When I turned 40, I threw myself a BIG party at Villa Wifey. Loffler's Caterers presented a clam bake -- tons of delicious seafood everywhere -- and a VERY busy bartender. Back then, Paul and I were at the height of our law biz, and I invited referral lawyers, doctors, and our whole staff.
The staff surprised me -- told me to come outside and look up -- there was an airplane flying with a banner that said "Happy 40, Dave." It was the first and only time I had been so honored -- as important as Coppertone!
At the cake cutting, my sister Trudy gave me a beautiful complement which was SO accurate. She said she and her husband, like many, collected things in life -- like antiques, but I collected PEOPLE. It's true. Among things I'm proudest of, it's my long term friendships -- the closest dating back 4 and a half decades. I treasure them.
But alas, some folks (the Ds love when I use that old term -- particularly when referring to someone's parents) fall out of your life -- and that's ok, too. In my case, when I got close to someone, I tended to put a halo above their heads -- imbuing them with qualities that were often not there. And that's ok, too.
In college, I grew close to Vince. We met in the most comical way of any of my friends -- staring at the same girl's ample bosom from either side of her -- in Calculus class (I was still pre-med). I looked up and saw a guy with glasses and huge nose. He looked at me and gave me the thumbs up sign. We instantly knew we were fellow connoisseurs...
He was a few years ahead of me -- grew up in North Miami, Irish Mom, Italian Dad. His father was an Italian version of mine -- same high school in The Bronx, even -- self taught intellectual. Vince, Sr. owned a schmata factory in NYC and ran afoul of some bad hombres -- and Vince recalled being about 9 and being rushed into the family station wagon to drive to Miami for a new life -- his Dad opened a factory in Hialeah. Vince went to FSU and partied too much -- his Dad brought him back from Tally with an ultimatum: bring up your grades, or come be my janitor in the factory. Vince picked Door #1 and did well enough to get into med school.
He met his first wife in my apartment -- Barbara was headed to law school -- lovely and smart young woman from Chicago. The marriage only lasted a few years on account of -- well -- that's not important -- but Vince ended up marrying the nurse with whom he was having an affair -- and having his kids with her. That marriage ended when a prettier and more exotic nurse crossed his path -- separated from an angry Persian man.
The story of our friendship is long and varied, with the loss of all 4 of our parents -- but nurse number 2 ended up being wife #3 AND #4. Our friendship ended when Vince asked me for a big loan to start a pain clinic -- and having been burned by a donut investment from another college friend, and knowing he had paid millions to wife #3, I said no -- maybe ask now wife #4. He said, straight faced "Oh no -- she'll never trust me with money again."
Turned out, Vince was so disappointed in me, he ended the friendship. I found out later, at a lunch with his even older friend Fred, maybe it was for the best. When Fred's wife was dying young, of cancer, Vince was nowhere to be found -- broke his fellow Italian's heart, And later, through FaceBook (TM), I learned from Vince's sister upstate that he sort of abandoned his dying mother, too -- the sister bore the entire load of her loss alone. So probably not a guy to have in my life, anyway.
Another loss was John, who I met when he was a young lawyer and I a clerk the Summer of '85. He was WAY cool -- Southern guy, former USAF pilot, engineer before going back to law school. The firm didn't hire me, but we kept friends -- he jumped from firm to firm, and we handled a few cases together -- one, a blown tire case, he did VERY well on. He also repped my friend Sandy's step dad against UM after they botched the care of Sandy's Mom, Frances.
Much later, John was looking for a landing spot to re-launch his career after his wife died, and he was leaving another close friend, Curtis. I advocated strongly for him to join our group, on account of Stu was smart but comically lazy and needed someone to take charge of the cases.
Long story short: turned out John was lazy, too, and the relationship soured. John found another landing spot -- with a major TV lawyer I called Saul Goodman after the "Better Call Saul/Breaking Bad" character, and stole a major case from us. John became, forever, Fredo to me -- to this day everyone in our circle calls him that.
We ended up having to sue, and a resulting trial lasted most of a week. We got some of the money back, and could have settled for some more, but, as Paul pointed out, I wanted vengeance for the betrayal more than the money -- and so we got to air our grievances publicly. He's probably correct.
Anyway, Robert/Better Call Saul fired John, too, and last I heard John was up in West Palm -- still working in his mid 70s. He had a fraught relationship with his daughter, who I helped get accepted to UF via a key connection I had there, and I wonder whether it's still fraught. I'd bet it is.
Other friends -- well -- over time we just fade apart. Wifey is more blatant in that regard than I am -- with a single exception, she is no longer close with most of her formerly close friends. One she was close with, Elizabeth, died in her sleep 5 years ago -- we just spoke of that sad anniversary last week. But for most -- she had no drama -- just no longer the energy to keep the relationships going more than a few times per year lunch or so.
As usual, John Lennon sang it best, about people in his life: "Some forever not for better -- some I've lost, and some have changed."
I'm not looking to add to my people collection anymore. Nice neighbor couples have asked to get together with Wifey and me -- we politely make sure the dates never get set.
Yet my love for those in my true inner circle remains as strong as it ever was -- stronger, even. And that makes me a very blessed man.
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