The Original Fun Couple

 So Wifey and I were flattered -- our young, hip D2 and husband actually WANTED to meet us for dinner! They picked Nave in the Grove, and Wifey and I pulled up to see D2 waiting (she had Ubered from the Beach) being hugged by a large Sicilian man. It was our old friend Joel, with his Leslie Mann-like wonderful wife Courtney. They had a cocktail and were headed back to Ransom to watch their soccer playing son take on Westminster Christian. We asked if they wished to meet up after our dinner/their game, and they did.

Jonathan drove up, and we sat outside. Wifey reminded us the venue, although different restaurant, was where D1 introduced us to Joey -- now probably 7 years ago. I was feeling festive, and treated myself to a Stoli Elit martini. And then we looked up to seen another of our favorites -- pretty Chelsea, dear friend, former roommate, and sorority sister of D1.

Chelsea got her doctorate in PT at NYU after UF, and now works with Dr. Barry at Holtz. He and I are huge fans of the lovely young professional. She was meeting some friends for drinks. Again, feeling festive, I walked to the bartender and gave them the AMEX -- round of drinks on the old Dad.

We feasted, and laughed, and caught up. We toasted our families. Jonathan's Irish twin brother Dan and lovely wife Melanie just moved back to Miami from a sabbatical in LA and Kansas City -- so now all of Jonathan's full siblings and one of two half siblings are all in town. My two sets of consuegros and Wifey and I are lucky so and sos...

After dinner, Joel and Courtney walked over, and we went to Taurus, a bar they preserved when they built a new building. Taurus is an old Grove fixture -- there since the early 60s -- my friends and I used to drink there in 1979!

It was crowded with a nice mix of people -- beautiful young ones, dressed from holiday parties, and a few old Groveite hippies -- even older than Wifey and me!

Joel talked...a lot...about his new business, and Jonathan listened...a lot. He and Courtney adore "The kids," and enjoy spending time with them. Courtney's best college friend Jessica is married to a pretty famous comedian I'll call Jerry, since that's his name, and we always get a vicarious kick out of hearing about their time together. Last year Jerry and Jessica and their kids rented a whole floor at the Bal Harbor Ritz for a month.

My fellow LI raised Jewish kid made a few shekels. I still think his creative partner Larry is much funnier...

I checked the time and it was near midnight! What??? D2 asked "Who ARE you people?" Wifey drove us home, and in a show how the worm has turned, D2 texted asking if we made it home ok.

So it was a fine Friday night. Tonight we're awaiting old friends Dave and Maureen -- bringing in food. If my arm is twisted, I'll make martinis, or pour wine. 

Gotta celebrate the days, and we're lucky to do it.

Fat But Healthy

 So today I had my yearly, very thorough physical, from Dr. Mary, who is about to retire. Boy am I old -- TWO of my family practitioners are now retired.

For years, we had Dr. Dave, who we met when our girls were in preschool together. Dave joined MDVIP, a concierge practice, and was kind enough to waive the yearly fees for us, in exchange for legal work I would perform for him. Eight years ago, he retired and sold his practice to Dr. Mary, who moved here from Houston for the gig. She gave us a free year of the service, and we continued on as paying patients, but a few years back, Wifey, on a money saving kick, decided it wasn't worth the cost, and she left the practice. I firmly believe in the adage that you don't fix what ain't broke, and so I stayed on.

Now a young fellow is taking over, and I have to decide whether or not to stay. My alternative is to switch to Dr. Adam, a friend of D1's since Middle School, who now practices with his Dad in the Gables. I'll see.

Anyway, one of the things MDVIP does is an EXTENSIVE blood test, which the doc goes over with you yearly. It measures things like cholesterol particle size. My brother Eric says a lot of the stuff is bullshit -- or at best in the early stages. And sure enough, they lost one of the 8 tubes of blood I gave -- the one they used for the basic CBC. Dr. Mary expects it to be normal, as all of the more esoteric markers were all fine. Still, Nurse Nancy drew another vial.

Dr. Mary also did an extensive neuro exam, and they did a breath strength test, which showed I was above average. I told them the test was unfair, as lawyers are so full of hot air we have an advantage over civilians. Dr. Mary complimented my mobility, balance, and strength.

But, alas, I am fat. Porcine, corpulent, zaftig. I was down to near normal weight during the first year of the pandemic, on account of anxiety. I was fearful that the plague might take my family, including the newborn grandson. And so my appetite was diminished, and I walked. A lot. Many days I got in 15-20 miles.

Well, I still walk, but now more like 3-4 miles a day, and the appetite came back with a college boy-like vengeance. Dr. Mary suggested the obvious -- wait until January to work on it. My numbers are fine, and I AM working out, and, well, I AM going to consume mass quantities over the holidays, ranging from latkes to NYE feasts. But come January I figure I WILL go for the gold -- like countless other saps who diet in the new year. Why not?

One of the things your MDVIP tuition gets you is LOTS of time with the doc, and Dr. Mary and I chatted for quite awhile. She has worked since she was 15, and is a bit fearful of retirement. I tried to calm her fears, as a semi retired guy -- I am NEVER bored. Somehow the days still fly by.

Also, she has a lot of catching up to do. She has grandkids in Texas and around the South west, and she has avoided travel lest she get Covid. She wasn't afraid of the effects, but as a sole practitioner, didn't want to have to close her office for weeks if she tested positive. So now comes grandkid time!

Meanwhile, this upcoming weekend will not lend itself to weight loss. D2 called earlier -- she knows I have Friday Zoom, but wondered whether Wifey and I were free for dinner with her and Jonathan. I told her time with them trumps, pardon the expression, and Zoom cocktails, and so we're meeting them tonight in the Grove.

Tomorrow night we're having the aforementioned Dr. Dave and Maureen over for dinner. I plan to bring in Platea, Peruvian prime beef and ceviche, which we have done before. It'll be great to catch up with them.

Sunday night is dinner with Deb and Norman -- at the latest iteration of our beloved Redfish Grill. Some new chef took over , and the weather promises to be perfect for dining on Biscayne Bay, where the Cuban gentlemen sleep all day...

Yes -- there is a conspiracy to keep me fat. Last night I had a wonderful dinner with Mirta, my sister of another mister, at Bulla. We shared a paella. I brought one home for Wifey, who devoured hers as well.

Why does food have to be so delicious?????

So I'll keep moving, and starting January, eating less. Happy '23.

We're The Young Generation, And We've Got Something To Say

 So yesterday I went to the office to check on the state of some files, and left with Don Henley's "First Laundry" playing in my head: "You don't really want to know how far it's gone.." I was being dramatic to myself -- turns out that different practitioners have different styles, is all, and probably the smarter ones who want to avoid stress take a more hands off approach.

But I had been invited for a cocktail with a young Turk mentee of mine, who I'll call Mike, since that's his name, and the day brightened. To show off my cred, I brushed off his suggestion we meet at old standby Trulucks, in favor of a new hip place opened by the Carbone guy named Dirty French Steakhouse. Well, my cred was off, as they open at 5, and we were meeting at 430, to give him time to make a meeting nearby at 6.

I called an audible and picked Drake's Bar, off the lobby of the JW Marriott. I had been to weddings at that hotel, and its restuarant, but never it's English Club-type watering hole. I loved it immediately -- joking with the Cubana barkeeper -- and then Mike and I caught up over martinis and beer. His wife is expecting their second child any day now -- she's a dear friend and former sorority sister of D1 -- and it was delightful.

Mike deals with life and career essentially the same way I did 30 years ago. He's in the chips big time lately, as his firm is kicking ass and taking names, but he realizes that the chips may roll away any year, and is therefore committed to living below their means. He grew up very middle class, in Broward, as did his wife, and so their current means are well above their childhood means -- but he keeps that sensibility. I shared with him tales of some of my cohort who made some shekels and lived like rock stars -- and then when the shekels slowed, dealt with that stress that comes from painting yourself into a materialistic corner.

He left for his work/social function, and I then did one of my favorite things: ate dinner alone at a bar. I also got a veggie burger to go for Wifey -- causing the barkeeper to ask if I had any brothers who might be available to marry. Ha -- no -- just WAY older sisters.

Today Juan had me do some kinds of movements that caused my legs to say "WTF?" and then I got a lovely text -- from Ellie. Ellie was one of the "little girls" we employed at our firm -- friends of our former secretary Norma's daughter Monica -- they were students at Braddock High, and we brought them in to help with filing and clerical duties. Two of them, Janet and Ellie, ended up staying for years -- through college and grad school, as our job allowed very flexible hours and a great environment.

Janet became a school psychologist/counseler, and now has boys the age she was when she started with us! Ellie went farther educationally -- got a doctorate -- and is now a school principal!!!!

She texted because her family needed a worker's comp lawyer, and I referred her to my friend Dave. But she sent pictures of her baby sons (or so I remembered) graduating college! And she told me she loves her career as a principal at a charter school. But wait, I thought -- she's only 16 -- how can she be CEO of a school?

Of course, the answer is the march of time...

I spoke to an old friend yesterday, who is a long time Broward County caseworker. She got her MSW a bit later in life, early 30s, and has worked over a quarter century for the County. She is miserable. "You're retired! Everyone I know is retired! I need to retire, too!" She hopes to do so, soon -- she shared that the money she spends on therapy to allow her to refrain from "going postal" is starting to equal the income she brings in.

It reminded me of a Brownie meeting I attended for D2 -- probably 26 years ago. One of the Moms was a long time Dade teacher. She went on and on about how much she hated it -- the decades of nasty students, worse parents, and incompetent administrators had taken their toll. She was about to join the DROP program and leave in 5 years. I remember thinking how bad I felt for her students -- stuck with an educator who was so over it all and bitter.

I also thought of her for another reason. She had planned to move away from "Dangerous South Florida" since her sister taught at a school out west. It was a far safer place. I hadn't heard the name until recently -- Moscow, Idaho. Of course, there was just a grisly multiple killing there. Wherever you go -- there you are.

But I guess the point is -- hang around younger folks. They're on the make. They want to effect change. And that is something to say.

Call From Down Under

 Ah, Wifey. Like many in her cohort -- women who have reached a certain age, she is restless. She loves being a grandmother, but as D1 points out, is no longer the "1997 version" of who she was as totally involved and devoted Mom -- balancing working 3 days per week with attendance at and driving to EVERY one of the Ds activities.

She wants to move from this house where I have found my xanadu, and when asked why, there are responses about no longer wanting to be "in the suburbs" or going closer to said grandkids, but when pressed she admits she "just wants a change."

The same thing goes for travel. We just returned from a wonderful trip to France, including land days and a luxury cruise, that all together cost easily more than my entire first year's salary as a lawyer, and she keeps talking about "the next trip."

Conversely, other than long weekend excursions, I ain't going nowhere over the ocean for at least a year -- maybe two. We'll work it out -- hopefully one or more of her friends will go with her, leaving me at peace with the dogs and quiet. We'll see.

Well her BFF Edna is far luckier than Wifey -- she has a husband who ALSO wants to travel -- a lot. Last night they called from a luxury cruise ship in the South Atlantic -- 16 days exploring stuff from Australia to New Zealand. It was cool -- the first time I ever spoke to someone from Down Under -- it was 8 pm Miami time and noon the next day there.

Unfortunately, the seas were rough,  and Edna was feeling it. They hung up in search of dramamine. Still -- it was terrific to hear from them -- and terrific for me that I did so from the place I wish to be -- home.

That said, I did see that Willie Nelson, somehow still alive, is playing Key West in March, at a great amphitheater where we saw John Fogarty with Joelle and Kenny last November. I told Wifey I ALWAYS want to go to KW -- maybe that'll be a trip for us, but not staying at my usual, the Pier House. Last time it was overpriced and tired looking. Kenny and Joelle found a much nicer place -- got to get the name from them. All I need at the Pier House is my usual martini at the Chart Room -- the first American place Bob Marley played, and the bar that gave Jimmy Buffet his start. Also, a hangout for writers like Capote, Williams, and McGuane.

I tell Wifey all the time that one of my unrequited desires it to go to KW and stay drunk for 5 days straight. Problem is, I'm a lightweight. After the first evening of one too many, I'm done. Still, I like the idea of it -- sort of like seeing a MLB game in every one of the 30 stadia in the US. Probably won't happen, but it might...

Meanwhile, I've had perfectly great mornings, and today's wasn't one of them, to borrow from Groucho. I attended a Zoom depo followed by a long conference in the case that simply won't go away -- our battle with a TV lawyer over fees on a case our former associate Fredo stole. It is a waste of time like no case before, and in my 37 year legal career, I have wasted a LOT of time. Oh well -- just have to soldier on, unless we want to cave to a smarmy advertising lawyer who shows pictures of his young wife to somehow prove his masculinity -- but hilariously, although young, she's a mishkeit. Yeah -- gotta go to the mat with that putz.

My wife, getting near a birthday, is MY trophy -- even though she wants to move and travel more than I do. And that's ok.

Obituary Dave

 So I've always had a strange, but not unique, habit: I daily read the obituaries. I guess having my Dad die when I was 20 brought the reality of death closer to me than it did many of my contemporaries -- but actually, to me obituaries are far more interesting than wedding notices, or birth announcements.

My friends make fun of me for being the one to typically report to them deaths that hit close to home. Dr. Barry, in particular, gets comically annoyed when I tell him about someone at or near our age who dropped either suddenly or following a battle with a disease, and so he gave me the nickname "Obituary Dave."

Lately, though, Norman has been making a run for the ring. He was the one who reported to our group news of a murder/suicide involving a Chief Medical Officer of Gables Hospital, and her troubled, apparently, husband. He's also sent news of several other untimely deaths. I need to redouble my efforts.

Speaking of the murder/suicide thing -- it's really too bad the murder part doesn't come first -- unless it's consensual, like the plans of our friends Jeff and Lili. Lili has said that if she and Jeff become burdensome incapacitated elders, she wants out that way -- but she kills Jeff first just in case she changes her mind. I love that!

Part of my black hobby is whistling past the graveyard, of course. By making light of contemporaries' deaths, I deal with the fear I and all of us have of leaving this mortal coil. That said, I used to love ONE thing former office roommate Mark used to say. He was a strange guy -- excellent criminal defense lawyer -- who used to race cars for a hobby. I asked if he wasn't afraid of dying. He replied he feared closed head or spinal cord injury, but "Death I can live with."

A few weeks ago, I called Paul suggesting we contact a lawyer we used to work with about a case. I had read the fellow's obit, and was waiting to answer "Ha. We can't! He's dead!" Alas, Paul shares my morbid habit, and had already read about the fellow.

When my Dad died, many concerned friends and colleagues at UM had lovely, comforting words. Still, only the simple message of one person resonated with me. Jim Ash, then the Director of the Honors Program, and a mentor, said to me simply "Dave -- we all do it."

That's all I needed to hear. Yes -- there was the drama of losing my best friend, father, and essentially grandfather. But he did what we are all of us destined for -- left the Earth. Somehow that idea comforted me the most.

Of course, Jim went on to a colorful fate. He became President of Whittier College, and then College of the Sierras in Nevada. Along the way, that Presbyterian minister started more expressing his latent homosexuality, and doing crystal meth. He was arrested in a cheap motel in Reno, strung out, with a young man. A sordid path of failed rehabs awaited him, and he died young, of an overdose.

Still -- I will always appreciate his sage words. And in a great twist to his story, his widow, Pat, came out, too, and lives with a woman who was a former colleague at UM. You never know...

Last Friday, on our Zoom, I learned of a particularly tragic death -- a young man just in his late 30s. He came from privilege -- his mother a doctor who also won Lotto and became quite rich. Despite this financial boom, he was a drug addict since his teen years, and died last week. His obituary was in the Herald today.

Nothing funny when a young person dies -- I see the humor in high flying grownups who fly too close to the sun, like Icarus, and are brought back to Earth.

On another note, our friend in Boston called last night. She wasn't just catching up -- her Mom was in the ED of a local prestigious eye hospital, maybe going blind from a detached retina. Did I know anyone there who might get her to the front of a long line? I did not.

But her hands are SO full now with her boyfriend, and her own issues. I asked why her two brothers couldn't take over her parents' problems. Nah -- one has a sick grown child, and the other is a selfish asshole, she said. Oh well -- I know how that tale ends -- when the parents die, any closeness she had with her brothers will evaporate in the resentment of her having to carry the whole load. And it's too bad -- she truly idolized her brothers.

As the cheerleader I am, I reminded her she is in a very small class of friends of ours -- with BOTH parents still alive. Most of our friends are orphans, like Wifey and I are. Some have a single surviving parent. But two alive? In the fog of dealing with a health crisis for an 89 year old mother from up the East Coast, she didn't seem to agree it was such a blessing.

Still, I know her parents and they're delightful people. Hopefully Obituary Dave won't be reporting on them any time soon.

Stupid Or Lazy?

 Today I was asked by a lawyer friend about a mutual friend whether he was the stupidest or laziest practitioner I'd ever met? I thought before responding. If you're the stupidest -- not much you can do, but if you're the laziest, there's at least a potential for improvement. So I answered: Laziest!

And then it got me to thinking about lazy people I have known. There's a former member of our family, related by marriage, who used to win the dubious award. This guy worked, I think, a total of less than a year in his life. He always had new and creative excuses -- once even claiming he was fired from a construction crew because the foreman was jealous of how much more handsome he was. When I heard that, I doubled over -- imagining a hard had saying to his guys: "Yeah -- had to let go the guy who we had carrying the lumber. Damned if I have some handsome Dan doing that on MY site!"

Of course, in this stage of life, I am in the proverbial lazy glass house. I had free tickets, courtesy of FIU, to attend Art Basel events -- some that even came with great free food! Nah -- the thought of driving in traffic to the Beach, looking for parking, etc. sounded too daunting for my lazy tuches.

Fortunately, at least one of the events, something called Scope, will be attended by our family -- D2 took the tickets, and is going this weekend with Jonathan and some other friends. Now -- they can walk to it from their apartment on the Beach. Plus -- they're young, energetic, and not lazy.

Tomorrow, Kenny asked me to go watch USA soccer with him. I plan to overcome Saturday am inertia, and head to Titanic, find a table, and have morning beers, hopefully watching us beat the Dutch team. So that's contra-lazy, right?

Sunday the little men and their parents are due over. I canNOT be lazy around the nearly 3 year old -- he is nonstop energy. Joey and I will take him for a long walk -- and maybe a play session next door. The prior neighbors, seemingly running out of ways to spend money, built a municipal park-like playground for their kids. The current neighbors, who we like a lot more, now host it -- and our grandson loves it.

Next week I have several Zoom depos, so the inertia must be overcome. And we're in the middle of family celebration season. Oldest grandson turns 3 soon, and the following week it's Wifey's birthday. She has forbidden me from ever again publishing her age, or even making cutesy jokes about the number, like the fact that this year she can get her kicks on Route...

Meanwhile, as lazy as I am, I DID walk 4.7 miles today, and took a trip to the UPS store to send back some wrong sized water filters. That was a minor comedic thing -- I ordered number ones, and need number 3s. They cost about $50 each, so I was hell bent on getting an exchange, and KitchenAid put me through a Kafkaesque routine, with dropped calls, and failed call backs, before they finally sent me return information. It was supposed to include prepaid shipping, but the UPS guy said no -- cheapest was $13. That's ok -- at least the box of them is gone from my desk now.

So better lazy than stupid, I guess, even though it's pretty tough to fix the former after a certain age.

No One Was Saved

 So Wifey and I had a sad Wednesday -- attended Jeff's Mom Judy's funeral. She was 83. We met her probably 38 years ago -- Jeff and I were 1Ls at UM. Through the years, Wifey wondered what it would be like to have such a youthful in law -- Judy travelled a lot with her husband Norty, who died 6 years ago, and just seemed so much more youthful than our Greatest Generation parents.

She was buried in the small Jewish part of Graceland North, a very historic Miami cemetery. Two rabbis and a cantor officiated -- and standing outside the tent, it was hot as hell. My friend Jim remarked that he understood how the visiting team at Hard Rock Stadium must feel.

To cheer up, we stopped at Tropical Chinese on the way home. Dim sum and shrimp with broccoli can brighten any day.

Today was home errand day -- after a tough workout with Juan, who had me keep one foot on a flexible ball while kicking his hand with my other knee. He told me to go all out, and I imagined myself as Tony Soprano trying to punish a guy who went against his crew. Juan was impressed.

Car washer and waxer Henry came -- and clayed our aging vehicles to new looking status. And then Arcs and Sparks came -- the polar opposite of the gonifs Mr. Sparky. The crew got my lights fixed in about 2 hours, and charged $350 -- the "diagnosis" fee proposed by the con men. After the holidays, they're coming back to re-activate the rest of the outside lights -- to bring the property to the lighting it had back in 2000 when we moved in. Also, Wifey wants the front gate lights to operate on motion detectors -- so when she returns from her strange night walks, she can safely walk in.

Tomorrow I plan to walk -- a lot. And Saturday, in a measure of how much I value my friendship with Kenny, I am actually going to a sports bar to watch soccer. Kenny is into it; I am not. But Team USA is playing, and we'll head to Titanic at 930. Am.

I joked with D1 that they'll be serving breakfast chili and wings. D1: "Oh -- like you wouldn't happily eat that?" She's correct, of course.

Sunday D1 and the Little Men are coming -- assuming the littlest Man gets over his first cold -- I'm confident he will. D2 may stop by as well -- with enormous puppy Betsy. I actually miss the large dog -- haven't seen her in awhile.

On a walk this evening, I DID run into Jagger, her best local friend. He was being walked by Rachel, about to marry into the family, and I praised Jagger for his behavior -- he didn't jump anymore. As if on cue -- he indeed did, but I was able to cover the jones before I buckled over comically.

Later in the walk, I ran into neighbor Mike, in his SUV with his yellow lab. We swapped T Day stories, and compared notes on being lucky grandpas -- his only daughter lives in town with her husband and two grandkids -- close in age to ours. His daughter Katie went to school with D1.

So another weekend approaches -- and finally, hopefully, some cooler weather. I think Sunday there may be a temperature with a 6 in front of it for the first time in a long time. Can firepit weather be far behind? Hopefully not -- got some firewood waiting in the garage. Actually -- Wifey bought me a new firepit, and it's sat in a box for months now. The time has come for me to free the thing and , well, fire it up.

Nice to be vertical. Hope to stay that way for awhile.