Small Town/Big City

So I fought through the fog of the Bestsy virus yesterday, and took my girlie Lexus to the dealer. They had called about a safety recall -- the device that automatically summons help if the car is in a bad wreck apparently sends first responders to the wrong location. They said they'd provide a loaner, as it was a 3 hour computer download.

I arrived at my typical first appointment offered -- 8 am -- and was directed inside the plush dealership, and given a gourmet coffee. Lexus really does it right. Seated next to me was a very handsome, older lady, also waiting for her loaner car. We struck up a conversation -- somehow turning to marriage, since I'm still bragging to everyone I meet that I married off my second D.

She said she and her husband just celebrated their 56th anniversary. I gave her my usual "Wow -- were you married at age 7 or something?" Women ALWAYS dig that, even when it's obvious blarney. She said she was 75 -- and didn't I think she looked much younger? In truth, she could have passed for 72...

Anyway, she said she was still very active -- she was the long time director of a theater in the Gables, and then it hit me -- I knew her. Years ago, I was referred her daughter by old Kendall friends, after the girl was in a car accident in the Keys while on Spring Break from some Ivy League college. I reminded the lady -- and we both laughed.

The daughter is now 51 and living in LA, with 2 kids. "She got married late." Her other daughter is a corporate lawyer in NYC. Her husband is a retired dentist. Nice folks.

But it struck me -- Miami is such a small town, big city. Our County has 2.8 million people, and it's rare I meet someone with more than 2 degrees of separation. Of course, I've lived here 4 decades now, but still...

Wifey says I just have an amazing ability to see connections among people. The Ds inherited it from me. But I find it a pleasant thing -- especially since I don't engage in financial fraud, whereupon I would have to always be trying to avoid my victims...

Anyway, Nancy and I said goodbye, and I returned home to another day of impersonating a virally infected sloth. Wifey, less sick but also dragging, and I watched several movies, and never left the house, other than my short trip to retrieve my now fixed car, and buy those very soft tissues for my sore nose...

By evening, I was still sneezing, and canceled our invite to Joelle and Ken -- we had invited them over to watch the Super Bowl. I  don't want to be a source of transmitting the Betsy virus to them -- we'll meet them for dinner Tuesday night, instead.

And tomorrow is the Day the Music Died. For us, though, it's also the day D2 was born. She's turning 28, so her birthday falls on a Monday, just like the actual day did.

We may celebrate with both Ds next Friday. Tomorrow Wifey and I may take her out for a small dinner -- her new husband will be at work.

Maybe we'll run into old friends...