FDOS and Move In at the U

 So yesterday was Miami Dade Public School's First Day of School, or FDOS as I have long called it. Little Man began First grade, while Baby Man had his last day of camp at the synagogue, before beginning Pre K in the same venue next week.

Wifey and I cruised up to Beth Moshe and fetched Baby Man, who regaled us with tales of his recent trip to Disney -- how he and his brother "Saved the Earth" on one of the rides. He is illegally adorable. We took him to D2's house, where he was given snacks by his Tia, and watched some videos, and then D1 and Little Man arrived.

We heard LOTS about his FDOS -- who he sits with, the importance of "not blurting" when you know the answer, which he typically does. It was delightful, and I told Little Man that he got to choose dinner in honor of his FDOS -- he went with Chik-Fil-E, and D1 put in an order for him and his brother and Wifey, since the rest of us were having sushi, which Wifey does not favor.

I took the boys to fetch the sandwiches, and we arrived home where D1 had set out a Ketel and glass for me -- even though I might well have skipped -- the buzz of the FDOS was enough. We ate delicious sushi bowls -- later Jonathan claimed his was "fire." And after a few hours of happy chaos, we left for home, and the quiet of older peoples' lives.

I recalled MY FDOS in First Grade -- I still well recall Mrs. Mills and being one of the smartest kids, but soon learned that Jeff and Debbie might well be smarter. Debbie became, per FaceBook, a kind of strange spinster-type woman -- living alone in NYC and working at NGOs. I hope not, but suspect she may have voted for Mamdani. She wouldn't be the only one.

Man, the school year seemed to last SO long. Now the years fly. Just yesterday we were bringing Little Man home from Jackson Memorial, after a keen watchful eye check by Dr. Barry. And now he's starting real school.

I also see on FB that the kids are moving into UM. The dorms are now all luxe -- as expected of a $100K per year college. We were thrilled with our cracker boxes, as we called the prison-cell like rooms in the 1968 complex. Man -- I felt like a grown ass man -- no more Mom around to do laundry or make my bed.

And I enjoyed a classic college experience -- meeting people VERY unlike the white ethnic NY types I knew -- my first roommate was from Karachi, Pakistan and put down his prayer rug and prayed throught the day. Ahmjed, who I thought called himself Jed, as in "I am Jed" and I introduced him around that way and he was too polite to correct me for weeks.

Dem were great years, until Dad dropped the Summer before my senior year -- but that gave me the most basic life lesson -- everyone dies -- not just people you sort of hear about or aren't very close to.

But now is the time of renewal -- FDOS all around.

Next week we're taking Little Man -- I plan to get tix for the Marlins Friday night -- Harry Potter Night! Wifey is actually coming, too. He's not into Harry Potter yet, but D1 will be thrilled if he converts -- she LOVES HP -- even waiting on line at Shakespeare and Company her Summer studying in Paris for the latest book to come out.

So a chill weekend hopefully awaits. I need to drive over to the Friendship Circle campus -- bought 4 challahs from the latest -- Mitzvah Bakery. They have the special needs folks help out, and use the money for the Center. I bought 4 -- will freeze a few for the Ds.

Tzedekah is essential. Eating challah while doing it? NOW we're talking.

Here's to a great school year for all -- especially our boys. As D1 says, the days are long but the years are short. Little and Baby Men are lucky to have such a smart Mommy...

The Very Energetic Boy Gets A Chill

 What a banner weekend for those of us whose lives revolve around our kids and grandkids. Friday pm Wifey and I fetched Baby Man, and heard about his happy day at camp, and headed to the Miami Shores Theater to see Little Man perform. The kids were terrific -- 4 through high school -- with a dedicated staff. The Director is a British lady who, you can tell, has a dream job. Little Man got his lines spot on, and to Steve Miller's "Abracadabra" danced wonderfully, including a turn with a little girl D1 reports is yet another girlfriend...

From there, we retired to D1's house, and the boys played, and D2 and Betsy joined us, as did Harley, D1's friend who was dog sitting. It occurred to me it was not only 5:00 somewhere, it was 5:00 on a Friday in Miami Shores, and we had some wine and, for me, Ketel, followed by some Uber Eated in Prima Pasta -- successfully keeping it away from Betsy, who lately has been stealing from the boys if they don't pay attention. 

We drove home, with Little Man a font of questions and observations. He IS scary smart -- a true sponge, always seeking more information, and processing beyond his years. I love to playfully tease him -- telling him stuff not true, and he typically catches on very fast -- like when I told him we now had agama lizards (True) that are 5 feet long (not true).

Wifey gave him a bath in our absurdly big tub, which a designer wanted to get rid of on account of it gets little use, and we realized it was great to keep just FOR the grandkids, and then there was snuggle time before bed.

As I expected, Saturday EARLY there was Little Man, reminding me of our tradition of BAFL (bagels at first light) and we left for House of Bagels, where the counter lady, very white but who speaks in Ebonics, greeted him happily -- he's a regular. Alas, the black and white cookies were gone,but he settled for a chocolate chip muffin, which Wifey negotiated with him for part of. When it comes to chocolate, Wifey is a naughty 9 year old girl...

I got us tickets for "Minions v Monsters" at the newly renovated Falls theater -- they did a great job -- now it's one of those luxe places with the airplane business class-type seats, and service. We all loved it, though Little Man will grow up without the experience of waiting in line for popcorn and M and Ms -- they get brought to you now. I told him we took his Mommy and Tia D2 to the theater their entire lives, and when they got older, they went with their friends, or at least they so told us while sneaking off to parties. Great scam -- it worked very well, though I guess now that kids get tracked via their phones, the 90s era scams will have to update.

We offered to take him afterwards to either a cool park, or a pretty new Barnes and Noble, but instead he chose the option of just coming home to chill.

D1 has him in non stop activities -- I think this upcoming semester there is violin camp, padel camp, karate, and maybe another I'm missing. So he knows when he is with us, down time is allowed, and he seems to really savor it.

Last night, after some nature videos Wifey found, it was time for another epic bath, and then sleep -- up early again today. He had saved one half of his chocolate chip bagel for today, and wanted it. Rookie move, I reminded him -- Wifey found the bagel half last night and it was no more. He settled for a plain bagel instead, reminding me "Grandpa -- we really DO have to hide chocolate from Ippi -- she eats ALL of it!"

We left for a meeting place at El Carajo -- the gas station on SW 17th Ave which has great food, and we reunited with Baby Man. The boys are off to Disney with their Dad today -- 3 nights before school begins Thursday.

As I hoped, after a stop at Walgreens to fetch some meds (I waited behind a painfully annoying older Cubana who had LOTS of questions about her Medicare Plus plan), I came home to a quiet house. One Wifey and one ancient, mostly sedentary Spaniel. We watched the final Larry David episode, and concluded, "Eh."

But tonight is MY latest show -- The Westies -- though Wifey finds it hard to follow. But soon the Fall will be upon us -- football, and the return of "Your Friends and Neighbors" and "Landman," which Wifey and I both really dig.

I think this week brings a Marlins game -- Norman and I are planning on Tuesday night -- Barry and Josh have been invited but tend to let us know right before -- I know the Pirates on a Tuesday night in early August won't be a hard ticket to score.

And maybe next weekend, we get to hear all about Little Man's first days of First Grade. We really dig those boys, and are thankful we only need to watch them part time...

Zoom Armpit Sniffing

 My trainer Jonathan and I have gotten very close -- we enjoy our twice weekly hourly sessions immensely. I am inherently lazy -- but for meeting him -- I would NOT do the balance and strength exercises crucial to keeping me mostly upright. Hell -- the other day I even showed off: I can balance on one foot for a LONG time, which, I have read, is an indicator that I'm less likely to drop like a sack of potatoes...

The sessions fly by, and I always remind him of the sage words of my Organic Chem professor Harry P Schultz: We are ALL students in the study of human nature. This weekend is a big one for Jonathan -- his girlfriend Lesley is moving in with him, and Jonathan has been peppering me with questions about making this thing work from a dude who approached 40 years of marriage to the same, quirky woman.

I told him the most sage advice came from the write Jack Nicholson played -- a writer of romantic books praised for how well he "thought like a woman." When asked his secret, he said he applied logic and common sense to a given situation, and then completely turned it around -- ending up with the spot on woman's perspective. Jonathan is a fine pupil -- he will get it and live happily, I predict.

And, since, like the Styx song, I've got too much time on my hands, I have the luxury of analyzing and thinking about things that matter little. This week, that was an aborted Zoom meeting with my cousin Russ. We connected last week, and spoke for the better part of an hour. Unlike the majority of my first cousins, who I have no desire to spend time with, Russ seemed to be in a very similar place: well off retired guy, living in SoCal, fraught relationships with his other family members, adult kids (though no grandkids for him and his second wife). We really hit it off, even though, far as we could recall, we last were together in person in 1981.

Wifey and I get lots of requests to socialize. Years ago, our friends Susan and Steve told us we were "an IT couple" --cohorts in Pinecrest thought we were WAY cool to hang with, and when we had dinners with Steve and Susan, they were "honored." Ha -- hardly -- and we enjoyed our times with them, but Susan sadly died last year while visiting grandkids in Texas. She actually got flown back to Miami and died here, but whatever caused her death started in Dallas.

I nicely reject most invites -- lovely neighbors, for example, and Wifey is even MORE explicit -- she has let drop LOTS of old friendships on account of she no longer has the energy. She truly cares about ONE friend, and has mah johnng buddies, and comes along with me with my dear friends and their spouses -- but her formal social butterfly self has lost her wings.

So it was unusual that I actually made an effort to spend more time, albeit virtually, with Russ. I suggested a Zoom cocktail, since I had no plans to travel to SoCal nor he to SoFla. He eagerly accepted -- maybe last Monday? No -- he texted -- plans -- but would definitely text Tuesday to confirm Wednesday -- assuming his wife had no jury duty. I have him the text thumbs up.

And then yesterday I realized I had been ghosted. I sniffed my armpits -- did I have BO? Wait -- you can't smell that through Zoom, can you?

It's funny -- he had told me how he was estranged from his brother Gary -- Gary was "selfish and rude" and they haven't spoken in years. A HA! Maybe it was Russ who was that way!

Again -- my life will be fine without the reconnect after more than 4 decades -- but it's strange how he seemed so eager to catch up and compare first cousin notes about our lives. That's ok.

Once again, the adage proves true: friend's are G-d's compensation for family. And so it was last evening -- Barry and Scott and I FaceTimed over a few adult beverages. I had told them I was out of pocket tonight, our usual Zoom, since Wifey and I are fetching Little Man after his gender fluid theater camp performance, and will likely be with D2 after the show.

Scott was supposed to leave for Boston, but his flight was canceled -- he and Sam are off this am for, as I reminded him, a Manilow "Weekend in New England." I decided last night was besheret booze. Scott loved that. I reminded the young journalist you never go wrong with alliteration.

So adios cousin Russ. You now join all my others in the dustbin of my family history. Eric recently flew up to Jersey to photograph his neice's bridal shower. Jeff flew to SF to hang with HIS cousin before the older fellow went in for a bone marrow transplant. In MY case, the Big Man decided that I don't even get a Zoom cocktail reunion with mine.

And that's just fine. Three weeks ago yesterday, all those truly sacred to me gathered for my 65th, to help me honor Hashem with giving me 65 years of a comically amazing life. Not a cousin was within hundreds of miles. Well, not true -- Jeff lives in Broward -- that's less than 100 miles. When I have a bad event -- ain't reaching out to anyone other than who was there 7/18. When I am given reason to kvell -- same thing -- those peeps share in it -- everyone else hears second or third hand.

I guess I also have to be thankful I'm not a Democrat in Maine. The guy who replaced the rapey Nazi Platner had kids with his second cousin. Yuck. Just as well I have Zoom connected stinky armpits...

Political Incorrectness

 So part of being a dinosaur is totally not getting this new era we're in, where everyone is offended. I just read a news story that Miss North Carolina was stripped of her title for using the N word -- and she's a woman of color herself! On our Canes chat, one that would derail the career aspirations of some of us if we tried to become federal judges ( I guess that's no longer so, at least under the GOP presently), one of us noted that "Given the way she looks, a title is the last thing that should be stripped from her."

The story brought me back to MY childhood in white, ethnic New York. My friend Michael, my oldest buddy, was from a mixed marriage: Italian Mom and Irish Dad. Mrs. M was an awesome cook -- I NEVER refused an invite to "eat over." My Mom, of blessed memory, cooked every night, but one of 4 things -- none of which tasted like Mrs. M's stuff. Mr. M was, wait for it, a NYC fireman and prodigious drinker, who spent afternoons off at the local Pin Up Bar (acronym cleverly PUB). Mike and I would be tasked with fetching Mr. M for dinner, and he would always say "Hey guys -- say hi to my boy Mikey and his Jew friend Dave!" The firemen would chuckle, ask if my Dad was a doctor or lawyer, and I would say "Nah -- just a salesman" and that was that. Was I offended or hurt? 

Of course not -- we all used identities like that. Fitz the Mick. Mark the Swede. Joe the WOP, etc...I guess you can't do that no more.

But speaking of Long Island...I saw some terrific news yesterday. My buddy John Nixon, who I've known since high school, finally has a date for the airing of the TV series based on his book about the capture and interrogation of Saddam Hussein. The book was "Debriefing the President" and the show is called "High Value Target." TNT is showing it early September, and I plan to host a watch party.

Back in 2011, a bunch of buddies and I went up to D.C. to watch the Canes opener at Maryland, and I hosted a dinner at The Palm and invited John. It was a banner night -- much better than the game the next day which the Canes lost in Al Golden's coaching debut. John regaled us with his stories of Baghdad, and Hussein, and how he was writing a book about the experiences.

He did, and mentioned Norman, Mike, and me and our dinner in the acknowledgments. The book did great, and a movie, later series, was to be made, but Covid delayed everything. Finally Joel Kinnaman got involved -- producing and playing John, and the show got made with Cairo filling in for Baghdad.

John made a princely sum, which he needs badly -- his wife Barbara is badly disabled from MS and John is a dutiful husband and caregiver.

But I am SO proud of him -- he and my friend Kenny both had great careers of service to the US -- Kenny as a flight surgeon during the Gulf War, aboard the Saratoga, and John with "The Company" as they call the CIA. And now he's going to be truly famous for what he did.

I already joked with him that the movie star handsome Kinnaman isn't really good enough to play him -- should have been, oh, I don't even know the young actors anymore.

But I celebrate when my friends soar -- schadenfreude is for others -- and his is a gleaming moment for a guy I still remember in my basement putting together a play about Apollo astronauts for our First Grade Class -- my Mom dutifully trying to write down our scripts.

So not bad for my Irish Catholic buddy John. The Italians and Jews are SO proud of him...

Dinosaur

 So yesterday was chock full of errands, and later on the realization that I am, truly, a dinosaur.

First, I had to get some legal papers witnessed and notarized, and fortunately recalled a friend had recently taken a job as a legal secretary nearby -- so I took the papers over to her office, and got it done. I had been by the Marcus Building, on SW 77 Ave, for years, but never inside. It's not what one would call Class A office space, but mission accomplished and then...a wait for a monsoon rain to pass.

From there, it was over to First Horizon Bank, to order some checks. I still had Gibraltar Bank ones left over, their last incarnation, and was running out. The cheerful teller told me that I was a "Premium Checking" client, so the 120 checks cost only...$80! I didn't have the energy to see an officer to get the charge stricken, and when I asked the teller about a toaster, he looked at me like a Gen Z guy who had zero idea banks used to give out toasters for new accounts. Now they charge you nearly $1 for every piece of paper you use...

I came home, and I had some legal work: finding a lawyer in Hawaii for a friend who was tripped, accidentally, by a tour guide and broke her shoulder. A quick search showed that Morgan and Morgan was in Hawaii -- I called the number, and got a "case intake specialist" NOT in Hawaii. No, I explained to the person, I needed to talk lawyer to lawyer, as I was referring a case and needed to work out the terms, so that I could remit the fee savings to my friend. 

The clerk basically went all HAL on me: "I'm sorry -- I can't DO that, Dave." Fine. I hung up and recalled I knew a senior partner at that intergalactic firm in Atlanta. I called the 404 number. Same thing! They wouldn't connect me with Greg! First -- they wanted all the information about MY accident.

I tried another tack. No case -- I just needed to speak to Greg. No dice. First tell me about the case. This person, despite the ATL number, was not even IN ATL. Screw it -- I abandoned that firm.

The next on the list was a 10 person firm -- AI wouldn't let me past telling my tale either. I hung up, annoyed. When Paul and I were in active practice, the thought we might miss a big case was our biggest fear. Apparently these days it isn't.

I finally got a human secretary, and she took the information -- but today sent a letter saying that their office was flooded out and they weren't taking new cases. But Pam, the paralegal, was nice, and referred me to a smaller firm. I checked out their web page -- all 3 lawyers dressed in Hawaiian shirts! One guy, the senior partner, looks like Big Daddy Flanagan, the famous local pub owner who died years ago. I hope he's the one who calls me back.

Yes -- times have changed.

Meanwhile, the documents I had Uber Couriered to Hollywood have a scrivener's error -- the page where the mortgage was recorded was 592,  but the firm typed it as 529. So I'm guessing I'll have to sign, have witnessed, and notarized an entirely NEW document -- this time Wifey may actually have to leave the house to go with me to do it. The horror.

Everything is daunting. I guess that was true of actual dinosaurs -- back in the day.

Checkout Day At The Hotel For Dogs

 I love dogs -- I truly do. And yet, if I had my way, once the Special Needs Spaniel Bo crosses the Rainbow Bridge, I would be done getting any new dogs. Wifey tells me this is non negotiable -- our house will always have "at least one, preferably two, dogs."

I try to point out that she rarely comes downstairs before 10:30 or 11 am each day, so her idea of having a dog is really having ME take care of her dog, and I'm kind of over it. I am happy to be the sitter for grand dogs. Alas, I shall lose this marital issue, I fear -- may Bo long continue to nap on our sofa.

So Betsy, the enormous puppy, came home with us nearly a fortnight ago, so D2 and Jonathan could enjoy a trip to Portugal. She weighs north of 105 -- probably more now with the daily Publix chicken I give her with her kibble, and she is not, as Wifey would say, a background dog. She is always underfoot, or plopping down next to me -- she is truly delightful -- but the time has come for her to return to Miami Shores -- D2 and Jonathan returned safely last evening.

We shall meet them at a cool, LA import Italian place this evening, Jon and Vinny's, and I plan to have a martini or two with my son in law and share some great casual Italian whilst hearing all about their trip. Wifey and I are headed to Portugal in December -- the ending port of a cruise from Barcelona with Barry and Donna -- D2 and Jonathan already warned us about Lisbon -- lots of hills -- maybe we "elders" should hire a guide with a golf cart, as they observed. We probably will...

And D1 entrusted us with her Skittish Spaniel Lemon last week -- she is now north of Knoxville on a lake vacation. Lemon is portable, when you can corner him -- and he sleeps in the crate with Bo, so not a midnight tripping hazard on our bedroom floor like Betsy is.

The plan is to return Lemon Friday when we travel up to see Little Man's theater camp show -- as his mother suspected -- he is LOVING it. We fetched him there last week, at the Miami Shores theater, and he regaled us with excited tales -- and a purely modern one. "Grandpa Dave -- you won't believe this: my counselor is a girl, with a boy's haircut, and told us she feels like a boy!" D1 tried to politically correctly explain gender identity to him -- but his precocious 6.5 year old self seemed confused -- saying you were either born a boy or girl, right?

I look forward to watching him and Baby Man and ALL the younguns navigate this brave new world. When the grandsons are old enough to drink, I plan on admitting to them that most of my guy friends and I sort of wished we could have stomached the sex part of being gay men -- life would have been so much simpler. Their Mom will be horrified...but the joy of being an old guy is you get away with more stuff.

So our hotel for dogs will, later this evening, be down to the usual resident and one additional Spaniel. Pretty easy for this canine innkeeper.

Cousin Connect

 So I was up early doing errands today. First I did my laundry, which Wifey and my friends find hilarious -- since we have a housekeeper. But years ago I realized she was ruining my stuff with bleach and all, and I kind of like the sense of completeness of tasks like laundry, so everything goes in the same load, and then the shirts get hung up to dry while other stuff goes in the dryer, and later that am -- presto!

I then left to get a pedicure, a hobby the Ds caused me to have doing "Daddy/Daughter Pedis" which I have now adopted -- typically I'm the only fellow in the chairs, next to Palmetto High girls or the many Ladies Who Lunch and Pedicure of Pinecrest. Today the lady pinched me, and I said "Ow" and she said sorry before hurriedly returning to her Vietnamese conversations with co-workers. I shall survive.

From there it was up Sunniland to Walgreens, and while waiting in line, saw an email from my cousin Russel. I had messaged him last month about the death of our mutual cousin Steven, and never heard. The email explained he rarely checked his FB Messenger, but thanks for letting him know, and a nice summary of his now retired Southern Cal life, and could we set up a time to actually speak?

I made a quick run to Batteries Plus, one of my favorite stores since they always have the unusual battery or bulb I need, and sure enough, got the front doorbell one I needed. In the mean time, Dr.Rigo's office called to say my blood work looked suspiciously good for a fat old man, so I was happy about that, and I asked about getting Hep A and B vaxxes. Did I plan travel? I did -- 2 trips to Europe, with a stop in Northern Africa (Morocco). Yes -- get the Hep, so I made an App appointment to return to Walgreens at 1250, and then called Russ.

We spoke for an hour. I told him I would be married 40 years this January, and he said last time we saw each other, in 1981 in the Grove, he met her. Nope -- I met Wifey in '83 -- that was my college girlfriend Silvia, who broke up with me thinking I would end up some broke ass English teacher. Some folks at the track handicap the horses better than others...

But we caught up nicely. The woman HE was with that day at Monty Trainers ended up being his first wife, with whom he had a son, now 41, and a daughter, now 45. But the marriage soured on account of she was nuts, and he's been happily married to Linda for 20 years now. He just retired from a corporate career, and from his subtle references about places he visits and gold courses he plays in SoCal I could tell he had done quite well.

We compared notes on kids. No grandkids seem to be coming for him -- his daughter in law had a miscarriage and is now too old to try again, and his daughter is a total career woman with zero desire to marry, let alone have kids.

He told me he's totally estranged from his younger brother Gary, though still close with his half brother Adam -- Adam and Gary are both retired Broward teachers now living in South Carolina. Apparently Gary is selfish and wants little to do with his siblings. Hey -- it happens.

Russ is a proud Gator and LOVES that this Cane has 2 Gator Ds and a Gator son in law. He is still a huge Fins fan, too, since he moved here the year before the Perfect Season.

We enjoyed our reunion so much -- he asked if I got to SoCal, and I told him I was there for a friend's wedding a few years back, but had no plans to return. He was last in SoFla when his Mom and stepdad were alive, and now there is nothing to bring him here.

So I asked -- did he drink? Hell yeah -- bourbon. I told him I stayed closer to our ethnic roots --I was a vodka man. I asked whether he would enjoy a Zoom cocktail meet -- our wives would finally meet, and we would each meet them. He loved the idea -- we have a tentative one set for Monday at 7 pm my time, so that he can have his cocktail at 4.

He adored my parents. I really dug his Dad and Mom, though Harry died when I was probably 8 or 9.

Still, talking to him it was clear we had lots in common -- I look forward to sharing some more tales of our lives.

On my Mom's side, my cousin Jeff asked me to set up a meeting with him and Lynn. Eh. We'll see -- if he reaches out for it, fine, but my laziness prevents me from taking the lead.

Plus -- Zoom is the way to go. Ain't none of us pretty enough to require meeting in person no more -- Zoom allows L'chaims and conversation.

That should be enough of a connection.