Good Eatin'

 I really, really need to lose weight. I can't speak for Wifey, but she does, too. She was on Mounjaro for a bit, but got off, and hasn't gone back on. I have preferred the new fangled method: exercising more, and eating less.

I did it well during the first year or so of the Plague. I was so fearful that the novel disease might take our newborn grandson, and the rest of my family, that my appetite waned, and I walked over 10 miles per day, to damp down my anxiety. It worked! I told my sardonic dietitian daughter that it turns out that eating less and moving more leads to svelteness. I probably dropped 40-50 lbs.

Alas, when I realized the Plague was truly Boomer Remover, and killed mostly only old folks, who we care far less about, I started defaulting to my normal: eating like a college boy and exercising less. Back came those pounds! One of these days I'll eat better and less.

But that was NOT this weekend. Fate conspired to have Wifey and I meet Loni and Mike at the new place that opened in the old Coral Gables Shula's spot: Beauty and the Butcher. Wifey and I shared a NY Strip and a pasta dish. Loni and I shared a wedge salad. There was dessert. Mike decided to have 3 mezcal drinks, and not wanting to make him feel alone, had 3 Stoli martinis. It was a delightful meal.

We've probably spent more Valentine's Days with Loni and Mike than any other couple. We talked of days gone by -- like the Charades at a party where one of the guests, Wendy, was given the movie title clue "Octopussy." You can imagine how a buzzed woman tried to convey that clue.

On the same topic, Loni, a long time English teacher, shared that her Department Chair decided that for Valentine's Day, the faculty ought to share a poem at the morning meeting. Loni picked a Sonnet, but some of the younger, feminist teachers picked stuff with titles like "My Vagina is Angry." We may have laughed up some of the sprouts...

We talked about hopefully traveling with them again. We've gone to many away Canes games together, as well as a wonderful trip to France -- we toured Normandy and Mike and I, WW II lay historians (Mike actually probably more knowledgeable than most college professors) as well as many other cities, ending in Paris. Joelle happened to be there, and we shared a great meal with her, followed by a visit to an old fashioned Jazz Club, and Joelle turned us on to a famous souffle place.

We also toured the Pacific Northwest together -- beginning in Oregon and seeing most of the state, and then driving North to Seattle. Again -- a ton of fun.

We're off to Europe in May, and Europe once every few years is plenty for me -- maybe we could take one of those luxury Canadian train trips -- through the Canadian Rockies, staying at the old luxury hotels, like the Chateau Frontenac, where we had a lovely stay with the Ds years ago? Wifey is hopefully going to look into that - I only spent a single day and night in Vancouver, and would like to return.

Tonight, speaking of world travelers, Joelle and Kenny and their boy Nathan are coming to pregame -- before dinner at Platea, our local best Pinecrest restaurant. 

I see all of this as a vast conspiracy designed to maintain my vastness! But it's soooo good.

Tomorrow I think we have the first of two funerals this week -- our dear friend Jeannette's mother Inez died, and will be buried Sunday. She was 91 and had bad dementia -- she was a delightful lady -- a true second mother to Wifey as a young girl in Canarsie.

Inez was the first Honduran Jew I ever met -- married for many years to Dave, a more garden variety Cuban Jew. Jeannette had a younger brother Larry, who suffered with schizophenia. Larry was sweet, but caused such grief to his family -- I recall dinners with Jeannette where she had to leave to go get her brother out of a police station after an episode. Larry died at 50 -- heart attack at the Fellowship House, where he lived many years.

As awful as his death was, it gave Inez and Dave years, finally, of peace -- enjoying their granddaughters and the GREAT granddaughters they were privileged to meet.

Jeannette said Wifey and I needn't attend -- there won't be a shiva, since Jeannette and Bob live with their daughter Samantha, and don't wish to burden their daughter -- I told Wifey it was her call whether we go or not.

If we do, we'll stop for lunch in Doral, near the cemetery, to "make a day of it." My dear late Mom and her sister Lorraine, presented with MANY funerals as the 60 something and 70 something relatives and friends began dropping in greater numbers, would either skip or attend, and if attending, would indeed "make a day of it" by either enjoying the shiva spread or going to lunch afterwards. Nothing changes.

Friday, Alissa's service is scheduled -- at the Mt. Nebo cemetery where WE will end up! They cremated her, and it will be an internment -- again -- Wifey makes the call whether we go or not. Poor Alissa was only 67.

So in the mean time -- another drink, please! While here, I very much plan to savor the pleasures of life.