Debbie Downer Meets Negative Nancy

 So I awoke early this am to see a really yuuuge (as Wifey pronounces it) local story: the best billionaire we've ever had, Ken Griffin, gave the largest gift in history to a university: $3 BILLION to Carnegie Mellon. The previous record was a paltry $2B from Phil Knight to his alma mater Oregon. $2B B of the gift is to build a local campus of CM in Wynwood -- construction to start next year, and enrollment in 2028. CM is very prestigious -- some of its undergrad programs more highly rated than the Ivies, and a campus like that so close to Downtown will be a gamechanger.

Griffin has donated millions like so many nickels and dimes -- UM, Baptist Health, Nicklaus Childrens, Museums, Schools -- you name it. He moved his company here after complaining to the Chicago government that his employees kept getting mugged. They laughed at him. Well, he took his large ball and went elsewhere, and Miami has benefited immensely.

I don't know Griffin. The closest connection was a few years back -- a young couple was house hunting here -- the husband was on Griffin's team. I chatted with him about the 'hood, and our public schools, which was tone deaf of me -- the higher ups all send the kids to Ransom and Gulliver using spots Griffin bought for them. The house they were looking at was listed for $2.5M. Ha! Schlepper-ville -- they went far more upscale than our little schtetl.

And good for them. I love to see people soar. So many love to see people crash -- filled with envy for the very successful. I used to understand that. When Wifey and I bought our first house, for $86.5K, I remember going to the Grove one Saturday, and seeing a specialized Ferrari. A buddy I was with, who knew cars, said that it cost well over $100K. I was scandalized! How could anyone buy a car worth more than my house! Who would NEED such a vehicle? Yeah -- I was a typical socialistic thinking idiot.

Now when I see a truly exotic car, which I probably COULD afford, I joke to Wifey: "Wow -- if I had it MY way, I would drive a car like that instead of my Buick SUV!" She rolls her eyes. Truth is, I have zero desire for a high end vehicle -- but I applaud the guy who bought it!

I had a chat the other day with a family member who still sees things the way I did at 25. She said billionaires should be killed. I reminded her she was due for a 6 figure inheritance, and to a truly poor neighbor, she might as well be a billionaire -- should SHE be despised for her good fortune? "I guess not."

The article in the Herald had some negative comments about the coming campus -- satellite schools are frauds, Miami is "culturally broken." For bringing in a world class center or learning and research?

Yes, I have learned one truth in life: losers are better at a single thing than winners: blaming others and the "unfair world" for their low stations. They are also good at seeing themselves somehow above the fray in the quest for filthy lucre. They're too artistic. Too cool. Too concerned with the issues of the world.

Yeah, whatever. Send us MORE Ken Griffins to make life better for everyone here. I hope his company Citadel continues to soar. I couldn't care less about his politics, which unsurprisingly lean Right. 

The other day our neighbor Elizabeth left her driveway with the usual rumble of her high powered Corvette. She's my age and told me the bright red car was her "mid life crisis" gift to herself. She stopped and we chatted above the engine's sounds. She was wearing shades, and I told her she looked like she was making an MTV video from the 80s. Turns out a woman in her 60s likes to hear that.

As she drove away, I was so happy for her -- she and Bob worked hard, raised their 3 kids, and now are blessed with 2 grandkids, born a month apart to their daughter and daughter in law. And she's out looking fine, and feeling fine. Good for her!

I joked the only downside to the new campus was the loss of the Wynwood food trucks. I'm sure they'll still have them. And the site, Mana Wynwood, was where my buddy Norman put on a tux some years back and acted as ring announcer for some boxing matches there. It was a great night. I rented a limo, and took several friends. Afterwards we went to dinner at the Italian place on the roof of Club Elevenn, which came with admission to the upscale gentleman's club. Our friend Diane's then boyfriend John, a blue collar Boston guy who had made it big in construction, was gobsmacked by Elevenn. "I'm a Vietnam Vet and Southie, but have NEVER been to such a place." Yes -- memorable night.

So great news for my beloved city, and I am proud and happy about it. As for the naysayers, I always think of the sage words of the Irish poet Brendan Behan. He hit it big in America, and went back to Dublin, where his favorite pubkeeper told him some of the locals begrudged him all of his success. As the true wordsmith he was, he had a classic response: "Fuck the begrudgers!" Amen.

Gringo Democrats

 So we've had a busy weekend here in the 305. Thursday we fetched the boys at their schools and enjoyed an evening with them at D2 and Jonathan's house. Friday there was a fun Zoom with Dr. Barry, and Saturday I overcame inertia and drove to Joe Robbie for the Canes.

The game was a laugher -- Canes dominated Central Michigan -- but it was nice to tailgate with Norman and his boy and bros, and then catch up with old friends at halftime at the Club. I was home to watch the final minutes on TV.

Sunday we drove to D1's house on our way to Paul's birthday dinner, which was called for a place called Alma at Gulfstream. Jonathan was at a corporate box at the Fins game, but D2 joined us for a non- child visit. Turned out - Alma was closed, and we were re-directed to Fuego in NMB, but on the way, Paul called and said Fuego opened too late on account of Succot, and to come to the Williams Island Grille instead -- and to call Donna and Barry to let them know. A text came in from Danielle and Alex, which I assumed was just a confirmation of the re-locate to the Grille, but Donna read it. No Grille after all!

We all finally mustered at Abbale, a "Tel-Avivian" restaurant hard next to the Aventura Mall, and it was terrific -- Paul's son and daughter in law and their 3 kids, Barry and Donna, Patricia, Wifey, and me. Paul turned 76 -- but, alas, there were no trombones at his big dinner.

Yesterday the fun (and alcohol) continued. Shannon Del Prado, our new mayor, invited Wifey and me to Captain's Tavern for a thank you to her supporters. Wifey declined on account of she didn't want to go, but I drove to the Tavern recalling they were closed on Mondays. They WERE, but opened for the private event -- probably 60 gringo Democrats enjoying an amazing spread of seafood and lamb chops and open bar.

I chatted with some old lawyer acquaintances, and Cindy, a former Pinecrest Commish, whose brother lives across the street from us. She reminded me her daughter Kate, who lives in the Shores, is friends with D1 -- the kids often get together to play.

My law school classmate Dave's older brother James was there, and we had a great talk. James was a special agent for the FBI, and then to law school where he was a federal prosecutor before going into private practice. He is CONVINCED the Dems are winning control of Congress and the Senate in November and that Trump WILL be impeached and indicted. I guess we'll find out sooner than later.

I told him I agreed that our local congress seat was going blue again -- the incumbent, a Trumper, abandoned him on account of his deporting her family, and she is now as lonely as Elian was in the inner tube. Interesting politics ahead.

The rest of the week is mostly chill. FRiday we grab Little Man for the evening -- to be returned Saturday before a 3 pm activity. That actually works out well as the Canes play at 730 pm, so I can watch the game -- biggest so far this season.

And somehow, the final quarter of 2026 is nearly upon us. The cliche is the years moving faster and faster, and this one sure has. Today we got an invite to a new event, the "Devonwood Holiday Cookie Bake" at our neighbor Melissa and Dave's house. Alas, we are leaving the day of the event for Spain, and so will miss it.

The plan is to bring in Wifey's birthday a few days early on a luxe cruise with Donna and Barry --their first trip to Europe! I also joke that it celebrate's "Wifey's 40 th anniversary," to which she asks, on cue, "MY anniversary?" Well, you know -- the wedding thing sort of WAS her idea...

But before then, we get to see the boys for Halloween, hopefully, D1 is hosting her British friends and their kids -- first Halloween for them. We'll probably leave a bowl of candy out front near the Frankenstein monster soft sculpture that is as old as D1.

But my favorite looms next: T Day. Les the Caterer is available, and we shall feast and celebrate D1's 38th!!!! How did THAT happen?

But the best part of the Miami year is starting soon -- the humidity is even bearable. I plan to savor that on the walks...

Bad News On The Newsfeed

 So Monday night, after I indeed fasted, Wifey and I watched an installment of my friend's series about Saddam Hussein. Another episode followed, but I was tired and decided to go upstairs and watch in bed. First I stopped by the office desktop to check the status of my notary stamp (it came yesterday). And I saw awful news: former Fox News producer Jennifer Eckhart had killed herself on Saturday.

We knew her well. Wifey's good friend Diane was VERY close with Cindy, Jen's mother, and years ago we  socialized together. Jen was a college freshman at Auburn, transferring into UF, and was bubbly and excited about her career as a journalist. Cindy and her husband Jim moved to Martin County, and Jen got a series of better and better jobs -- ending up at Fox as a producer for major reporters.

I used to take jabs at Fox on her FaceBook (tm ) page until she called me one day, laughing, and told me that while my comments were hilarious -- cut it out! It was her JOB. Well -- turned out her boss Ed Henry was dipping in the company ink. Jen reported him after a 5 year relationship. Fox fired Henry and Jen sued -- 5 years later she settled with Henry, her case against Fox was dismissed, but the money was big enough to let her buy a luxe condo in Hobe Sound and start a podcast. She seemed on top of the world.

I saw some of her work -- interviewing Billy Corgan, and a Navy Seal -- all about turning trauma into a positive. She attended, in the words of the Eagles, "all the right parties." She had a handsome, finance bro boyfriend. She seemed on top of the world.

Apparently, though, there was a becoming undun, as the Guess Who sang. She got arrested for Domestic Violence against the boyfriend when he split from her. She had several Baker Acts. And then, per the accounts, on Saturday Cindy found her in her master bathtub -- she had used a knife to end things. I recalled Frankie Five Angels in II. Awful.

Wifey called Diane -- she hadn't heard. She and Cindy hadn't spoken in years -- a breakup over a design build job at Diane's Grove condo. But we were all sickened. How does a Mom come back from that? I have zero idea.

I emailed Barry about it, and he suggested a FaceTime (tm) cocktail last night. It affirmed for us a most odious character flaw we have: perspective. Whatever our silly problems -- well -- not a hill of beans. Unfortunately, many of our loved ones who want sympathy sometimes find us cold. I guess it's something to work on in the new Jewish new year.

Meanwhile, early today I saw one of my TWO eye docs -- the one who lasered shut a retinal hole. All looked great, but he said I was probably a year from needing cataract surgery. What??? That's old people stuff! The young eye doc, who I've known since he was in high school, and whose Mom took care of D1 for gut issues, will be the one to do it. I guess I'll put it off until the night driving truly becomes a chore -- then it will be time.

Again -- a gnat of a problem. Barry and I agreed we flirted with the idea of skipping Saturday's Canes game in lieu of our comfortable sofas -- Wifey declined her invite, and I kind of don't like the 90 minute round trip drive solo. But Barry pointed out -- we could well become like Howard Hughes -- hermits in our nice digs.

I shared that with D2, and she said "Who is Howard Hughes?" Oh man -- we ARE dinosaurs...

May young Jen's memory be a blessing. I texted Cindy -- I don't expect a response -- but just wanted to tell her we were thinking of her. Yeah -- probably a good idea to avoid the news...

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

 So today I am spending Yom Kippur NOT in shul, as the Sages would prefer, but at least by fasting and reflecting. I am abstaining from food to hopefully connect with my soul, and higher powers. And I am asking forgiveness.

It's funny -- so many find apologizing to be near impossible. I received an email today which PURPORTS to apologize, but doesn't -- it has disclaimers -- "but..."

A true apology is "I''m sorry I did what I did, or said what I said, and I hope you forgive me." And apology is not "I'm sorry -- BUT YOU WERE AT FAULT, TOO." That's not an apology -- that's an explanation or justification -- why bother?

But today I truly have said  I was sorry. I followed another tradition -- took some bread to my pond and cast the crumbs into the water -- casting away my sins. The fish and turtles, turns out, really LIKE that tradition.

Wifey found an online service from NYC's Central Synagogue. It is SO Reform! The rabbi spoke about anti-semitism, but mostly the kind that comes from the Right. I chuckled -- clearly he didn't read or listen to Alan Dershowitz, who explains that Jew hatred from the Right is TODAY -- and no young people listen to Tucker Carlson.

But from the Left, it comes from academics -- the teachers of our future leaders, who are indoctrinated into thinking Israel is evil, and while wearing blackfact is unacceptably offensive, wearing Shylock face, like the fake rapper did -- well -- no big deal.

The Central guy sang "This Land Is Your Land." The Seeger song is great -- I sang it as a kid in East Broadway chorus. Who knew it was part of the Yom Kippur service?

Well -- it's nearly 2 pm. Sunset is after 7. I think I may UberEats in Takee Outee to break the fast. I look forward to regaining eating -- a major joy of the flesh -- and let the spiritual side of things rejoin the physical.

I had my first talk with someone I had hardened my heart to, on account of the person is such an abject idiot. This talk -- just listening -- no correcting -- no matter how absurd the words.

Years ago, when Wifey and I had great strife over the absurd demand by my suegros that I give them money for a condo "on de vater," the strife ended with a session with Wifey's therapist, Arlene. She agreed I was totally in the right -- how dare my inlaws make this absurd demand? But, to buy them the condo, knowing it would someday come back to their only child, would be amazingly KIND.

The lesson was it was more important to be kind than right. And so we bought them the condo -- and I noticed my suegra NEVER even looked out at the lake -- she kept the storm shutters pulled down all the time. But it brought peace to Wifey -- the kindness worked.

I guess that is a major YK lesson.

I ask the Big Man to inscribe us into the Book of Life. Turns out -- this life thing is pretty exquisite.

Back In The Chai Life

 So after a day "just for me" today there is some action. My late Mom used to say that all the time -- to our great amusement. She was a retired widow for years, but would still say "tomorrow is JUST for me." We used to ask her exactly what days WEREN'T for her -- she could do whatever she wished. But she enjoyed having the sense that she had obligations -- she indeed volunteered at Delray Hospital each Friday -- amassed thousands of hours. It still cracked us up.

Young Chris bought his Dad Mike and me birthday tickets for tonight -- John Fogarty with opening act Steve Winwood. I've seen Fogarty three times, and so am actually more excited about the former prodigy from Spencer Davis Group to Traffic to Blind Faith to an amazing solo career. His "Back in the High Life" came out in 1986, when I graduated Law School and was about to marry Wifey. We would often dance to it in our tiny first house, playing over our then new technology CD player.

Norman had bought tix for him and son Benji, and we were all going to meet at Anthony's Runway 84, but Norman realized tonight was Kol Nidre, erev Yom Kippur, and so ditched his tix. He is a better Jew than I.

I thought about it, realized I wasn't going to services anyway, and so will have my last food and delicious trayf before sunset, and then do my reflecting and disavowances while listening to the musicians. I hope the Big Man understands.

I will give silly Jewish themed names to the songs played. Back in the Chai Life. Can't Find My Way Back to Shul. Fortunate Yid. Proud Yossi. I will keep these to myself, even though we learned, to our great humor and amazement, that Chris is halachically Jewish -- his maternal grandmother never told anyone she was the daughter of Polish Jews who fled the Nazis and wanted no further tensosity in life. Marcia is still alive, 90, and probably being sent back to Miami from Atlanta.

Mike's BFFs are mostly Jews, too, and Chris married Rachel -- we're going to the Baby Naming for their new daughter in a few months.

I don't suspect Fogarty or Winwood will annoy us with any Palestinian bullshit. Pretty sure Winwood tends to the Conservative, and Fogarty is too savvy to make enemies. Just a great American and British songbook hopefully awaits us -- bellies filled with best red sauce Italian South of South Philly...

And then tomorrow I plan to observe YK -- probably online services, and hearing the shofar blow after sunset. Wifey and I were invited to a few break fasts, but are taking pasadenas. We'll either Uber Eats in or go to a local place,

I really DO have stuff to work on in the new year. I continually annoy myself when I am "authentic" with some folks who completely can't handle it -- and there is zero reason to continue that. So, as much as I may hear complete nonsense -- my goal is to cheerlead and be nice and a sounding board -- no more exasperation with the less than sophisticated.

Also -- kinder. That never hurts, though as I become older, crankiness creeps into my soul. Gotta keep it at bay.

But one thing I won't change is my jealousy and protectiveness of my greatest richness: my time. I may have plenty of money, but each day I have less time, and to quote the Brothers Allman, my goal is to live by "Ain't Wastin' Time No More."

Doing nothing -- surfing the internet or sitting by my pond, on my terms, isn't wasting time. Sharing my time with idiots is -- I plan to cut down on that.

So the ultimate atoning and stock taking for my People begins tonight. I plan to take it to heart, even in my extra shul way.

Remembrance Of Things Past

 For me, madeleine cookies don't trigger memories -- it is often Canes football games. Mike and Jeannine just texted from the 305 and 407 -- they're on their way to catch flights (Chris is going with Mike) to RDU and then rental cars to Winston-Salem for tonight's Canes game at Wake Forrest. It recalled for me a lovely college tour trip we took -- now close to a decade ago.

Amanda and D2 were juniors, and thinking about college in either UNC or Duke. I think I came up with the fine idea of a college tour trip "coincidentally" while the Canes were playing at Duke. I mean...why not?

We flew to RDU and toured the 2 campuses. It's funny -- D2 and I preferred UNC -- less douchy than the "hotter" private school. Probably part of the charm was our tour guide -- a flamboyant Theater Major who made references to shows the girls loved. The things that you recall from campus tours...

That night, we visited an icon in Raleigh -- the 42nd Street Oyster Bar. It was sort of their Joe's Stone Crab, but much cheaper and accessible. The waitress saw our Canes swag and told us her son was coming to Miami to play for the Canes basketball team. Julian Gamble had a serviceable career at Coral Gables, as I recall..

The Canes dominated Duke the next day, as I recall, and we flew home happy. I think D2 got waitlisted at UNC, but jumped off the list when she got into UF -- truly her first choice. Amanda opted to put more distance between herself and doting parents -- she went to USC and still lives in LA. We went out a few years back for her wedding to Daniel. I have a feeling that, like so many ex-pat Miamians, Amanda will make her way back East -- probably if she is blessed with babies...

Turned out UF was very good to D2. She kicked butt academically -- first in our family to make Phi Beta Kappa, which she still jokes was a bigger deal to me than it was to her. She is incorrect -- she and BFF Cathryn were both inducted as JUNIORS -- I flew up to Gville for their ceremony and dinner afterwards.

Most importantly, D2 met her besheret, Jonathan. I'm not saying I really dig him, but maybe during a drunken Sunday MAY have said that if they ever split up -- we keep Jonathan. Ha. I was joking. That same inebriated day I told D1 that I loved her, but now it was all about her boys. So silly the things alcohol brings out...

I think Mike's goal is to see ALL this season's Canes games. He already attended the farthest -- Stanford for the opener. He has plans to go to Clemson and Notre Dame. I always had a minor life goal of seeing a ball game in every MLB stadium. I think I've been to 10 or so, but I'm so old, several of the stadiums have since been replaced: Milwaukee, Minneapolis, and both Mets and Yankee homes. Oh well...maybe they keep Fenway.

As I reflect on tonight's game, which I will lazily watch on my sofa, maybe with an adult beverage or two, to celebrate my NORMAL BP reading at the doc's yesterday, I also think about how little choices affect the entire arc of one's life.

My first choice for law school was UF. I loved UM a lot, but after 4 years thought a change might do me good. But it was only one year post Dad's death, and my Mom still needed lots of help with the practical aspects of life -- finances, insurance, etc...I knew Gainesville would make that tougher to accomplish, so I took out close to $30K in loans (UF would have been far cheaper) and enrolled again at Coral Gables.

Well -- I met MY life partner, the long suffering, champion eye roller known to her grandsons and now the rest of us as "Ippi." And as the 2 of us discussed yesterday, as we shared a classic alter kocker day of trips for her to TWO doctors and lunch at a bagel place -- what a life we have been blessed to build together!

Who knows who I may have met at UF Law? The Ds always joke about classic Boomer names you never see anymore: Debbie, Susan, Robin, Julie... Yeah -- I probably wouldn't have ended up with someone with a biblical name.

Barry was all set to attend Duke, instead of UM, in 1980, but UM came through with a nice scholarship, and so he headed South instead of North. His boys, who are like sons to me, and I often wonder how HIS life would have turned out. I tell them they would have likely had uncles of other mothers just the same -- but they would have been FAR douchier than the ones they have now.

So today I have lunch with my old friend and banker Carole -- we met when I joined my first plaintiff's firm in 1988. I have followed her with accounts to easily 6 different banks. She's Irish, and I used to make fun of the fact that I, the Jewish guy, had been to her ancestral home TWICE, and she, zero. Two years ago that changed -- she flew there to watch her Seminoles play Ga Tech in Dublin, but ended up in the hospital with awful chest pain -- broken ribs.

It was worse -- the ribs were broken as a result of metastatic cancer that had spread pretty much everywhere. They packed her up with meds and she saw experts at Baptist's MCI. She was past surgery and radiation and chemo -- they started her on immunotherapy -- cutting edge stuff.

I honestly thought my friend would be gone by the end of the year -- but here we are -- past 2 years post diagnosis -- and we're meeting for lunch. Yeah -- I love it when idiots complain about the big bad medical industrial complex -- and big pharma. Without these, I wouldn't be catching up with my always jovial friend today.

So the plan is -- lunch with her - outside, as she is careful about picking up bugs. Maybe an afternoon nap. And then Canes on TV. When I think of Wake, I always think of the song Donald Fagan wrote about the "losers in the world -- Deacon Blue." Apparently he was inspired by watching Bama dominate them in a game. May they remain losers, big time, tonight.

I'll be happy knowing Mike, Jeannine, and Chris are there, repping the U. And making new memories for themselves.

The Final Queue

 Several years ago, the last of my family's Greatest Generation died. I think it was my Mom's sister Florence -- or it may have been her sister in law Muriel -- I forget. But the pre-Boomer and Boomer members have begun leaving the theater -- first was cousin Arlyne, who was the oldest and would have been, I think, 83 now.  My Dad's side cousin Steve jumped the line at 72 and died a few months back.

And today came word of another member of our generation -- my cousin Linda's husband Steve -- he had just turned 75. Like most of the rest of the family, time and tides had moved us apart -- socially if not physically. Linda and Steve, both long term Dade teachers, had moved to Century Village in Pembroke Pines years ago, and though my suegros were there at the same time -- we never got together.

I always found Steve an affable enough fellow -- and a lot less intellectual than his genetics would have predicted. His father was an accomplished academic, and, as I recall, the founding Dean of Nova's Osteopathic Med School, but Steve barely got his teaching degree and taught Phys Ed and Health. Not to be an academic snob, but I am -- often kids of the highly educated go to the next level -- not here.

Still, in the measure of a man that matters, he measured up well -- 2 daughters and a son who loved him, and a great caretaker to Linda, who years ago was stricken with dementia and Parkinson's. A video I saw from 2 years ago showed her in a nursing home "celebrating" their 50 something anniversary, and she was totally gone. I'm surprised she is still alive now, and I guess the only blessing is she probably can't mourn her life partner's passing.

In a way, it's good that I don't see my cousins, and haven't for many years. In my mind, they remain young marrieds -- full of life and welcoming kids. I don't have to think of the reality of the decline and decrepitude. 

But on the happy side of life, I plan to leave here in a few hours and cruise the man sized Buick SUV to D2's house. She will make us our afternoon cawfee on Jonathan's state of the art machine -- they became coffee snobs living in The Village for 4 years. We have been deputized to fetch Baby Man and then Little Man at their schools, since D1 had an important Biz call, and we will bring home dinner and eat at D2's. They can choose -- but typically it's between Pura Vida and Chik-Fil-A.

We will then bring them home, and bath and homework can ensue.

Wifey is dipping on account of she hosts mah jong tonight. That's ok -- I've come to learn to enjoy the solo drives home, with music and the gorgeous Miami sunset over the Everglades as I drive the Dolphin.

Friday the Canes play at Wake Forest. I'm sure plenty of fans can avoid hearing Steely Dan's "Deacan Blues" when they think of Wake, but I am NOT one of them -- hopefully Canes can be the winners of the world.

Sunday Chris has tix for Mike and me to join him for John Forgaty and Steve Winwood at the Indian Casino place. This will make #4 for my seeing Fogarty, and #1 for Mr. Blind Faith and Traffic. We will eat at Anthony's Fuhgettaboutit Runway first, and then Uber to the show.

Last week, it occured to me Sunday was Kol Nidre. Norman had bought tix for him and Benji but sold them when he saw the conflict. Me? Who am I kidding? I don't go to services -- maybe I'll have the last bites of sausage and peppers before sunset, and avoid more drinks at the concert.

The Big Man has plenty more to forgive me for than a Kol Nidre concert -- I hope He does.

I plan to listen to Leonard Cohen's "Who By Fire" on Monday -- his YK influenced song. Cousin Steve died NOT by fire -- not sure what took him.

But I do hope for another year in the Book of Life -- I am the youngest first cousin on both sides. Hey -- not nearly my turn!