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!

And So This is RH - And What Have You Done?

 So this lazy, prone to inertia old guy made 3 separate car trips this week. Thursday evening I drove myself up to Joe Robbie, for the Canes home opener. It was a great time. I prepared by buying a bottle of Zhyr vodka, which I learned from a young tailgater is pronounced like "deer" instead of "er." Turns out it says so on the label.

I got to the stadium, and for a FAMU game -- it was pretty crowded. Mike was next row over, and so I toted the vodka to his tailgate, and met Chris and his old buddy Kyle. After a few, Mike grabbed me in the wonderful way he gets with ETOH (like me) and said there was no place he would rather be. I corrected him: NYE on a luxe ship last NYE watching our boys beat Ohio State was special,too. He agreed.

Barry and Scott and taciturn Sam arrived, followed later by Josh who side told his brother "Dave is already drunk," which wasn't true -- just buzzed. To a young man who wants to be seen as a partier but truly isn't, I guess any inebriation is a thing. It's ok...

Several young inexperienced kids came up to us -- could they eat? One young lady, a 20 something who looked like Phoebe Cates if she was Cubana, explained her friends gathered but no one brought any food. We made her a plate. Later some of her co-horts asked if they could buy some of the donuts. Ha -- we gave them away, and had a classic viejo verde time of it. Had more wives been in attendance, world class eye rolling would have ensued.

The game was as expected -- over by the first quarter. One of our chat group remarked we may be in the presence of greatness. We finished second last season and appear to be better. We waited for the FAMU band, which is worth the watch, and then looked for Eric and his crew -- but they had gone to the Club before the band and back to the stadium as we were leaving. But in the parking lot, we saw neighbors Hilit and Alex, with their D.C. daughter in tow -- Scott and Sam compared South Florida ex pat notes with the Michigan grad. I drove home very happy.

Friday it was BACK to far North Dade for Jonathan's family's erev RH -- another great night. Lisbeth and David are such gracious hosts, and Jonathan's sisters and brother and siblings were in fine spirit. A treat for me is being with Judy, Jonathan's grandmother -- the embodiment of a family matriarch.

She is amazingly generous with all her grandkids, and they fight to be with her -- I noticed both Jonathan and his brother Daniel made her plates of the delicious brisket Daniel's wife Melanie had cooked.

We spent hours, and talked of our pasts in Israel and LI and South America, and Judy proclaimed NEXT time she expected to see D1 and her boys. I told her that would happen at Thanksgiving -- D2 already arranged for the caterer.

Finally last evening it was a gathering at Luna Pasta in MiMo for the boys and Ds and Paul and Patricia. Jonathan was a question, but after a day of Services, he had decided a good pasta dinner was in order.

I sat with the boys, and cut Little Man's steak, and Jonathan taught Baby Man the spaghetti eating method, and it was divine -- I sat at the end of the table, with Paul at the other end, and we toasted -- Paul with non alcohol beer -- we are a couple of blessed formerly rockin' lawyers in the USA.

Today the NON driving beckons. I plan to walk a skittish Spaniel for a bit, and then watch some NFL -- the hapless Dolphins play at 430. And then this evening, my old friend John's show premieres -- an 8 part series based on his memoir of dealing with Saddan Hussein.

I'm more than a bit proud of him -- my buddy since kindergarten who was recruited to the CIA and actually took part in US history.

Tuesday back on the road -- D1 has a biz meet, and asked her sister and me to fetch boys and keep them for a bit -- Wifey has mah jong and will skip that event. Those 2 grandsons. As the Millennials say -- I can't even...

So the Jewish New Year celebration ends tonight, and we slog towards the Day of Atonement. I typically observe the night before, Kol Nidre, but had committed to a night with Chris and Mike -- Chris got us John Fogerty/ Steve Winwood tix, which we will attend following dinner at Anthony's Runway 84. So my fast may start a bit late -- I hope the Big Man forgives.

I will chill and reflect on actual YK. How to be better. What to leave in; what to leave out -- in other words -- what have I done?

Hurt People Hurt People

 Rosh Hashanah draws nigh, as the British Jewish poet might have said. and I ought to be taking stock of my life and relationship with the Big Man, according to Torah teaching, but I have come full circle in my observance of religion, and instead am thinking a LOT about the 25th anniversary of 9/11.

Oh, I'm a proud Zionist Jew, all right, but find the services simply don't resonate with me. I went a few times to Reform services with Eric,and then begged off for years until coming into the orbit of Orthodox, with Rabbi Yossi. Norman was kind enough to invite me a few times to HIS shul, and I enjoyed the fraternity of the event, but, truth be told, I couldn't wait for the talking and chanting to end. It was WAY cool when Norman blew the shofar, and made for many tellings regarding the homophone of the ram's horn, and how different denominations treat their drivers...

Man, what a thing it was 2001. Afterwards, we adopted the same message as Holocaust Jews: Never Forget. We forgot, or at least many of us have.

The Jews took Never Forget and finally got a homeland, one I am proud to say my late suegros helped to found. It's funny, I am FAR more Zionist than my Sabra Wifey, but I understand that if there IS another Holocaust, Big Man forbid, this time the Jews will take tens of millions along with them.

Golda Meir told Kissinger as much when Nixon balked at sending nation saving materiel during the Yom Kippur War. Nixon was a lame duck, oil prices were high, Kissinger explained, and most Americans cared more about oil prices than the existence of the Jewish state. Meir reminded Henry that if the attacking Arabs made it to the gates, Cairo, Damascus, Tripoli, and others would end up in a way that they WISHED they were Hiroshima. Nixon, no lover of The Tribe but a pragmatist, sent the materiel and Israel won.

Israel is the ultimate Fuck You for the Jews. Hate from the Right? Hate from the Left? Saying stupid mean things on Ivy League campuses? That's ok -- Israel's existence says Fuck you.

And in my nation, we ought to have the ultimate FU to Islamic radicals, especially after 9/11. Instead, what they couldn't do with those acts, some useful idiots are allowing be ELECTING leaders who may well ultimately get what Al-Queda sought.

The fake doctor running for Senate in Michigan explained Israel's 10/7 attack by saying "Hurt people hurt people" -- in other words, if you feel oppressed, it's fine to terrorize an Israeli Burning Man and torture and kill women and babies.

NYC's mayor was a boy during 9/11, but his father has said it was ok many times. And the idiot, trying to show he FEELS for the victims, signed a proclamation the other day and then handed the pen to a top lawyer -- who repped the guys who bombed the World Trade Center years before! You can't make this stuff up.

The poor survivor families will be at Ground Zero Friday and have begged Mamdani to stay away. Nope -- he will be there -- repping many of the folks who perpetrated the act! Hasan Piker keeps posters of the burning towers in his office, and NOT as a somber reminder.

I just hope that the DSA and all of their supporters end up being a silly, brief moment in US history.

It's funny -- I sent my Lefty bro in law a funny anti socialist video the other day, a fake Beatles group playing the tune of "All My Loving" with lyrics poking fun at the likes of Bernie Sanders --"I'll give all his money (the capitalist dupe) to you."

He called me and said it was clear I had become a full Trumper. Yeah. Except I revile him, too, and plan on voting for the Dem Rodriguez for Congress and Dem Jolly for Governor. I will NOT vote for the DSA anti semite Nixon for Senator.

But I will not abide "Well ANYONE is better than the Republicans" crap. Not true. I would LOVE to see a centrist Dem, like Andy Beshear, rise like Clinton did to the Oval Office. I guess the next years will tell.

All I know is, hopefully Never Again means Never Again, not "Well the REASON" they did that was...In black humor, it's like the comedian who said Islamicists also mourn what happened "We lost 19 of our best guys!"

May there be peace and true understanding...