Avoiding the Crowds

So Wifey and I had an easy  Fourth. We kept company with the three dogs, and I watched D1 and Joey's flight make its way across the ocean, thankfully landing at MIA early.

D2 face timed us from a hammock in Long Branch, NJ, happily exercising her license to chill. Turns out that Bruce was born in Long Branch, and grew up in nearby Asbury Park, which she had visited the evening before. I was jealous -- I have been to Istanbul, but never the Jersey Shore. I will remedy that someday.

I figured a good way to spend the Fourth would be with a military veteran, and I have one friend who has actually been in battle: Kenny. He served as a flight surgeon on the USS Saratoga during the Gulf War, and has Navy battle medals to show for it.

We fetched him, and sure enough, there was a large American flag hanging on his porch. I complemented him on it. Kenny, probably my most liberal, smart friend, said he refuses this idea that those of us who oppose Trump and his crew ought to give up celebrating our nation. I agree with him.

We drove to Little Havana, and parked at Casa Juancho. For some reason, the idea of paella beckoned me on the Fourth.

Kenny had never been there, and Wifey had, but had forgotten about it. I told them my last time there, probably 8 years ago for a reunion of the staff at my last law firm, John Bon Jovi and his wife were there dining on paella and drinking sangria. The Spanish staff were clueless about who they were.

Indeed, the paella was delicious -- they've been making it for like 40 years there. Casa Juancho is old school Miami -- most Cubans my age have had celebrations there. Kenny had a whole fish, which the waiter filleted table side. We were all very happy with the restaurant.

From there, we drove a mile east, and parked along Calle Ocho. We went into Azucar, the great ice cream place, and Wifey pronounced it the best she's had -- some coffee concoction named Abuela Maria.

We next went right next door, to Ball and Chain, a tavern open since the 40s, that hosted the likes of Billie Holliday and Count Basie. About 8 years back, a local guy named Zack Bush bought the run down place and restored it -- they have live music every night.

We had some drinks and listened to a fine jazz trio. But, alas, there was a DJ next, and we headed to the car, around 9.

We dropped Kenny off, and drove home with bombs bursting in air around us -- the roads were delightfully empty, as people were either home or gathered at the various fireworks displays.

Back to the office today, and another get together later -- our young Turk, Vince, turns 40 today.

Summer's here, and it's fine...