Normalcy Under A Cloud

 So little by little we're emerging from the plague, a time of rebirth and happiness, but we're now still under the cloud of the tragedy in Surfside. Today marks day 3 since the rescue began, and it seems less and less likely that there will be any more survivors.

They identified the first 4 victims, and I saw they all lived on the top floors of the building. It terribly stands to reason that those on lower floors have even less chance. It's a gruesome period of waiting -- particularly for our Jonathan's family, who has a cousin still missing -- a delightful young man, just graduated from UF and about to begin his adult life.

The papers have started showing profiles of the missing -- and they're the classic Miami mix: Americans, those from India, and lots of, of course, Latin Americans and those from South America. It's a heavily Jewish neighborhood, but plenty of the victims were typical Miami Catholics and Christians, too -- prayer groups are around of many denominations -- all asking the Big Man for a miracle.

Still -- life goes on -- and last night I was, as usual, easily suggestible. I had read a review of a place on Coral Way, The Mighty, and it had all the markings of a place I liked: good, simple food, and cool drinks, along with a big selection of beers. I don't drink much beer, but enjoy going to a place that sells it.

Anyway -- I put the text out to Norman and Jeff -- would they and their lovely wives care to go? Norman and Deb were sick, and so begged off, but Jeff and Lili were in. So we fetched them and drove over to the Roads -- the area West of Brickell where Wifey's family first settled when they emigrated from Israel and came to Miami.

It used to be mostly Jewish -- the pioneering Beth David was the center -- and over the years the older Jews sold to mostly Cuban families. Now, the older Cubans are selling to mostly gringos again -- the Ds each have friends who have bought older homes and are fixing them up.

And Coral Way has strips just filled with cool bars, restaurants, galleries, and stores. And the Mighty is one of them -- a gastropub, as the description goes. 

Sure enough -- I loved the place. And, Wifey actually ordered cocktails -- two craft jobs with vodka and fruit juice and, I think, activated charcoal. Lili and I had fine burgers -- Jeff and Wifey mahi mahi sandwiches. 

The server was a cheerful young woman -- a rising junior at UM -- from Chicago -- where Jeff's family is from. And Jeff noted the place was Chicago-like -- just a homey local pub.

Wifey was tipsy -- tried to get in the back of the SUV and not understanding why Lili wasn't moving over -- I pointed out she had her own seat in the front. We laughed.

It was a wonderfully normal Saturday night for 4 Boomers.

We got home and I did a dumb thing -- put on the news. Sure enough -- the slog of misery was there -- just the identity of the first 4 victims. Oh boy.

Today we have our homeowner's executive committee meeting -- Wifey is security chair and I am welcoming chair. I need to get the pres and secretary to get me new HOA directories to properly welcome the several new residents who have moved in -- younger families replacing the older ones moving up to North Carolina and Washington State.

At 3:30 we have a Zoom memorial service -- Dana's remarkable grandmother, Trude, who everyone calls Gaga, died at 104. Wow. 104. Tough to even consider living that long -- though my suegra seems to be cruising into 97.

So I'll just savor the good times -- together with people again without masks. But my thoughts about the victims of the collapse will never be far away.