I prefer to think those sage lyrics are David Gilmour's, and not the anti-semite Waters. It's still an awesome song and album.
Meanwhile, the lead up to my birthday has made my insufferably happy self even MORE insufferable. It's funny -- I always expect the worst, but when that doesn't materialize, I get ebullient. There must be a DSM diagnosis for me.
So yesterday Paul asked me to meet him at His Holiness's office, and he presented the Rabbi with a fat check in honor of my birthday. Yossi showed me a check from Dr. Barry, too, and Young Rabbi Moshe told me Norman had made a nice contribution, too. I was really moved. If charity is done in my name -- well -- that's as good as it gets. And then things got hilarious.
Paul asked the Rabbis and Rebetzin what to do now that our firm seemed to be limping to the finish line. Yossi skipped no beats: "There's always time to include us in your will." Spectacular! It certainly never hurts to ask, and they didn't build the multi million facility they have by being meek.
We then went to lunch, and I got a call from the Dermatologist's office. I had prepared myself for the dreaded message: "You have melanoma," and strategized telling no one at my getty, but knowing I would be entering oncology world on Monday. The Big Man smiled. "My favorite patient -- biopsy is negative -- but DO use sunscreen." This time I was scared straight -- after 2 basals and a squamous -- time to protect before my walks additionally to my hat.
Last night, Larry David finally made me laugh with his new Series. The first 2 episodes -- eh. But last night he played Jonas Salk's VERY proud Queens Jewish mother, and it was LOL for me. "My son doesn't care about clothing -- he cares about HUMANITY!" Funny stuff.
This am, Wifey and I coffee toasted on our balcony, overlooking our amazing home, before the heat and humidity chased us back inside. I opened my email, and was brought to tears by probably the most beautiful email from anyone not my blood relation, ever. I responded to the young man that the weather folks were wrong -- the Canadian smoke DID come to Miami -- which explained my tears. I was moved -- especially when he said he bought a brick at UM and hoped someday my grandsons would show it to their Canes friends. Like Linda Richman, I fanned myself and got ready to go for ice.
But then -- Norman called. He had violated my request for no gifts other than tzedekah, and dropped off a large bottle of Stoli Elit AND a T shirt that said "What A Difference A Dave Makes," which I first heard at the Tartan Army game we attended. I told him both gifts fit perfectly, and gave the ulitmate complement: we could be faygellahs. Straight guys give crappy gifts to each other -- these 2 gifts were ON POINT. Again, I was moved.
I went to our local Kwik-E -Mart with a large cooler, to get a piece of ice (pun never leaves my head since probably 1976). The clerk wasn't the usual Arab guy, but a Cubano -- I told him I needed 10 bags and 5 Lotto tickets. I gave him my credit card, and learned 2 things. First, Lotto is cash only, and second, tickets are now $2 instead of $1. Change happened behind my back! I don't recall the last time I bought Lotto tickets.
Anyway, I popped the $3 change into his tip jar, and told him it was my cumpleanos. He brightened. I walked to the freezer to start the schlepping process, and he said "Senor --esperate!" And he rolled up with a wheeled cart, and insisted on helping me load and unload the ice!
I got Publix/Milam's service from the Kwik-E-Mart. I thought of a Brady Bunch episode where the kids recorded a "Sunny Day" song, in perfect 70s colors and saccharine lyrics.
The song basically summed up my mood. I will be totally UNsurprised if my Lotto numbers come in -- then it will be time to take charity seriously -- like as in full time job.
The Total Wine and Costco deliveries came -- an affable Venezuelan young man and happy Cubano -- I tipped them both as they brought in supplies for a party of 100. We expect 30. Hey -- soda and booze keeps -- T Day isn't too far off...
So each time I get news OTHER than bad, about my beloveds or myself, I savor it. And this 65th birthday is such a time. Hey -- I may even make 66 -- when I can get my kicks...
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