A (Pause) Mazing Weekend

 So Wifey did some of her nervous pre-gathering puttering -- realizing hours before guests arrived that she needed to rearrange photo frames, plants, etc...but happily went upstairs to get ready, leaving me to reflect in the living room. The caterers arrived, and I had set out the ice and Stoli Elit, and though I thought I might wait for the party, I poured myself one, sat alone in the living room, and let the alcohol do its work -- just enough to give Petty's lyrics more poignancy.

The guests started arriving right around 630, and it was delightful. All ate VERY well and drank as they wished, and later on there were gummies -- I had 2 with little effect -- story of my marijuana life. And as the party was in full swing, and I was a few in and loving life -- well -- I looked up to see Kenny and Joelle -- what the hell were they doing there? They made a special change of planes trip from Maine to be part of the party. I mean -- who leaves a beautiful Maine lake in July to come to tropical Miami? Folks who truly love you is the answer.

So Jeff and Lili were in from CT - though they come home monthly to check up on things and just made it my party weekend -- and Scott and Sam flew in from D.C. I felt like some big shot for whom people travel.

Years ago I learned my name means "beloved" in Hebrew. Turns out...

D1's friends Harley and her sister Alexis tended bar well -- everyone enjoyed their youthful energy. Old friends connected. Laughter was created.

At the cake, I made sure to make faces to "Happy Birthday," to make Wifey, the Ds, and Jonathan laugh. And then I told everyone what was in my heart -- I was the luckiest son of a bitch I knew - and how Saturday proved it. Paul spoke beautifully -- noting how all in attendance were there since they owed me -- not money, but a return on the friendship I had given my entire life.

And Wifey, not one to enjoy public speaking, said how remarkable it was that many there consider my their best friend. It's true. My identities in life are great father, great friend, mostly acceptable husband, and mediocre but financially succesful lawyer. Oh -- and Canes fanatic -- that got mentioned a lot, too.

The last to leave, around 10, were D2 and Jonathan, and Joel and Courtney -- more great tales, and talk of the futures of their wonderful sons.

It was the kind of party that folks like to relate conversations afterward. And Monday, my trainer Jonathan told me how Wifey had cracked up him and his lovely lady Lesley. Lesley thanked Wifey for hosting, and noted how beautiful our home was -- it must be delightful to live in such a place. Wifey said "It is -- and you know -- we USED to be poor!"

Vintage Wifey -- filter between brain speech center and mouth is often porous -- and it's a line the young couple will always treasure.

Sunday we assembled at Chabad -- and Baby Man got a GREAT party with all his preschool friends and their parents. The main building was hosting a community Mitzvah Kitchen event -- 40 folks putting together meals for the poor. I was hoodwinked into sponsoring that, too, and when I wandered in, Yossi had the assembled sing happy birthday to me. 

If you're gonna be hoodwinked -- and it leads to feeding the poor -- well -- that's, I guess, a GOODwink...And so it was.

After D1 came back to the house with the boys, and we plotzed, as they say, so tired from the parties. But Joelle and Kenny texted -- their flight home via Philly was canceled -- did we have dinner plans? We were NOT going to let some fatigue prevent meeting them, after their monumental schlep to Miami, and we had a lovely time at Grand Kitchen -- a spot that held my least favorite restaurant - Planta -- a vegan place. We said so long until the Fall...

Meanwhile, on the other end of the social spectrum -- my cousin Steve's other cousin Stuart is cleaning out his Jackson Heights co-op. He found some of my grandmother Jennie's hair, with a note about her. Not just a few strands -- like a whole mop of strawberry blonde locks. I never knew -- she was always gray to me. My sister Sue and I politely declined his offer to send it to us.

But the message came through -- my cousin, who had no real friends, ended up as dead as the next guy -- as I will, though hopefully without the creepy hoarded stuff.

Through these 65 years, my possessions, such as they have been, are my people -- those nearest and dearest, all of whom gathered SAturday night.

And so I begin my 66th year on this planet as one VERY blessed, VERY lucky, cool rockin' grandpa and Daddy in the USA...