El Dia De Los Padres

When the Ds were little, Father's Day always meant one thing: the JCC Camp Jubilee. We'd fight the crowds and go into the big gym, where the JCC staff would greet the new campers, and teach us all that year's camp song. It was always to the tune of something out of a Broadway show, like "Grease." We'd catch up with friends we hadn't seen since last summer, as would the Ds. The Dads would talk sports, and the Moms would talk the gossip about the camp staff. One year there was a doozy -- 2 of the directors had been carrying on an affair, and been spotted together in NYC, on "camp business." These days are long gone. I spent this past FD mostly on the road -- D2 and I finished setting up her Gville house, and returned to Miami. Elizabeth was visiting from Orlando, and later in the evening D1 joined us. She had spent a terrific weekend with her boyfriend Joel's family, in Longboat Key, haven for midwesterners. They ate at the fine old place Euphemia Haye -- I was there nearly 20 years ago, with my old boss Ed. Anyway, we brought in DiNapoli, and ate and laughed and talked. I toasted Elizabeth's father, who died just a few months ago, my Dad, who is gone 30 years next month, and the 2 living Dads in our lives: Wifey's, and ME! Afterwards D1 left for Brickell, and the rest of us watched the Heat game. Our swarthy giants outplayed Oklahoma's crew, and the Heat went up 2-1 in the Finals... So it was a fine Dia de los Padres... Wifey's back is rearing its ugly head a bit less, and she's scheduled to take her first trip in awhile -- to Atlanta, to visit her dear friend Edna. I think the trip will be great for her. The Ds and I will hold down the Miami Base of Operations, as usual. Every day is Father's Day for me.