Latest On Health

 Well, first of all, Valentines Day was lovely. I poured cosmos for Loni and Lili and Wifey, lit the firepit, and had to call an audible. Root and Bone wasn't taking Uber Eats orders for VD, and so I switched to Platea -- Peruvian steak and ceviche. They came late, which caused us all to drink more, but it was terrific. And Lili made a guava cheesecake which was amazing. Cheesecake -- the classic dessert from my Askhenazi youth, with guava, classic to Lili's Cuban heritage. A glorious mosaic!

Wifey quizzed Loni and Mike and Jeff and Lili about their new second houses. Lili and Jeff bought a townhouse in New Haven, to be close to their granddaughter, and the fact that their son in law is a little nuts and makes staying at the big house Jeff and Lili helped pay for untenable. They realize that the kids might well move out of New Haven, and then they'll have a new townhouse in a town not exactly in a place to visit, other than to attend Yale or visit family -- but figure real estate is a decent investment, and they can always sell at a profit.

Loni and Mike bought in far west North Carolina -- closest city, about 20 minutes away, is Chattanooga, TN. Wifey asked the attraction, and Loni explained it was just to get out of the tensosity that is Miami. But what do you DO there? Wifey persisted. Mike answered that they get together with fellow Florida ex -pats and meet for drinks and dinner. Oh, Wifey noted -- sort of like we're doing right now?

Hey -- I love when my friends buy other houses, and truly savor visiting them. But Wifey and I agree 100% -- it has zero appeal to us. We'd rather visit, be pampered by a hotel staff, and leave with only our memories and photos -- no worrying about maintainence or anything of that sort.

So the evening ended well, and yesterday I decided to call my doc -- to check on some VERY mild headaches I've had for a few weeks. I assumed right away it was glioblastoma, the always fatal brain cancer, just making its first presence felt in my noggin.

Yes -- it's one of my mental illnesses. I enjoy surprisingly good health for an overweight old guy, and am happy, until I get some subtle symptom, and then I'm checking my will and trust documents.

I had similar mild headaches 10 years ago, and my neighbor Jose, an eminent neurologist at UM, actually gave me a neuro exam at our house -- as D2, home from college, watched and rolled her eyes. Since my symptoms WERE vague and strange, he ordered an MRI, the first I ever had. I liked it -- of all things the music I selected was Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, and I mentally sang along to "The Passenger" as the machine clinged and clanged.

Fortunately, it was the classic "We examined your head and found nothing."

A few years after that, I had belching that wouldn't quit. I decided it was pancreatic cancer -- I think Mayo Clinic online listed belching as one of the symptoms. I saw Neil Rosenkrantz, now retired, and sure enought, I DID have something: H. Pylori! But unlike pancreatic cancer, which would have given me at most 4 or 5 years, the h. Pylori cleared up with a week of "triple therapy" - 3 drugs.

So yesterday I was convinced the brain cancer may have this time really come. I called Dr. Rigo, and spoke to Nurse Nancy, who has dealt with me for close to 30 years now. Could I come right in? I was at a workout, and told Jonathan I needed to leave early.

I arrived and joked that I expected good service with MDVIP. I called at 830 am and they were seeing me at 940 -- couldn't they have found a sooner appointment????

Dr. Rigo saw me and examined me. Sure enough, I have some slight sinus inflammation -- and although sinus headaches are to the front, it could be tension. My ears were pretty wax clogged, and Nurse Nancy cleaned me out.

Dr. R said brain lesions cause other symptoms -- was I speaking any gibberish? I told him that last week I had blurted out "Go Gators!" for no reason -- was that evidence of damage? He's a fellow Cane and doubled over in laughter.

So it appears I may have dodged another anxiety caused bullet. For now...

Meanwhile, with my new lease on life, we drove to fetch Little Man. We took him home and D2 came over with Betsy -- and we spend a delightful afternoon petting local cats (Milkshake was not too happy about Betsy's presence), and playing basketball with Mason, one of Little Man's friends. Mason's Dad Matt came home, and showed us the set up for his son -- a mini bench for weightlifting! Matt is very athletic, and D1 noted he was "building clones."

We came back home as the sun was setting, and played with Baby Man before his bath. It was so lovely.

Jonathan had worked at home, and D2 said we could get dinner together. Jonathan suggested a favorite: New Schnitzel House on 79th Street.

Joey came home, and I told him I had good news and great news to share with him. The good news was that his annoying suegros were leaving. The great news was that they were sending delicious food home with D2 and Jonathan after dinner.

He took the news well.

We had a great dinner, and Wifey drove us home. I fielded a call from Boston Sheryl -- her 92 year old Dad needs a hip replaced! We gave her the name of the guy at Baptist who has done 4 people we know, but her Dad lives in Aventura -- did we know anyone there? We did not.

Sheryl is worried her Dad may not be around much longer. He's 92!!!!! I would sign a contract this very moment to make it there, given reasonable health!

That would mean no pancreatic cancer or glioblastoma. My anxiety will be around, regardless.

El Dia De Amor

 So tomorrow is St. Valentine's Day, and in theory a Jewish guy with a Jewish wife shouldn't have any dealings with a Catholic holiday, right? Ha. As if. Other than the observant -- try ignoring Valentine's with a Jewish girlfriend or wife -- and see how that works out for ya.

Plus, I love it -- the holiday brings out the romantic in me. Over the years Wifey has said it wasn't directed really to her -- I would be romantic no matter WHO my wife was. Hmmm. Like many things she says, I found that inscrutable.

Anyway, two of my favorite VDs came here at Villa Wifey. The first was VD 2001 -- shortly after we moved in. I was totally in love with this house -- living here was beyond any dream I ever had as a kid in the sameness of Wantagh/Levittown split levels.

I set up a table in our front courtyard, and brought out the Ds' boom box, and put in a CD of romantic songs. I set a folding table up, brought in pizza and pasta from DiNapoli, and toasted Wifey and the Ds. I felt like a man who had arrived, surrounded by his beloved Wifey and daughters. It was delightful.

A few years later, our friends Susan and Pat had moved in across the street, and expanded the VD celebration to include couples. As I recall, it was Maureen and David, Susan and Pat, Mike and Loni, and us. The Ds were our happy servers -- bringing the takeout food and desserts out to us, as this time, I had installed speakers under one of the loggio.

Also, since I was in the chips, I had bought nice bracelets for each of the women guests, and hid them under their dishes. After a champagne toast, I had them lift the plates, and they beamed. Yeah -- I did dig romance.

Some years we've gone to Christy's. Other years to other romantic places, but the truth is I enjoy hosting at Villa Wifey most of all.

This year we invited Loni and Mike, and Lili and Jeff to join us. The weather promises to be perfect, and I plan to host out by the pool, with a roaring firepit. I'll bring in Southern food from Root and Bone -- I think they have the best fried chicken and ribs in town.

Today, after my workout, I stopped at Total Wine and bought 2 different bottles of champagne -- and sent all the guests photos of the bottles, to start the mood early.

It's funny. I met Wifey, Loni, Mike, and Jeff all in 1983. Lili came around later -- I think in 1985. So we've all been friends near or more than 4 decades -- in our early 20s (mid 20s in Wifey's case).

We all married around the same time, and began our careers. D1 was the first child of the group, and D2, Amanda, and Melinda following in 1992. Samantha and Chis followed, and Alana was the 7th of their generation.

Wifey and I have 2 grandsons, Lili and Jeff a granddaughter, and Loni and Mike due to join the GILF club in June.

It's really something to consider -- 3 couples of young friends all grandparents, or nearly so.

That time really does keep flowing like a river...to the sea.

So I'll pour the champagne, with some ginger ale for the teetotaling Jeff, and we'll toast the years of our friendship -- and our love.

D1 and Joey celebrated last night -- at the New Schnitzel House near them -- a place romantic, despite its name. D2 and Jonathan have deemed this year's VD superfluous, as they are spending tons of money on their new house.

But here in Pinecrest, hopefully love will spring still, over and past the decades. El Dia de amor -- pretty, pretty, pretty nice.

Super Bowl Sunday

 Another year passes, and the Dolphins are home for the Big Game. They made it twice while I was in college -- losing both times -- but I sort of figured they'd be there more often. One theory is that their star QB Dan Marino was SO good, he kept them from being bad enough to get good draft picks in the ensuing years. Who knows? All I DO know is I have zero rooting interest today -- other than for good commercials.

I was remembering today how we hosted SB parties in college, and they were epic. One stands out -- SB of 1981 -- Raiders vs. Eagles. We filled our apartment bathtub with ice, and cases of Moosehead beer, and had 3 small black and white TVs set up around for watching.

We packed probably 50 people into that WW II era apartment -- many freshman "Co-eds" as Barry recalls. We're pretty sure that term no longer applies. "They/Them-eds" maybe?

D2 and Jonathan are hosting a SB party in their new house and invited all of us, but I know better than to bring down a millennial party with my old Boomer tuches. Funnily, Wifey is going to be very close to both Ds -- she is driving her friend Ronnie to meet fellow friend Cara at the Miami Shores CC -- a tolerable drive for the now Aventuran Cara.

And I have a single, gentleman caller: Norman. He's coming over to watch -- we'll bring in DiNapoli, and drink, if he wishes. I don't like drinking alone, and will let my man decide -- I told him I have plenty of rye -- his poison -- and beer -- the traditional SB poison.

Man -- those college years seem so in the distant past. Maybe that's because more than FOUR decades have gone by.

I recall another party, the night before the Fins played. There was a silly song out called "Hey Ricky," and we changed the words to "Hey Woodley," the Fins' so-so QB at the time. Then we switched the music to our usual Ramones and smacked the ceiling to "Sheena Is...A Punk Rocker."

Good times, as David Lee Roth sang. Damn good times.

I guess one of the tricks to this old age thing is pushing yourself, and those around you. For example, travel is something I can easily do without. I feel like Johnny Cash: "I've been everywhere, man." and truly no place has any great pull. Rather, I focus on the hassles of modern travel -- even when you fly Business or First.

Luckily, Wifey still has the bug, as do friends. Two weeks from Wednesday, we're to fly to Barbados with Joelle and Kenny, and spend two nights there. We then get on a cruise ship and sail back to Miami. I'm sure it'll be a fine time, but left to my own lazy devices, I'd probably have skipped.

Yesterday Jeff asked if I was going to our Rabbi's 8th of 9 kids Bar Mitzvah. Wifey and I go to weddings, brit milahs, and funerals, but avoid Bar Mitzvahs unless we're VERY close to the child.

Jeff asked why I didn't just go with him, and I told him honestly I don't have patience for that stuff. He asked what I DID have patience for. The answer is precious little.

The good news is that when I'm with my friends, they can feel confident I truly wish to share their company -- no more attending functions out of obligation -- unless there's a subpoena involved, and luckily I don't foresee many of those.

So as for this SB Sunday: go team! And go friendships!

Intimations of Mortality With My Oldest Close Friends

 So last week was a tough one up in Boca. Eric's colleague in Cardiology, who I'll call Jay, since that's his name, dropped of a heart attack. Jay had a "sister practice" to Eric's, was a fit 63 year old, and died suddenly -- after collapsing at home, was taken to Boca Hospital where one of his long time partners had him die in his arms.

Eric attended the funeral on Monday, and reported that his adult son and daughter were devastated, as would our kids, but spoke beautifully about how Jay was about his family and friends first, and THEN his successful career. His daughter has a toddler, and they live close, and spoke about how Jay would come by most evenings, as they were getting ready to put the little girl to bed, and would say: "It's not bed time. It's GRANDPA TIME!" and play and read to the toddler before she went to sleep. His son's wife had his first grandson just last week -- instead of a bris in NY, the son flew down for his Dad's funeral.

I could tell Eric was shocked and moved by this -- how could he NOT be? And then we talked long about the nature of our lives -- and reached the same conclusion. We LOVE our lives -- and want many more years. But we have truly served our purpose -- school, careers, financial security for our families -- hell -- even some "generational wealth" we weren't lucky to receive. Our kids are grown and married to great spouses -- we've met a combined FIVE beautiful grandkids.

Sure -- we hope to be around to watch those grandkids grow, and share more time with those near and dear, but if the Big Man takes us -- well -- we'd have zero regrets.

Last night I met Barry, who was on main campus all day for a quarterly C Suite retreat for his hospital. He learned vital lessons -- like middle management is important, and you have to treat patients like cruise lines treat passengers. 

Afterwards, we talked about Jay, who neither of us met, but feel a kinship with. Barry added to the discussion that if you feel you HAVEN'T fulfilled your dreams, you can't easily accept being taken from this planet.

I shared with him that his former boss and colleague, who I'll call Judy, since that's her real name, called me last week, which she does when she has a legal question. But this time, it was because Barry hadn't gotten back with her -- was he angry with her? I explained to Judy he was not -- just busy -- and I would encourage him to return her texts and emails.

Judy noted how lucky Eric, Barry, and I were -- it was rare for men to keep close friendships for over four decades like we had. I was 1.5 martinis in when I fielded Judy's call, and I told her deadpan that the secret was that we three were closeted gay men, attracted to each other, and the unrequited lust was was sustained our fraternity so long.

I immediately regretted what I said -- Judy is the HEIGHT of wokeness -- she spearheaded many progressive programs when she was Chair. Had I gone too far? Her answer was silence -- followed by some of the loudest laughter I ever heard. Nah -- I cracked her up with my absurdity. If I WAS gay, I think I'd go for  a 20 something Brad Pitt type -- not 60 something Jewish doctors -- not that they're not attractive men for their age.

And that was a key component, too -- the need for laughter.

Yes -- laughter with friends is true manna from above -- and in our time together, Barry, Eric, and I have had more than our fair share.

Our server, who we agreed was a "Ricki type," our friend Mark's first wife, brought the check and we left. I drove Barry to the lot where he had parked -- right by our sacred Building 22 -- the apartment where we lived together nearly 3 years.

And what years those were -- truly coming of age together -- passing from teenager to young men bound for grad school.

We would sit around the formica dining room table there, we three, with other players on that early 80s college stage, and talk and philosophize. What kind of women should we marry. What did we hope to do in our careers? Should we sacrifice money for the good of society? Could we have both? Should we go to Thurmans or D'Pizza for dinner? These were very deep questions.

Paul, my brother and law partner and now a brother to Barry and Eric, too, is 11 years older. He lost his best college friend 2 years ago -- a vital, delightful podiatrist named Frank, who went from enjoying his grandkids, and the fruits of his very hard labor, to hearing he had glioblastoma which took him less than 2 years after that.

One of Paul's closest law school friends, Alan, died before -- of a rare small intestine cancer. Their friendship was more fraught, on account of the fact that Alan, though lovable, was a scoundrel, who lost his law license after his gambling addiction caused him to dip into his trust accounts to pay his debts. OK -- maybe MORE than dip -- he dove deep.

So Paul knows better the loss of these sacred friends. Of the four of us, only one parent survives: Barry's mother Beverly, and she struggles with Parkinson's, needing full time care.

George and Lillian, Hy and Sunny, Marvin and Norma, and Sy are all gone, quite many years now.

We miss them terribly, as I know our kids and grandkids will miss us -- and yet life goes on -- they all served their purposes, too.

D1 often quotes a profound thought, when she talks about the struggles of motherhood to her two gorgeous bear cubs: "The days are so long, and the years are so short."

And so they are -- and we all hope to have many more years.

But rest in peace, Jay the Boca Cardiologist. I never met you but feel you were one of us. May your memory be a blessing. It already is, to those near and dear to you.

Minyan Man

 Religious Jews require that 10 men be present for many important prayers, and my friend Rabbi Yossi is indeed a religious Jew.

Dating back to the early years of our friendship, now going on 30 years, he would call me if they were a fellow short, and if I was free, would drive over to his storefront shul, across from Miami Dade College South, to be the 10th. I called myself the Relief Jew, and it was a nice time for reflection and brotherhood, though the prayers in Hebrew were well beyond my ken.

For many years, my services weren't needed, but lately they are again. Last year, I asked my friend Jeff if he would become a relief prayer-er too, and he agreed. Though Jeff is VERY Reform (the Woody Allen joke is that the rabbi at his congregation is a Nazi), he came along -- mostly because he wanted to properly say kaddish, the prayer for the dead, for his very close cousin Noah, who died very young.

Well, Jeff, or Pinchas as the dudes there call him, on account that it's his Hebrew name, became a regular. In fact, though Yossi asked and received a sizeable pledge from us towards the completion of the new Center, he said bringing Jeff into the fold was more important. I don't know if I truly believe that.

Anyway, today as I was drinking coffee, I got the text -- could I make it? I had no just reason to refuse, and so agreed. I texted Jeff -- I usually drive him over -- but he was already busy with his own congregations "Mitzvah Day." In fact, D1 and her men are due to attend -- they're packing kids for inner city school children,  I believe.

So I drove over on my own.

I chatted with the nice assembled fellows -- a United Nations of Jewish dudes. I met a new guy, from France, along with the usual assortment of Latin Jews. Rabbi Yossi had a young visiting Yeshiva student help me with the tefillin -- his accent was clearly Midwestern US -- Chicago, I guessed correctly.

The prayers were recited, and I followed along as best I could in the English translation. But mostly I lost myself in the reflection of how many thousands of years my forefathers read the same stuff. It is truly powerful.

I said goodbye to Roy, an 80 something fellow I've known since I met Yossi. He's a retired carpenter, who donated a lot of his talents to the shul. He's an original "Miamuh" guy, too -- I always enjoy his courtliness. He remembers the Ds as little girls, and asks after them -- I showed him pictures of the now grown women and the 2 grandsons!

So I figure, like chicken soup for a cold, this going to minyan can't hurt. I asked the Big Man for continued good health for my nearest and dearest. May He grant my prayers.

The balance of Sunday holds little in the way of plans. Wifey is fast asleep. I'll try to get a long walk in before the coming rains. A nap may be in store, probably with a snoring Spaniel on the couch with me.

This week Wifey is headed up to D1's -- she and Joey are taking a stay-cation in Vero Beach, and Wifey and our consuegra Jacqui are taking turns with the grandsons. I'll hold down the dog-fort here -- probably get up to see the Little Man and Baby Man, too.

And, if called upon, will remain a Relief Jew -- Minyan Man...

Happy 32 D2!

 So we had plans -- pregame at D2 and Jonathan's, then to The Palm for dinner. I had to give some paperwork to Paul, and he had asked when I was coming up "north." I told him Friday -- he could meet me at D2's for the exchange, and share a cocktail for her birthday.

He didn't want to crash the party, but of course D2 and Jonathan welcomed him. Some people freak out when someone uninvited shows up -- it happened to Paul years ago. But thankfully not my family -- Paul and Patricia were invited for the whole evening.

They got a tour of the new casa, and loved it. Paul brought 2 bottles of red -- to see if anyone could tell the difference between the disparately priced bottles. Jonathan poured me a fine martini -- Wifey would drive to the restaurant.

D1 and Joey were running late on account of the boys -- but met us minutes after we sat down in the crowded Palm. D2 also suggested the Surf Club, but it was sold out. I was happy it was the Palm -- I love that place -- best steaks in Florida other than Bern's in Tampa, simple sides, well poured cocktails.

The place was buzzing, and Wifey asked if we could move to a quieter section. We could not -- and I was again glad -- the place was so festive. A large lawyer man, Lee came by to say hello. D1 knew his family and several other guests. I used to by the networker around town -- D1 had become me 3.0 -- she knew two other parties there, including the wife of a judge.

I asked Michele how long her husband had been on the bench, figuring he was a rookie I didn't know. "13 years." Yeah -- I'm passed prime -- no idea who the fellow was.

We feasted -- shared a prime rib, two steaks, and a fish -- as well as a multitude of sides. They had the Ds favorite for dessert -- carrot cake -- and the boys night out at the next table joined in the singing. It was that kind of night -- as I sat there, I tried to think of anywhere else in the world I wished to be, and then I saw beaming D2 and realized the answer was a resounding NO!

Today she actually turns 32. We FaceTimed (tm) after I sent her my usual email. She and Jonathan are having friends over tonight for Steve's Pizza -- a venerable North Miami spot just north of the Shores.

Wifey and I talked in bed after I brought her her am coffee, reminiscing about D2's life. She was a tough toddler -- a "hardship," as Wifey said, which has become family lore now.

Wifey said if she just knew how amazing her daughter would turn out, she would have felt less oppressed in those years from 1993-1996. Oh well -- no going back.

I always knew. I have snippets of memory about her when I knew she wasn't the average bear -- like when she took a call from a friend in grade school and said "It's ok -- tell me all about it -- we'll figure out a solution."

One of the FaceBook posts today was from an early friend's Mom. D2 hasn't seen her daughter in over a decade, and the Mom wrote "I was thinking about you, D2, and how I love you and always will."

Yeah -- D2 left and leaves a mark on people.

Our friend, handling her house's renovation, told me she wants to adopt her -- Jonathan, too. I told her Wifey may be open to negotiation -- but don't mess with Jonathan's Mom -- she's the sweetest -- but has a tough side, too...

I wish my precious second daughter many more years of good health and the wonder of life. If she gives us grandkids, in addition to the enormous puppy one -- well, I wouldn't complain about that, either.

Regardless, I love and adore this accomplished young woman. Happy birthday, D2!

Back In The Office

 Nice to make an appearance today, on Brickell, after a several week absence. I stopped on the way at Bagel Emporium and had breakfast, and brought a cinammon bun and black and white cookies for Amanda and Carla. I know what girls like...

I had some mail to go through, and hopefully Stuart will make it in to go over some files. Vince was leaving for lunch as I was coming in -- we can go over stuff, too.

Yesterday was Grandpa Dev Day, after my workout. I fetched the Little Man, and impressed him with a yogurt that had the fruit in a separate chamber in the tub. He found that way cool.

I wanted to take him to visit Tia D2, but she was hosting workers, and thought the Little Man would not help that situation, so we went home, instead, and played in the 'hood.

He is so smart. He uses the pretext of visiting a neighbor's cat to gain cute boy access to their house, where he knows they always keep a tower of chocolate kisses by the door, and he is offered one. Yes -- my grandson is a man after my own heart.

Well, Stu DID make it in, with some morbid news: a cardiologist in Boca, who his friend Steve knows well, dropped dead of a heart attack, at 63.

I texted my group of friends about it, as they already call me "obituary Dave," and sure enough Norman and Eric knew the fellow -- Eric pretty well. He had just become a grandfather the prior weekend -- he will NOT be attending his new grandson's bris.

The Big Man has a way of sending messages. Just last Friday, we were talking on our cocktail Zoom (except for Eric and Dana -- they're among a disturbing number of my friends doing this "Dry January" thing), about the concept of working less as we age.

I am the most fortunate. I was able to ratchet down my hours starting years ago, and miss almost nothing because of work obligations. But my doctor friends, especially, seem kind of stuck with commitments to their careers. For example, one told us any thoughts of planning a vacation with them needed "6 months notice," because of long planned work schedules.

Maybe the poignant loss of a cohort may change that. Poor fellow no longer has schedules months in advance.

Anyway, Wednesday is now typically mah jong day for Wifey. She has been taking lessons, along with our friend Lili, and enjoying it. Joelle and Kenny asked us to dinner, but Wifey was committed to her session, and so I agreed to make a throuple.

I Ubered to Whisk, in South Miami, and met them. Kenny and I had the meat loaf -- it was awesome. It just seemed like a cool, meatloaf kind of night.

I Ubered home, and thought about the doc who dropped who I never met. Eric said he was a truly nice guy. 

I sat outside in the cool, quiet evening, and asked the Big Man to bring peace to his family -- nothing else to do.

Tomorrow night, we're gearing up -- the one day early birthday celebration of D2 -- turning 32 on the Day the Music Died. There'll be a pre game at their new house in the Shores, and then a short drive to The Palm, where D1 and Joey will join us.

Wow. 32. My friend who is renovating D2 and Jonathan's house said she wants to adopt her -- D2 is so smart and charming. Too late -- she belongs to Wifey and me, and of course to Jonathan!

I truly look forward to watching this stage of our kids' lives -- early to mid 30s seems to be when a lot happens -- it did for Wifey and me.

The greatest of riches: time. I plan to savor all of it.