All is Quiet on Independence Day

So the weekend started out delayed, as D2's flight was due in Friday around 11. We planned a dinner with Ken and Joelle late -- most unusual for us, thinking we'd spend some time in the Gables and then fetch the daughter. Well, Mother Nature had other plans -- nasty weather in the Northeast closed LGA, and D2's flight was rescheduled for after midnight, due to MIA around 4. After dinner, Wifey and I walked around the newly developed East side of the Gables -- young people everywhere, line dancing in a bar, and drinking coffee at a place called Pasion de Cielo. Wifey got a decaf, and I ordered a defaf latte, and we chatted with a New Jersey transplant (actually she chatted -- saying right away she was divorced, which soon became apparent, as no man I know would have tolerated her unless he was deaf), and then headed for home. I figured I'd sleep a bit and then fetch D2 -- but the non decaf put a stop to that. Ken and Joelle were surprised I didn't simply have D2 cab or Uber it home. Nah -- I really enjoy serving my girls -- and we decided the service DADber runs 24/7. The phone rang about 345, and I drove the deserted highways to a non deserted MIA -- all the delayed flights were arriving at the ungodly hour -- and picked up a very tired D2 (her boyfriend Jonathan waited with her until he Ubered up to his family in Aventura. She had a lovely reunion with her dog and other dog travelers, and Wifey actually was awake, too. We caught up and then went to bed around 6 and slept until noon -- something I hadn't done since my 20s... D1 came over, and we engaged in a silly ritual -- Dad goes along for his thrice yearly pedicure. This tradition started a year or two back, as we all sat on the sofa watching TV, and the Ds shrieked that my feet looked reptilian. Turned out I enjoyed the pedicure --massage chair and the soft patter of the Vietnamese techs laughing with each other as they make fun of, I'm sure, some of the cow-like patrons there -- wondering how in the hell they snagged husbands or boyfriends... The Ds then had a barbecue in the Grove at some mutual friends' house -- Jonathan met them, but Joey, D1's man, opted out. Yesterday D1 came by again, and we had the required visit with the ancient Sabta -- we took her to Lots of Lox, and realized she has begun producing an old lady funk that is not, well, conducive to enjoying one's food. Comical speculation about the precise source of this stink led to much guilty laughter -- Wifey reminded the Ds that she and I would be there someday, and would it be as funny? Yes, I concluded, it would... We dropped the old woman off at the condo, and D2 got ready for a wedding up in Aventura, while D1 was none too happy waiting for her sister. Busy Ds, these -- even on Sundays. They left, and Wifey and I watched old movies -- a silly one I'd never seen, "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" with Sinatra, Kelly, and Esther Williams as the "girl owner" of a team... And today is Independence Day, a holiday I always enjoy. I'm damn proud to be an American, of course, and love to celebrate our freedom with liberal amounts of drink and food. I made a run to Total Wine, and stocked up on a united nations of booze -- vodka from Sweden, gin from England, rum from Puerto Rico, and beer from Boston. We have 16 of us gathering at the Mutiny in the Grove, for a day of drinking and laughing. The Mutiny was the epicenter of wild 80s Miami -- major coke deals were done there, wild parties were had, Latin American intrigue was plotted and carried out. Now it's a nicely sedate condo/hotel, and they have great summer rates -- I scored a 2 bedroom suite for $180. We have reservations at Glass and Vine INSIDE Peacock Park, where they have fireworks at 9. I was reminded why I no longer plan big parties -- already there were whines about "I'm a vegetarian," but I plan to mask all complaints with vodka, and have the laughter drown out any complaints. Mike is making one of his famous drink concoctions, and I bought the two of us early birthday gifts. His day is 7/14 and I'm 7/18. I got us T shirts with a picture of a New Jersey singer, who looks like Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top. He sings one of my new favorite songs, "I don't look good naked anymore" and that's the logo of the shirts. They ought to get some laughs in and around the festivities today... I always think back on July 4, 1981 -- a wild party at my former friend Vince's house in North Miami. We were all in our early 20s and most assuredly DID look good naked. Just not anymore. Still, today we say happy birthday to the best country in history. We owe her a fine celebration.