Old is NOT for me.

What a busy long weekend in the 305 and 352! Thursday night Wifey and I hosted a reunion party at Villa Wifey. Over 30 people came, and my partner Paul was the affable bartender.

We talked of days gone by, and politics, and cabbages and kings. The best line came about halfway in to the evening. My friend Pete noticed Paul's girlfriend Patricia, who isn't, um, appearance challenged. She is a former Miss Lima, and that's Peru, not Ohio...

Patricia was standing around looking beautiful, and Pete asked if she lived in our building at UM. No, Patricia, said, she would have been in South America then. "Yeah," Pete said..."somehow I think I'd have noticed if you were my neighbor..."

After the consumption of 80 crepes and a goodly amount of wine, rum, and Stoli, everyone left, happy. The returns and notices were all positive...

The next am I drove to Boca and picked up Dr. Eric. He had been to the party, AFTER trips to watch his golfer son Josh compete in Ocala. Josh is amazing --he's one of the state's top golfers AND keeps a 4.0 GPA. I tell Eric he's essentially Eric, but more athletic and with a better personality...Eric agrees.

We drove to Gainesville for the father/daughter AEPHi weekend. Eric's girl Jen and D2 are members. We talked the whole time --of times gone past, and kings and cabbages. And, we talked about old people -- a lot.

Our widowed mothers are old, as are the majority of Eric's patients. Some are sweet, but most are not. They reach 90 and complain about aches. They insist Eric make them healthy, after 40 years of smoking cigarettes...

As if to certify these thoughts, my ancient mother last night had a toddler-like tantrum when I threw out her microwave oven, after it nearly caused a fire. "No, leave it, it's fine!" she pleaded, as the acrid smoke from its burning electric wires choked the kitchen...

I concluded that old people suck...

But back to Gainesville, the land of the young...Eric and I took our girls out to Leonardos for pizza, and then the the Top for healthy-like dinners. We went back to the sorority house for dessert, which was delicious (these are mostly Jewish girls --food is very important. I'm told the WASPy sororities serve watercress...)

On Saturday, D2 and I went to an art festival in Downtown Gainesville. We walked around, and ended up in the City Square, where we heard a folk band with excellent harmonies, and a blues band, with a fat middle aged white lady who belted out tunes.

Children did cartwheels on the grass, in front of the Bo Diddley stage (he lived many years in Gainesville). The cool breeze was delicious. The sun dappled in D2's hair. She giggled. She was gorgeous. As I told her, if there was a more heavenly place to be at that moment --I couldn't imagine where it was.

The day got even better as Norman and Mike texted me updates on the Canes game --a thriller the Canes pulled out! A perfect Saturday!

Saturday night we repaired to Mark's Prime, a Gainesville steakhouse, with Andrea and Chelsea and their dads and brothers. The dads and one brother (Danny) drank vodka. Somehow the talk turned to marijuana and condoms. Andrea, in true form with a wit drier than the Sahara, remarked "Um, I think this group is getting a little TOO comfortable here..."

Andrea has been accorded full ex officio status in our daughter group...

I hugged D2 outside of her dorm, and went off to the hotel. Eric decided we should share a room, "like old times." It was actually fun. There were no "Brokeback Mountain" moments, at least that I could share in a family blog.

Rather, we laughed, and watched ESPN --and cheered at the Canes highlights...We especially laughted that FSU, despite a new coach and the passing of a decade, still can't escape the curse of the Wide Right...

Dana and her brother Steve met us at a Panera Bread on PGA Boulevard. We chatted about the weekend, and then I left for a memorial lunch for Joyce, my friend Mike's mother, who died 2 weeks ago.

I sat at a table with Mike's high school buddies, and lovely words and poems about Joyce were spoken, as we drank Stella Artois beer. Fred Lewis, a Florida Supreme Court justice, who, like me, is a protege of Mike's father Ed, spoke beautifully about Joyce and her family.

In the car on the way home, I told Wifey I'd like to have a service like that for my mother someday...but my mother seems intent on out living me!

Ah, old people. Youth is where it's at.