A Banner Weekend

When you can surround yourself most of the time we people you truly enjoy, well, I don't know what's better than that. This weekend has been a banner example. Saturday, Wifey agreed to come to her rare Canes game. I explained the seats now have a canopy over them, and so we fired up the little girlie-sized Caddy, and headed to the stadium. We visited our neighbors Hilit and Alex, who tailgate in style, with a custom portable U bar. And then we headed inside the stadium, to the Club level, where Eric and Dana had a table, and we toasted with shots of vodka. Our old friend Pete came by, at first refusing alcohol, until I guilted him into it by saying we were toasting our kids. I always was the kid who got others in fun trouble, and nothing's changed. Another college friend Liz joined us, too, and we saw Paul, and my friend Steve the cop, working there. He had it best -- he was getting paid over $50 per hour to watch our Canes. The team played terrifically. The opponent was weak, but still, our boys were as well coached and fired up as I've seen in a long while. Our fellow alum Mark Richt is now in charge, and we're excited about great things. Wifey drove home, given the lingering effects of the vodka, and I texted D2 -- in Atlanta with her own college friends -- and said we were headed to Denny's. During the years D2 came with me to Canes games, we had a ritual of stopping at Denny's late -- eating a post game breakfast, often near midnight. She texted back, but then I admitted her mom and I were headed for frozen yogurt, instead of Denny's, Sunday I followed Dylan's observation that ya gotta serve somebody. Dylan said it may be the Devil or it may be the Lord. In my case -- it was something else -- my mother in law. After a wonderful breakfast with my man Norman, and 2/3 of his spectacular army of sons, I fetched the old suegra. But before, I learned the news that Michael isn't headed back to Israel for another week -- so we'd tailgate together next Saturday. I told him and Benji that there WOULD be vodka shots. They agreed -- wise young men. Anyway, the old woman peppered me with questions as I drove, forgetting that she was deaf, and if I answered her using hand signals, we'd end up in a Palmetto Bay canal. Whatever. As I said, it was service. Wifey put her to work wrapping the gifts she bought for Paul's 1 year old granddaughter, and after a few hours, I returned the suega to her lovely condo, a place she calls her "cage." Then Wifey and I headed to MIA to fetch D1 and her man Joey, back from a great trip to Spain and London. They were tired but happy, and we left them in Midtown with the spoiled spaniel -- still keeping D2's spoiled spaniel and the strange rescue dog at home with us. From there, it was a quick trip across the causeway to the ancestral land of my people -- Miami Beach. Paul's daughter in law Danielle's parents threw a hell of a one year old birthday party. We celebrated with their wonderful close circle -- we're privileged to be included. The house is on the Bay, and spectacular. Danielle's Dad Bob bought it years ago, and has been modifying and adding to it for years. Being there is like being in a party scene from Miami Vice, except with dentists and lawyers instead of drug kingpins... Today I think Wifey and I will hang around the house and catch up on the second season of Narcos -- a show we both like. Although actual South Americans like the Ds boyfriends find it unwatchable, because the characters' accents are all wrong, Wifey and I don't speak Spanish, so we can't tell. Apparently, for example, Pablo Escobar is played by a Brazilian actor, and has a funny accent -- sort of like if Tony Soprano was played by Andy Griffith. Still, we like the show. D2 is due back to NYC tonight, weather permitting. I look forward to resuming a new ritual we have that's replaced the post game Denny's -- we talk most days during her morning walking commute to work. I feel like I get to live in Manhattan without the actual noise or smell. It's the only way to do it. So football is back, and I'm surrounded by those I love to be around. Pretty fine Labor Day, I'd say...