Friday my partner Paul and I found ourselves in a most unusual situation: someone was buying dinner for us. Over the course of our 18 year partnership, we always seem to be the guys picking up the tab. Our generosity has paid big dividends, professionally -- folks want to do business with the big shots, it seems. But Friday was a welcome change.
My neighbor Mark put us in touch with his old boss Dick, a man in his mid 80s still actively practicing law. Dick had a client who was burned by a gas powered saw, and Mark knew my firm had developed expertise in that area, so Dick referred us the case. It took awhile, but we secured a very healthy settlement, and Dick was thrilled with his co counsel fee. He took us all to the Capital Grille for drinks and steaks, and we had a blast talking about our strange and wonderful business of making money after folks are hurt or die.
Saturday I hung with our house guest Elizabeth, in town from Orlando to deal with the sad task of cleaning out her late mother's condo. We talked of life, and death, and cabbages and kings.
Saturday night, Wifey's back allowed her to get out, and we headed down to the Wynwood Art Walk, in, not surprisingly, Wynwood. It's a gentrifying part of town, which means that you step over homeless guys sleeping on the sidewalks to get to hip and trendy art galleries and restaurants.
The event was PACKED, with mostly 20 and 30 somethings, and D1 was busy as a bee giving out samples of cognac. We hung with her, and then went to the food trucks, where we found our favorite: Kitchen Kabob -- a Persian family who grills chicken and corn with spices that are the most delicious ever.
Bands sprang up on sidewalks, and D1 raked in over $160 in tips. Combined with the $112 her employer paid, it was stripper money. Well, for a moderately successful stripper...and without my earing the "F" as a Daddy Chris Rock correctly says a man gets if his daughter really IS a stripper...
Sunday night the culture continued! Dr. Dave and his wonderful girl Shira came over, and we traveled with Wifey and Elizabeth to WDNA -- the public radio studio on Coral Way that hosts concerts. We drank capirhinas, which are kind of like Brazilian mojitos, and listened to a lovely singer named Monica Da Silva. She's half Brazilian and half American, and with a sultry voice. She sang a song that included the line "With a single kiss we opened up a whole new door." That resonated with me, for some reason...
Next was a Brazilian master pianist named Arturo (didn't get his last name, though he's apparently a big macher in Brazilian jazz) and he was a true virtuoso. He played standards with a guitarist, turning Cole Porter songs into Bossa Novas...
We all listened, transfixed. We stopped at Canton on the way home, and shared some sushi and egg rolls while Wifey went to tend to her back.
Earlier on Sunday, we celebrated ancient Mom's 92nd birthday. D1 and I brought the spoiled spaniel, who we snuck into the pet phobic condo. When Madeleine trotted in and jumped onto Mom's lap, she really squealed in delight. It's a true blessing to be able to still bring her happiness.
We met my sister and brother in law for Chinese, only to find that those Chinamen don't serve until later, so we ended up at the go to deli, Gramercy. Afterwards, we went back to Mom/s condo for cake, with a 9 candle and 2 candle. Mom was still able to blow them out.
When we left, she smiled and said that if this was her last birthday, then it was a good one. She truly appreciated each day. We can all learn from her.
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