Time it was and what a time it was it was...

Old friends, by Paul Simon, always captured the feelings so well of friendships that last through the years. We're not yet 70, like the fellows in the song, but getting closer and closer. Dr.Eric and Dana suggested Dr. Barry and I and Wifey and Donna meet for 2/3 of our birthdays. Barry and my birthdays are 6 days apart, though I'm 2 years older. Since Eric and Dana live in Boca, and Wifey and I are in Miami, we picked Lauderdale -- and Anthony's Runway 84. I've been there about 10 times and love everything about the place. The food is authentic Brooklyn/South Philly Italian, and the decor so campy -- the bar's booths are replicas of jet seats, with the windows showing scenes as if you were up in the air. The pianist plays standards. There are always actual goodfellas and wise guys and their wives or gumars there. The manager is named, what for it...Vinny. To Wifey's consternation, we arrived first, as always, which let me get my Stoli martini drink on. Then Dana and Eric arrived, and joined me in the martini department, and brought my birthday gift: more Stoli. Barry came from a rough week at the hospital, where a child died on his watch. I told him his job chips away at his soul, for all the good he does. I hope he steps away sooner than later. Then Donna came with Josh -- Barry's small son, who is 18 and only 6 1 or so. Next came Scott, fresh from his summer internship at the top sports station in South Florida -- and looking more like an offensive lineman than serious student, which he is. Wifey and I always adored both boys, and Scott was always, as Wifey noted, "oversized." At 4 he looked 8, at 10 looked 14. And now , approaching 20, he is just one impressive young man. I had tipped Vinny when I shook his hand -- just something you do at Anthony's, even when it's not a crowded night. When it is, that gets you in faster, and I WILL be back there. They gave us a table in an alcove, backs to the wood paneled walls, with photos of Dolphins and Joe Willie (like Barry, Eric, and I, the owners are transplanted New Yorkers). We drank, and we ate VERY heartily, and we laughed -- a lot. A few years ago, Eric mentioned to me, after a particularly alcohol heavy tailgate party, that maybe I ought to cut back. Last night Eric acquitted himself quite healthily in that department. I noted he ought to drink MORE. Though he is brilliant -- surely smarter than I am, I know I am correct in this regard. Our waiter was terrific -- pretty sure he was gay, and he told us he was half Jewish and half Italian. Who isn't? One of the specials was the "black grouper." Wifey, as she does better and funnier than anyone, asked many questions about how the fish was prepared. Given the alcohol and happily politically incorrect nature of Anthony's -- Eric and I had a eureka moment, and said at the same time that "Grouper lives matter!" Maybe you had to be there, but it was very, very funny. I know some people get through this life without close friends -- those who lift you when you're down, but more importantly, cheer for you, heartily when you soar. Last night my two brothers of other mothers, sisters of other misters, and large, wonderful nephews all soared and laughed together. As the martinis had their delightful effect, the food was bountiful, Sinatra played over the sound system, and we laughed together heartily, it occurred to me that there might have been better places to be. I was just at a total loss as to where that might be.