Halloween

 So in Miami, it seems that about every 5 years, the weather is a bit cooler. I still recall 2005 -- Hurricane Wilma hit us, doing little damage but cutting the power for a few weeks. It was around Halloween. It was SO beautiful that I slept great at night without any A/C, as Wifey and D1 and D2 were up in Atlanta awaiting electricity.

But this year is no 2005. Today is hot and humid. And that's ok.

The grands and their Mom are hosting D1's British friend and her cousin, and their 4 kids. The plan is to show the UK kids their first Halloween. They'll trick or treat in Miami Shores, where several of the streets are blocked off and people really get into the spirit. Hopefully they'll see D2 and Jonathan and the haunted Golden Pyrenees Betsy.

We have some candy, and will place the stuffed friendly Frankenstein's monster out front -- Wifey bought him probably 30 years ago and he spends the rest of the year in the AC closet. He emerges one time per year and sits in a folding chair welcoming any kids.

Years ago, we got close to 100 kids. Lately, it seems, the parents take the kids to blocked off streets. Plus, our houses are one and half acres -- so trick or treating here yields little ROI. Still, we'll keep open the door in case anyone comes by.

My MAIN plan is to watch the Canes at UNC -- we're heavily favored but have a checkered history there. I recall a Halloween party years ago in The Shores -- Canes lost on a last second field goal. I commiserated with my buddy Dave Coulson, he of the tragic, sudden death last year.

Man, did I LOVE Halloween as a kid and into my teens. Long Island Fall weather WAS gorgeous, each year. As a little kid, I recall trick or treating, except for one year when I had strep throat. My neighbor Leigh Ellen carried an extra sack that said "David is sick. Trick or treat," and she brought me a bounty that evening. It was curative...

As we became asshole pre teens, Halloween prep started mid October. We would buy eggs and hide them -- the stores wouldn't sell eggs to kids close to Halloween. We'd also buy shaving cream. At night, armed with our supplies, we would egg the houses of nasty neighbors, and shaving cream any of our female classmates we came upon.

\Nassau cops would patrol, and come up to us and pat us hard, to break any eggs we had in our pockets. One year, when I was, I guess 14, we saw the cops coming up a Seaford street. I looked and saw that a streetlight base was missing a cover, and so I stashed my eggs there, and passed the pat test. When I went to retrieve them, I got the literal shock of my life -- threw me back 10 feet. I guess the rubber soled sneakers saved me. I learned first hand a lesson about electricity and not getting stupidly near it.

High school was fun parties -- sometimes with literal garage bands, and later, with fake IDs, visits to Rum Bottoms, or the Rusty Nail, local taverns.

College Halloween went to another level. I recall several really fun parties. One year, my cousin Janet, who was at Broward College, hosted a costume party at her apartment near campus. My friend Vince and I spent the day at my parents' condo, and then dressed as Siamese twins in a diaper, with baby bonnets and plastic baby bottles. After we met some young ladies, it was time to rip the diaper and separate. We got lots of laughs...

Tomorrow we'll head up to see the Grands, and hopefully Tia D2 and Tio Jonfin as well...Maybe we bring in some early dinner.

November starts our family's busy season. The kickoff is D1's birthday near TDay, and Wifey's birthday shared with the famous guy from Israel -- not Bibi. NYE, and then our anniversary -- 40 years coming. Little Man turns 7 -- his day is a week before Wifey's.  And we consider the end early February -- D2's birthday. It's truly our busy season.

Wifey's birthday is a milestone this year, and she has made clear I am NO longer to mention her age or the fact that Eisenhower was in office when she was born in Haifa, especially since I wasn't born until JFK was in the Oval Office.

But the celebration of both the milestone birthday and our 40th will be on the European seas -- Barcelona to Lisbon, with Donna and Barry. Barry long thought that his children's hospital would collapse if he left for more than a week. Thankfully he now realized the folly of his loyalty to them.

But for now -- 2 words: Go Canes! Next week we're hosting a watch party for the game at Notre Dame -- nice if we go into that still ranked #1.

Rabbi MacKenzie

 So great music trivia: Paul McCartney wrote "Eleanor Rigby," and was going to name the pastor Father McCartney, but was talked out of it by George Martin -- and so it was Father MacKenzie who was wiping his hands as he walked from the grave. No one was saved...

Yesterday Paul and I met at a coffee shop across from the cemetery where we were to attend the funeral of the 43 year old lawyer -- the son of Paul's UM classmate and someone I know quite well. I was dreading the piercing mourning of someone taken so young -- but then -- reform rabbi!

I first developed bad feelings for these guys right before Wifey and I got married. A fellow I'll call Rabbi Kram, since that's his name, had sucked pre-Wifey and I into the whole "you need more Jewishness in your life" pre marital counseling thing,and then dipped on us for a free trip to Israel the week before our wedding. D2 loves when I tell the tale with "But I thought we was partners!"

It remained -- a Bat Mitzvah in suburban Atlanta where the ponderous, self important guy went on for over an hour; a rabbi telling a bunch of us that golf on shabbat was ok as long as you "thought about the meaning of the sabbath", another bar mitzvah that never seemed to end, and an ultra liberal, be afraid of Covid girl rabbi who ended up herself being a super spreader since she didn't think her husband's COVID was something she should have mentioned to 200 wedding guests.

So yesterday, the fellow, who apparently knew the decedent's sister, but not the decedent, went on for nearly 2!!! hours as people were packed under a pergola -- actually going so far as to repeat what the people who spoke had just said! My friend Barry has long noticed that many academics seem to truly love the sound of their own voices -- this rabbi was world class in that regard. But as a result, the ponderousness of it seemed to dull the grief -- not too many tears were shed.

As they were sliding the casket into the mausoleum, Paul and I walked away -- and found a Venezuelan Chinese place. It was funny -- both his family in Philly and mine on LI often ate Chinese Sunday evenings -- tradition preserved -- though the NE places didn't have Spanish speaking waiters...

I got home as Wifey was headed out -- early dinner with Maureen and Jeannette at Cheesecake Factory. She didn't come to the funeral on account of she didn't have to, but was sure to remind me I had done a mitzvah. Yeah -- thanks.

I watched the Dolphins prove they were NOT the worst team in football this year -- they have SOME hap while the Jets are hapless. 

And now -- another week is upon us. Barry, Norman, Jeff, and I are signed up for another bible study, as I call it to sound Christian. Actually, it's another of the JLI classes Rabbi Moshe teaches -- Wednesday nights for 6 weeks. My favorite part is pre-class dinner with Norman and Barry. Jeff is typically too busy to join us for that part -- but we enjoy the class, too.

Maybe this time we can glean some meaning of life. Why did the son into whom parents poured SO much die at 43? Why does old age tend to be so awful? Why am I still overweight?

I texted my family that if my funeral ended up somehow being handled by a Reform Rabbi -- grab my coffin and get me into the ground before additional suffering takes place. To me, a Rabbi ought to stay in his land. Yossi ain't quoting Ralph Waldo Emerson as this guy did yesterday. I prefer my Emerson from actual English professors.

And still...no one was saved.

Wifey's Perspective

 My friends call me "Obit Dave" on account of that I always read the obits and enjoy the dark humor of reporting deaths to our group. A game has developed wherein other members of our Canes chat love to scoop me -- happens occasionally. I really like reporting deaths of guys around our age -- reminding all of us that more years are behind than in front of us.

Well yesterday, my friend and broker Pat texted. Our mutual dermatologist, who we both really like, had died. Alysa was 55 -- apparently a very aggressive lung cancer took the non smoker. She did 3 Mohs surgeries on me -- she was beautiful and talented -- the only white Jewish Bahamian woman I ever met.

Really. Her parents were living and working in Nassau and she was born and raised there. When we first met, and I asked where she was from, she said "Nassau," and I said "Me too!" We laughed at the different Nassaus...

She married late and had her only daughter at 43. Her husband, per Wifey the detective, was 20 years older -- a finance/real estate guy. They were VERY successful -- lived in a Gables mansion. I let Mike know -- it was a gut punch to both of us. Mike said he asked her about all the James Bond swag in her office -- turns out she treated Sean Connery for years.

The day perked up. We drove to D2's and spent time with her and Betsy, and then fetched the hilarious and adorable grands. The older one is scary smart -- D2 told him Dad Joke puns, and he got them right away. D1 met us, and we spent a lovely time -- she and Wifey drove to Pura Vida for dinner, and I took the boys home.

Then Mike called. "You thought we had enough sadness today? Not even close." His senior partner Alan's son Jesse had died -- young man was 44. He was a lawyer -- I met him a few times. He married in 2016 and his wife died of cancer at 35. Jesse married again a few years ago. I don't speculate on his cause of death, but it appears to be unnatural...

I can't imagine what Alan and Amy, his retired judge wife, are going through. They were in Europe and flew home. The funeral is Sunday -- I will attend. I never go to funerals because I'm "expected to" like many do -- but I want to pay my respects.

Alan had many leadership roles all over -- a kingmaker of judges, the art world, politics, Jewish causes. Like me, he was a blue collar Long Island Jew. We once spoke for awhile and he told me he barely graduated high school -- he was a BOCES kid, which was designed for vocational types. But he got it done, and big -- he and his partner Abbey went to law school with Paul -- and Alan and Abbey built quite a firm.

In 1990 or so, we referred Mike to them -- he's been there ever since and has likewise enjoyed a stellar career.

Jesse should have had more years in front of than behind him. This is awful. It truly is.

Last night, Wifey saw how down I was. She had met Alan and Amy, but wasn't as connected as I was. She reminded me of the joy of our grands, and Ds -- and really -- as the songs say -- that's life.

Tonight I plan to Zoom cocktail with Barry. Tomorrow there's an early Canes game. I gave my tix to Mr. Kenn -- the affable security guard at Baby Man's temple preschool. He is WAY excited. I will sit with Barry and Josh.

I had tentative plans to see the new Ali G movie with my trainer Jonathan on Sunday. Instead -- the cemetery west of MIA. I ask the Big Man to bring peace to Jesse and Alysa's families.  I know that will be a long time coming, if at all.

Nearing the End of Politics -- At Least the Ads

 So Canes-FSU turned out to be an epic evening. I fetched Joel at 3, was at Mike's rainy tailgate before 4, and acquitted myself quite well with the Absolut Elixx I brought. It was a terrific time -- Matt, accomplished artist and friend Rob's son, told me that after meeting Joel last year at a tailgate, and asking me about him, called Joel for help with a stolen $80K painting Matt did. Joel helped him -- the thief is returning the piece. 

Turns out Joel is one of those lawyers who never told me about this -- Matt did. But it warmed me -- when friends help each other, well, for me, that is awesome. I kissed the crazy Sicilian. I think I ended up kissing several of my friends, given the joyfulness of the party.

The game went into double overtime. After dropping Joel in the Grove, I made it home 1 am! Ah. Big deal for an old man. Early Sunday D1 showed up with her monkeys, and left them while she ran a seminar for one of her many gigs. We offered trips to the park, Barnes and Noble, but these very busy boys exercised, as Little Man reminded me, their license to chill. We took a walk -- a fellow first grader was shooting baskets, and the boys joined him. Little Man proudly told me "He's better at basketball, but I'M older."

When D1 left, Wifey and I collapsed. Turns out kids are a young adult's province. I really feel for friends who might not become grandparents until their 70s -- they're going to need uppers to handle the job.

Other than that, it was a chill week, so far. Political ads are everywhere, and wildly annoying. The most outrageous was an Indian dude in Ohio who put on the estranged Mom of his opponent to say "My daughter's a liar! Don't vote for her!" Man -- Olivia Soprano lives on!

I HAVE been enjoying watching one of the biggest pieces of offal, Omar, squirm. Looks like the evidence will support she married her brother to fraudulently get the openly gay sibling citizenship. DNA looms. I love this.

Wifey and I sent in our ballots the second day after we got them in the mail. Turns out, I followed the Herald's recommendation for US Senate: no one! I didn't vote for the vacuous Moody or the Jew hating and comically inner city sounding nut from Jville. Some friends feel it's acceptable to vote for a GERBIL if it means defeating the GOP. Not me -- not voting for gerbils, especially when they despise my peeps...

The best thing about next week is that the annoying ads will end. And maybe the signs will come down. In my 'hood, our biggest asshole neighbor, the one who always tattles on others about any little thing, has a lawn LITTERED with them. I took a photo and sent it to my friend Gloria -- with the caption "A Taste of Hialeah in Devonwood." Yeah -- I'm a curmudgeon.

Today we're off to some time with D2, and then fetching the grands. D2 has dinner plans, so just the grands and D1 and us. I'm giving my 2 Club seats to Mr. Ken, the terrific security guard at Baby Man's pre k. He's a huge Canes fan, and I suspect doesn't typically sit in the Club. Barry has a seat for me, so if I bring my lazy tuches to the early kickoff, I'm covered.

But I look forward to Wednesday. Basta with the mid terms! Life goes so much deeper than stupid politics. There's travel -- like to Paris! Oh wait...

Game Day and No Just Complaints

 Ah -- lovely week thus far. Tuesday was a banner afternoon -- BOTH Ds and Betsy the daintiest 100 lb puppy of all (the groomers put in tiny yellow ribbons after their last job) and I fetched the grands, and took them back to D2's for post school snacks. D1 headed home for a work Zoom, and we went to The Citadel Food Hall for some delicious dinner. 

As I dropped D2 off, I noted that the real reason any men in the Ds' lives truly found them attractive was because that meant having ME as a father in law. She snorted. I thought a chuckle might have sufficed.

Last night we had our back to Miami reunion with Joelle and Kenny -- relocated Sapore di Mare -- right on Main Highway. As I sat on the bench waiting for them, as Wifey back-walked, it occurred to me that they must be shooting a remake of "Lolita" as the sidewalks were crawling with gorgeous young women. I am indeed the viejo verde I knew I would be...

Dinner was grand -- catching up about the Ds and their 2 Ss, and plans for travel, and twilights of careers. We stopped into a boutique and Kenny and I spoke to the saleswoman -- a Boston transplant who knew the rich guy who has an amazing car collection we visited years ago. Miami is indeed a crossroads of place and time.

And today I go BACK to the Grove to fetch Joel, my date for the FSU game, in his WAY overpriced house in The Moorings. He paid less than $2M for the historic place (old Miamuh lady sold and they beautifully renovated) and now it is apparently worth north of $10M. I love when my friends soar. We plan to hit a few different tailgates, take some nice buzzes to the Club, and watch the Canes dominate -- biggest point spread in the long history of the rivalry. I predict Noles will fight furiously for the first quarter and then succumb to the spirit of Miami U as the fight song say (albeit Miami U is in Ohio -- that always bothered me).

I've been watching these games since 1979. My friends and I, near 5 decades ago, enjoyed drinking in stadium parking lots and then watching great games, whereas now, with many of us on Medicare, we enjoy drinking in parking lots and watching games inside the stadium. Hey -- I often wonder how it wold be if my tastes trended more to opera and classical music, but hey -- what are ya gonna do?

And I just wished a happy FaceBook (tm) birthday to Alli in Tally. She's the daughter of an old mentor Murray, retired Miami Beach Mayor, Dade Sherriff, and Judge, who mediated the majority of Paul and my large cases.

I met Murray over 40 years ago, and always dug him -- old school Miami Beach guy, who, when asked how he was, responded "I have no JUST complaints!" I adopted that -- say it several times per week.

We all have complaints -- some comically small, at least to others. But how many are JUST? In Wifey's family, the Holocaust provided plenty. Nazis killing off most of your family, putting you in slave labor? Yeah -- JUST complaints.

But for we overfed and spoiled Americans -- few, if any, complaints are JUST.

And I ain't got none today.

Go Canes!

The (Sort of) Busy Week

So after a weekend of supreme sloth-iness, today starts a week of increased activity. Wifey was actually impressed by the sheer amount of football I watched the past 2 days, especially given that the Canes had a bye week. But there were a LOT of good college games, and I felt duty bound to watch the Dolphins' comical awfulness yesterday. On our group chat, Mike deemed the Fins game "unwatchable" and said he was going out to do yardwork in the heat and humidity.

Today I walked with Lemon, our now one eyed Spaniel, and then caught a nice nap to "Mayday: Airport Disasters." Wifey came in and acknowledged I SHOULD watch -- lest some emergency crop up during our flights...

We meet old friend Jeannette this evening at Platea. I feel a bit guilty -- it's Columbus Day and we SHOULD have Italian -- but Jeannette has never been and will love the place. It may have replaced Chisty's as our go-to nice restaurant, now that they have a full bar.

Tomorrow I plan to meet D2 and fetch the grands/sobrinos, and maybe take them over to The Citadel for dinner. They LOVE it there -- cool food hall with some of their favorites.

Friday we have a reunion dinner with Joelle and Kenny -- returning from their beloved lake house in Maine for the season. This year they have a wrinkle, though -- back up there for T Day. Kenny turns 65 and wants to celebrate at his happy place, and that's Thompson Lake in Maine, though it may be frozen by then. I like making big deals on milestone birthdays -- and this is one for my dear friend. We really DO need to celebrate on our own terms -- something I have learned over the decades after several incidents of wanting to make everyone in my orbit happy. My 65th in July was precisely the way I wished it -- I know the Norman Rockwell surroundings for Kenny will be sublime, too.

And then Saturday -- well -- Noles game! Canes are favored by a historic margin -- 23.5 points, and hopefully they live up to the prediction. My date the past few Noles games has been Joel -- my crazy Sicilian friend. I told him we need to be in the parking lot no later than 4 pm for the 7 pm kickoff.

Two years ago, Barry learned the perils of arriving too late. I think he had some work to do and got there a mere 1.5 hours before kickoff -- no spots left! He ended up driving all the way home to Broward and earning a place in our Canes group Hall of Hilarity...

And Sunday, D1 drops the boys here -- she has an event in South Miami -- I am sure she will suggest some "activities" for the hours they will be here. Little Man already understands that when he is here he has a license to chill -- Baby Man will be inducted into that fraternity as well.

I read another of the many articles I read on retirement the other day -- probably Forbes, or Motley Fool. The writer reminded us all that we think we all have MANY years to enjoy retirement, assuming we do it at 65. The overwhelming number of people, however, really get until the mid 70s, if lucky, to have the physicality to do lots of things.

Wifey and I have seen it, even on the "old people" trips we take -- like Euro River cruises. There are few, if any, folks in their 80s aboard.

So I savor these days and plan to keep on keepin' on -- so long as the Big Man decrees... 

Another Wifey Scare

 So Tuesday Wifey seemed to be doing better from her flu -- took 2 doses of the anti-viral to shorten the course of the disease. I ordered in Takee Outee -- our go-to Chinese delivery place with the name clearly pre-dating political correctness. I set up dinner -- Wifey had gone outside to putter, and I thought to myself, maybe not the best thing to do with the flu and the "feels like" temp nearly 100 degrees.

But she came in, and had some wonton soup. I joked how little had changed since our days of a-courtin' - we would often bring in Canton takeout and eat just like we were. Wifey put her head down: "Soooo tired" and then her head went down face forward and she was OUT!

I ran over to her -- I am good in a crisis -- and saw she was breathing -- but she was un-rousable. Her eyes opened at one point, and I thought to myself -- well -- this time crap is real. I called 911 and got a Pinecrest dispatcher -- he asked my address and the problem, and as I was explaining the emergency Wifey awakened. "Who are you talking to?" The dispatcher heard everything IRT, as they say, and I canceled the call. Oh boy -- I aged a good 10 years.

I helped her to the couch, and got her Gatorade and a protein bar. D2 called from a walk, and then Barry -- I conferenced them in. Barry knew I had a newfangled blood pressure monitor, and had me check Wifey's -- it was a bit low, but not dangerously so.

I joked that he was a pediatrician called upon to practice geriatrics. Wifey found no humor in that.

But luckily she recovered, and now, 4 days later, is mostly recovered from the flu.

Later that evening, Barry FaceTimed me and I got MY treatment -- several ounces of frozen Ketel on big cubes. Scott joined our FT on his commute home. It was wonderful -- he has so many great things going on, and will be here for a week to pre-celebrate his 30th.

I plan to host a watch party for Canes at ND, and the following Saturday Barry is catering a big tailgate for the Duke game. Scott loathes Duke -- so it should be a great day at the stadium.

This weekend we have...nothing. I plan to watch some good college ball -- Bama and Georgia, for example -- Canes play FSU NEXT Saturday.

We missed out seeing the grands because of the flu -- hopefully we get a day this coming week. Monday is Columbus Day, but school is in session. I was reminiscing with D2 -- in NY, Columbus Day was ALWAYS a big holiday because of the large Italian population.

I've been reading a lot, though, that Columbus was probably a converted Jew. That would make sense to the Jew haters -- he could be seen as the first Jewish colonizer! Oh what a world...

Anyway, I booked dinner for Wifey and I to take out her friend Jeannette Monday for her 70th. She's never been to Platea, a place we really dig -- prime steaks and great ceviche. I plan to toast her -- she is SO sweet and nice.

But thankfully, I get to make plans like that, instead of what I thought I would be dealing with last Tuesday -- I still have PTSD from Wifey's stroke adventure back in January of 2021.

Yep -- turns out marriage is, to borrow from Dylan, often shelter from the storms of life. I hope we don't have many more of them for awhile.

Nurse Dave

 So Little Man awoke at our house Saturday, after coughing overnight, and told me "Grandpa Dave -- I'm sick." Indeed, he felt very warm and I took his temperature -- 101.9. I brought him downstairs to let everyone else sleep, gave him some tea and turned on cartoons, and he asked "Can you bring Bo (the special needs Spaniel) closer to me? Dogs comfort us when we're sick." It cannot be gainsaid how much I adore this boy...

Anyway -- at home he tested negative for flu and Covid, and thankfully a few days later is right as rain, but Sunday am Wifey announced SHE was sick -- high-ish fever, coughing, etc...She was better yesterday but today had 102. I know enough medicine to know that was likely not just a cold, and so I went to my trusty at home flu/Covid test kit from Walmart. com, and, alas, she tested positive for Flu A.

I called our doc Rigo since Wifey had no strength, and he called in a scrip for Tamiflu for her -- and told me to take it prophylactically as well. No wait, I said (he's a great, easy audience) -- Wifey and I haven't needed prophylactics for decades! After the laughter, he said even though I got the flu shot last month and was asymptomatic -- take the Tamiflu, one pill per day for a week. 

So after my workout, I visited the TWO separate Walgreens, and loaded up on marital Tamiflu. Hopefully Wifey recovers in a few days and I avoid getting sick. It is indeed that time of year -- D1 said several First Graders in Little Man's class tested positive for Flu A. So there it is...

I am keeping Wifey fed with Daddy eggs (just plain scrambled eggs which I whip into a frenzy) and tea and will order in some Chinese soup later.

So Paul and I were discussing retirement -- we read an article that said most people figure they'll do it at 65 and have decades to enjoy. Ha. Not so fast. Even the old people trips Wifey and I take -- river and luxe ocean cruises -- ain't many 80 somethings on board. So the truth is -- really just until the mid to late 70s is what you get in "full health." So I think I made the right call in slouching towards the end of, as Norman calls us, a mediocre law career...

Truth is, my plan was always to leave Law early. In fact, I figured I'd build a war chest from 25-40 or so, THEN get married and start a family, and teach English as a new Dad. Instead, I was married when I started the law biz, and got to be an academic dilettante by teaching 2 years of Freshman Comp, and 2 Law and Religion classes with my friend Steve, an ACTUAL academic.

And I realized something. Teaching isn't just sharing one's wisdom with students. You have to do stuff like GRADE PAPERS, which sucks. If I had to teach to make a living, I would do it - but given the luxury of not having to do it -- I lazied out...

Same with writing. To be a true writer, as Saul Bellow said, one must apply the seat of one's pants to the seat of one's chair, in front of a typewriter (it's an old quote) and keep it there most of the day! Again -- actual work. I had plenty of that.

So for now, I get to care for an ailing Wifey -- hopefully just until the end of the week. We're avoiding the Ds and grands -- lest we spread A or B or whatever...

And now, I hear the faint calls of Wifey -- time for more tea...It's a privilege...

A Tale of Four Jewesses

 I was reflecting last night about a friend who turns 70 this week, along with 3 other women. One is a few years older -- the other 2 also turn 70. They are a case study in what a difference a partner makes.

All 4 were blue collar Jews -- one grew up on LI, the other 3 in Brooklyn. One never finished college, the other 3 did. All 4 are classic "nice, Jewish girls" who have nice hearts, and treat people, mostly, well. Coincidentally, each has 2 daughters.

In the BIG blessing Department, one has 4 grandkids, one has 2, one has 1, and one is, alas, fated to have none -- other than, maybe, step grandkids which is a very different animal.

But 3 married men who did VERY well career-wise. Three of them live in 7 figure, or near 7 figure, or multiple 7 figure houses. Those travel wherever they wish. They lack for nothing, materially. Some host gatherings, doing all the cooking, and some cater everything, or in one case, pay for a caterer to host elsewhere.

But the one who married the fellow who never made it is the one I was thinking of. The poor fellow was a hard worker, but no head for business. He had good jobs, but a never ending desire to own his own companies, which, sadly, ended in bankruptcy and debts still due and owing after his death. This friend works full time, still, and comes home and totally takes over child duties from her daughter and son in law, both of whom work hard, too.

Despite this, she is VERY grateful. She was a dutiful daughter to 2 loving parents, both of whom have passed. But she buried them knowing how much she cared for them -- making sure their final years were comfortable.

I contrast this with adult kids who were poor caregivers. Sometimes they claim to have no guilt, but I don't see how. But I digress.

Anyway, I have offered to take this friend to a really nice dinner, along with Wifey. Wifey and I take grand restaurants for granted. Our friend is more of an Outback/Cheesecake Factory sort of person. Money is always an issue -- I told Wifey I thought it would be nice to take her to a truly fine place, to talk of days past, present, and to come.

So perhaps that gets set up -- I will follow up to see it does.

If you come from family money, the choice of partner is less acutely important -- you are rescued even if you pick a loser. But for those without that safety net -- the choice is crucial.

I saw a video the other day. I'm still not sure where they come from -- I guess some algorithm picks what I see. It was an attractive and clearly wealthy young Mom who said "People say I only have what I do since it's from my husband. Yeah -- no shit. It's MY fault I picked a winner and not a loser? Haters -- tell YOUR man to work harder."

On the opposite side of things, I also reflect on an old friend -- a fellow who never really made it as a lawyer. He worked for a bank, and then opened a firm where, despite affecting wealth, barely made it. He and his wife had a 2 bedroom townhouse in West Kendall. Nothing wrong with that at all. They divorced, and then...

He ended up the boyfriend of a VERY rich divorcee. The pix on his FB went from Epcot to ACTUAL Paris. When I run into him, he is always dressed amazingly -- he always WAS a fashion sort of guy. At one function, where I was there in my standard jeans and untucked shirt, he sniffed "Wow -- now I KNOW the dress code for events here -- I thought something more formal was required."

Old Dave would have chuckled and let it pass. New curmudgeonly Dave retorted "Yep -- guess I need to have my lady take me shopping next time!" He didn't find that funny and walked away.

But good for him! My successful buddies and I who did great killed ourselves, or nearly, doing it. 40 hour work weeks? 80 were standard in my 30s, 40s, early 50s.

The smarter move is moving into it, like a hermit crab.

But happy 70th to a lady with a very warm heart, no envy, and "good energy" like the Californians say. Hopefully we get to celebrate her later this week...

Adios, Bitches

 The New York Times. A newspaper that was REVERED in my house. I just finished canceling my subscription online -- it will end, maybe fittingly, on Halloween. The Gray Lady has become the anti-semitic bitch.

Our neighbor across the street, Big Jimmy Perota, was a shipping clerk for the paper. He was a Daily News reader, himself, but used to perform a weekly favor: VERY early on Sunday mornings, he would drop off fresh copies of the paper on the doorsteps of several neighbors: us, the Paikens, the Goldsteins, and the Larkins (later the Cunninghams). If I happened to be up before 6, I would see him walk house to house, followed by the loud thud of the big paper on the stoops.

Everyone would bring Big Jimmy bagels or other baked goods to thank him. He was a nice, macho Italian guy. To his horror, his first born, Little Jimmy, came out as gay. When the Ds were small, I took them and my sisters to NYC for a family bonding trip. We stopped by their house. I asked Big Jimmy about his 3 sons,and when he got to Little Jimmy he said "He's doing...what he's doing." I adopted that phrase as my own for describing something about a person I would rather not reveal...

My Dad would read the paper covers to covers. When I got into high school, the smart kids enjoyed the Monday Times, for its expanded Sports Section. We would share it, as I recall, in Bio 13 -- our proto-AP class with no AP exam.

Wifey and I got the Sunday Times, too, for years, and did the traditional bagels, coffee, and Times mornings -- first as POSSLQs and later as marrieds, and later as young parents. Ah -- no one recalls POSSLQ. It was an abbreviation for "Persons of Opposite Sex Sharing Living Quarters." The US Census Dept came up with it as that became more common in the 70s. Calvin Trillin wrote a poem about it, too: "Won't You Be My POSSLQ?"

Later, I switched to digital, where you get a year real cheap and then they up the price to like $30 per month. I had it on autopay, and read it daily, but over the past years, the bias became too much for me.

I ain't no Republican, but reading praise of putzes like Platner in Maine, The Squad, or the fake doc in Michigan became too much for me. Kristof had a particularly odious Op-Ed, and I sort of blew it off. And then yesterday...

I read about the heroic thwarting of the near suicide crash of the FlyDubai plane by Israeli passengers and an amazing Indian pilot. The Times headlines made it sound like a little cockpit tiff between employees -- totally leaving out little details like the Omani co pilot shouting Alahu Akbar, for example, as he tried to kill the Captain and crash the plane.

A new favorite of mine, the Babylon Bee, a satiric site, had a list of famous NY Times "Headlines" about past events. Pearl Harbor, for example, was reported as "Japanese Tourists Visit Hawaii."

Yeah -- like all great satire -- on point.

So I think Dad would have understood. Although unabashedly Liberal, he was a staunch Zionist. The two, sadly, seem incompatible these days. Maybe the DSA will die, as MAGA will, and I can become a Democrat again.

For now, I'll hunt and peck for my news. The Herald is a joke -- I often see local stories, particularly lurid tales, on out of town publications days before the pamphlet Herald prints them. But I'll keep that subscription -- for sports scores and obituaries. I have to check the latter daily before I head out to walk or the gym -- why worry about healthy habits if you're already dead?

I used to laugh at the Righties talking about "Drive By Media" and think Fox was the absurdity. It often is, but the Times is really little better with their bias.

So after Halloween, adios NY Times. Hell, for the past 10 years, the Wall Street Journal was better, anyway.

Debbie Downer Meets Negative Nancy

 So I awoke early this am to see a really yuuuge (as Wifey pronounces it) local story: the best billionaire we've ever had, Ken Griffin, gave the largest gift in history to a university: $3 BILLION to Carnegie Mellon. The previous record was a paltry $2B from Phil Knight to his alma mater Oregon. $2B B of the gift is to build a local campus of CM in Wynwood -- construction to start next year, and enrollment in 2028. CM is very prestigious -- some of its undergrad programs more highly rated than the Ivies, and a campus like that so close to Downtown will be a gamechanger.

Griffin has donated millions like so many nickels and dimes -- UM, Baptist Health, Nicklaus Childrens, Museums, Schools -- you name it. He moved his company here after complaining to the Chicago government that his employees kept getting mugged. They laughed at him. Well, he took his large ball and went elsewhere, and Miami has benefited immensely.

I don't know Griffin. The closest connection was a few years back -- a young couple was house hunting here -- the husband was on Griffin's team. I chatted with him about the 'hood, and our public schools, which was tone deaf of me -- the higher ups all send the kids to Ransom and Gulliver using spots Griffin bought for them. The house they were looking at was listed for $2.5M. Ha! Schlepper-ville -- they went far more upscale than our little schtetl.

And good for them. I love to see people soar. So many love to see people crash -- filled with envy for the very successful. I used to understand that. When Wifey and I bought our first house, for $86.5K, I remember going to the Grove one Saturday, and seeing a specialized Ferrari. A buddy I was with, who knew cars, said that it cost well over $100K. I was scandalized! How could anyone buy a car worth more than my house! Who would NEED such a vehicle? Yeah -- I was a typical socialistic thinking idiot.

Now when I see a truly exotic car, which I probably COULD afford, I joke to Wifey: "Wow -- if I had it MY way, I would drive a car like that instead of my Buick SUV!" She rolls her eyes. Truth is, I have zero desire for a high end vehicle -- but I applaud the guy who bought it!

I had a chat the other day with a family member who still sees things the way I did at 25. She said billionaires should be killed. I reminded her she was due for a 6 figure inheritance, and to a truly poor neighbor, she might as well be a billionaire -- should SHE be despised for her good fortune? "I guess not."

The article in the Herald had some negative comments about the coming campus -- satellite schools are frauds, Miami is "culturally broken." For bringing in a world class center or learning and research?

Yes, I have learned one truth in life: losers are better at a single thing than winners: blaming others and the "unfair world" for their low stations. They are also good at seeing themselves somehow above the fray in the quest for filthy lucre. They're too artistic. Too cool. Too concerned with the issues of the world.

Yeah, whatever. Send us MORE Ken Griffins to make life better for everyone here. I hope his company Citadel continues to soar. I couldn't care less about his politics, which unsurprisingly lean Right. 

The other day our neighbor Elizabeth left her driveway with the usual rumble of her high powered Corvette. She's my age and told me the bright red car was her "mid life crisis" gift to herself. She stopped and we chatted above the engine's sounds. She was wearing shades, and I told her she looked like she was making an MTV video from the 80s. Turns out a woman in her 60s likes to hear that.

As she drove away, I was so happy for her -- she and Bob worked hard, raised their 3 kids, and now are blessed with 2 grandkids, born a month apart to their daughter and daughter in law. And she's out looking fine, and feeling fine. Good for her!

I joked the only downside to the new campus was the loss of the Wynwood food trucks. I'm sure they'll still have them. And the site, Mana Wynwood, was where my buddy Norman put on a tux some years back and acted as ring announcer for some boxing matches there. It was a great night. I rented a limo, and took several friends. Afterwards we went to dinner at the Italian place on the roof of Club Elevenn, which came with admission to the upscale gentleman's club. Our friend Diane's then boyfriend John, a blue collar Boston guy who had made it big in construction, was gobsmacked by Elevenn. "I'm a Vietnam Vet and Southie, but have NEVER been to such a place." Yes -- memorable night.

So great news for my beloved city, and I am proud and happy about it. As for the naysayers, I always think of the sage words of the Irish poet Brendan Behan. He hit it big in America, and went back to Dublin, where his favorite pubkeeper told him some of the locals begrudged him all of his success. As the true wordsmith he was, he had a classic response: "Fuck the begrudgers!" Amen.

Gringo Democrats

 So we've had a busy weekend here in the 305. Thursday we fetched the boys at their schools and enjoyed an evening with them at D2 and Jonathan's house. Friday there was a fun Zoom with Dr. Barry, and Saturday I overcame inertia and drove to Joe Robbie for the Canes.

The game was a laugher -- Canes dominated Central Michigan -- but it was nice to tailgate with Norman and his boy and bros, and then catch up with old friends at halftime at the Club. I was home to watch the final minutes on TV.

Sunday we drove to D1's house on our way to Paul's birthday dinner, which was called for a place called Alma at Gulfstream. Jonathan was at a corporate box at the Fins game, but D2 joined us for a non- child visit. Turned out - Alma was closed, and we were re-directed to Fuego in NMB, but on the way, Paul called and said Fuego opened too late on account of Succot, and to come to the Williams Island Grille instead -- and to call Donna and Barry to let them know. A text came in from Danielle and Alex, which I assumed was just a confirmation of the re-locate to the Grille, but Donna read it. No Grille after all!

We all finally mustered at Abbale, a "Tel-Avivian" restaurant hard next to the Aventura Mall, and it was terrific -- Paul's son and daughter in law and their 3 kids, Barry and Donna, Patricia, Wifey, and me. Paul turned 76 -- but, alas, there were no trombones at his big dinner.

Yesterday the fun (and alcohol) continued. Shannon Del Prado, our new mayor, invited Wifey and me to Captain's Tavern for a thank you to her supporters. Wifey declined on account of she didn't want to go, but I drove to the Tavern recalling they were closed on Mondays. They WERE, but opened for the private event -- probably 60 gringo Democrats enjoying an amazing spread of seafood and lamb chops and open bar.

I chatted with some old lawyer acquaintances, and Cindy, a former Pinecrest Commish, whose brother lives across the street from us. She reminded me her daughter Kate, who lives in the Shores, is friends with D1 -- the kids often get together to play.

My law school classmate Dave's older brother James was there, and we had a great talk. James was a special agent for the FBI, and then to law school where he was a federal prosecutor before going into private practice. He is CONVINCED the Dems are winning control of Congress and the Senate in November and that Trump WILL be impeached and indicted. I guess we'll find out sooner than later.

I told him I agreed that our local congress seat was going blue again -- the incumbent, a Trumper, abandoned him on account of his deporting her family, and she is now as lonely as Elian was in the inner tube. Interesting politics ahead.

The rest of the week is mostly chill. FRiday we grab Little Man for the evening -- to be returned Saturday before a 3 pm activity. That actually works out well as the Canes play at 730 pm, so I can watch the game -- biggest so far this season.

And somehow, the final quarter of 2026 is nearly upon us. The cliche is the years moving faster and faster, and this one sure has. Today we got an invite to a new event, the "Devonwood Holiday Cookie Bake" at our neighbor Melissa and Dave's house. Alas, we are leaving the day of the event for Spain, and so will miss it.

The plan is to bring in Wifey's birthday a few days early on a luxe cruise with Donna and Barry --their first trip to Europe! I also joke that it celebrate's "Wifey's 40 th anniversary," to which she asks, on cue, "MY anniversary?" Well, you know -- the wedding thing sort of WAS her idea...

But before then, we get to see the boys for Halloween, hopefully, D1 is hosting her British friends and their kids -- first Halloween for them. We'll probably leave a bowl of candy out front near the Frankenstein monster soft sculpture that is as old as D1.

But my favorite looms next: T Day. Les the Caterer is available, and we shall feast and celebrate D1's 38th!!!! How did THAT happen?

But the best part of the Miami year is starting soon -- the humidity is even bearable. I plan to savor that on the walks...

Bad News On The Newsfeed

 So Monday night, after I indeed fasted, Wifey and I watched an installment of my friend's series about Saddam Hussein. Another episode followed, but I was tired and decided to go upstairs and watch in bed. First I stopped by the office desktop to check the status of my notary stamp (it came yesterday). And I saw awful news: former Fox News producer Jennifer Eckhart had killed herself on Saturday.

We knew her well. Wifey's good friend Diane was VERY close with Cindy, Jen's mother, and years ago we  socialized together. Jen was a college freshman at Auburn, transferring into UF, and was bubbly and excited about her career as a journalist. Cindy and her husband Jim moved to Martin County, and Jen got a series of better and better jobs -- ending up at Fox as a producer for major reporters.

I used to take jabs at Fox on her FaceBook (tm ) page until she called me one day, laughing, and told me that while my comments were hilarious -- cut it out! It was her JOB. Well -- turned out her boss Ed Henry was dipping in the company ink. Jen reported him after a 5 year relationship. Fox fired Henry and Jen sued -- 5 years later she settled with Henry, her case against Fox was dismissed, but the money was big enough to let her buy a luxe condo in Hobe Sound and start a podcast. She seemed on top of the world.

I saw some of her work -- interviewing Billy Corgan, and a Navy Seal -- all about turning trauma into a positive. She attended, in the words of the Eagles, "all the right parties." She had a handsome, finance bro boyfriend. She seemed on top of the world.

Apparently, though, there was a becoming undun, as the Guess Who sang. She got arrested for Domestic Violence against the boyfriend when he split from her. She had several Baker Acts. And then, per the accounts, on Saturday Cindy found her in her master bathtub -- she had used a knife to end things. I recalled Frankie Five Angels in II. Awful.

Wifey called Diane -- she hadn't heard. She and Cindy hadn't spoken in years -- a breakup over a design build job at Diane's Grove condo. But we were all sickened. How does a Mom come back from that? I have zero idea.

I emailed Barry about it, and he suggested a FaceTime (tm) cocktail last night. It affirmed for us a most odious character flaw we have: perspective. Whatever our silly problems -- well -- not a hill of beans. Unfortunately, many of our loved ones who want sympathy sometimes find us cold. I guess it's something to work on in the new Jewish new year.

Meanwhile, early today I saw one of my TWO eye docs -- the one who lasered shut a retinal hole. All looked great, but he said I was probably a year from needing cataract surgery. What??? That's old people stuff! The young eye doc, who I've known since he was in high school, and whose Mom took care of D1 for gut issues, will be the one to do it. I guess I'll put it off until the night driving truly becomes a chore -- then it will be time.

Again -- a gnat of a problem. Barry and I agreed we flirted with the idea of skipping Saturday's Canes game in lieu of our comfortable sofas -- Wifey declined her invite, and I kind of don't like the 90 minute round trip drive solo. But Barry pointed out -- we could well become like Howard Hughes -- hermits in our nice digs.

I shared that with D2, and she said "Who is Howard Hughes?" Oh man -- we ARE dinosaurs...

May young Jen's memory be a blessing. I texted Cindy -- I don't expect a response -- but just wanted to tell her we were thinking of her. Yeah -- probably a good idea to avoid the news...

Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word

 So today I am spending Yom Kippur NOT in shul, as the Sages would prefer, but at least by fasting and reflecting. I am abstaining from food to hopefully connect with my soul, and higher powers. And I am asking forgiveness.

It's funny -- so many find apologizing to be near impossible. I received an email today which PURPORTS to apologize, but doesn't -- it has disclaimers -- "but..."

A true apology is "I''m sorry I did what I did, or said what I said, and I hope you forgive me." And apology is not "I'm sorry -- BUT YOU WERE AT FAULT, TOO." That's not an apology -- that's an explanation or justification -- why bother?

But today I truly have said  I was sorry. I followed another tradition -- took some bread to my pond and cast the crumbs into the water -- casting away my sins. The fish and turtles, turns out, really LIKE that tradition.

Wifey found an online service from NYC's Central Synagogue. It is SO Reform! The rabbi spoke about anti-semitism, but mostly the kind that comes from the Right. I chuckled -- clearly he didn't read or listen to Alan Dershowitz, who explains that Jew hatred from the Right is TODAY -- and no young people listen to Tucker Carlson.

But from the Left, it comes from academics -- the teachers of our future leaders, who are indoctrinated into thinking Israel is evil, and while wearing blackfact is unacceptably offensive, wearing Shylock face, like the fake rapper did -- well -- no big deal.

The Central guy sang "This Land Is Your Land." The Seeger song is great -- I sang it as a kid in East Broadway chorus. Who knew it was part of the Yom Kippur service?

Well -- it's nearly 2 pm. Sunset is after 7. I think I may UberEats in Takee Outee to break the fast. I look forward to regaining eating -- a major joy of the flesh -- and let the spiritual side of things rejoin the physical.

I had my first talk with someone I had hardened my heart to, on account of the person is such an abject idiot. This talk -- just listening -- no correcting -- no matter how absurd the words.

Years ago, when Wifey and I had great strife over the absurd demand by my suegros that I give them money for a condo "on de vater," the strife ended with a session with Wifey's therapist, Arlene. She agreed I was totally in the right -- how dare my inlaws make this absurd demand? But, to buy them the condo, knowing it would someday come back to their only child, would be amazingly KIND.

The lesson was it was more important to be kind than right. And so we bought them the condo -- and I noticed my suegra NEVER even looked out at the lake -- she kept the storm shutters pulled down all the time. But it brought peace to Wifey -- the kindness worked.

I guess that is a major YK lesson.

I ask the Big Man to inscribe us into the Book of Life. Turns out -- this life thing is pretty exquisite.

Back In The Chai Life

 So after a day "just for me" today there is some action. My late Mom used to say that all the time -- to our great amusement. She was a retired widow for years, but would still say "tomorrow is JUST for me." We used to ask her exactly what days WEREN'T for her -- she could do whatever she wished. But she enjoyed having the sense that she had obligations -- she indeed volunteered at Delray Hospital each Friday -- amassed thousands of hours. It still cracked us up.

Young Chris bought his Dad Mike and me birthday tickets for tonight -- John Fogarty with opening act Steve Winwood. I've seen Fogarty three times, and so am actually more excited about the former prodigy from Spencer Davis Group to Traffic to Blind Faith to an amazing solo career. His "Back in the High Life" came out in 1986, when I graduated Law School and was about to marry Wifey. We would often dance to it in our tiny first house, playing over our then new technology CD player.

Norman had bought tix for him and son Benji, and we were all going to meet at Anthony's Runway 84, but Norman realized tonight was Kol Nidre, erev Yom Kippur, and so ditched his tix. He is a better Jew than I.

I thought about it, realized I wasn't going to services anyway, and so will have my last food and delicious trayf before sunset, and then do my reflecting and disavowances while listening to the musicians. I hope the Big Man understands.

I will give silly Jewish themed names to the songs played. Back in the Chai Life. Can't Find My Way Back to Shul. Fortunate Yid. Proud Yossi. I will keep these to myself, even though we learned, to our great humor and amazement, that Chris is halachically Jewish -- his maternal grandmother never told anyone she was the daughter of Polish Jews who fled the Nazis and wanted no further tensosity in life. Marcia is still alive, 90, and probably being sent back to Miami from Atlanta.

Mike's BFFs are mostly Jews, too, and Chris married Rachel -- we're going to the Baby Naming for their new daughter in a few months.

I don't suspect Fogarty or Winwood will annoy us with any Palestinian bullshit. Pretty sure Winwood tends to the Conservative, and Fogarty is too savvy to make enemies. Just a great American and British songbook hopefully awaits us -- bellies filled with best red sauce Italian South of South Philly...

And then tomorrow I plan to observe YK -- probably online services, and hearing the shofar blow after sunset. Wifey and I were invited to a few break fasts, but are taking pasadenas. We'll either Uber Eats in or go to a local place,

I really DO have stuff to work on in the new year. I continually annoy myself when I am "authentic" with some folks who completely can't handle it -- and there is zero reason to continue that. So, as much as I may hear complete nonsense -- my goal is to cheerlead and be nice and a sounding board -- no more exasperation with the less than sophisticated.

Also -- kinder. That never hurts, though as I become older, crankiness creeps into my soul. Gotta keep it at bay.

But one thing I won't change is my jealousy and protectiveness of my greatest richness: my time. I may have plenty of money, but each day I have less time, and to quote the Brothers Allman, my goal is to live by "Ain't Wastin' Time No More."

Doing nothing -- surfing the internet or sitting by my pond, on my terms, isn't wasting time. Sharing my time with idiots is -- I plan to cut down on that.

So the ultimate atoning and stock taking for my People begins tonight. I plan to take it to heart, even in my extra shul way.

Remembrance Of Things Past

 For me, madeleine cookies don't trigger memories -- it is often Canes football games. Mike and Jeannine just texted from the 305 and 407 -- they're on their way to catch flights (Chris is going with Mike) to RDU and then rental cars to Winston-Salem for tonight's Canes game at Wake Forrest. It recalled for me a lovely college tour trip we took -- now close to a decade ago.

Amanda and D2 were juniors, and thinking about college in either UNC or Duke. I think I came up with the fine idea of a college tour trip "coincidentally" while the Canes were playing at Duke. I mean...why not?

We flew to RDU and toured the 2 campuses. It's funny -- D2 and I preferred UNC -- less douchy than the "hotter" private school. Probably part of the charm was our tour guide -- a flamboyant Theater Major who made references to shows the girls loved. The things that you recall from campus tours...

That night, we visited an icon in Raleigh -- the 42nd Street Oyster Bar. It was sort of their Joe's Stone Crab, but much cheaper and accessible. The waitress saw our Canes swag and told us her son was coming to Miami to play for the Canes basketball team. Julian Gamble had a serviceable career at Coral Gables, as I recall..

The Canes dominated Duke the next day, as I recall, and we flew home happy. I think D2 got waitlisted at UNC, but jumped off the list when she got into UF -- truly her first choice. Amanda opted to put more distance between herself and doting parents -- she went to USC and still lives in LA. We went out a few years back for her wedding to Daniel. I have a feeling that, like so many ex-pat Miamians, Amanda will make her way back East -- probably if she is blessed with babies...

Turned out UF was very good to D2. She kicked butt academically -- first in our family to make Phi Beta Kappa, which she still jokes was a bigger deal to me than it was to her. She is incorrect -- she and BFF Cathryn were both inducted as JUNIORS -- I flew up to Gville for their ceremony and dinner afterwards.

Most importantly, D2 met her besheret, Jonathan. I'm not saying I really dig him, but maybe during a drunken Sunday MAY have said that if they ever split up -- we keep Jonathan. Ha. I was joking. That same inebriated day I told D1 that I loved her, but now it was all about her boys. So silly the things alcohol brings out...

I think Mike's goal is to see ALL this season's Canes games. He already attended the farthest -- Stanford for the opener. He has plans to go to Clemson and Notre Dame. I always had a minor life goal of seeing a ball game in every MLB stadium. I think I've been to 10 or so, but I'm so old, several of the stadiums have since been replaced: Milwaukee, Minneapolis, and both Mets and Yankee homes. Oh well...maybe they keep Fenway.

As I reflect on tonight's game, which I will lazily watch on my sofa, maybe with an adult beverage or two, to celebrate my NORMAL BP reading at the doc's yesterday, I also think about how little choices affect the entire arc of one's life.

My first choice for law school was UF. I loved UM a lot, but after 4 years thought a change might do me good. But it was only one year post Dad's death, and my Mom still needed lots of help with the practical aspects of life -- finances, insurance, etc...I knew Gainesville would make that tougher to accomplish, so I took out close to $30K in loans (UF would have been far cheaper) and enrolled again at Coral Gables.

Well -- I met MY life partner, the long suffering, champion eye roller known to her grandsons and now the rest of us as "Ippi." And as the 2 of us discussed yesterday, as we shared a classic alter kocker day of trips for her to TWO doctors and lunch at a bagel place -- what a life we have been blessed to build together!

Who knows who I may have met at UF Law? The Ds always joke about classic Boomer names you never see anymore: Debbie, Susan, Robin, Julie... Yeah -- I probably wouldn't have ended up with someone with a biblical name.

Barry was all set to attend Duke, instead of UM, in 1980, but UM came through with a nice scholarship, and so he headed South instead of North. His boys, who are like sons to me, and I often wonder how HIS life would have turned out. I tell them they would have likely had uncles of other mothers just the same -- but they would have been FAR douchier than the ones they have now.

So today I have lunch with my old friend and banker Carole -- we met when I joined my first plaintiff's firm in 1988. I have followed her with accounts to easily 6 different banks. She's Irish, and I used to make fun of the fact that I, the Jewish guy, had been to her ancestral home TWICE, and she, zero. Two years ago that changed -- she flew there to watch her Seminoles play Ga Tech in Dublin, but ended up in the hospital with awful chest pain -- broken ribs.

It was worse -- the ribs were broken as a result of metastatic cancer that had spread pretty much everywhere. They packed her up with meds and she saw experts at Baptist's MCI. She was past surgery and radiation and chemo -- they started her on immunotherapy -- cutting edge stuff.

I honestly thought my friend would be gone by the end of the year -- but here we are -- past 2 years post diagnosis -- and we're meeting for lunch. Yeah -- I love it when idiots complain about the big bad medical industrial complex -- and big pharma. Without these, I wouldn't be catching up with my always jovial friend today.

So the plan is -- lunch with her - outside, as she is careful about picking up bugs. Maybe an afternoon nap. And then Canes on TV. When I think of Wake, I always think of the song Donald Fagan wrote about the "losers in the world -- Deacon Blue." Apparently he was inspired by watching Bama dominate them in a game. May they remain losers, big time, tonight.

I'll be happy knowing Mike, Jeannine, and Chris are there, repping the U. And making new memories for themselves.

The Final Queue

 Several years ago, the last of my family's Greatest Generation died. I think it was my Mom's sister Florence -- or it may have been her sister in law Muriel -- I forget. But the pre-Boomer and Boomer members have begun leaving the theater -- first was cousin Arlyne, who was the oldest and would have been, I think, 83 now.  My Dad's side cousin Steve jumped the line at 72 and died a few months back.

And today came word of another member of our generation -- my cousin Linda's husband Steve -- he had just turned 75. Like most of the rest of the family, time and tides had moved us apart -- socially if not physically. Linda and Steve, both long term Dade teachers, had moved to Century Village in Pembroke Pines years ago, and though my suegros were there at the same time -- we never got together.

I always found Steve an affable enough fellow -- and a lot less intellectual than his genetics would have predicted. His father was an accomplished academic, and, as I recall, the founding Dean of Nova's Osteopathic Med School, but Steve barely got his teaching degree and taught Phys Ed and Health. Not to be an academic snob, but I am -- often kids of the highly educated go to the next level -- not here.

Still, in the measure of a man that matters, he measured up well -- 2 daughters and a son who loved him, and a great caretaker to Linda, who years ago was stricken with dementia and Parkinson's. A video I saw from 2 years ago showed her in a nursing home "celebrating" their 50 something anniversary, and she was totally gone. I'm surprised she is still alive now, and I guess the only blessing is she probably can't mourn her life partner's passing.

In a way, it's good that I don't see my cousins, and haven't for many years. In my mind, they remain young marrieds -- full of life and welcoming kids. I don't have to think of the reality of the decline and decrepitude. 

But on the happy side of life, I plan to leave here in a few hours and cruise the man sized Buick SUV to D2's house. She will make us our afternoon cawfee on Jonathan's state of the art machine -- they became coffee snobs living in The Village for 4 years. We have been deputized to fetch Baby Man and then Little Man at their schools, since D1 had an important Biz call, and we will bring home dinner and eat at D2's. They can choose -- but typically it's between Pura Vida and Chik-Fil-A.

We will then bring them home, and bath and homework can ensue.

Wifey is dipping on account of she hosts mah jong tonight. That's ok -- I've come to learn to enjoy the solo drives home, with music and the gorgeous Miami sunset over the Everglades as I drive the Dolphin.

Friday the Canes play at Wake Forest. I'm sure plenty of fans can avoid hearing Steely Dan's "Deacan Blues" when they think of Wake, but I am NOT one of them -- hopefully Canes can be the winners of the world.

Sunday Chris has tix for Mike and me to join him for John Forgaty and Steve Winwood at the Indian Casino place. This will make #4 for my seeing Fogarty, and #1 for Mr. Blind Faith and Traffic. We will eat at Anthony's Fuhgettaboutit Runway first, and then Uber to the show.

Last week, it occured to me Sunday was Kol Nidre. Norman had bought tix for him and Benji but sold them when he saw the conflict. Me? Who am I kidding? I don't go to services -- maybe I'll have the last bites of sausage and peppers before sunset, and avoid more drinks at the concert.

The Big Man has plenty more to forgive me for than a Kol Nidre concert -- I hope He does.

I plan to listen to Leonard Cohen's "Who By Fire" on Monday -- his YK influenced song. Cousin Steve died NOT by fire -- not sure what took him.

But I do hope for another year in the Book of Life -- I am the youngest first cousin on both sides. Hey -- not nearly my turn!

And So This is RH - And What Have You Done?

 So this lazy, prone to inertia old guy made 3 separate car trips this week. Thursday evening I drove myself up to Joe Robbie, for the Canes home opener. It was a great time. I prepared by buying a bottle of Zhyr vodka, which I learned from a young tailgater is pronounced like "deer" instead of "er." Turns out it says so on the label.

I got to the stadium, and for a FAMU game -- it was pretty crowded. Mike was next row over, and so I toted the vodka to his tailgate, and met Chris and his old buddy Kyle. After a few, Mike grabbed me in the wonderful way he gets with ETOH (like me) and said there was no place he would rather be. I corrected him: NYE on a luxe ship last NYE watching our boys beat Ohio State was special,too. He agreed.

Barry and Scott and taciturn Sam arrived, followed later by Josh who side told his brother "Dave is already drunk," which wasn't true -- just buzzed. To a young man who wants to be seen as a partier but truly isn't, I guess any inebriation is a thing. It's ok...

Several young inexperienced kids came up to us -- could they eat? One young lady, a 20 something who looked like Phoebe Cates if she was Cubana, explained her friends gathered but no one brought any food. We made her a plate. Later some of her co-horts asked if they could buy some of the donuts. Ha -- we gave them away, and had a classic viejo verde time of it. Had more wives been in attendance, world class eye rolling would have ensued.

The game was as expected -- over by the first quarter. One of our chat group remarked we may be in the presence of greatness. We finished second last season and appear to be better. We waited for the FAMU band, which is worth the watch, and then looked for Eric and his crew -- but they had gone to the Club before the band and back to the stadium as we were leaving. But in the parking lot, we saw neighbors Hilit and Alex, with their D.C. daughter in tow -- Scott and Sam compared South Florida ex pat notes with the Michigan grad. I drove home very happy.

Friday it was BACK to far North Dade for Jonathan's family's erev RH -- another great night. Lisbeth and David are such gracious hosts, and Jonathan's sisters and brother and siblings were in fine spirit. A treat for me is being with Judy, Jonathan's grandmother -- the embodiment of a family matriarch.

She is amazingly generous with all her grandkids, and they fight to be with her -- I noticed both Jonathan and his brother Daniel made her plates of the delicious brisket Daniel's wife Melanie had cooked.

We spent hours, and talked of our pasts in Israel and LI and South America, and Judy proclaimed NEXT time she expected to see D1 and her boys. I told her that would happen at Thanksgiving -- D2 already arranged for the caterer.

Finally last evening it was a gathering at Luna Pasta in MiMo for the boys and Ds and Paul and Patricia. Jonathan was a question, but after a day of Services, he had decided a good pasta dinner was in order.

I sat with the boys, and cut Little Man's steak, and Jonathan taught Baby Man the spaghetti eating method, and it was divine -- I sat at the end of the table, with Paul at the other end, and we toasted -- Paul with non alcohol beer -- we are a couple of blessed formerly rockin' lawyers in the USA.

Today the NON driving beckons. I plan to walk a skittish Spaniel for a bit, and then watch some NFL -- the hapless Dolphins play at 430. And then this evening, my old friend John's show premieres -- an 8 part series based on his memoir of dealing with Saddan Hussein.

I'm more than a bit proud of him -- my buddy since kindergarten who was recruited to the CIA and actually took part in US history.

Tuesday back on the road -- D1 has a biz meet, and asked her sister and me to fetch boys and keep them for a bit -- Wifey has mah jong and will skip that event. Those 2 grandsons. As the Millennials say -- I can't even...

So the Jewish New Year celebration ends tonight, and we slog towards the Day of Atonement. I typically observe the night before, Kol Nidre, but had committed to a night with Chris and Mike -- Chris got us John Fogerty/ Steve Winwood tix, which we will attend following dinner at Anthony's Runway 84. So my fast may start a bit late -- I hope the Big Man forgives.

I will chill and reflect on actual YK. How to be better. What to leave in; what to leave out -- in other words -- what have I done?

Hurt People Hurt People

 Rosh Hashanah draws nigh, as the British Jewish poet might have said. and I ought to be taking stock of my life and relationship with the Big Man, according to Torah teaching, but I have come full circle in my observance of religion, and instead am thinking a LOT about the 25th anniversary of 9/11.

Oh, I'm a proud Zionist Jew, all right, but find the services simply don't resonate with me. I went a few times to Reform services with Eric,and then begged off for years until coming into the orbit of Orthodox, with Rabbi Yossi. Norman was kind enough to invite me a few times to HIS shul, and I enjoyed the fraternity of the event, but, truth be told, I couldn't wait for the talking and chanting to end. It was WAY cool when Norman blew the shofar, and made for many tellings regarding the homophone of the ram's horn, and how different denominations treat their drivers...

Man, what a thing it was 2001. Afterwards, we adopted the same message as Holocaust Jews: Never Forget. We forgot, or at least many of us have.

The Jews took Never Forget and finally got a homeland, one I am proud to say my late suegros helped to found. It's funny, I am FAR more Zionist than my Sabra Wifey, but I understand that if there IS another Holocaust, Big Man forbid, this time the Jews will take tens of millions along with them.

Golda Meir told Kissinger as much when Nixon balked at sending nation saving materiel during the Yom Kippur War. Nixon was a lame duck, oil prices were high, Kissinger explained, and most Americans cared more about oil prices than the existence of the Jewish state. Meir reminded Henry that if the attacking Arabs made it to the gates, Cairo, Damascus, Tripoli, and others would end up in a way that they WISHED they were Hiroshima. Nixon, no lover of The Tribe but a pragmatist, sent the materiel and Israel won.

Israel is the ultimate Fuck You for the Jews. Hate from the Right? Hate from the Left? Saying stupid mean things on Ivy League campuses? That's ok -- Israel's existence says Fuck you.

And in my nation, we ought to have the ultimate FU to Islamic radicals, especially after 9/11. Instead, what they couldn't do with those acts, some useful idiots are allowing be ELECTING leaders who may well ultimately get what Al-Queda sought.

The fake doctor running for Senate in Michigan explained Israel's 10/7 attack by saying "Hurt people hurt people" -- in other words, if you feel oppressed, it's fine to terrorize an Israeli Burning Man and torture and kill women and babies.

NYC's mayor was a boy during 9/11, but his father has said it was ok many times. And the idiot, trying to show he FEELS for the victims, signed a proclamation the other day and then handed the pen to a top lawyer -- who repped the guys who bombed the World Trade Center years before! You can't make this stuff up.

The poor survivor families will be at Ground Zero Friday and have begged Mamdani to stay away. Nope -- he will be there -- repping many of the folks who perpetrated the act! Hasan Piker keeps posters of the burning towers in his office, and NOT as a somber reminder.

I just hope that the DSA and all of their supporters end up being a silly, brief moment in US history.

It's funny -- I sent my Lefty bro in law a funny anti socialist video the other day, a fake Beatles group playing the tune of "All My Loving" with lyrics poking fun at the likes of Bernie Sanders --"I'll give all his money (the capitalist dupe) to you."

He called me and said it was clear I had become a full Trumper. Yeah. Except I revile him, too, and plan on voting for the Dem Rodriguez for Congress and Dem Jolly for Governor. I will NOT vote for the DSA anti semite Nixon for Senator.

But I will not abide "Well ANYONE is better than the Republicans" crap. Not true. I would LOVE to see a centrist Dem, like Andy Beshear, rise like Clinton did to the Oval Office. I guess the next years will tell.

All I know is, hopefully Never Again means Never Again, not "Well the REASON" they did that was...In black humor, it's like the comedian who said Islamicists also mourn what happened "We lost 19 of our best guys!"

May there be peace and true understanding...

25 Year Ago

 So tomorrow is Labor Day, and we have plans to visit old friends Maureen and David for a barbecue. David has become quite the grill master in his retirement, and has a cook off with another friend -- Wifey and I will be some of the judges. We met when D1 and their D2 met in kindergarten -- Wifey thought Maureen was English. Close -- Jewish girl from Smithtown, LI.

We're all grandparents now -- their youngest lives in Atlanta with her Miami born and raised husband and little girl, and the oldest is a scientist in Seattle, living with a partner she met after being briefly married to a man. I'm surprised we don't see more of that sort of thing...

So tomorrow is the last day I can wear white. Ha. Labor Day meant more in the Northeast --- school started AFTER the holiday, and the life guards were pulled from the beaches and pools. It marked the end of Summer. Here, it just offers hope that maybe we just have another couple months of really hot weather.

And Friday night, we're headed to Jonathan's family's house for Rosh Hashanah dinner with his wonderful family. D1 is headed here, for RH with friends in Palmetto Bay, and then Saturday, we will have our "non RH, RH" at D2 and Jonathan's -- just bring in some good takeout and wish each other a fine 5787. I'll get to make my yearly joke "It's already Chanukah and I'm still writing 5786 on my checks!"

But Friday is also 9/11 -- and the 25th anniversary, to boot. I still recall the day with stunning clarity. I was driving up US1 to my office -- important settlement meeting. We had handled a fire case with our old boss Ed, and the clients were coming to sign all the papers, set up a trust for their burned daughter, and we would, of course, be paid our fat fee.

Wifey called. "I sure am glad your office is on the first floor. I'm watching "Today" and some airplane crashed into the World Trade Center!" Indeed -- we all initially thought it was some errant Cessna or something. I immediately thought of a tale my Dad had told -- when a WW II era bomber crashed into the Empire State Building in fog.

By the time I made it to the office, and we met with the clients (sort of trailer-ey folks from Broward) and got everything signed, we knew the incident was no errant Cessna. The clients left, we sent the staff home, and I learned the Ds were safe -- Wifey fetched them from Leewood and Palmetto Middle. Paul made sure HIS kids were fine, as did Ed. By then, about 1 pm, all 4 planes were down, and it seemed the attack had ended.

Ed, always the pragmatist, said "Ya gotta eat" and so we 3 retired to Morton's on Brickell, drank martinis and ate steaks, and toasted to whatever was to come in our nation. Paul always said he was impressed I knew all about Bin Laden and Al-Queda -- I guess I kept up on those things. We shook hands and each headed home -- to a new world.

Now, a quarter century later, the NYC mayor is close with those who praise 9/11. A Michigan Senate candidate is, too. Our ally Israel suffered THEIR equivalent of 9/11 on 10/7, and somehow THEY are the aggressors -- Palestinians, who gave out candy 9/11 on the West Bank and Gaza, and danced with happiness shouting "From the River to the Sea" are FAVORED by many -- mostly on the ultra Left.

Last night, a British singer -- forget his name but my buddy Dave from Stoke once called a "ginger cunt" had a concert opened by some rapper who rapped all pro-Palesting. Nice. Less than a week before 9/11.

The world is indeed upside down. The GOP has become 2 parties -- GOP and MAGAS. The Dems are Dems and DSAs. Some DSA called Hakeem Jeffries, a Black guy and next Speaker of the House if the Dems win in November, "an AIPAC monkey" but quickly added "monkey" wasn't to be taken as racist.

Oh boy. There are delicious ironies. A couple of Queers for Palestine useful idiots in Texas were killed by a true Muslim for being gay, before the guy killed himself. Who could have seen THAT coming?

I hope the future months see a move back to the center -- a political place most of my logical thinking friends live. I guess we'll see.

I know this November I shall exercise my new "No Party" affiliation. I plan to vote for the Dem for Congress (Elliot Rodriguez) and governor. I will vote for the Dem for governor (David Jolly). I shall NOT vote for the Dem for Senate (Richard Nixon's granddaughter -- but not really). 

There's an Amendment on the ballot to raise the exemption on property taxes, which will save us a few thousand -- many thousands later. I don't support it, but see it passing HUGELY.

And it IS curious to me. Our next door neighbor used to pay about $25K in taxes. The new owner, on account of paying lots more, pays $60K. This is common in Miami, and yet the local government still says they don't have enough. Maybe the tax cuts will force some more discipline on the locals. Another thing to see going forward.

But if you would have asked if the horror of 9/11 would have led to things in the US and NYC the way they currently are, I would have laughed. Somehow it's not funny now.