Craving Six

 Ok -- it's late in the first week of November, and it's still too damn hot in Miami. The rain has finally abated -- Summer--like downpours Sunday were so bad Wifey and I stayed home rather than see the grands. That's serious rain!

I walked the skittish Spaniel today, and while the temp was tolerable, the recent rains brought back the dreaded mosquitoes. I hadn't Deep Woods Off upped up, as it is November, and that was a mistake. I squished a good 40 of them on my arms and legs. Hopefully there's no malaria in the area, as we used to say in grade school.

My signpost for the better climate is a morning where the low drops into the 60s. That's the signal that cooler weather is upon us. The weather app has been 6 teasing me -- it shows it'll happen in a few days, but then it never drops below 70. Supposably, as we say in the 305, late next week it's coming. There's even a FIVE showing for next Friday. We'll see.

Meanwhile, yesterday was one of the banner days we have when we fetch the grands, with a hilarious twist. D2 and I went to Baby Man's temple pre-school to fetch him. I'm friendly with the security guard -- a very large Black man they call Mr. Kenn. I gave him a Canes hoodie, and seats to the Pitt game. We always talk our beloved Canes.

Yesterday he answered the intercom when I showed up at the gate. I recognized his voice immediately -- as opposed to the typical Latin Jewish woman. He said "Hey -- I KNOW who this is!" And I answered with "Thass right -- Granddad Dave!" He opened the gate.

D2 was doubled over in laughter. I knew why. I hung my head and said "Yes, as soon as the words came out, I realized I was affecting a cool, urban style, which I have ZERO right to, as I am a nerdy suburban white male. 

Mr. Kenn came out -- none the angry, and we discussed the upcoming Notre Dame game, to be played without our star player Malachi Toney. But we laughed about it -- when we told D1 later, she may have peed a little. Wifey was sort of "huh?" which was funny, too.

So in a bit we will motor to Merrick Park to have what I am calling the subsidized lunch, since somehow we have to pay 1/2 the cost of Wifey's 2 rich friends to get there from Aventura. I already have MORE than my $50 worth -- I plan to offer Barry gas money tomorrow for driving his family to my house to watch the game.

Yes -- often the puerile is hilarious. This is one of those times.

Meanwhile, our Euro trip draws ever more nigh. We leave December 6 -- 2 nights in Barcelona, then on the wonderful Explora, a true floating Ritz Carlton, and 12 nights to Lisbon. Wifey and Donna are negotiating elder friendly excursions. Both are VERY limited in how much they can walk. Wifey freely admits it. Donna still thnks she can.

I'm just thrilled to be with Barry on his first trip to Europe, after decades of avoiding long vacations since he was convinced the hospital would collapse with his absence.

I've been to Barcelona, but am looking forward to Casablanca and Portugal, and the Canary Islands. Living in Miami for close to half a century has made me an honorable Cuban, and most of my friends have Canary Islands origins.

But for now -- nice lunch today, where I will play the role of Wifey's escort. Typically I grab the check and say "Girls don't pay!" as I have done hundreds of times before. But since I am subsidizing a private Uber -- Wifey gets to be the rich lady with her arm candy -- albeit a large, gray, old chunk of arm candy.

And tomorrow the vodka will be a-pouring, and the Takee Outee a-delivering. Hope the Canes win, but with by best Peeps there, I already win.

Election -- All I Ever Wanted

 I have a guilty pleasure: feigning real interest in American politics on FaceBook and elsewhere with folks who seem to care -- a LOT. I care about local issues, and whether elected officials are anti-Jewish, on account of I and everyone related to me is Jewish. But I do NOT have TDS (Trump Derangement Syndrome). While I didn't vote for him, and find him an embarrassment, I also find him hilarious.

And as I figured, he would go too far, and alienate many of whom elected him by popular vote last time. Sure enough, the Dems took back the House and Senate == and thankfully the embarrassment we had running in Florida, Ashley Nixon, lost.

So come January, Trump shifts to "President Veto," and won't get any more federal judges confirmed. I'm happy about that. But MOST importantly for this house, there will be gridlock for 2 years -- and -- turns out -- the stock market LOVES gridlock. It's because the Market likes certainty, and the only certainty for a few years is no major changes affecting companies will happen. Today, my account is up a lot.

I voted for the Dem for governor, a centrist guy who used to be a Republican. He was defeated by a Black conservative. One of my friends who cares WAY too much texted that Florida is a bunch of old white racists -- to the Dems lost. But wait -- how do racists elect a Black man? TDS somehow makes you think voting for a Black pro-Trump candidate makes you racist. I don't know...

But there is a reason to celebrate -- the end, for now, of the sickening political ads. We have a sign in front for a commission candidate who lost -- put there after our new Mayor Shannon asked me. I met the guy at Shannon's thank you party, which I dubbed the "meeting of old Democrat gringos." He was nice enough. As I type, I can't recall if he won or not -- his opponent had a similar name.

Again -- I don't take this stuff seriously.

I DID get another laugh today, though. Wifey's friends live in Aventura, and don't like to drive far anymore. Wifey doesn't like to drive to Aventura anymore. So I was told we were meeting in the Gables Friday for lunch. 

I canceled the attendance at a friend's judicial investiture -- MANY folks will be there -- our friend just turned 80. I figure Michelle will have a bunch more investitures -- birthdays in the future for an 80 year old?

Anyway, I got a call from the birthday girl today -- on account of Wifey ignores most calls she gets -- her friends call ME. The birthday girl and her BFF want to come Friday, but the complimentary bus from the luxe senior center is on the blink. They found a fellow to drive -- $100 round trip. Ok, whatever -- these 2 travel the world, produce Broadway plays -- no big whoop, right?

Well, they decided we should pay half! I deferred to Wifey, and she agreed! The reason was that she had offered this in the past rather than have to drive herself.

I aped Don Corleone with Wifey: "There will come a day...or that day will never come..." where one of MY friends will do something amazingly cheap or annoying, and Wifey will be expected to grin and bear it. She agreed.

Oy -- this should be the biggest issue. Tonight my fellow Talmudists Norman and Barry and I have dinner and then Kabbalah study. We all enjoy our Wednesdays immensely.

A bunch of my crew is off to Chicago tomorrow or Friday for the Canes at ND. I shall host a watch party here. Wifey and her bad back aren't too pleased. The $50 I am paying for rich lady Uber Friday buys me peace.

Tomorrow Little Man is being honored with other top First Graders. We shall attend by Zoom, and then fetch him and his Baby brother later. I think D2 and Betsy will assist.

Yeah -- I give few Fs about who won the Midterms. I tot too much living to do IRL (in real life) as the millennials say...

Halloween

 So in Miami, it seems that about every 5 years, the weather is a bit cooler. I still recall 2005 -- Hurricane Wilma hit us, doing little damage but cutting the power for a few weeks. It was around Halloween. It was SO beautiful that I slept great at night without any A/C, as Wifey and D1 and D2 were up in Atlanta awaiting electricity.

But this year is no 2005. Today is hot and humid. And that's ok.

The grands and their Mom are hosting D1's British friend and her cousin, and their 4 kids. The plan is to show the UK kids their first Halloween. They'll trick or treat in Miami Shores, where several of the streets are blocked off and people really get into the spirit. Hopefully they'll see D2 and Jonathan and the haunted Golden Pyrenees Betsy.

We have some candy, and will place the stuffed friendly Frankenstein's monster out front -- Wifey bought him probably 30 years ago and he spends the rest of the year in the AC closet. He emerges one time per year and sits in a folding chair welcoming any kids.

Years ago, we got close to 100 kids. Lately, it seems, the parents take the kids to blocked off streets. Plus, our houses are one and half acres -- so trick or treating here yields little ROI. Still, we'll keep open the door in case anyone comes by.

My MAIN plan is to watch the Canes at UNC -- we're heavily favored but have a checkered history there. I recall a Halloween party years ago in The Shores -- Canes lost on a last second field goal. I commiserated with my buddy Dave Coulson, he of the tragic, sudden death last year.

Man, did I LOVE Halloween as a kid and into my teens. Long Island Fall weather WAS gorgeous, each year. As a little kid, I recall trick or treating, except for one year when I had strep throat. My neighbor Leigh Ellen carried an extra sack that said "David is sick. Trick or treat," and she brought me a bounty that evening. It was curative...

As we became asshole pre teens, Halloween prep started mid October. We would buy eggs and hide them -- the stores wouldn't sell eggs to kids close to Halloween. We'd also buy shaving cream. At night, armed with our supplies, we would egg the houses of nasty neighbors, and shaving cream any of our female classmates we came upon.

\Nassau cops would patrol, and come up to us and pat us hard, to break any eggs we had in our pockets. One year, when I was, I guess 14, we saw the cops coming up a Seaford street. I looked and saw that a streetlight base was missing a cover, and so I stashed my eggs there, and passed the pat test. When I went to retrieve them, I got the literal shock of my life -- threw me back 10 feet. I guess the rubber soled sneakers saved me. I learned first hand a lesson about electricity and not getting stupidly near it.

High school was fun parties -- sometimes with literal garage bands, and later, with fake IDs, visits to Rum Bottoms, or the Rusty Nail, local taverns.

College Halloween went to another level. I recall several really fun parties. One year, my cousin Janet, who was at Broward College, hosted a costume party at her apartment near campus. My friend Vince and I spent the day at my parents' condo, and then dressed as Siamese twins in a diaper, with baby bonnets and plastic baby bottles. After we met some young ladies, it was time to rip the diaper and separate. We got lots of laughs...

Tomorrow we'll head up to see the Grands, and hopefully Tia D2 and Tio Jonfin as well...Maybe we bring in some early dinner.

November starts our family's busy season. The kickoff is D1's birthday near TDay, and Wifey's birthday shared with the famous guy from Israel -- not Bibi. NYE, and then our anniversary -- 40 years coming. Little Man turns 7 -- his day is a week before Wifey's.  And we consider the end early February -- D2's birthday. It's truly our busy season.

Wifey's birthday is a milestone this year, and she has made clear I am NO longer to mention her age or the fact that Eisenhower was in office when she was born in Haifa, especially since I wasn't born until JFK was in the Oval Office.

But the celebration of both the milestone birthday and our 40th will be on the European seas -- Barcelona to Lisbon, with Donna and Barry. Barry long thought that his children's hospital would collapse if he left for more than a week. Thankfully he now realized the folly of his loyalty to them.

But for now -- 2 words: Go Canes! Next week we're hosting a watch party for the game at Notre Dame -- nice if we go into that still ranked #1.

Rabbi MacKenzie

 So great music trivia: Paul McCartney wrote "Eleanor Rigby," and was going to name the pastor Father McCartney, but was talked out of it by George Martin -- and so it was Father MacKenzie who was wiping his hands as he walked from the grave. No one was saved...

Yesterday Paul and I met at a coffee shop across from the cemetery where we were to attend the funeral of the 43 year old lawyer -- the son of Paul's UM classmate and someone I know quite well. I was dreading the piercing mourning of someone taken so young -- but then -- reform rabbi!

I first developed bad feelings for these guys right before Wifey and I got married. A fellow I'll call Rabbi Kram, since that's his name, had sucked pre-Wifey and I into the whole "you need more Jewishness in your life" pre marital counseling thing,and then dipped on us for a free trip to Israel the week before our wedding. D2 loves when I tell the tale with "But I thought we was partners!"

It remained -- a Bat Mitzvah in suburban Atlanta where the ponderous, self important guy went on for over an hour; a rabbi telling a bunch of us that golf on shabbat was ok as long as you "thought about the meaning of the sabbath", another bar mitzvah that never seemed to end, and an ultra liberal, be afraid of Covid girl rabbi who ended up herself being a super spreader since she didn't think her husband's COVID was something she should have mentioned to 200 wedding guests.

So yesterday, the fellow, who apparently knew the decedent's sister, but not the decedent, went on for nearly 2!!! hours as people were packed under a pergola -- actually going so far as to repeat what the people who spoke had just said! My friend Barry has long noticed that many academics seem to truly love the sound of their own voices -- this rabbi was world class in that regard. But as a result, the ponderousness of it seemed to dull the grief -- not too many tears were shed.

As they were sliding the casket into the mausoleum, Paul and I walked away -- and found a Venezuelan Chinese place. It was funny -- both his family in Philly and mine on LI often ate Chinese Sunday evenings -- tradition preserved -- though the NE places didn't have Spanish speaking waiters...

I got home as Wifey was headed out -- early dinner with Maureen and Jeannette at Cheesecake Factory. She didn't come to the funeral on account of she didn't have to, but was sure to remind me I had done a mitzvah. Yeah -- thanks.

I watched the Dolphins prove they were NOT the worst team in football this year -- they have SOME hap while the Jets are hapless. 

And now -- another week is upon us. Barry, Norman, Jeff, and I are signed up for another bible study, as I call it to sound Christian. Actually, it's another of the JLI classes Rabbi Moshe teaches -- Wednesday nights for 6 weeks. My favorite part is pre-class dinner with Norman and Barry. Jeff is typically too busy to join us for that part -- but we enjoy the class, too.

Maybe this time we can glean some meaning of life. Why did the son into whom parents poured SO much die at 43? Why does old age tend to be so awful? Why am I still overweight?

I texted my family that if my funeral ended up somehow being handled by a Reform Rabbi -- grab my coffin and get me into the ground before additional suffering takes place. To me, a Rabbi ought to stay in his land. Yossi ain't quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson as this guy did yesterday. I prefer my Emerson from actual English professors.

And still...no one was saved.

Wifey's Perspective

 My friends call me "Obit Dave" on account of that I always read the obits and enjoy the dark humor of reporting deaths to our group. A game has developed wherein other members of our Canes chat love to scoop me -- happens occasionally. I really like reporting deaths of guys around our age -- reminding all of us that more years are behind than in front of us.

Well yesterday, my friend and broker Pat texted. Our mutual dermatologist, who we both really like, had died. Alysa was 55 -- apparently a very aggressive lung cancer took the non smoker. She did 3 Mohs surgeries on me -- she was beautiful and talented -- the only white Jewish Bahamian woman I ever met.

Really. Her parents were living and working in Nassau and she was born and raised there. When we first met, and I asked where she was from, she said "Nassau," and I said "Me too!" We laughed at the different Nassaus...

She married late and had her only daughter at 43. Her husband, per Wifey the detective, was 20 years older -- a finance/real estate guy. They were VERY successful -- lived in a Gables mansion. I let Mike know -- it was a gut punch to both of us. Mike said he asked her about all the James Bond swag in her office -- turns out she treated Sean Connery for years.

The day perked up. We drove to D2's and spent time with her and Betsy, and then fetched the hilarious and adorable grands. The older one is scary smart -- D2 told him Dad Joke puns, and he got them right away. D1 met us, and we spent a lovely time -- she and Wifey drove to Pura Vida for dinner, and I took the boys home.

Then Mike called. "You thought we had enough sadness today? Not even close." His senior partner Alan's son Jesse had died -- young man was 44. He was a lawyer -- I met him a few times. He married in 2016 and his wife died of cancer at 35. Jesse married again a few years ago. I don't speculate on his cause of death, but it appears to be unnatural...

I can't imagine what Alan and Amy, his retired judge wife, are going through. They were in Europe and flew home. The funeral is Sunday -- I will attend. I never go to funerals because I'm "expected to" like many do -- but I want to pay my respects.

Alan had many leadership roles all over -- a kingmaker of judges, the art world, politics, Jewish causes. Like me, he was a blue collar Long Island Jew. We once spoke for awhile and he told me he barely graduated high school -- he was a BOCES kid, which was designed for vocational types. But he got it done, and big -- he and his partner Abbey went to law school with Paul -- and Alan and Abbey built quite a firm.

In 1990 or so, we referred Mike to them -- he's been there ever since and has likewise enjoyed a stellar career.

Jesse should have had more years in front of than behind him. This is awful. It truly is.

Last night, Wifey saw how down I was. She had met Alan and Amy, but wasn't as connected as I was. She reminded me of the joy of our grands, and Ds -- and really -- as the songs say -- that's life.

Tonight I plan to Zoom cocktail with Barry. Tomorrow there's an early Canes game. I gave my tix to Mr. Kenn -- the affable security guard at Baby Man's temple preschool. He is WAY excited. I will sit with Barry and Josh.

I had tentative plans to see the new Ali G movie with my trainer Jonathan on Sunday. Instead -- the cemetery west of MIA. I ask the Big Man to bring peace to Jesse and Alysa's families.  I know that will be a long time coming, if at all.

Nearing the End of Politics -- At Least the Ads

 So Canes-FSU turned out to be an epic evening. I fetched Joel at 3, was at Mike's rainy tailgate before 4, and acquitted myself quite well with the Absolut Elixx I brought. It was a terrific time -- Matt, accomplished artist and friend Rob's son, told me that after meeting Joel last year at a tailgate, and asking me about him, called Joel for help with a stolen $80K painting Matt did. Joel helped him -- the thief is returning the piece. 

Turns out Joel is one of those lawyers who never told me about this -- Matt did. But it warmed me -- when friends help each other, well, for me, that is awesome. I kissed the crazy Sicilian. I think I ended up kissing several of my friends, given the joyfulness of the party.

The game went into double overtime. After dropping Joel in the Grove, I made it home 1 am! Ah. Big deal for an old man. Early Sunday D1 showed up with her monkeys, and left them while she ran a seminar for one of her many gigs. We offered trips to the park, Barnes and Noble, but these very busy boys exercised, as Little Man reminded me, their license to chill. We took a walk -- a fellow first grader was shooting baskets, and the boys joined him. Little Man proudly told me "He's better at basketball, but I'M older."

When D1 left, Wifey and I collapsed. Turns out kids are a young adult's province. I really feel for friends who might not become grandparents until their 70s -- they're going to need uppers to handle the job.

Other than that, it was a chill week, so far. Political ads are everywhere, and wildly annoying. The most outrageous was an Indian dude in Ohio who put on the estranged Mom of his opponent to say "My daughter's a liar! Don't vote for her!" Man -- Olivia Soprano lives on!

I HAVE been enjoying watching one of the biggest pieces of offal, Omar, squirm. Looks like the evidence will support she married her brother to fraudulently get the openly gay sibling citizenship. DNA looms. I love this.

Wifey and I sent in our ballots the second day after we got them in the mail. Turns out, I followed the Herald's recommendation for US Senate: no one! I didn't vote for the vacuous Moody or the Jew hating and comically inner city sounding nut from Jville. Some friends feel it's acceptable to vote for a GERBIL if it means defeating the GOP. Not me -- not voting for gerbils, especially when they despise my peeps...

The best thing about next week is that the annoying ads will end. And maybe the signs will come down. In my 'hood, our biggest asshole neighbor, the one who always tattles on others about any little thing, has a lawn LITTERED with them. I took a photo and sent it to my friend Gloria -- with the caption "A Taste of Hialeah in Devonwood." Yeah -- I'm a curmudgeon.

Today we're off to some time with D2, and then fetching the grands. D2 has dinner plans, so just the grands and D1 and us. I'm giving my 2 Club seats to Mr. Ken, the terrific security guard at Baby Man's pre k. He's a huge Canes fan, and I suspect doesn't typically sit in the Club. Barry has a seat for me, so if I bring my lazy tuches to the early kickoff, I'm covered.

But I look forward to Wednesday. Basta with the mid terms! Life goes so much deeper than stupid politics. There's travel -- like to Paris! Oh wait...

Game Day and No Just Complaints

 Ah -- lovely week thus far. Tuesday was a banner afternoon -- BOTH Ds and Betsy the daintiest 100 lb puppy of all (the groomers put in tiny yellow ribbons after their last job) and I fetched the grands, and took them back to D2's for post school snacks. D1 headed home for a work Zoom, and we went to The Citadel Food Hall for some delicious dinner. 

As I dropped D2 off, I noted that the real reason any men in the Ds' lives truly found them attractive was because that meant having ME as a father in law. She snorted. I thought a chuckle might have sufficed.

Last night we had our back to Miami reunion with Joelle and Kenny -- relocated Sapore di Mare -- right on Main Highway. As I sat on the bench waiting for them, as Wifey back-walked, it occurred to me that they must be shooting a remake of "Lolita" as the sidewalks were crawling with gorgeous young women. I am indeed the viejo verde I knew I would be...

Dinner was grand -- catching up about the Ds and their 2 Ss, and plans for travel, and twilights of careers. We stopped into a boutique and Kenny and I spoke to the saleswoman -- a Boston transplant who knew the rich guy who has an amazing car collection we visited years ago. Miami is indeed a crossroads of place and time.

And today I go BACK to the Grove to fetch Joel, my date for the FSU game, in his WAY overpriced house in The Moorings. He paid less than $2M for the historic place (old Miamuh lady sold and they beautifully renovated) and now it is apparently worth north of $10M. I love when my friends soar. We plan to hit a few different tailgates, take some nice buzzes to the Club, and watch the Canes dominate -- biggest point spread in the long history of the rivalry. I predict Noles will fight furiously for the first quarter and then succumb to the spirit of Miami U as the fight song say (albeit Miami U is in Ohio -- that always bothered me).

I've been watching these games since 1979. My friends and I, near 5 decades ago, enjoyed drinking in stadium parking lots and then watching great games, whereas now, with many of us on Medicare, we enjoy drinking in parking lots and watching games inside the stadium. Hey -- I often wonder how it wold be if my tastes trended more to opera and classical music, but hey -- what are ya gonna do?

And I just wished a happy FaceBook (tm) birthday to Alli in Tally. She's the daughter of an old mentor Murray, retired Miami Beach Mayor, Dade Sherriff, and Judge, who mediated the majority of Paul and my large cases.

I met Murray over 40 years ago, and always dug him -- old school Miami Beach guy, who, when asked how he was, responded "I have no JUST complaints!" I adopted that -- say it several times per week.

We all have complaints -- some comically small, at least to others. But how many are JUST? In Wifey's family, the Holocaust provided plenty. Nazis killing off most of your family, putting you in slave labor? Yeah -- JUST complaints.

But for we overfed and spoiled Americans -- few, if any, complaints are JUST.

And I ain't got none today.

Go Canes!