And In The End

So Saturday night was a banner one. Eric and Dana arrived at Villa Wifey, from Boca, and Edna and Marc soon followed. Barry and Donna were close behind. We were gathered to Lyft ourselves over to Norman and Deb's for Deb's non surprise party for Norman.

I had helped earlier in the day -- meeting Norman and his Dad Max to get Norman out of the house. As we parted, I told Max I hoped to next see him closer in time than our last meeting. He winked at me as Norman paid the bill -- we knew the next meeting was hours away.

Eric poured martinis, and begged off himself -- he was going to wait for the party. Knowing my brother well, I poured him some Middleton -- premium Irish whiskey -- knowing he would never turn that down. He did not.

So we 8 lifelong friends toasted -- our lives, our kids, hopes for future grandkids. We knew we are a blessed bunch.

At 6 the two Lyfts arrived, and dropped us off at Norman and Deb's stately Palmetto Bay manor. Delicious food was being served. After a bit of fumbling, the young bartender began to serve. Jeff and Lili and Mike and Loni were there -- Mike and Loni have use of Chrisber -- their boy Chris, living at home during law school, serves as their manservant in exchange for free room and board (and tuition).

It occurred to me that my closest college and law school friends were all gathered in one place -- about to honor another of this sacred, to me, number of people.

I met Glenn, a dear friend of Norman's since Gables High, who became a famous DJ locally and moved to Gainesville years ago to teach Rock and Roll and work in radio there. He prepared the night's playlist, which was sublime -- all great 80s tunes. Glenn was D2's professor years ago, and she loved his class. I shared with him a moment that seemed fiction but wasn't: as I drove D2 home from MIA after a flight from GNV, we were talking about the class, and she told me they were studying Punk and New Wave. I looked in our rear view mirror, and as if on cue, saw Iggy Pop behind us on Ludlam Road, in his red Ferrarri. Glen loved the tale.

Norman arrived, and was shocked. Many of the 75 guests thought it was his birthday -- but that's not until the Fall. Deb just wanted to celebrate her wonderful husband, and did so spectacularly.  Sebastian the Ibis was there -- for photos and Canes cheers. Edna's man Marc scoffed -- he thought his USC Trojan Man was the better mascot. Ha. As if!

Barry and Donna were staying the night at a Brickell hotel -- Barry was running his Peds residents graduation on Sunday. Alas -- Donna realized she had left her clothes home in the Pines. Loni came to the rescue -- they Ubered over to the Falls for an emergency shop at Macy's -- problem solved, while we all continued to drink.

Norman passed along tequila shots. I declined -- I learned that adding anything to my wonderful titration of vodka is a bad idea for me. But there was true joy in the house that night.

Barry and Donna shared a Lyft home -- Barry chatted with the wonderfully accented Jamaican driver about the merits of Ford cars. I made Donna a late night decaf. And they were off.

The next day, Deb posted photos, with the message that if there was anything better than spending an evening with close friends like we all were -- she had no idea what it was. Amen and indeed.

I'm always truly amazed at people who sail through this life without close connections.  I truly am.

I just don't see how one goes it alone -- without the support and love of those who truly find you as sacred to them as they are to you.

One sacred man to me, my partner Paul, who wasn't at the party Saturday, agrees. He gives so much of himself to his kids and grandkids, and other kids who have come into his life's orbit. He rejoices at the good times in life, because he knows valleys appear.

So last weekend was a terrific one. The party properly honored Norman, but I was one very lucky Daddy in the USA...