Shanghaied To Shul

 So my buddy Jeff turned 65 today, and I asked what his plans were. To me, you must celebrate EVERY birthday -- especially if you believe in the Big Man. I was taught years ago that your life is the supreme gift, and if you do NOT celebrate your birthday, it is an act of ingratitude. I never wish to be an ingrate.

Also, I think the 0s and 5s bear special attention. I'm already giving thought to how I wish to celebrate MY 65th  in 2 months. Jeff had no real plans, so I offered to have him and Lili over for drinks after dinner. He doesn't drink -- so really Lili. That turned into a dinner invite at THEIR house -- so I will pack up my shaker, cosmo mix, and some plain Ketel for myself.

Anyway, I left for my constitutional at 730 this am, and just as I got near Jeff's house, I saw him pulling out in his cool new Lucid EV. I asked where he was going so early on his birthday, and he replied "Minyan at Chabad."

A minyan to the orthodox is 10 men, the number needed to say certain prayers, and to read from the Torah on those special days of the week. I used to be a regular "relief Jew," as I named myself -- filling in whenever they were short. But over time, I realized I wasn't a shul going guy -- so I go very infrequently. But today, I asked Jeff if he wished me to join him. He did --so I got into his car and off we went.

Sure enough, they were short a person, and so the fact that I was there let them say Kaddish, the prayer for the dead. Rabbi Yossi and Rabbi Moshe were there, and some old friends, and it was a very warm scene. After we un-tefillined ourselves, Jeff and 3 other guys followed Rabbi Moshe into another room, for a short learning session on Tanya.

Tanya is part of Jewish mysticism, also part of Kabbalah. It's become sort of a cool thing -- non Jews like Madonna go to Kabbalah study. But for the real McCoy Jews, so to speak, Tanya is something to be studied only by those with deep Torah and Talmud understanding -- it's a serious endeavor, not a pop fad. The short session was interesting.

Afterwards, Jeff dropped me back to his house, and my walk continued. I ran into Matthew, a rising UF senior whose company I also enjoy, and we walked 1.5 miles together -- he made me pick up my pace as he shared tales of Gainesville. His brother Zach, also a winner, will be a Palmetto High senior next year, and is also applying to UF. They're sort of younger, male versions of the Ds.

Tomorrow evening we're off to D1's, and bring in dinner with the boys. Hopefully D2 and Jonathan join us, too, along with Betsy, the enormous puppy. D2 got her groomed, and they put in dainty yellow ribbons on her head, which are hilarious -- as Betsy is SO large -- not like a little Maltese or Poodle.

So the weekend is here. I said my pre shabbos prayers, and feel spiritually elevated. Tonight we will celebrate a friend I met when we were 22. Lili faces the terrifying prospect of sleeping with a 65 year old man. I guess that's what happens when you stick around a marriage long enough.

Ear Issues...What????

 I've always been blessed with keen hearing --the Ds inherited it. I can tell if a toilet is running anywhere in the house, to Wifey's amazement, all of the time. About 2 years ago, alas, I developed tinnitus, or ringing in the ears.

I saw Dr. Rigo about it, and he said all my tests were normal, and if it didn't bother me too much, leave it be. Luckily it doesn't -- sort of a quiet hiss in the background when it's quiet. He explained it comes from the hairs in the inner ear becoming brittle with age. There are no real cures for it, though the internet is lousy with them. I let it be.

In March, I had Nurse Nancy do her thrice yearly earwax removal. She sort of struggled with the right ear, and sure enough, a few days later, I had ear pain. I saw Dr. Rigo -- eardrum was fine, but I had some sort of irritation, so he gave me drops with 2 antibiotics and a steroid. Sure enough, in a few days all was fine...until...

Mid April, I went swimming with Little Man, and a few days later, my ears itched! This was a new one, and I self treated with the remaining drops. But a week later -- no relief. It was time to see Dr. Brian.

Dr. Brian is a neighbor and great guy. He's in his early 70s, and like me, from Long Island, but a Catholic school guy instead of a public school one. We chat mornings when he drives by in his 911, and the year before Covid, I saw him for a cough and sore throat that wouldn't quit -- convinced I had throat cancer. Nah -- all was fine, but he DID tell me to avoid alcohol mouthwash -- he was sure it would be reported it was harmful. Oh no -- what about drinking? That was fine, he assured -- the booze passes through -- you don't daily gargle with it. He was correct.

I saw him early today, and he said the drops I was given are a 50 year old prescription, and bore a problem: the neosporin tends to kill good ear bacteria, allowing for a fungal infection. He cultured me and would let me know results next week, but put in a powder that killed both fungus and bacteria, to get started.

What about the tinnitus? He has it too, he explained, and as long as I dealt with it -- deal with it. He told me about one patient driven to a suicide attempt by "the noise in his head." I told him I was nowhere near that.

We traded LI tales, as well as those of a former mutual friend we've both lost contact with. Great guy -- I saw him last month at Captain's Tavern while I was sharing Kenny's farewell dinner. He and his wife had Kay along, a lovely widow. The fact that he includes her speaks volumes about Brian and his wife.

So, yet another feature of aging. As if on cue, I got a letter from Medicare today. They had listed my premium as zero, which I knew was a mistake. Sure enough, now that they have checked the files, it will be $446 per month. Adding on the supplements, I'll be paying just under $1K per month -- less than half my Obamacare, and with better coverage. So I got no complaints.

Last night at pre class dinner, Jeff showed Barry and me HIS Medicare card -- he's already using the benefits -- CT scan and other expensive tests. He turns 65 tomorrow, and had no real celebration plans. I invited him and Lili to come by after dinner, and I would make Lili some Cosmos so she could better deal with the fact that she'll be sleeping with a 65 year old man. Scary thought, I would think.

Instead, Lili invited US for dinner -- I will bring my Cosmos and some vodka with me, and we will celebrate. I met Jeff when we were 22. Now 65. Man -- those years fly by.

Lili has VERY serious hearing issues -- if you are behind her and call her name...nothing. She has begun lip reading. So I guess the conversation will be LOUD tomorrow evening -- with lots of "Ehs?" and "Whats?"

Old age sounds different, it turns out.

Grandma Sleepover

 Wifey and I have been blessed with our parents -- beloved by both mom and dad - though Wifey's parents did their best through the trauma of The Holocaust. In contrast, my parents Great Depression and WW II childhoods and youth were walks in the park (Crotona Park, in The Bronx). But in the grandparent department...

Wifey never met hers on account of the Nazis killed them along with much of my suegros' family. My paternal grandfather Simon died 6 years before I was born, and my maternal grandfather Isidore died when I was, I guess, 4 or 5. I have one memory of a very old man (he was probably my age) in a hospital bed -- so no impact on my life.

My Dad's Mom Jennie spoke English, with a slight Yiddish accent, but never seemed much interested in me. My memories were going with my Dad to visit her in Jackson Heights to bring her groceries, and my holding my nose against the stink of urine. It was a relief when we were able to leave and go upstairs to my Aunt Anne's apartment where there was, mercifully, no incontinence. But I recall zero conversations with Jennie -- really until the final year of her life, and that had funny consequences.

Wifey and I were together, I guess '84 or '85, and we went to visit her. I tried to see Anne, to introduce her to my intended, but Anne had a lunch with friends that day she apparently couldn't reschedule (my Mom said she was petrified she might have had to buy us or prepare lunch). So we found Jennie, and she was SWEET. This was a woman I never saw smile, but in her dementia was positively lovely. I introduced Wifey using her Yiddish name, Faygele, and that was the last time I saw her.

Later, Anne called my Mom and said she never knew I was gay. Apparently her mother said "David was here with his faygele," which is Yiddish slang for gay, and so my Mom laughed heartily and explained. Not that there would have been anything wrong with that.

My maternal grandmother, Anna, both mumbled and had a HEAVY Yiddish accent, such that I truly never understood a word she said. She was warm to me -- I recall one visit to our house on LI, and visits to her in Spring Valley where she stayed with my Aunt Lorraine in the Summer, and Miami Beach where she snowbirded at the "Edvaard" (Edward) Hotel on 10th and Collins. My mother said she was a woman of great folk wisdom, and I assume she was -- I just never got it first hand. One tidbit I recall is her answer when her kids complained of life being too hectic. "You want peace? There's peace in the tomb." Indeed.

So it brings me great joy to see our grandsons being so close. And yesterday, Wifey drove to Miami Shores, fetched D2 and Betsy, and then they got Little Man. They were selling Italian Ices outside of his school, and he allowed as how D1 "never lets me have this," so Wifey bought him one. From there, they spent time at D1's, and enjoyed the afternoon, and when it was time for Wifey to re-home D2 and Betsy, Little Man begged for "Ippi" to spend the night.

She did -- after the short dropoff to Miami Shores, and texted me about post bedtime story conversations with the VERY bright 6 year old -- about religion, why Jesus was killed if he was a nice man, etc...He thinks more deeply than most kindergartners.

Wifey got up 5 am to pee, and was met by him "Are you up now? Are you going to do morning things?" As Dean Martin sang: "Memories are made of this."

I read recently that the best a grandparent can do has zero to do with gifts -- or even experiences, like taking them on trips. Rather, the grandchild should know that when they are together, the grandchild is by FAR the most important person in the room. And so it is with our boys -- they definitely know that.

So it was a lovely evening. Hopefully I see them this weekend, but it seems their days are mighty packed with activities. If so, I'll cruise up next week for a visit -- but I won't sleep over. Wifey has more patience than I -- and I mind driving less.

Wifey is exploring cruises for this Fall. She has a milestone birthday in December, which number cannot be revealed or even hinted about by saying things like she was born when Eisenhower was president. In January we celebrate our 40th anniversary. July I turn 65 -- so yeah -- bunch of big signs marking time on the trail of life.

Maybe it'll be Portugal. Barry and Donna have interest -- I sent info to Mike and Loni last night, though they have a granddaughter coming in July, and I think they have visited the areas already, as have Dana and Eric. Joelle and Kenny have taken one of the cruises we're considering -- and they'll be in Maine this Fall. So we'll see.

But as we pass these milestones, indeed grandkids are a highlight. Pretty sure if you asked the garrulous grandson -- he'd agree.

Graduation Days Of Yore

 So my alma mater held its graduations last week and weekend. I saw one pic photobombed by Jon Bon Jovi -- turned out his son Romeo graduated the Music School. And my friend Norman attended his step son's med school graduation. And then I saw the speaker at the UM Law ceremony was Judge Roy Altman, my new man crush, as D1 noted. Ah, the spigot of memories opened.

I don't clearly recall my HS graduation, in June of '79. In my mind, I was already headed away from Long Island to Miami. I DO recall that my friend Eric (LI Eric, not Miami Eric) did one of the meanest passive aggressive stunts ever -- surely the biggest to that date. My HS girlfriend Alison and her parents threw me a surprise going away/graduation party at their house. I had zero idea about it, and the plan was Eric and I were to head to Alison's to fetch her and head to a local diner.

On the way, Eric said to me "You know about the surprise party, right?" Um, no dude -- what are you talking about? He feigned shame, but I knew right away he told me out of envy -- he had no girlfriend, and was headed to Nassau CC instead of university. So, I walked up to the house, and faked surprise -- the Cohen's had at least 25 people there, including my parents -- and everyone yelled "Surprise!" and handed me a UM T shirt (the Ibis was still smoking a pipe back then). It was a lovely party, and very nice bon voyage, and the next day Eric (putz), Mark, Mike, John, and Gerry gathered in front of our house to say goodbye.

We caravanned the 2 cars (my '78 Firebird and my Dad's '75 Olds 98) to Virginia, boarded the Autotrain the next am, and we were Florida bound. Au revior, Long Island!

Well, the next 4 years a lot happened. On the great side, I made lifelong friends (Eric and Barry and I are still brothers), I fell in love, had my heart truly broken. On the awful side, my Dad died in my arms the Summer before Senior year, in a barbershop chair.

I clearly recall college graduation. It was on the green by the library, outside and hot as hell. My Mom had been seeing a guy -- I barely knew him and was annoyed that he got to be part of my graduation -- that was pride saved for my beloved Dad. But Mom liked the fellow, who was named Bernie if memory served.

The speaker was a South American president with an impenetrable accent. Afterwards, we went out with Eric and his parents and sister, and my friend Jeff and his brother and parents. We were all solidly middle class -- the meal was at Steak and Ale in Kendall -- with a salad bar! After dinner, Jeff and Eric went home to their Kendall houses, Sunny back to Delray with Bernie, and I went to spend the final night in my on campus apartment.

My friend Jean, who is a non practicing lawyer I still see, was one of the only other people in the building. She was leaving for Duluth for the Summer, and then off to UCLA Law. I had a bottle of fine wine (either Mateus rose or some blush stuff) and we drank together and toasted -- both of us realizing we were at an inflection point in our lives, with treasured memories from Building 22 -- including theme parties that were the envy of many (Serbian New Years, AntlerFest, Super Bowl, Drinks Around the World).

I left the next am for summer in Delray -- a great job as a pharmacy tech at Boca Hospital before returning to Coral Gables for Law School. Barry dipped on Eric and me on plans for a 3 bedroom place by Dadeland, and so it was besheret that we pick a different garden apartment where a quirky, funny, pretty 26 year old was living upstairs -- later to become Wifey.

That same month, I also met Mike, Jeff, and Norman as 1 Ls, and our friendships endure to this day -- trips together around the world, and too many great times to mention -- spouses, kids, and for Mike and Jeff and me, grandkids. Yeah -- lots happen over 4 decades.

Law School graduation was mercifully inside, at the Dade County Auditorium. This time I think I fetched my Mom -- no random dudes. Wifey and I were "Exclusive!" as the Ds love to lampoon, and she was there -- beaming with my Mom.

The speaker was the Dean they named a month before, and none of us knew her. We wondered why our beloved Dean, Claude Sowle, was benched, and sort of protested by talking on the stage while the random new woman spoke.

I really don't recall where we celebrated, but since my future in laws were probably present, I'm guessing it may have been Canton, which we all loved -- maybe a large "special steak" which came sizzling.

The next Monday I was back at work, for my comically anti semitic boss Dan, where I was clerking ("Hell, I thought you were German, like me. I wouldn't have hired you if I knew you were a fucking Jew! I hate Jews and Cubans."). Maybe Miami wasn't the right match for Dan, though he as born and raised here and died here years ago. I didn't mourn his loss -- kind of chuckled when I read the obit.

So those were the 3 graduations for me. We got to see a combined 6 for the Ds -- high school, college, and Master's programs. D1 graduated high school 20 years ago this June. I AM old...

But I love graduations -- our next is May 29th -- the kindergarten ceremony for Little Man. That's one I WILL remember.

MD 2026 In The Books

So this am I got in my more than 7K steps, part of which was with neighbors Hilit and Alex, two academic docs who live in the 'hood. They stopped to say hello, and I asked them if they had seen the classic Bill Murray film "Groundhog Day." They had, and so I told them I would play the part of the annoying insurance salesman and tag along for part of the journey. I learned their youngest is starting PT school in Boston, and their oldest lives in D.C. doing I forget what. But I wished Hilit happy MD -- she adores her girls, and they adore her.

Then I called Barry to tell him a funny anecdote but also to tell him I felt for him -- the first MD following the loss of Bev. He was philosophical about it, of course, and then I called his sister Phyllis to leave her a VM  with the same sentiments. She texted back -- it was a tough day. We agreed you don't "get over" a parent's loss, but the years lighten the sadness.

Wifey and I got into a wonderful talk about the nature of our 40 year (almost) marriage, and how we each put up with family annoyances for each other. We also talked about how young and clueless we were at 25 and barely 30, and how neither of us was dying to have kids, but doing so was the best thing we ever did.

Sure enough, the oldest one came over soon after, and we traveled to meet D2 and Jonathan at Platea, a local steak and ceviche place. They had an MD brunch, but also the regular menu, and since we didn't see the need for 5 desserts, opted to family style share some lamb chops, 2 steaks, a seabass, and ceviche. Oh -- sides, too, and a few adult beverages. Even Wifey had a prosecco! It was a festive, wonderful celebration -- we laughed, and spoke of life, and of days past and to come. I toasted my Baby Momma Wifey -- best in the business.

Earlier, D1 had sent her an email, which Wifey may print out and frame. It was hilarious and loving -- D1 is indeed self aware, and Mother aware. D2 is now on the clock. I know her email will be terrific, too. As we all agreed, you do NOT blow past MD or Wifey's birthday, even though, as D1 wrote, Wifey has zero cruel bones in her body. She does have guilt-producing ones, when triggered.

D1 came back with us, and had some calls while we got to pet the skittish Spaniel. She left for an early dinner with her friend Nicole and family at Nicole's Mom's boyfriend Jay's house in the Grove. I watched some NBA playoffs, and have but one activity left: the new episode of "Rooster," which Wifey and I like -- chuckle producing with Steve Carell. Not liking Steve Carell is like not liking Dolly Parton -- everyone likes them.

Tomorrow my workout awaits, and a trip to Total Wine, as I am running perilously low on vodka and Cosmo mix, and Lili comes to play mah jong each Wednesday and expects her Cosmo, even though the game now conflicts with Bible Study, and she has to shake her own.

I think Wifey and D2 are fetching Little Man at school tomorrow. I may sit it out -- let the ladies have their time with the grandsons and nephews.

We're considering a Euro cruise in the Fall -- Donna and Barry have interest, now that they have become Explora addicts, as we are. Kenny and Joelle already took the route we're considering, and will be in Maine in the Fall, anyway.

Lots of moving parts putting together these trips, though I joked that these days, they may offer Hantavirus discounts.

I've never been to Portugal, the place we're considering, so I'm not kicking and screaming as I tend to do when offered Euro trips. Wifey is always the driver behind them, and I end up having a great time. I expect if we go, that will be the protocol.

It's funny -- some dear friends chose their mates precisely because they wanted the best mothers for their kids. That didn't even occur to me. I just dug Wifey, knew our values were the same, and if there were kids -- well -- as I mentioned to D1's hilarity -- I kind of wondered how maternal she'd be.

When we first met, in the Summer of '83, she had just returned from visiting her friend, who had a baby girl. Wifey showed me pictures of her holding the kid, and made a face of disgust -- as if her friend, a housewife in suburban Atlanta and part time helper of her husband's chiropractic office, had a reason to NOT become a mother. But Wifey still saw the 2 of them as years away from motherhood. I guess I recalled that in 1988, when Wifey got pregnant after a year of marriage.

Boy, was I off! Wifey turned out to be the most wonderful, loving, mother. Just today, the Ds said how they always felt safe and loved by her, and still do. D1 said she patterns herself as a mother after Wifey, though with less patience for her "feral racoons" disguised as young boys.

So there was proper honoring today, as is tradition (Love that South Park reference).

Next up: Little Man's kindergarten graduation at the end of May. Man, the years sure do slip by fast.

Extended Family Best Left Alone

 My many Latin friends and family are involved in the lives of cousins, aunts, and uncles. My friend Jeff, too -- seems to ALWAYS be attending a function involving an aunt or uncle or cousin -- even out of town stuff. That long ago fell away for Wifey and me, with a few small exceptions.

Wifey has 2 cousins we like -- Sandy and Mark -- sons of Wifey's late uncle Lou. We've gotten together over the years -- most recently about 5 years ago when we met Mark and his Boston born wife Susan for sushi in Doral -- but Wifey hasn't followed up, and just follows their lives on FaceBook. Her maternal side cousin, a lovely frum fellow from Baltimore, calls EVERY Jewish holiday -- Wifey never returns his calls -- and does it out of a sense of duty to his late aunt, Wifey's late mother. When Wifey asked how many grandkids and great grandkids they have, she heard "We don't count -- you don't count people like things." I kind of liked that.

On my end, I speak once in awhile with my cousin Steven, a lifelong bachelor in Queens. Often he calls for free legal advice about car wrecks, landlord/tenant stuff, and we catch up, but I no longer initiate contact.

And the other day, I reached out to my favorite cousin Jeff, and we had a long catch up talk, where I learned his older sister had died. I FaceBook (tm) messaged the surviving son, Isaac, but haven't heard back. I likely won't, since the middle aged man has only met me once, and he probably figures -- "ah -- who IS this guy?" And that's fine, too.

Jeff ended our call saying he very much wanted to get together -- I should call in a month or so to set something up. "Old Dave" would have -- I enjoy his company, and we have tales to tell of days past and future, but "New Dave" won't make the effort.

Wifey long ago pointed out the difference, when you speak to old friends or relatives, between "We should get together," and "How's next weekend?" I used to be the one to follow up and plan -- now -- not so much. I guess it comes with the crankiness of accepting old man status, but Wifey's right -- if I truly wish to see someone, I will make it happen. If it's "that would be an ok visit," -- why bother?

Last Spring, when we returned from a Danube River cruise with Eric and Dana (and the new Penn State friends they made), I got a call from my cousin Barry. He's, to quote Joni Mitchell, a rambler, and a gambler and a sweet talkin' ladies man -- a truly loveable scoundrel.

His lovely English wife died several years ago, and Barry, who has made tons of money and lost tons of money, called me in dire straits -- the IRS was a-comin', and he needed a few k to fend them off. Could he borrow a few thousand?

No -- he could not. I long ago got out of the lending business -- nearly cost me a close friendship - and DID cost a close friendship when I refused to loan a doc friend $50K to open a pain clinic -- Medicare and Medicaid fraud traps, it seemed to me.

But, I sent Barry a gift -- told him I never expected repayment. I made it clear it was a one and done -- he could ask me for anything in the future, but the spigot was off. Still, he sent a series of texts blessing me, telling me I was always the star of the family (apparently other cousins blew him off -- many of whom are broke ass themselves, I assume), and I deserved EVERY blessing I had in my life, and I suffer from an embarrassment of those, for sure.

Wow, as I told Wifey. Turned out it was a good investment. The charity we give to UM, FIU, Chabad, and others NEVER bestow blessings like that -- well -- maybe Chabad does. I was glad I helped him.

But going forward, I don't plan to have much to do with the cousins. The aunts and uncles are all long gone -- the Greatest Generation crossed their bridges.

And now, among the first cousins, of my Mom's side, there were 16 of us. Now there are 14. My sister Trudy is the oldest surving one, and she turned 81, I'm the youngest -- turning 65. I know from chats with Barry that many of the survivors are VERY sick -- dementia, various forms of cancer. So really it's just now a waiting thing -- who among our cohort will be next to meet the Grim Reaper?

And when they do -- will I find out about it closer in time than Gloria's passing months ago? Maybe; maybe not. May they all be blessed with many more years, and good health.

It's funny -- I don't like to think of myself as a grudge keeper, but I am. Back in 1987, after seeing most of the cousins at our wedding, I told Wifey I wished to rehabilitate the cousins' get together of my childhood. Most lived then in South Florida, and I invited all of them to our first house. This was pre-D1.

All accepted, and I fetched, I still recall, $200 worth of Canton takeout, and bought plenty of adult beverages. At the appointed time, Jeff and Lynn showed up. As the time went on, no one else did. So as Jeff and I tore into a 5th of Absolut, and ate lots of ribs and egg rolls, I started calling the other 12 or so who were due to come.

I got lots of "Wow -- was that TODAY?" and "Sorry -- something came up." So the party ended up being just 2 couples -- and a big waste of money -- back in the day when $200 was a big hit for our social budget.

I vowed to NEVER be the coordinator again, and I haven't. A few years ago, my cousin Linda's daughter Rachel, a sweet woman, now middle aged, as well, suggested we have a get together -- there are still plenty of us in the 3 county area. I responded that sounded great. But, of course she meant I ought to plan it. Nope -- homie don't play that game twice -- even decades later.

And so it shall be -- the cousins will float along, apart. And that's ok.

Planning MD 2026

 So last night I met Barry for pre- bible study dinner -- at a strip center we used to visit a LOT! It's on Ludlam and the Highway -- where our beloved Canton was located. Last night we got salads at a place I had vowed to D2 to never visit again, after I paid a LOT for a salad, years ago. But Barry wanted salads, and so we went -- and the Cobb was actually not bad.

But the memories! It was our go-to Chinese place, especially when Colin, our Hong Kong born and raised roommie, was a waiter there. He would give us extra portions, and one night was an unwitting part of a laugh experience that I truly worried caused Barry and Mark to go into respiratory failure.

It was a cool night, and the apartment windows were open, and I heard Barry and Mark walking back to our apartment. You couldn't NOT hear Mark -- the now big shot neurosurgeon was comically loud. As I awaited them, I spied Colin's red Chinese waiter jacket hanging from a door knob, and was seized by comic inspiration. I put it on (the cuffs came to my elbows), and when Barry and Mark walked in, greeted them in a way that would totally get me canceled today. "Welcome back to humble abode, most honorable students -- may your important studies continue." And I bowed, like Charlie Chan.

I still recall their faces. There was a beat or two of silence, and then both literally doubled over with laughter that, as I said, got me worrying I might have to call 911. Any time I need to cheer up Barry, I just go into the awful fake accent and call him "honorable." Yeah, 4.5 decades ago I was a funny and politically incorrect guy. Nothing has changed as the undergrad has transitioned into an old man.

But anyway, after  Torah class, which was terrific, by the way (a discussion and analysis of the basis of morality -- human created versus that given by the Big Man), I showed Barry my family's text chain about planning for this Sunday.

Jonathan has noted that we share TOO much, while his family probably shares too little. The details of Wifey and the Ds, plus D1's comically busy schedule made for more fodder. We finally settled on Platea, our local prime beef and ceviche place -- they have a MD brunch. We're going at 1, so D1 can make it to an am appointment in the Grove, and a birthday dinner/MD meet with her dear friend Nicole.

Everyone in this family knows, when it comes to Wifey, do NOT blow past 2 events: her birthday and MD. NYE, Jewish holidays, even T Day, which is MY favorite -- eh. But there damn well better be a note and a get together for her Big 2. And for good reason.

Wifey is the best mother I know. When we first married, I wondered whether, as an only, spoiled child, she would be very maternal when we had kids. Indeed, the plan was she would stay home for 3 months after D1 came, and then get child care and return to work. Nope. She fell in love head over heels for our baby girl -- and embarked on her life's work: a (pause) mazing mother.

Everything she did, she did for them, and now there is exquisite return: 2 beautiful boys from D1, and hopefully more from D2. The oldest, Baby Man, looks JUST like D1, so it's a wonderful recapitulation of her early years -- with an all boy switch. 

And now they're grown ass women, as I remind them, the Ds truly still adore and love their mother. And this brings me joy.

I don't really know bad mothers. Well -- at least not "Mommie Dearest" bad. Well -- that's not true either -- I DO know some crappy mothers -- but not many, in our orbit, at least.

But the Ds and I will celebrate Wifey this Sunday -- even though, like the ditty my Dad sang, EVERY day is mother's day for her.

And speaking of Barry...this is the first MD for him and his sister Phyllis without their beloved Bev. I know Phyllis, especially, is not looking forward to Sunday. Donna has her two boys, who adore her, too.

I remember MD 2013, after Sunny died. It was indeed a hollow day -- just the memories were left. It turned out her cremains were delivered the day before, and so the Ds, Wifey, and I went to Matheson Hammock to commit them to the sea that sad MD.

Her spirit is very much with us -- just a few weeks ago, we took my nephew Henry to the spot, during his 305 visit, and we told Sunny stories. We shall tell more Sunday, as well as Rachel tales -- those are funnier and more absurd. She was an adoring mother and grandmother, too -- Wifey got it from her.

And I have to make my annual call -to Jeff. For reasons now lost to the fog of history, in law school I started calling him each MD to wish him a happy day. Probably it had something to do with the OTHER "mother" word -- as we were budding, bad ass (ha!) lawyers. But I shall call him Sunday -- his Mom Judy is long gone, too, but will celebrate the life work of Lili -- another awesome mother.

And in June? Father's Day. Ha. Talk about the po relation. In my case, truly EVERY day is Father's Day for me.