Twenty One

So Josh is my nephew of another brother, and he turned 21 on Saturday.  I thought about maybe taking him for some appropriate adult entertainment, but the Robert Kraft thing has cast a dark shadow, so then I figured politically incorrect humor might be the next best thing.

I fetched Kenny, and we were off to Doral City Place, and really well put together entertainment center off 36th Street. We parked and walked over to Cooper's Hawk, an upscale chain place.  Barry and Josh arrived right after.

We had a men's dinner, and Josh ordered a legal beer. We went around the table comparing memories of turning 21. Kenny was at Wash U in St. Louis, a senior, applying to Med School and knowing he would also join the US Navy at the same time.

Barry was home for the Summer before starting Med School, up in Gainesville -- working at the Movies at Plantation, and getting ready for the next 4 years of study.

I told Josh he was already FAR ahead of me regarding turning 21. My 21st was the worst birthday of my life: 4 days before, my beloved Dad died in my arms.  I know how to really spruce up a party...

But we walked to the Improv, and got seated right in front of the stage. The place was nicely packed -- it was the third night of Andrew Dice Clay's stand.

The opening act was a skinny Irish woman from Philly. She was very funny -- picked on our table as a "sausage party," of "old sausages at that."

She told some pretty blue tales, and when some of the audience groaned a bit, she reminded them that she was only the opener for the Dice man.

And then out he came -- the heavyweight of shock, dirty comedy. And he delivered -- we all laughed very heartily.

None of his tales can be repeated in a family blog, but I was especially happy for Barry. He works in academics -- the height of political correctness. He was once criticized for referring to some colleagues as "ladies."

Dice didn't use the term "ladies" either.

So after much laughter, we deemed the night a success. Josh is 21. He can legally drink. He can do anything, really, except rent a car.

We had a blast -- and he wrote me to thank me and say it was truly a night to remember. Indeed it was.