Golden Children

So my brother Barry's been spending Xmas week in the ICU, which he still does several weeks per year. His experience this year brought to mind an anecdote I just saw on CNN's History of Comedy, told by Mike Myers.

Apparently Jon Lovitz, the chubby Basset Hound looking guy, is , to many of the greatest comics, the really funny guy. Myers was attending a double funeral with Lovitz: another great comedian, Phil Hartman, had been shot dead by his wife Brynn, who then killed herself. Myers was shaking his head, and said to Lovitz "I just can't believe Brynn killed Phil, and then herself." Lovitz responded "Oh Mike -- you make it sound MUCH worse than it is..."

So is is with my brother's job. The stuff he deals with ...

But on Wednesday, his oldest turned 22, and he came to the 305 with his brother Josh, Mom Donna, and girlfriend Samantha. We all met for a birthday lunch at LOL, followed by some coffee at Brewing Buddha, our local coffeehouse owned by Cassady, who indeed looks like a Buddha.

We then walked around the 'hood, and got to know Samantha, who is bright and lovely, as we expected. She works for CNN and had a phone interview in the waiting, for a promotion. She took the call and it went well. We were thrilled for her.

And after they all left, I reflected on our kids, and how they're seen by outsiders. None of them were raised in poverty -- the opposite, in fact. If they struggled at school, there was a tutor. The kids are all bright and good looking -- people gravitate to them. They have it soooo easy.

Ha. As if. EVERYONE has their own demons, and often the higher achieving one is, the greater the demons.

I thought about last year's two suicides close to home: a hot shot lawyer, and the best surgeon in Miami. Both of those men had it all -- loving families, wealth, careers that soared, and yet their demons brought them to awful ends -- one literally at the end of his rope, and the other inside his luxury car inside his mansion.

Yesterday I met Josh at Shula's. We sat at the bar watching the Canes play the worst I've seen in a long while. And we had the same conversation -- life is a struggle.

I told him I didn't want him to succeed for any reason other than to be able to have "F You" rights in life. That is, when one is supported by and beholden to others, the supporters get to call the tune. When you make it on your own, you get to tell those who would constrain you to toss off. That to me is true freedom.

So the end of 2018 approaches rapidly. After the last weeks, I'm happy to say adios.

Tonight D2 is headed to her fiance's family house in Aventura for shabbat dinner, and then will spend the night with D1 and Joey. D1 got her final clean bill of health today. We sighed relief.

Wifey and I are headed to meet her friend Sheryl and her man Mark for dinner at Il Gabbianno, Italian for "extremely expensive Italian food and worth every lira."  Between them, they have a couple of kids who have battled major demons, and have had some awful repercussions.

I plan to chill well this weekend -- enjoying the final days of D2 in Miami. We opened her wedding account yesterday -- the planning shall now begin. I think it'll be a far smaller wedding than her sister had -- D2 is the type to want to bank much of the money rather than spend it on a party. But it's her call.

I told her that my in laws threw the wedding for Wifey and me that THEY wanted. Wifey and I wanted an informal lunch, maybe at a park. Ha. As if. After years of attending Saturday night affairs of their fellow Survivor family and friends, my in laws were damn sure going to have the same thing for their only child.

We had a fine and memorable time. Pat Travers playing with the wedding band is something we'll always treasure. But it was what Wifey's parents chose.

I told D2 I vowed to never do that -- she and her man need to make themselves happy. I'm sure it'll be easier said than done.

But for today, I'm happy and thankful. The kids are all right. Hey -- that could be an album...