The Last Class

 I have really been enjoying the Jewish Learning Institute (JLI)'s class on Kabbahah, or Jewish mysticism. First, Rabbi Moshe is a gifted teacher -- far more a scholar than his learned Dad Yossi, my good friend. And the material truly has my mind bending -- like last night's lesson, which was whether G-d essentially micromanages the universe, or just created it and let it be.

Turn out, at least the the Chasidic scholarship, to be the former. Most of us, those who think about a Higher Power, see it opposite, if we believe in a Higher Power creating stuff at all. We look at it as if G-d, or The Oversoul, or the Big Woman (Wifey's feminist answer to me when I use the term "Big Man," even though somehow that conjures up images of a circus performer) created the world, and then let it be.

Rabbi Moshe gave the analogy to a carpenter -- he creates a cabinet, and then (unless he's really creepy), leaves the cabinet to its uses -- the carpenter doesn't stand with the cabinet overseeing its every event.

The scholars point out the difference, though. The carpenter didn't really create anything -- he just put together wood, screws, paint, etc...--using skills to put together existing materials. On the other hand, The Big Man created all out of nothingness, and according to their intellectual history, believe that if G-d stops ruling over all for even the tiniest moment -- all of existence as we know it will cease.

The leaf that falls off the tree and turns 5 times before hitting the ground? It doesn't just happen -- it is G-d's plan.

Of course, very often we can't understand the logic or meaning behind what the Big Man does. The Rabbi said let's keep the discussion to the quotidian -- leaving out questions of tragedy. So my brother Norman promptly asked about kids getting cancer, and the Holocaust. I reprimanded him: "He said no using the C word, or H word!" So we had some levity along with the deep thoughts as well.

The other examples were wonderful, too, like ones where one's presence totally changes an outcome in someone's life, even though the "actor" has zero clue what he had done -- he was just there and then.

I thought back to the times of my suegros and my mother nearing death. Sunny in particular -- once she had fallen mostly into unconsciousness, I said to her (coincidentally Chasidic) doctor, Levin, how anyone could say there was any meaning in her life -- she was mostly gone, and starting to struggle for breath.

He answered that EVERY person has a purpose. Maybe a dying relative brings a family together, for example. Well, that surely didn't happen, but my Mom's final days DID trigger in me a deep assessment of the nature of my life and those in it with me.

When my father in law and mother in law were near the end, it brought out a beautiful form of love in Wifey, who would be the first to tell you she's not the nurturing kind. When each finally passed, she grieved organically -- deep, mournful sobs of grief. I saw a depth to her that I hadn't seen since the birth and childhoods of our Ds.

Anyway, I'm actually disappointed that last night was the last class for me. There's one more -- Barry and Norman will attend, but I'll be taking Wifey and some friends to see Stevie Nicks -- a concert rescheduled from September.

The next class begins in January -- and I am now hooked. I think the subject matter is how different scholars answered various issues, and the bases of their conclusions. I don't think it's as profound as the class going on now -- but it gives me an at least weekly workout of the mind -- discussions with the teacher and class members on a level I haven't had since I last taught Religion and Law with Steve Sapp -- and that was well over a decade past.

They say the mark of a good movie or TV show or live performance is that the viewer keeps thinking about it long past the actual viewing. I have been thinking about the JLI class a lot over the past 5 weeks -- I guess that tells me everything about its worth to me.

Turns out learning and discovery really can be a life-long pursuit? It needn't be just political bullshit -- hating Trump, defending Trump. That crap gets to use up less of my mental real estate. I have REAL matters to ponder.

The Retro-Spectascope

 During my first year as a lawyer, I was the briefcase schlepper for my boss Dan during a major products liability case, in which the Plaintiff's lawyer, Carl Rentz, sued a motorbike company (we repped the local store) for a bad design, in which Carl's speeding client was thrown off the bike and killed. This was in 1987, and I still recall it so well since it was the first big case I worked on -- the other lawyer, for the company, was Ben Reid. Rentz is long dead, after an awful set of years in a nursing home following a terrible crash where he, drunk, stumbled down the road near the Tiki Bar in Key Largo and was hit by a car. No idea about Reid. And Dan, my comically anti-semitic boss, is long dead, too.

But when Dad did closing, he coined what to me was a neologism: the retro-spectascope. That was a magical tool by which we could look back in time. Of course, Dan argued that looking through such a tool, no one would ever do something that would cause harm later, but since there was no such thing as this scope...well....how could you blame Dan's client for selling a dangerous motorcycle.

The jury didn't buy the argument. Rentz got, as I recall, a multi million dollar verdict, and this was back when these were big deals. Rentz was a hell of a trial lawyer and made tons of money before he took that fateful, drunken walk from the bar that night.

But I think about the retro-spectascope all the time. I wonder what I would have changed as a husband, parent, friend, and, well, man, had I known how my actions of decades ago would have played out.

When my kids are feeling at all mean, they tell me how they are "amazed" that Wifey and I (fill in the blank) when they were younger. Why did we (fill in the blank) when certainly we SHOULD have (fill in the blank).

Hey, I answer -- what are ya gonna do? We did our best, with our own limitations as people. All I know is, I remain confident that we did a pretty, pretty, pretty good job -- our family remains VERY close. Just last night, I told Dr. Barry about some info one of the Ds shared about her sister, and he remarked: "Wow -- your family is amazingly close -- that's a blessing and a curse."

And he's correct, of course.

I KNOW I messed up a lot with Wifey. I let a raging river's worth of water slide off my back with her, and now that I'm older, and call her out on many of her behaviors, she's understandably befuddled. "Wow. That NEVER bothered you before..." is a refrain I here a LOT from her. Whereas the truth is, things in fact DID bother me, but I chose to, as the line from "Frozen" goes, "Let it Go." Maybe I should have let far less go...

But to use any number of tired old cliches...the past is a canceled check, the past is water under the bridge, and without that retro=spectascope -- ain't nothing to do about our old mistakes.

On the positive side, this all leads to a rarefied place. Judge Murray Meyerson, one of my favorite people, and a true dispenser of life knowledge, used to love to share that mistakes lead to experience, and experience leads to...WISDOM. Ah yes, Mt. Wisdom -- a place where an older person may perch, like a majestic eagle, and know much more than he did decades ago.

I got a lovely call Friday night, on the way home from dropping the grandsons home -- from a dear friend of Jonathan's, thanking me for referring him to a young lawyer for the handling of his case -- the young lawyer, who I'll call Michael, since that's his name, settled what we used to call a "whippie," for whiplash -- a case where the client got no surgery or extensive treatment. By any reasonable analysis, the result should have been in the mid 5 figures. Michael got this young man WELL over 6 figures. And the young man was thrilled.

I got off the phone, and recalled how I used to think referring folks to other lawyers, or doctors, or really anyone, like plumbers or electricians, was no big deal. But I have come to learn it IS a big deal -- when you're rich, as Tevye sang, they think you really know, and my referrals have some weight. So these days, if I am not confident about a referral, I simply beg off. I guess this is some of that wisdom.

So I plan to keep on doing nothing but my best. I shall be judicious with my advice -- not just spout it off like I used to. I will say when I really do know something, and when I am merely speculation.

And I guess, in the years ahead, that damned retro-spectascope will show where I screwed up. It works that way for all of us.

Blowing In The Wind

 So I think I have resolution about a matter of much hot air: my landscaper's illegal use of gas powered leaf blowers (GPB). A few years ago, the Village of Pinecrest outlawed them, and said we must use Electric Blowers (EB) since they're quieter and less polluting.

Last month, I got a warning, that said next time I was caught it would cost $250 and $500 thereafter. Those are some expensive blow jobs, even by South Beach standards...

I wasted time reaching out to our Mayor, who foisted me (love that "Curb" episode) on the Village Manager Yocie, who recommended 2 companies that use EBs, but it turned out they did not. So before TDay, I wrote a snarky, but kind of nice, email to Yocie, letting her know she sent us on a wild blower chase, and could I just be left alone?

She wrote today: I could not. If I got fined and appealed, I would go to a Magistrate, and "probably lose." Well this rich white guy doesn't like to hear that! She said many folks were buying their own EBs, and keeping them for use by the lawn guys at their houses only, and the one the VOP gardeners use costs only $1500.

But wait! I recalled we're pretty good friends with our commissioner Shannon, who happens to be a stunning lawyer, married to a model handsome lawyer. We met them through Joelle and Kenny -- they repped them on a Chinese drywall case -- and have been to dinner several times. I emailed Shannon.

She called me today, and we had a delightful talk. She said the law grew from Covid times, where people working home were distracted by the noisy blowers. Also, GPBs exceeded Pinecrest's noise level allowance, so they could either raise that, or ditch the GPBs. Since no one wants loud parties allowed in our leafy Village -- they decided to ditch the GPBs.

Shannon and Skip bought one at Home Depot, they keep it charged for their lawn guy, and all works fine. And she said the one they bought cost FAR less than $1500 and works fine. So I wrote to the VOP manager, thanked her for her time, and suggested maybe they email residents to tell them the grace period is over, lest they feel discriminated against like I did -- though I couldn't figure out any protected class I belong to.

And then Shannon told me she was running for mayor. Great. Now this WILL cost us, since Wifey and I will support her candidacy -- truth is, she's VERY smart, charming, attractive, and experienced. And...a Democrat -- but not one of the Squad type idiot ones -- one who actually supports Israel and stuff.

We agreed to grab Joelle and Kenny for a 3 couple dinner after our friends return from Asia, and Wifey and I return from our cruise. They're fine company, and we can discuss her race to alcalde (she's also completely bi-lingual -- has Hispanic background, I recall).

So this latest brouhaha (Wifey loves that word) seems to be over. We'll ask Pedro (his real name) to pick an EB out and have it for his use. We comply with the law, Pedro saves on gas...all win.

Speaking of house issues -- the roof company is due to start on our new roof in the coming weeks. They tell me it will take 3-4 weeks. We're changing the look of Villa Wifey from Nouveau Mediterranean to Key West Cottage -- a yellow house with a gray metal roof. I care most about no more maintainence -- hopefully that's the result. And with a new roof, I can get a fire insurance policy again. Yay -- more premium payments.

Ah -- First World problems...