Just A Really Nice Tuesday

 So I worked out with Jonathan in the am, and we talked of music. He told me his band is playing tonight, late, at the Titanic -- a set following a Blues band led by a guy I used to really admire, Chris. Back in the day, Chris played at Tobacco Road, first in the Fat Chance Blues Band, and later, Iko Iko. He was terrific -- and apparently never left Miami, and is now the Dean of local Blues. I recall one night in probably 1985 sitting at the bar with him, and telling him how I loved the Allman Bros cover of "One Way Out." He re-took the stage, and played it -- hoisting a stinger (my drink at the time) to me. Cool night, now 4 decades old.

Well, I may try to summon some yout-fullness, and head over tonight, even though Jonathan's not scheduled to take the stage until near 10 pm. We'll see...

I love Titanic, which was, before I moved to Miami, the Flick Coffeehouse. It's where David Crosby discovered Joni Mitchell, and took her back to his boat in the Grove's Sailboat Bay. Soon after, they left for Laurel Canyon, which became the epicenter of the singer songwriter era of music. Also, it's where Jimmy Buffet was hired to play, but came the wrong week, and instead went to Key West with his buddy Jerry Jeff Walker. Buffet loved Key West, and we all know how that turned out...

When I got to UM, it was K.C. Cagney's, a decent and affordable restaurant where you could take a date for dinner for less than $15.00. It's been Titanic for decades now, with their own brewery. When D1 convinced me to go on PBS's "Check Please," I chose Titanic, and it was featured. The owner saw me and thanked me, but not so much as a free cocktail. Cheap bastard, Patrick.

Yesterday Wifey and I drove to D2's house, and I hung in Jonathan's man cave while they had pilates. D2 and I fetched Little Man, and have him his honey yogurt on the way home, as he made us laugh a usual, telling us his girlfriend Athena "Afeena" left school early because "too many people were talking to her and she got a headache." I SO see why Dr. Barry chose Pediatrics -- kids are the greatest.

D1 joined us with skittish Spaniel Lemon, and we drove Little Man to the skate park for his lesson, and ordered Ironside Pizza.  Both my sons in law were working late, as usual, and as it SHOULD be -- I put in my time as a mule -- now it's theirs.

We played with Baby Man, and ate pizza, and it was delightful. Little Man at 5 is hilarious and adorable and cute -- we're fetching him Saturday for the night -- D1 and Joey are off to Panama City for a wedding of D1's dear friend and former freshman roomie at UF, Chelsea. Chelsea is a Miami Cubana who joined the Jewish sorority at UF -- and now works at UM in the awesome Lynn Rehab Center.

I've always adored her. Her Dad, out of Central Casting for a Miami Cuban Dad, expected she would stay at UM for her PhD in PT. Chelsea fibbed, and said UM had rejected her, but NYU accepted her, and so she got a nice sabbatical in the City. She returned, thankfully, and Barry adores her, too. She's marrying a fellow who splits time between Miami and NYC -- I expect it'll be more Miami now. I met him once but got, to use the LA term, good energy from him.

I called my Cali sister on the way home, as Wifey slept, and caught up with her. She has a singing gig Friday, and is very happy about that. My troubled nephew is doing well, and that brings her much happiness, too. My sister and I both subscribe to the wisdom of the Sam Moore song "If Something is Wrong With My Baby -- Something is Wrong With Me."

Meanwhile, the weather is gorgeous, and I believe a nice long walk awaits. And maybe Blues later tonight -- if I can muster the young energy...

One Movie Per Year

 We used to go to the movies ALL the time. When the Ds were small, Wifey and I typically had a date night of dinner and a movie. Wifey really LOVES movies -- far more than I do. For one birthday, I bought her 20 passes -- she used most with me, but many with her friends. I've become more agnostic lately -- I figure if I can see a film from the comfort of my sofa -- why go? Of course, the Covid plague shut things down for awhile, and so we got used to going far less often.

But every once in awhile...and last year, we went to Sunset Place to see Oppenheimer, with Joelle and Kenny, and really enjoyed it. It ended up winning the Oscar for Best Picture -- we we have good taste.

Wifey's been to several movies since, but not me -- other than taking Little Man to see "Moana 2" at The Falls -- he lasted for about half of it.

But Wifey's friend Karen asked us to go with her to see "Like A Complete Unknown," and since I am quite the Dylan fan, and the film got great reviews -- we went last night. I think we have another Oscar winner -- which means, if it comes to pass, that producers NEED me to attend a theater if they hope to win for Best Picture.

Poor Sunset Place. The shopping center is on Death Row -- I was surprised the theater was still opened. I remember when the spot held the Holsum Bakery, and its amazing smells would waft into our on campus apartment, causing Barry and me to have to go out for a late pizza or Blimpie's sub -- it was like the cartoons where you can actually SEE the delicious smells coming into a window.

They sold to a developer, and built Bakery Center, which failed, and so they knocked it down for Sunset Place. It was popular when the Ds were small -- a big Virgin Records, restaurants, Barnes and Noble, and the theater, but,  alas, it failed, too. Now there's a decade long plan for like thousands of apartments, stores, etc...Maybe this third try will be the charm -- and maybe they'll have a new theater, too.

The Dylan movie traces his arrival in NYC and his beeline for the hospital where his hero Woody Guthrie was dying from Huntington's Disease. He met Pete Seeger there, who became his entre into the folk world of Greenwich Village. The movie traces the early years, until the great controversy at the Newport Folk Festival where Dylan "went electric." It seems so silly now -- like who would care if Drake started singing Country, or more likely, playing Klezmer -- but at the time it was a big deal.

The acting was great -- this kid Chalamet is terrific, and I didn't realize Pete Seeger was Edward Norton until Wifey told me.

I missed most of the NFL Championship games, but saw enough of the NFC one to know the Eagles would win, and made it home to see Buffalo fail against the Chiefs. So mission accomplished for Sunday.

I'm old enough to remember the 70s, when cinemas thought HBO would be their end. The Wantagh Theater had a "Boycott Pay TV" message on its marquee. Their concerns may have been correct, albeit decades premature. The theater was pretty empty, even though it had luxury seats and a full bar. I wouldn't invest in AMC, personally...

But it was still a nice time -- Wifey can probably get me to go again sooner than later. But if she wants to start going weekly again, well, that ain't me, babe...

I Still Recall The Magical Light

 Today D2 and Jonathan celebrate their 5th wedding anniversary -- and what a weekend it was! I had told each of the Ds that we were giving them a substantial gift -- they could have big ass weddings, or keep the money for other things. They chose door number one, and I'm glad they did -- we had two of the most memorable nights in our family's history.

We checked into the Betsy Hotel, and it had historical precedent. On a VERY cold April night in 1986, I parked in front of the then Betsy Ross Hotel, and walked Wifey, not yet Wifey, to the beach. I had my Mom's wedding ring from 1944 -- she had given it to me with a comical twist. After pre-Wifey showed it to her, my Mom said "Sweetie -- wear it in GOOD health, but if you ever divorce my son -- the ring comes back to our family." Yep -- that was Grandma Sunny -- and Wifey is more and more like her.

Anyway, in sight of the spirit of my late Dad, whose cremains were in the ocean, I told her I loved her and wanted her to build a family together. Wifey claims I never actually asked her -- just sort of said these were my thoughts, but when I gave her the ring, the message was clear.

So years later, we were on that same hallowed ground -- in the beautifully renovated hotel. Friday night we had a cocktail party in the basement -- decorated with rock star posters - which was where Meyer Lansky ran one of his boiler room operations. We drank -- heavily. The planners estimated the alcohol would cost around $5K, but when we got the bill, it was $15K -- everyone was drinking triples of the top shelf hootch! D2 negotiated it down to a much more reasonable amount, showing me she indeed would have made a fine lawyer.

On Sunday night, we gathered for the ceremony to sign the ketuba -- and the party was ON. Our consuegros Liz and David were there -- Liz and Wifey broke a plate -- symbolizing the last time anything should be broken in our families. There was a shadow over the prep time -- news of Kobe Bryant's death had circulated, and he was a MAJOR hero to Jonathan and his friends -- but it just sort of added to the poignancy of the day.

And then we met on the rooftop, under a beautiful chuppah, and this was what I recall most: the sun was setting over Miami to the west -- actually over the Everglades farther west, and the ocean was to our close right. Somehow the lighting -- a true golden orange -- looked fake -- surreally beautiful. Every face glowed. It was if a Hollywood lighting director had lit a set...

Rabbi Yossi did something for the first time officiating at a wedding -- he brought up the Holocaust! Classic buzz kill. But the fact that two grandchildren of Survivors were marrying on that gorgeous night was too important to not mention -- the ultimate F U to Hitler and the Nazis.

The party was, as the millennials say, lit. Crazy dancing. More dancing than I ever saw -- the Latin Jews can and do teach American Jews how to do it. Wifey and I got to do the dance when you marry off your last child.

And upstairs, dressed in a tux for adorable photos, was our first grandson --- all of 5 weeks old.

Around 2 am, the after party in the coffee room next to the main hall, was still going strong. Wifey and I were ready to retreat -- I went to the wedding planner, and said I felt bad -- she had hours left on her job. "Nope," she said "thing is winding down -- be over in about 30 minutes." And it turned out she was correct.

The next morning, I sat eating breakfast and drinking coffee, and saying adios to the guests -- my sister and nephew and niece were headed back to California -- many of the friends were headed back to South America -- one back to Israel. It was a happy hangover sort of morning.

But I couldn't get the mental picture of that magical light out of my mind -- as if the Big Man was truly smiling down.

So happy half decade, mein kinder -- and here's to a lifetime together! For this gray, overweight Daddy in the USA -- it's as good as it gets.

Cold As Hail

 I learned recently that is the correct expression -- not "hell." Makes sense -- Hell is supposably (I am keeping the Miami spelling) hot, right?

Well this am the temp was 45 with a "feels like" of 34. Wifey had wrapped the Special Needs Spaniel in a blanket. D1 sent pix of the boys -- dressed more for the slopes of Colorado than Miami. And she walked her skittish Spaniel -- with a doggy coat, of course.

I love it -- knowing it shall soon pass. Last night I attended Eric and Dana's Zoom shabbat on the IPad outside -- by a roaring fire pit, and some Stoli and juice I squeezed into the glass myself. Pretty, pretty, pretty nice.

This am Chris texted -- how about meeting him and his 7 month old Teddy for breakfast with the old men -- his Dad Mike and me? I was in; Mike was taking CPR classes with Loni. After a mixup, where I went to Roasters instead of First Watch, across South Dixie, we met. Teddy is so chill -- I told Chris he and Rachel chose wisely at the hospital. And he adores his baby boy, as Mike adored and adores him, and Ed, Mike's Dad, adored Mike. Often dysfunction gets passed down the generations -- here it is beautiful fathers and sons.

I came home and did the walk -- with TWO hoodies! My neighbor Martha noticed -- she can't understand how I wore shorts in our answer to Arctic weather. I explained that I come from Eastern European stock -- my great grandparents toted stuff in freezing weather in threadbare clothing. I have no idea is that is true -- but it sounded compelling. Martha called me on it -- HER background is Scandanavian, and she was freezing. Ah -- the friendly neighbors you meet...

Tonight Kenny is meeting us at Captain's Tavern for dinner. Joelle is up in Orlando at a conference. I plan on some chowder and halibut -- classic cold weather stuff, though the chowder will be tropical conch and not Northern clam.

Tomorrow evening we're going to see the new Dylan movie with one of Wifey's mah jonng friends. I was going to wait for it to go streaming, but Karen asked us to go -- so we shall. Wifey thinks Karen would be a perfect woman for one of our friends, but the friend happens to be married. Wifey looks ahead...

The weather looks warmer from tomorrow on -- but I ordered a replacement of firewood for the other cold fronts we'll get in the coming months. It's amazing -- my favorite store, Walmart.com took the order at 9 am and the stuff was delivered by 2. As Donald Fagan sang: what a wonderful time to be free...

To get in the mood, I have "Blood On The Tracks" playing on the Sonos. That album's "Shelter From The Storm" gave Wifey and me the vows we added to our wedding ceremony -- we pledged to give each other shelter from the storms of life. And there have been more than a few -- including literal hurricanes that wrecked our house, and others that wrecked our trees...

There's another great line: "Time's a jet plane -- it moves too fast." Sure enough, D2 and Jonathan got married last year except somehow it's been FIVE YEARS! They'll celebrate later in the week.

We lucked out with the timing of both Ds' weddings. D1 took place as Irma was barreling our way, and we had to flee to Atlanta. And D2's was followed 6 weeks later by the worldwide plague known as Covid19. Oh boy -- times of great tensosity, to use my late friend Alan's neologism.

Still, as I sat in the happy buzz of my vodka last night, with Barry and Donna on FaceTime, I apologized to Wifey for my happiness -- as Barry learned when he lived with me 4 decades ago, it can really become a pain.

I reminded Wifey that Tauk Tours was taking the final payment for our Danube River cruise in May. Did this blue collar Jew from LI think he would get TWO trips along the Blue Danube? He did not...

All told, the trip will cost more than the salaries I earned yearly as a lawyer until I was probably 5 years out. And that's ok -- the Ds don't want ALL the money, do they? They do not...

So here's to no storms requiring shelter for a good, long time. The chill from it being cold as hail? That's a pleasant change...

Our Nightmare Is Nearly Over

 I was an English major, and I tend to truly listen when people speak, and react when they write. This is often a problem in this age of so many "Wasted Words," to quote a great Allman Brothers song title.

We have a neighbor I'll call Riva, since that's her name. She may be on the spectrum, neurodivergent, or something, but she's one of the people I avoid when I see her. As D2 would say about her, "Somethin' ain' right."

She's called Village government on neighbors for all manner of activity -- putting trash in her trash bins (which I thought was just a nursery rhyme and not against the law), parking near her house, and, her scourge, a neighbor who makes good money renting out her house for commercial and movie shoots.

Well the other day her name caught my eye in a local news site, and she was talking about the "conversion" FPL is doing in our 'hood. I love that it's called that -- they're digging tunnels and putting the electric service underground. I like to think that maybe some of our current will now be Jewish using the preferred term.

Anyway, it has been a long project -- they started last January and were to be done by June, but here we are in the following January and they're still at work. Last week, they called and said they were cutting our power for a half hour to do the conversion, and it went smoothly -- so I'm guessing our house is now converted. Yay -- hopefully fewer blackouts in relatively mild storms for us now.

Since our house was built in 1997, the supply line from the transformer to our house was already underground -- they just marked it's route with red flags. But for most of our hood, with houses built in the 50s and 60s, they had to actually install new supply lines. Riva had one of these, and apparently they cut her water line, messed up her sod, etc...

So it was an annoyance -- but to her it was a "nightmare." Ay por favor! A nightmare is a cancer battle, or loss of a beloved friend or family member. A nightmare might be fighting a criminal case. But living with street construction for a year a nightmare. Somethin' ain't right.

Wifey is prone to hyperbole when we speak. When the landscapers leave branches she had told them to clean up, "I HATE that they keep doing that!" I always say "You HATE that -- like your parents HATED the Nazis for killing their families and making them slaves for years?"

Yeah -- I'm a pain in the ass sometimes.

But words matter -- at least to me. And when someone says their life is a nightmare, I feel for them.

Unless said nightmare is torn up streets and missing sod...

Remembering My Suegro Of Blessed Memory

 Today is the yahrzeit of my late father in law Richard. He died 9 years ago, at 90. Wifey lit a candle and we said our prayers. Later this afternoon we'll go over to Mt. Nebo west of the Palmetto and visit his grave site, and place stones.

D1 and Joey gave their youngest son his name for a middle name. His namesake is amazingly adorable.

Wifey sent around photos of her Daddy. He had such a happy childhood -- loving parents and siblings, and his father did well as a cabinet maker in Lodz, Poland. And then the Nazis came, and turned his heaven into hell -- losing most of his family in the death camps. Amazingly, he and 2 brothers and a sister survived.

Richard and his sister went to an emerging Jewish homeland, and they fought for Israel's independence. His brothers went to the US. Richard met a fellow Survivor from Poland, though more of a small town girl, from Sosniewicz, and they married. It was hard for them to conceive, but a boy was due in 1950, but was stillborn. The "professors," what Israelis called medical specialists, were skeptical that they would have a baby, and my mother in law Rachel would feed the birds outside her Haifa apartment asking their spirits to help. In late 1956 Wifey was born, and named in Hebrew after the birds...

In 1960, the family of 3 immigrated to the US -- times in Israel were tough, and they both had family in the states. They moved first to Miami, then NY, and then back to Miami in 1972, where Wifey finished high school.

My father in law always saw himself as a businessman, but he was never much of one. All of the businesses he opened -- a candy store on LI, and a dry cleaners in Miami, failed. So he worked hard as a cabinet maker, and my mother in law worked in gift wrap at Burdines -- for many years.

Richard loved his family fiercely. He and I could never communicate well -- his style was always more barking words than listening. But that was ok -- he gave me his daughter, who gave me the greatest gifts of my life: my Ds. So we were cool.

He had quite the ego. After we moved back to our rebuilt house following Hurricane Andrew, we decided to rent out his former house, in Kendale South. He wanted to paint it for me. My brother in law Dennis correctly pointed out that this was 70 year old man who had quadruple bypass surgery a few years before -- how would I feel if he keeled over on a ladder and died? So I hired a painter, who did the job, and thanked my father in law for the offer.

He reacted as if I had insulted his entire family, and stopped talking to me -- for nearly 2 years. He would only visit our house when I was at work, and only drink water from the outside spigot "I don't drink HIS vater." Wifey tried to explain that it was STILL water I paid for -- but my father in law was what is now called neurodivergent, and never saw the absurdity of his thinking.

Well, one day he decided I had been, I guess, punished enough, and began speaking to me again. He even let me pay to send him and my mother in law on trips to Poland and Israel.

It's funny -- as I age - I take little crap from anyone. But I wished our family to remain together, and so I swallowed all pride. I'm glad I did.

We cared for him for years after his Alzheimer's diagnosis. He stayed home with Rachel until he couldn't -- and then we got him into Miami Jewish home. My mother was there, in the final 11 months of her life, and he LOVED when we would all gather outside together, under the ancient live oaks on the property.

Near the end, they rushed him to Mt. Sinai's ICU with sepsis. With his amazing strength and will to live, he recovered -- and had several more months, until it was time for hospice, and he faded into the great beyond.

So today we remember him -- the loving father he was to Wifey, and the loving grandpa he was to the Ds.

He packed a LOT of living into his 90 years. And to our family, his memory is a blessing...

Seein' The Boys

 My neighbor Daria walked by the other night as I was waiting for my UberEats delivery -- with the 'hood's favorite dog, Jagger. Everyone loves the Lab/Golden mix -- when Betsy stays with us, the two of them frolic beautifully. She let Jagger off his leash -- he ran towards me, and cut a hard right into our property -- looking for Betsy. We had to explain to the slightly sad retriever that Betsy was not here.

Anyway, Daria and Rod just became grandparents -- their boy Daniel, who lives in Brooklyn, and his wife just had a baby boy. Daria told me how she had fallen immediately in love, and figured she'd be making monthly treks to NYC "forever." She said what so many grandparents with families out of state say to Wifey and me: "You two are SO lucky to have your kids home." Of course, I agree.

That said -- our distance to the Ds -- between 35 and one hour drives depending on traffic (more often longer times as Miami traffic has become worse and worse) is fine with me. Wifey -- not so much -- she wants to move closer. And though I do dig Miami Shores, the thought of shelling out $2M for a nice 3/2 -- a house that to me ought to be south of $1M even in these crazy times -- well -- not happening. I love my 'hood so much.

Still, we hadn't seen the boys in a long time, on account of flu and a Disney trip, and we truly missed them. Fortunately yesterday, we cured our missing blues.

Wifey and I drove to D2's house for pilates -- taught by D2's friend who is herself 5 months pregnant with her second baby. She and her husband's families live in LA, and we talked of the fires -- she said lots of folks who lived in Malibu or Pacific Palisades are now decamping to the fire safer Orange County.

D1 came by after a presentation online to 400 lawyers -- the beginning of a classic lawyer joke -- and was reunited with the skittish Spaniel, who probably prefers to live with the child-free Wifey and me, but still was happy.

We caravanned to Little Man's school, and I brought him his favorite yogurt with a side car of honey, that only Grandpa Dev knows how to mix it the way he likes it. We then went to the skateboard park -- a private one -- and watched him take lessons. He's VERY coordinated, and takes to it. Of course, in MY day a kid learned to skateboard by grabbing one and going -- falling many times. I actually enjoyed it from ages 12 to probably 16, and my Cali nephew Henry truly got into the skater life -- he even modeled on a skater magazine, which led to hilarious tales he shared about his buddies in SF, when he was in college, thinking he had become a gay icon.

It was a great hour -- watching our boy and some other kids who already mastered the whooshing up and down the concrete hills.

The Ds then ordered dinner for us -- Pura Vida -- and we decamped to D1's house, and reunited with Baby Man, who is absurdly adorable.

And I saw something that warmed me even more. The little brother grabbed a toy from his bigger sibling and pushed him. I know the 5 year old wanted to deck the 2.5 year old, but instead gently reminded him not to hit his brother. D1 showed me that was a result of an earlier incident, where, in fact, the big guy DID deck his little brother, and was forced to draw an apology picture. Hey -- it seems to be working.

We stayed awhile -- no sons in law -- both working late, as I did all through my 20s, 30s, and into my late 40s, and then Wifey and I dropped off D2 and Betsy, and headed for home. The drive took 45 minutes, during which Wifey fell asleep and I listened to Little Steven's Underground Garage on the radio.

It was a delightful day.

Earlier, I had been talking to the other Jonathan in my life, my trainer, about marriage. He just turned 31 and is enjoying single man in Miami status. He asked about maintaining a 38 year marriage, like Wifey and I have. His parents do, too -- his Dad is about 10 years older than his Mom, and he told me his Mom was a flight attendant for El Al in the late 70s after her IDF service -- no wonder Jonathan is such a gentleman with a kick ass Mom like that.

I told him there was no secret sauce, other than a willingness to play the long game -- the VERY long game, despite the many beckoning detours that pop up along with way. If you do, you get to share a VERY wonderful prize -- grandkids. It was so great to see them yesterday.