Shorter of Breath, One Day Closer to Death

So yesterday I turned 51. To D2's annoyance, I keep quoting the great Dave Barry line about a man realizing at a certain age that his birthday is no big deal to anyone, and that age is 11. Still, it's a great time to figure out where I've been, and where I'm going... I spent the day wonderfully. First I had breakfast with my old friend Vince, and we spoke of empty nesterhood, aging, and career changing. We have a history of cracking each other up that dates to 1980, and we were in full and fine form yesterday. Next, I figured I ought to visit the lady who made ALL my birthdays possible, so I headed over to Miami Jewish Home to see Mom. It was remarkable -- she didn't hallucinate at all, and looked well fed and even hale. She had forgotton it was my birthday, but when I pleasantly cross examined her about the date, she remembered. We sat in the garden gazebo there and ate ice cream. Next, I stopped in the office, figured out a couple of issues on cases with Brian and Stuart, and then had lunch with Stu and his Dad Bill. Stu, whose career hasn't been quite as profitable as mine, always tells me how lucky I am. Meanwhile, as I reminded him, he's had his father by his side all this time, and even now they work together. So luck is relative, I guess... I headed home and fetched Wifey, and then we drove to Brickell to fetch D1, D2, and Joel. We headed out to the Palm, which has the best steaks in the city. I had a healthy sized martini, and shared a NY Strip with Wifey. Joel and D2 had never been there before, and were impressed. The place might as well have been in Midtown Manhattan -- top quality, no nonsense food and service. Dr. Eric, who is a pro level photographer and chef, is having us over Saturday, along with Dr. Barry, whose birthday is July 24th. Barry's wife is diabetic, and Wifey is on all kinds of retricted diets as well, so I implored Eric not to bother -- the men could just get together and share some drinks and laughs. He had none of that, and is planning a menu for the persnickety among our number... And so the days pass on, as Pink Floyd sang back when I was in junior high school. The Ds wrote me heartfelt cards, as did Wifey. My name has a Hebrew origin meaning "beloved." They sure made me feel that way yesterday...