You Have a Cold? I Vould BUY Your Cold!

 I'm lucky, particularly as the grandfather of a kindergartner and pre schooler: I rarely get colds. I checked -- my last one was last May, whereas typically folks get 3-4 per year. My Dad rarely got sick either -- strong immune system all the way until he dropped dead at 63.

Some friends seem ALWAYS sick. It's rare that Jeff isn't on his way to or from a pulmonologist, or internist -- and HIS grandkids live up North. I guess I'm lucky.

But late Friday, I started feeling pro-dromic, as the word goes -- like an illness is coming on. Mild fever, body aches, waterworks, sneezing. By Tuesday, it was full on (after "DTF St. Louis" I can never hear that expression again without thinking of another meaning). I had a rare, important business lunch with Paul and a former client, and I drove up to Houston's -- not shaking hands with my companions, and struggling through it. Back in the day of full working, DayQuill would have gotten me through -- now -- I just got to go home.

Wifey's mah jong crew was assembled, and I made one requested Cosmo, and was asleep by 830. I hid in the library while the cleaning ladies were there Wednesday, and ordered some chicken soup and a tuna sandwich via Uber Eats. I require zero care from anyone when I am sick.

I took it easy Thursday, as the symptoms eased, and today, mercifully, I am all better. Ahhhh. What a relief.

The experience brought back a funny memory of a very eccentric man -- my late father in law. His sense of humor would have made Andy Kaufman scratch his head. Once I was VERY sick with a cold when he visited, and I waved and told him no hand shaking. His response? "Oy -- you have a cold. I NEVER get a cold. I vould buy your cold from you. You vant to sell it????" To this day, well past a decade after his death, I don't understand his humor.

His other gem was when we attended Canton, and I ordered the "special steak," which came flaming, and "vas GOOD steak --- it's soft." The young server would ask if he wanted anything, and he would ask "Your mother. Your father. They're Chinese, too?" The server would glare and say "Yes they are."

I would get up and follow the young man into the back, hand him a $20 bill and explain my father in law was mentally ill -- please forgive him. Hopefully this prevented spittle, or worse, in our shrimp and lobster sauce.

All I know is, feeling crappy is, well, crappy -- even the classic common cold. I DID have a few cocktails last night with Dr. Barry, who has a family member with a far more serious health issue going on -- he needed to unwind a bit from dealing with that.

And tonight, we're meeting Joelle and Kenny at Platea -- the top restaurant in Pinecrest, which is a surprisingly low bar. We have very few good restaurants here -- Joelle proposed a new Key Biscayne place, but Wifey voted no with her arthritis -- could we stay closer?

Indeed, they have prime beef -- very soft. My late father in law would have approved. They also got their liquor license, so I can have a pair of martinis. We will toast to our friends upcoming snowbird flight to Maine -- they'll be there May to September. No wait -- that's a song. They may stay through November, as Kenny turns 65 then and I think he wants his big day celebrated there on golden pond -- which Thompson Lake truly is.

I'm still conflicted about my upcoming Medicare birthday, though yesterday I spent 1 hour and 20 minutes with the affable AARP United Health agent setting up all of my Medicare supplements -- I have been approved! So in June I get to call Florida Blue and tell them they've extracted the final $2200 monthly premium for me. So there.

I thought initialy I might want a sunset sail with some friends, and dinner with the kids the following night. Now I'm not sure. I WILL celebrate somehow -- turning 65 I gotta give thanks to the Big Man for another year on this mortal coil...

All I know is, it sure feels great to not be sick!