traffic nickname of the place: Aventorture.

Ah, traffic. Last night we got stuck in it on our way -- Brickell is truly Midtown Manhattan now. My brother in law Dennis said if he lived there he'd kill himself. I reminded him Miami was no city for old men, and he needed to stay alive to care for my sister -- so hopefully it's just hyperbole. I know it is -- and apparently there is near zero traffic where they live -- in Wesley Chapel/Lutz Florida.

So I know there will NOT be another 30 years. Each additional year, if at all, will be a happy surprise. But it was sure nice to stand on the mountain of three decades, and look down with a smile. As Jimmy Buffet sang: good times and riches, and sonofabitches -- I've seen more than I can recall.