Where the Sun Keeps Shining Through the Pouring Rain

I always loved that Nilsson song line, from "Midnight Cowboy," as it so accurately described Miami summer weather. As I type this, returned from my morning walk, that's exactly what's going on outside.

So I continue in my quest of seeking wisdom from others, as I slouch towards the end of my legal career...

Yesterday am I had breakfast with Eric, an old LI friend's older brother. Eric, an architect, was in Miami for a national meeting. I hadn't seen him in 31 years.

We met at Bagel Emporium, and caught up. He's 54, and left LI to attend Carnegie Mellon. He's had a "series of 5 year jobs," in West Va, Vegas, New Mexico, and now back on the Island of Long. He teaches architecture at Farmingdale College. He currently works for the Catholic Church, as their LI architect, overseeing projects.

He's uplifting and happy. We had a great meeting. He plans to retire in a few years, but continue teaching and traveling. He said his secret to avoiding boredom is the constant change --he never kept a job too long for the staleness to set in.

Voila! I knew this, of course, and need to adopt it. My firm is 16, and my law gig is 24. Enough already!

Last night we had dinner with friends, and the husband, who I'll call Charley, since that's his name, has the opposite view of the law thing. He LOVES it! He told me if he died in a courtroom, that would be fine with him.

He's 62, and closing his struggling practice (aren't most of them these days?) to go work, full time, for another firm, to handle their litigation and trials. He'll be taking orders from a younger lawyer (and someone I know and happen to think is one of our profession's biggest assholes, and that's saying something!), and doesn't really care.

Charley will be doing what he loves, and getting paid for it. There's beauty in that, of course.

But not for me...

As I walked this am, I ran into a neighbor I'll call Dr. Bob --again his real name. He was walking Sam the bulldog. Dr. Bob is an 80 something Dermatologist. He goes to his practice each day, to his wife's relief ("I married him for breakfast and dinner, but not lunch!").

I asked him about it, and he says he'll keep going to worki "as long as I like it," which seems to be forever. Again --good for him.

So I just have to find the next job. I joked that I'm going to go work for Pat, our broker who is re-jiggering our finances to keep us out of the homeless shelter until Wifey goes back to work.

In the meantime, today I intend to follow my California sister's lead. She called yesterday from Pacifica, where she's visiting my nephew Henry, and his not appearance challenged new bride, Valerie. I asked what they planned to do, and she said they were "waiting for the iced tea" to chill.

My kind of weekend day!