A Pleasant Commute

I try to leave my office before the intense rush hour, or, if I have to stay later, can usually be persuaded to stick around for an adult beverage before hitting the road.

Today, I left right around 4, and girded myself for some serious traffic, even though the Grove school zones lift at 4, and the traffic isn't at its worst for another hour.

As I cruised South on Bayshore, listening to XM Classic Rewind on the little girlie Caddy loaner (the same as my car but 2 years newer and silver instead of black) , I got a call from a 954 area code, an unfamiliar number.

It was my old classmate and Florida Bar exam roommate.  He had heard about the death of a classmate, and wanted to know if it was indeed so.  I gave him the sad confirmation: it was.  Our classmate Mike died on the 31st .  Mike did defense work and was a triathlete, but apparently failed to do the most important thing in avoiding heart disease -- have good genes.  The fellow who called me was a vegetarian from way back -- he's a bit older than I and started eating that way as a hippie, and I could tell he was both saddened and freaked out -- realizing maybe all those healthy habits don't bring guarantees.

But after we shared the sad news, we talked for the rest of my drive, and it was delightful.  He started out, as I did, doing insurance defense work, and after a few years moved to the plaintiff's side.  He used to do worker's comp, and we referred our cases to him.  Then worker's comp dried up, and he went back to defense work -- this time going in house with a national insurance company.  The work was steady and smooth -- he's been at the company 13 years now.

His oldest daughter was born when we were in law  school.  Wifey used to sit on the sidelines watching us play softball -- playing with the baby girl.  The baby is now an OB/GYN in Ann Arbor, finishing a fellowship.  She's 34.  His son is a lawyer in Boston, and living with a lovely girl.  We agreed that kids who turn out well are far more important than careers...

And then there's the marriage issue -- he was married for 34 years.  His wife was talkative.  One day, he said, he simply couldn't listen anymore, and started divorce proceedings.  His ex wife moved to Maine, of all places, and my old friend has a live in girlfriend.  They live in East Boca, and life is fine.

We shared a few tales of our years together at Miami Law, and some of the characters we met along the way.

When we took the Bar, in July of '86, my friend was a nervous wreck.  He already owned a house, with a mortgage, and a wife and three year old.  His firm made it clear that failing the bar meant no job until he passed.  Wifey and I had bought our first house as well, but Wifey made good money, and there were no kids.  Plus, I guess I was just a sanguine sort of guy.  So I kept my buddy loose and stress limited, with endless jokes peppered into the study week.

Years later, when his boy started law school, in Boston, and I wrote to congratulate him, he gave me a great compliment: he hoped his son found a friend and study partner that made his law school experience as great as I had made his.  I still cherish that complement.

Anyway, I invited my old friend to Trulucks one evening when he's in MIami on business.  I hope he takes me up on it.

Regardless, our talk and walk down the past 34 years made the drive a fine one.