Boomer Dinosaurs

 So last night we had a terrific dinner with very close friends, and were joined by their younger son, with whom we are also very close. He recently started his first real job -- a position he found himself with no nepo help, and we're thrilled for him. Important for his parents, he finally has health coverage, and so his Dad can cease the huge Obama care monthly premiums...

We asked him all about it, and he mentioned that he was still planning a trip to Europe in late September -- although he gets no vacation time with this start up until he's there a year, he had told them during the application process that he already had plans and would miss that week. The company agreed.

Wifey, who like her late mother says what's on her mind, starting questioning him -- why did he need to take that trip, shouldn't he be more concerned with impressing his boss with his commitment than leaving so soon for what is truly frivolous, why wouldn't he put it off? He's already been to Europe a few times, so this isn't some "dream of a lifetime" excursion -- and it's funny to note his parents, hard working for decades, have NEVER been to Europe.

Our young man was polite but steadfast -- no -- he WAS taking the trip -- it's what he wanted, had gotten an early pass, and that was that. Hopefully all turns out well -- his millennial boss gets it, and his budding career with the start up doesn't get quickly abridged.

On the way home, Wifey and I talked about it -- I told her things really HAVE changed. D2, during her tenure as a "People" officer with a company, what we used to call "Personnel" or later "Human Resources," explained that a long tenure with an employer was a liability. In our day, it was impressive to hear someone had been with a company for decades. Now, apparently, if someone stays more than a few years without some sort of equity in the operation, they're frowned upon -- not aggressive enough about advancing their own career such that it's harder to get a new job. Wow.

I thought back on my first lawyer job -- enduring blatant anti-semitism from my boss, and simply accepting it since Wifey and I had a mortgage, I wasn't a top of the class guy, and was happy to have the paycheck. Wifey's jobs were also rife with issues -- but it seemed like such a privilege to get paid for what we did, we stayed and got the pay check.

We ARE so out of touch, as Mick Jagger sang when he was still a young man. Now in his 80s, he's REALLY out of touch. In matters of careers, it seems, we are, too.

And it's not just jobs. The WSJ, which I finally broke down and subscribed to, electronically of course, had an article about Boomers giving more to their adult kids while they were alive, as opposed to waiting until estate time. Wifey and I always did that -- the Ds chose public schools throughout, and the money I would have paid in tuition towards Ransom, and Emory, and whatever, I invested for them -- and given the rise of the markets over the past decades, made them, in the words of Hall and Oates, rich girls.

Maybe that was folly. When I started making money, maybe I should have turned to cocaine, and exotic sports cars, and expensive escorts. Ha -- I'm SUCH a Walter Mitty -- a reference the youngins won't get.

Wifey and I and the Ds have enjoyed an amazing life -- yeah, due to my work efforts, it turned out, and I never took it for granted. We've lived in a house for nearly 26 years now where EACH time I pull into the driveway, beyond the gates, I can't believe I live here.

Back when I used to go to the street to fetch the Herald, I always expected to hear "Hey kid -- what the hell are you doing here -- get the hell out!" I still feel that way -- we are SO lucky and blessed.

When Wifey and I were first married, if we needed a new AC unit for our 1200 square foot house, it would have freaked us out. Last week I happily Zelled Danny the AC guy nearly $8K for a new bedroom unit, and was happy that we ought to be good for another decade or so with the Rheem/Rudd (they've merged, it seems).

So we Boomers probably would be most helpful getting the hell out of the way. Paul and I sure have in the law business. We still have a firm, but other than referring cases that still come our way, and Paul grinding the guys who take over about the results -- we're pretty irrelevant. The other day Paul mentioned a statute of limitations question. I reminded him those changed like 7 years ago!

I guess every generation, as they age into decrepitude, defaults to the "In my day" mode. Jeff and Lili's girl is a rising 3 L in Chicago. Turns out, they no longer torture law students with the socratic method. I wonder how that will play out when some client has his lawyer come under pressure in a major case.

My doctor friends are always flummoxed at how soft the new Residents and Fellows are. I guess we'll all find out how that turns out as we need more and more medical care from young doctors. 

Who knows? Maybe AI will render much of that moot, anyway.

So I chose MY path, and it will NOT include cocaine, luxury sports cars, or escorts. Even though Wifey was initially turned off by my lease of a Buick, last night she saw, for the first time, the LED strip lights and said "Wow -- this looks like a limo."

I WILL splurge on better vodka. I plan to have Stoli Elit and Zyr for my 65th. And then the best all of us Boomers can do is watch and listen.

Our old ways are passing into history.

Grandkids

 So Wifey and I both grew up with loving parents, but no real involvement with grandparents. For Wifey, it's on account of the Nazis killing all 4 of hers, along with most of the rest of my late suegros' families. For me, my Dad's Dad was gone 6 years before I was born, my Mom's Dad died when I was just a little boy (I have a single memory of visiting him in a hospital bed) and I wasn't close with my grandmothers.

Jennie, my Dad's Mom, always seemed SO ancient to me, and our bi-monthly visits to her apartment in Jackson Heights were most memorable to my child self for the strong stench of urine, due to her incontinence. My Dad would bring her some groceries, and the daily Forward, the Yiddish paper she preferred, and then we would go upstairs and see my Aunt and Cousin -- also not close -- but no urine smell.

Wifey got to meet Jennie once, and it led to a humorous misunderstanding. We were in NY, and I wanted to have Wifey meet my Aunt, but she had other plans that day (there was a reason my Mom only barely tolerated her sister in law) but she told me which nursing home "Mama" was in. It was funny, I always recalled Jennie as cold and mean, but in her final time of dementia, she had become a ray of sunshine -- smiling and giggling.

I told her hello, and that I was her grandson, and she said no -- she only had Steve. I said I was Hy's son, and she insisted Hy had Trudy and Susan. I guess the memory banks ended in the 40s or 50s, and my 1961 birth didn't make the cut. But then I introduced Wifey, and decided to use the Yiddish version of her name,  Faye, since I figured the Hebrew name would be confusing. They met, and that was the last time we saw her, but then came the funny part.

Weeks later, Anne called my Mom and said she had no idea I was gay. What? "Mama said David came to visit with his faygellah (Yiddish slang for gay). So I had no real relationship with Jennie, but at least the final event was hilarious.

Anna, my Mom's Mom, DID spend time with us on LI, but between her mumbling and heavy Yiddish accent, I never understood a single word she said. She had so many grandkids and great grandkids, and so I treated her with respect, and she was nice enough (though inscrutable to me) but I recall zero meaningful encounters. My Mom would tell me snippets of her folk wisdom, but I never got them first hand.

Wifey got to meet her, too, once -- at a nursing home in West Palm Beach. She was indeed ancient -- I think she made it to 97, and for me, that was a woman who seemed old world ancient in her 60s.

Wifey's parents and my Mom were indeed close with the Ds. Since Wifey is an only child, the Ds were kind of a big deal to the two Holocaust Survivors. And MY Mom was a hoot to them -- her quirkiness was the seed of warm memories, like the time she broke the silence in our mini van to sigh and say "Ah -- it's 430." The Ds asked -- so what? Was she expecting a call, or was there a show on? "Oh now, I just looked at my watch. To this day, 430 is Grandma Sunny time...

And now...well...we kind of cotton to D1's boys. Friday was Baby Man's last day of preschool 3 performance, and Wifey actually made it into the car at 730 am for the trip to North Miami! Wifey no longer does mornings. It was a delightful scene -- Little Man mad a sign for his brother, and sang and danced along to the songs the little ones performed.

There's lots of exotic Jews there -- South American, European, along with the garden variety ones like us. One little girl looked Asian -- sure enough -- Jewish Dad and Asian Mom. I asked D1 if she was accepted to MIT yet...

We decamped to Bagel Bar East, and D2 met up with us. She and Jonathan are working hard at bringing a new member to the Band as well. Big Man willing -- we're hoping that's the news of 2027.

The boys left for Naples with their Dad -- soccer tonight, and some time at Wolf Lodge, which they love. The Ds, Wifey, and I went to D2's house and spent quality time with Betsy the enormous puppy, and Lemon, the skittish Spaniel. Lemon came home with us since D1 has a friends' reunion in Chicago.

One of her group is Caroline, a delightful and brilliant young woman, now a doc there. Her father Michael was an amazing man -- top surgeon in Miami -- the kind of guy who went to patients' houses to check on them, and had yearly charity trips to Haiti. He was a Richard Corry -- had it all -- but also demons -- he killed himself in 2018. As I saw the photo of Caroline , it struck me how sad her Dad will never meet his grandkids. 

So today, the skittish Spaniel will get a walky walk soon, and then a chill Saturday until this evening -- we're meeting Barry and Donna for dinner in Doral at Basilico -- precisely 20 minutes from each or our houses. Donna jokes that she will be an OLD grandma -- Scott, who is married, doesn't seem too close to having kids with Sam, and Josh is finding his path professionally now.

I hope they get this supreme blessing. I've heard it a lot, but now I know for myself -- grandkids are pretty, pretty, pretty wonderful. What I missed out on as a grandchild, I am MORE than gifted with as a Grandpa. And I dig it.

If You See Her, Say Hello

 So for me, it was a busy am. I awoke late, near 9 am, and spoke to Paul in Provence -- enjoying the beauty of the place but able to do without the French. It reminded me of an old friend Vince, Sr. who was there during WW II. He said Paris was the most beautiful city he ever visited -- if only Italians lived there, instead of French.

I began my constitution and called lawyer Tom in Michigan, who referred us a client -- his daughter's friend. She lost a finger tip in a bar in Key West. Who hasn't? We referred the claim to young Michael, and he go another absurdly positive result -- settling for probably 4 times what I thought the case was worth. Tom was thrilled, of course, and we talked football. His son in law, from upstate NY, is, strangely, a huge Dolphins fan -- likely since he resented the local Bills for their omnipresence there. We agreed his son in law would NOT be celebrating this year, or for many seasons...

I then ran into neighbor Oscar, whose son is serving decades in Federal prison. I tried to refer the son to my friend Joel, but the young man's ex wife picked his lawyer -- a move I never understood. Oscar told me they're appealing -- using a guy Joel respects. Oscar is a sweet man -- late 70s, Muslim from Guyana -- served the US Army in Vietnam. He's none too pleased with the government these days.

I came home and made a call I've been Jonesing to make -- to Florida Blue. I told them I had made my final payment of $2200 for my ObamaCare plan, with its high deductibles. First, I shut off Auto pay, and then called the company -- telling them my Medicare begins July 1. I figured they'd try to sell me one of their inferior Medicare Supplement Plans, but the agent did not -- just confirmed the dates, and that was it.

Young Josh called to ask if I was free tonight -- I told him other than bartending for Lili during Mah Jong, I was. He may stop by -- and if he does there'll be pizza along with a martini or two. His parents' 35th anniversary is today -- I plan to make him nauseous by telling him maybe go home REAL late -- lest he catch them cavorting naked in the swimming pool. I know how to sicken adult kids...

Meanwhile, I got to feeling nostalgic, and put "Blood On The Tracks" on Sonos -- hence the title of this entry. I guess 65 drawing close hits hard that far more years are behind me than ahead. And that's ok. There have been good times. DAMN good times as David Lee Roth sang.

Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of our law school graduation. They were heady times. I was clerking for Dan Schwartz, an insurance defense lawyer and avowed anti-semite who I though was Jewish. He thought I was NOT. "I wouldn't have hired you if I knew you were a fucking Jew," he said. I needed the job, wasn't exactly top of my class, and so I just laughed him off. I only stayed until August of '87 -- his biggest clients fired him when they realized he had left control of the firm in the hands of Vanessa, his name only partner who spent more time doing cocaine than working the cases.

Dan died young -- my friend Pat told me he had become a pariah at Riviera CC for cheating at golf. Yeah -- I didn't mourn his loss, and, in fact, appreciate the strange tales that first job gave me. As for the anti-semitism, he sort of beat the Christmas rush, so to speak. I wonder if he'd send money to the likes of Tucker Carlson, AOC, and Platner in Maine if he was alive...

So the days flow on and on, and it's nice to enjoy them. And if you see her, say hello...

All Cool in the 305

 So Jorge and his boy Marlon, a Music student at Miami Dade College, arrived bright and early Friday, to remove our old (11 years) bedroom AC unit and replace it with a new one. Wifey and I left around noon for North Miami -- Marlon said they had about an hour to go.

Danny had assured me they were fine to trust in the house. I laughed. I got nothing much to steal! I have one hidden safe with cash and some gold coins, and I guess Wifey's jewelry, but the rest of the stuff? We returned home late, and the bedroom was nicely cooled -- the fellows did their work.

We found our way to the Scott Galvin Center, named for the first openly gay mayor of North Miami who secured the funding for the lovely facility. And as we watched the kindergartners parade in, it struck me why Barry and Kenny chose Pediatrics -- children are precious. They performed, and got their diplomas, and the cuteness level was immeasurable. Little Man beamed -- he's off to the First Grade Gifted Program in the Fall, and had LOTS of questions about whether that meant it would be more work. It would.

Wifey and I decamped to Temple Beth Moshe to fetch Baby Man, and take him to D2's house where Tio Jonathan was working from home. Baby Man is a delight -- so much more mellow without his hurricane older brother, and we enjoyed him, too, before all re-locating to D1's for Uber Eats Turkish food and a cocktail for Jonathan and me -- toasting the first of what will hopefully be many more graduations.

We packed Little Man into the car, and before we hit I-95 he was fully PTFO. We got him home, and he wanted to collapse onto the couch, but I shepherded him upstairs and the deepest of 6.5 year old sleeps. It had been quite the day.

Saturday, D1 suggested we take him to see a new kids' movie out, but he instead decided to enjoy the privilege we provide here: doing nothing. D1 has a multitude of activities when he is home -- here he can watch shows, play on his IPad, build with blocks...

I took him to the Falls Roasters, and got the news that they were closing -- the rent had become untenable. But, most of the staff was simply relocating 1.5 miles north to the Dadeland location. Little Man was given a going away black and white, and I was given a $25 gift certificate. That'll pay for one breakfast with Trump era prices -- assuming I avoid the lox!

Later, we visited Chick-Fil-A for a takeout order, and then I FaceTimed with Dr. Barry as I squeezed orange juice --Little Man loves it in a cup, as his Grandpa Dave drank his with some vodka, and we toasted the graduate. No one advised him about "plastics." I guess these days it would be "AI."

Sunday we were up early, to House of Bagels, where we got chocolate chip bagel and cookie for Baby Man, and chocolate chip bagel and a B and W for Little Man. I dropped him with D1, who had plans to take them to a Balloon Museum pop up (Ha!) at Wynwood and a birthday party afterwards. I came home and napped.

I cut a check for Baby Man's 4th -- to be held at Mitzvah Kitchen the am after MY birthday -- since D1 will be in Cali on his actual birthday. Rabbi Yossi and Nechama run it -- the kids get to play in the activities they have for the special needs kids, and bake cookies for themselves and to box off for food challenged folks. It's become quite an operation -- corporations have team building sessions there, and Camillus House gets thousands of meals -- glatt kosher -- though they don't care about that.

This am I was back at the gym, and then Danny emailed me the new warranty info and invoice for the new AC -- nearly double what it cost 11 years ago. But, apparently I can get a tax credit -- so there's at least SOMETHNG good for the rich white man.

But most importantly -- the new unit works -- WELL. No AC -- we would be heading elsewhere to live -- especially in the Summer. 

Each time I feel its refreshment -- I give thanks. This cool, rockin' Daddy and Granddaddy in the USA needs to actually be cool...