Wonderful Family Weekend

So the friendly Uber driver came to the house, still in darkness, and dropped us at MIA and a breeze through security. Wifey LOVES the Centurion Lounge, and so we went for breakfast -- I begged off, since I knew there'd be breakfast on the plane. Then we were off, and in no time, landed at LGA.

I haven't rented a car in NYC for probably 15 years. It was a major hassle -- especially as they're building a new LGA while the third world one still operates. We had to take a bus to Terminal 3, and only there got picked up for a trip to the Budget office. It took a full hour. But, alas, we got into a Ford Explorer, and were soon making our way to Greenwich Village.

We packed in the Millennials, who were in great spirits, and brought the spirits from a local liquor store, and we crawled through the City to the Lincoln Tunnel and Jersey. From there, it was a trip up the Thruway to New Paltz. We passed Sloatsburg, a town of family lore, as my father used to tell my sisters, and later me, to look out for Sloats. It was a great distraction as we peeled our eyes looking for the mythical, slow moving tree dwellers.

Mohonk was stately as ever, at the top of a hill, and we checked in, unpacked, and regrouped on the lovely patio behind Wifey and my room. We toasted our family against the gorgeous Fall backdrop -- it was chilly but lovely. Then we went for dinner, which was delicious, but I was falling into my soup -- I headed to an early sleep, while the rest walked to a bonfire and s'mores.

Saturday morning we had a feast of a breakfast, but our hopes for walks in the Fall splendor were dashed -- it was a cold, steady rain. Instead, we read, and chatted, and had a family game room session where Wifey pretended to be Bob Costas as she called the progress of foosball round robins -- we laughed a lot and had an awesome time.

Mohonk is like a huge stationary cruise ship -- with much better food. But eating is paramount -- and we had dinner at the smaller, more formal setting than in the main dining room. Afterwards, we sat in the bar while a trio played old Fleetwood Mac and Paul Simon songs -- Wifey and I stayed up the longest.

Sunday it was still damp, but the rain had stopped, and after a quick breakfast, we did a decent hike -- up the mountain to the observation tower. The Ds were impressed at my new found cardio abilities -- I scaled the hike and steps of the tower rather well -- sweating, but not feeling like I was dying. And the view was amazing -- like an old American folk artists view of the lovely village below our vantage point -- the Mohonk House looking majestic across the lake from the tower.

We descended, and walked -- including an ill informed stroll across a soaked lawn that left us all with cold, wet feet. But -- warming them by the fireplace cured that problem quickly.

It was 11:30 and so time again for -- eating. We had our farewell brunch. The smoked salmon, we all agreed, was as good as Russ and Daughters -- our benchmark for fine lox and nova. And then we repacked ourselves into the Explorer, for a longer trip home -- City leaf peepers were clogging the quaint town of New Paltz, and we had to wend our way through them.

It took 2 hours, but we were soon back into the gridlock of City traffic -- even on a Sunday afternoon. I was reminded of how miserable it is to drive in the City -- but soon we made our way South on 9th Avenue, and found a spot to sort of safely park and let out D2 and Jonathan.

Then it was the reverse schlep to return the rental car, though this time it went a bit smoother, and we were soon at LGA in the packed terminal waiting for our flight. I remarked to Joey that El Dorado Airport in Bogota is far superior to Laguardia. I guess if they ever finish the new terminal, things can improve, but the place is tightly packed and filthy.

We arrived back to the heat, and a friendly Cuban Uber driver trip later, were back home.

It had been, outside of our sacred family, an awful weekend. A loser psycho in Pittsburgh killed 11 in a synagogue. Then, we read that a 737 Max, the same model plane we were on, crashed in Indonesia, killing all on board.

I thanked the Big Man for keeping us all safe. And more importantly, for giving us the ability to celebrate our lives together.

The Ds have chosen their men very well. D2 finds it hilarious when she catches them reverting to their native Spanish when talking alone. "Latin men time," she notes.

We all truly enjoy each other's company.

And best of all, D2 and Jonathan are due home in just over three weeks -- for a packed November. First, D1 is turning 30, and hosting a party at her and Joey's new house in Shorecrest. The next day is Thanksgiving here -- we're having a party of 14. Saturday night, both Ds and their men are going to a friend's wedding at a local shul -- we're hosting one of D2's best friends, Ashley, and her boyfriend.

So we have a good deal of more sacred family time coming.

As Wifey enjoys it when I summon the Boss -- I am one lucky, rockin' Daddy in the USA...