FDOS!

 Apparently in Broward it was Monday, but here in the 305 today is FDOS -- First Day of School. Talk about a milepost in our lives -- FDOS is a billboard of one.

I guess D1's FDOS was 1994 -- she would have turned 5 in November of '93 and missed the cutoff for kindergarten. But I recall she was perfectly dressed with hair perfectly combed, and so excited to begin her learning career at Leewood. By First grade, she was clearly the first one finished with tests, perfectly performed, and she nerdily walked between classes holding a book and bouncing into the kid in front of her. The teachers and principals called us in -- skipping kids was rarely done then, but D1 seemed the perfect candidate, and she went -- to second grade. The Spelling Bee was a few weeks after she joined her older classmates, and I recall dropping her off one am saying not to get stressed -- she was new to the grade and it was ok if she struggled. She looked at me straight in the eye and said "Oh no, Daddy, I'm going to win -- I'm the best speller," and she did -- made it to the regionals Downtown where she lost to an Asian or Indian kid. Ha -- the Ds always point out my political incorrectness -- but that's exactly what happened.

Since she skipped, she was 4 grades ahead of D2, so D2's FDOS came 1996. Wifey dropped off both girls with instructions to D1 that she was to walk her sister inside. Wifey parked and observed -- D1 brought D2 to the front door and instructed her where to go when the door opened -- and then walked off to be with her friends. Wifey was angry, and thereafter D1 did as instructed.

FDOS days where I could attend were great. The supplies were new. None of the dunce kids had messed up yet. It reminded me of Opening Day in the MLB -- every team might well win the Series -- until the realities of losing set in during the season.

And today, Little Man begins kindergarten! Baby Man goes to private pre school, and Pre K-3 starts Monday, I think. But the journey of K-12 has its genesis today.

I know I can't be objective, but Little Man is smart as a whip with a vocabulary years ahead of his age. He says things like "Actually..." and "Come to think of it..." In the car the other day, after D1 gave the dog Lemon antibiotics following dental surgery, he asked how germs can find their hosts without eyes. I'm predicting we have another learner on our hands, if not skipper.

D1 is bringing the boys over Saturday -- we're watching them when she goes to a cut-less Bris. Her BFF Alyssa, who always said no babies, surprised us by having her first -- at 37! We're thrilled for her and Freddy -- they're going to be awesome parents. And like lots of Reformers -- no mohel -- the cut was done in the hospital, and there's a party at the house. Wifey and I are invited, but I think we'll save her family from the turmoil of our grandsons -- we'll keep them here and let D1 enjoy.

Saturday Little Man will sleep over, and I'm sure there'll be bagels at first light -- and then I need to get him back home early for his prima Layla's 7th birthday! Man -- I remember when his Mom Vera was pregnant -- she hosted T Day, and was worried that, as a Peruana, she hadn't made it sufficiently American. I told her we might well have been in Oklahoma...

I'm sure Little Man will have tales to tell. He and I already get each other. When I called over Tuesday night, D1 was in the middle of her evening craziness -- feeding the boys before bed time. But Little Man heard my voice on the speaker phone, and said "Grandpa Dave?" I said hello. "I love you" was all he needed to tell me. 

I told him I was excited for kindergarten, and maybe by Middle School we steal him and have him go to Palmetto Middle like his Mommy and Tia Avi. He laughed. You never know...

But I wish all the teachers, parents, and kids a fine FDOS. The traffic will begin to suck again, but what are ya gonna do? Our city is about the future, and FDOS is about the future...

Follow Me For Marital Tips

 Wifey and I draw close to our 39th anniversary, this coming January. Many young people ask me how it was possible she has stayed so long with an insufferable man like me, who barely supported  her and our Ds, lays about all day, and squandered what little money we DID have on vices like drugs and gambling. The answer cannot be revealed in a family blog.

Ha. As if! Last night was a perfect example. Wifey hosted 3 friends for mah jonng. Two of them, Lisa and Deb, are not opposed to an adult beverage, so I poured some white wine for Lisa and made Deb a cosmo -- my go to drink since I buy them pre-mixed from Ketel One -- just cool in a shaker and add a slice of orange. Karen teetotals, and she is moving to Birmingham, Alabama, so I got my own vodka martini and we toasted to Karen having a new "sweet home" in the city where they "love the governor."

Then, Wifey asked me to put on some Sonor music for them -- not "Hard Rock," which I joked was a term probably last used in 1975. But I knew what she meant, and tuned to "Yacht Rock," which played Little River Band, Climax Blues Band, Steely Dan, etc...

When the ladies left, Wifey ran to the library to take a long call from an out of state friend, but she did put the phone down long enough to say "Thank you SO much for making my friends so welcome and happy."

Hey -- it's how I roll -- I would have been most happy in another life as an innkeeper. Which reminded me of the first time Wifey and I were in Key West. As we strolled down Caroline Street, I reflected "Imagine how nice it would be someday owning a B and B?" Wifey, always honest and self aware, answered "I don't cook or clean for my OWN family -- you think I want to do it for strangers?" So yeah -- that never happened.

But the other day, a friend married just a few years was telling me his wife complained he didn't say "I love you" enough. I instructed him to lead his wife into a dark bedroom and have her flip the switch. When the light came on, he was to say "Nice that when you flip the switch, the light comes on, isn't it? That's because I pay freaking FPL and ALL of your expenses. That's called love. Now shut the hell up."

Yes, I really ought to write a guidebook.

Another issue is total honesty in a marriage. Whenever a wife asks if she looks good -- be honest. "I look old, don't I?" The right answer is "Well not mummy old, but pretty old, yeah."

Honesty is the best policy.

Women in particular, it seems, have zero issue accepting aging. A UM site I subscribe to asked about your dorms. I answered that I was so old, both my first dorm, the 1968 Complex, and Building 22, were long ago demolished. A neighbor I'll call Riva, since that's her name, remarked she was there the same years I was and she is NOT old! Ok, I answered -- whatever you say -- even though I passed her house the other day when she was getting into her car and I heard loud creaking...

Snark aside, I found there IS one secret to a long marriage -- humor. Wifey and I still share it. We make each other laugh. We were talking about how each of the Ds were like us -- D1 more like her; D2 more like me. She said "Well, D1 has boundless energy, and I'm LETHARGIC." I would have never called her that, but she so self described, and it was hilarious.

And she points out my foibles in a funny way -- usually.

Yes, laughing together, and sharing those gifts from the Big Man -- our grandsons. I would prognosticate we're going to stick it out past 4 decades...

Catching Up With D1

 So since I'm old as fuh, my Ds are grown ass women, with lots of stuff going on in their lives, including a 5 year old and 3 year old for D1, and a furry child (hopefully to be followed by a human one) for D2. It's VERY rare for Wifey and I to get some alone time, especially with D1, but this past weekend was a happy exception.

The boys were in Naples watching their uncle's soccer team, and she had some professional business in our neck of the woods, and so she spent a few nights with us.

She was busy -- on calls most of the time -- but it still brought back memories of the old days.

She was fighting a sore throat, and wanted to get checked for strep, even though it was improving, and Saturday made an appointment at a close by CVS Urgent Care, located inside of a Target. I drove her over, and recalled it was D2's favorite Target. That's because when she and Jonathan first moved back to Miami, we shopped there one evening for all her needed supplies, and of course I paid for the big cart of stuff -- we joked that it was the "Magic Target" since you could get whatever you wanted and it was free!

Yeah -- I never had that sort of magic once I was a grown up -- but so is the fate of the noble mule that a man of his family becomes...

Anyway, D1 got the test and it was negative, as I suspected, and we decided to bring in some dinner -- we had plans we cancelled for a nice Italian place in the Gables. D1 pre-empted: "NOT DiNapoli." She knows that's our local red sauce spot, but she eats better than we do, and I suggested Anna Capri, more of a gourmet Italian, where I hadn't been in a decade.

Anna Capri is a local favorite -- upscale Italian -- but I had a bad experience there with a snooty host and banned them. Wifey and I wandered in one Saturday evening, and asked for a table. The jerk laughed out loud -- "We are the finest Italian restaurant in Miami. We have no openings like that!" So I went into jerk mode, too, telling him that in fact Il Gabbianno is far and away the best Italian restaurant in Miami, and Salvatore 'D is the best in SW Miami Dade. He huffed and walked away. And I was done with them -- for a decade.

But his offense wasn't really a lifetime one, and I think he was long gone, so D1 and I walked in when they opened at 5 and placed our order. We sat at the bar waiting -- she had a hot tea and I a glass of Chianti, and the food came. D1 got salmon for herself and Wifey; I got eggplant parm.

When we brought it home and Wifey learned she was to eat healthy instead of pasta, she looked at the salmon and said "Ewwww" like the girls on LI used to say when they saw something "gross." But she survived -- eating only the "Well done" parts of what happened to be some really excellent salmon.

After the dinner 2/3 of us enjoyed, the women put on "Too Much," a series created by fat girl Lena Dunham, featuring a zaftig girl and her romantic adventures in London. Wifey and D1 enjoyed it. To be a good sport; I endured until the cutesy dialogue got to be too much and I went to my computer.

Yesterday we got to spend more time with D1, other than said session and calls. 

It was delightful. Since she's typically the high energy Mom, it was so nice to be able to really talk with her again, and rediscover how funny and charming she is as an individual -- not just as a young Mom and provider of our two gifts from the Big Man.

Speaking of whom...the older one starts Kindergarten this week! I reminded D1 how the little boy she carried grew older even though she didn't remember doing so...Yes...we're a "Fiddler" family of sentimental Ashkenazim.

D1 was up early, taking Lemon the skittish Spaniel to the vet. Poor guy, though young, needs a few teeth extracted -- his first year of poor care at a bad breeder set the tone.

Wifey and I really want to steal him. Wifey fashioned a note that said "If you really love me, let me live here where it's quiet and I can be the center of attention." D1 laughed, but reminded us Lemon was indeed HER dog.

The two ladies reached an accord. When Bo, the elderly, lethargic Spaniel crosses the Rainbow Bridge, Lemon can come live with us for awhile.

Since I enthusiastically oppose getting any new dogs, but would take on the housebroken and sweet Spaniel, this made me very happy. We haven't told Bo of these plans, lest he be upset thinking about canine mortality...

But all I

Baked Alaska

 So it's been a minute, as the cool young folks say, since we shared dinner with Loni and Mike. They bought a house in western NC and spend lots of the Summer there, and we did see them for their grandson's one year old birthday, and had one dinner last VD at the former Shula's. But we missed them, and last night worked out for our meeting.

D1 was here following a local appointment, and she greeted her former AP English teacher and uncle of another brother -- I poured champagne and we toasted -- D1's friend Alyssa just had a baby boy! Alyssa and Freddy were, we thought, not in the market for kids, but at 37 Alyssa changed her mind, and a new little guy arrived at South Miami Hospital.

Mike drove us in his plush Jaguar SUV to Christy's, and it was same as it ever was. They celebrated their engagement there 39 years ago, and our server was a good deal younger than 39. We had some adult beverages, except for Wifey, and feasted on steaks, skins, salads, and fine company. For dessert, we went with their old school Baked Alaska -- something you don't often find anymore, except, I guess, on cruise ships for old people.

Mike and Loni had ordered it back in 1986, and it was still delicious last night.

Man -- how have more than 4 decades run past? How have we young grad students and teacher become grandparents? Our memories made together are so precious, and of course we spoke of the upcoming Canes season -- 3 weeks from tomorrow -- Notre Dame, our hated rival!

Loni is the only one still in the elderly parent business -- her Mom Marcia is 90 and living in Atlanta. Marcia was going to be moved back to Miami, as Loni is the main caregiver, but all agreed a move would be too stressful on her -- so Loni travels to the ATL often. The good news is it's on the way to their place in western NC. The bad news is we all agreed none of us are fans of ATL -- lots of traffic and far less to do than in our 305. But hey -- to each their own.

We drove home sated and happy. I slept until 8 -- for me, that's like a normal person sleeping until noon. D1 left for pilates -- Wifey just came down to let our affable exterminator access to the second floor.

My typical morning constitutional has been rained out, at least until the afternoon. We plan to savor having our D1 sans boys -- probably a nice dinner tonight.

She's already seeing this time rush that comes with kids -- her oldest starts kindergarten this week. From kindergarten until teenage years seems to come absurdly fast.

I hope I'm around to see. And hell -- maybe we'll celebrate a family milestone and introduce the boys to Baked Alaska...

Kids Are A Young Parents' Game

 So Saturday D1 came with the boys, and invited 2 OTHER Moms with their kids, too -- lovely ladies from Dallas and the UES, with twin girls and a toddler boy. Little Man said later the toddler was "peach colored," which he in fact was -- adorable all around.

The Moms gave in to my offer of cocktails, and I poured a few vodka tonics and vodka without tonic for myself. It was delightful -- the kids ended up swimming, as we watched, and all swam wonderfully. I ordered some Anthony's Coal Fired pizzas, salads, and wings -- unfortunately Wifey was fatigued and needed to rest when the food came -- so I hosted like a bachelor grandpa.

The Mom friends had a lovely time -- really appreciated a grandparent taste. And then D1 left for home with Baby Man, leaving Little Man here for a fun filled sleepover.

I usually tell him tales of the "Night Bird," which I used to tell the Ds -- a hero bird who flies only at night and rescues lost children and animals, on sea or land. Little Man loves it, but this time HE told us the tale, and it was quite good, about a little boy starting kindergarten who was scared and the Night Bird came to his window to tell him everything would be fine. Curious -- Little Man starts kindergarten in less than 2 weeks!

As expected, at first light he woke me, and headed to House of Bagels, where, sure enough, our bagel girl was there -- she of the VERY white complexion and VERY Black speech. 2 young guys were outside and high fived Little Man for his Panthers jersey, given to him by Norman. He loved it.

But alas -- there were no black and white cookies, so we stopped at Roasters, just as they were opening at 7, and got one, and a happy faced cookie, and a few free cookies thrown in. The plan was to bring the extra cookies to Baby Man, but they had to survive the maw of Wifey first, which they did not...

Later Sunday, Wifey was still wiped out, and so I drove Little Man home. D1 and Baby Man were napping, so we hung out quietly, and then D1 told us she had ANOTHER Mom/kid gettie planned. I said hello to the new set of guests and high tailed it home -- this old guy couldn't take two straight days of little kid parties. This is definitely a young persons' game.

Yesterday D2 drove down to fetch HER baby -- the 95 lb Betsy. She told us one of the guests at her weekend at Lake Geneva was a Cubana from Miami also named Betsy, so the whole time they had to differentiate between "human Betsy" and "dog Betsy..."

We spent some nice time with her, and then she was off to the Shores, leaving us with just the elderly, Special Needs Spaniel, and D1's Spaniel Lemon, who Wifey is scheming to take from D1. D1 is plenty busy with the boys -- we'll see if she relents -- assuming VERY liberal visitation rights.

Today Wifey is hosting her mah jonng group, and my plan is to flee. Luckily Norman is free for dinner, and we have plans to meet at a place TBD. We have critical things to discuss -- Canes first game is 3 weeks from Sunday!

Ah, that most wonderful time of the year...

The Calm Before The Happy Storm

So around 1 or so, D1 is due here with a car packed with 2 boys and 2 dogs. She's been watching Betsy, the enormous puppy, while D2 and Jonathan are in Lake Geneva, WI, enjoying some cool breeze lake time with some couples' friends, one of whose family owns a kick ass house up there. Turns out Lake Geneva is the go-to escape for Chicago and Milwaukee folks...

Since D1 is always overflowing with energy, she also invited a nice family she's met -- NY transplants who moved to Palmetto Bay with twin 4 year old girls. Could she invite them? Of course, I said right away, and Wifey said after a few moments of griping about it. I reconnoitered yesterday during an evening walk -- there are still a few mangoes on the ground, so we can take the covered wagon on a "mango hunt," which Little Man loves, though he reminds us that it only works when his tall Tio Jonathan is along so he can jump into the branches and pull down some of the fruit.

If the new Dad or Mom is a drinker, I shall fix some adult beverages. If not, I shall not.

But it's lovely to have our usually VERY quiet and chill house buzzing with kids and dogs who actually act like dogs, as opposed to our Special Needs Spaniel Bo who rarely moves -- for hours at a time.

The plan is for D1 to leave Little Man and Betsy and Lemon here overnight, so Little Man can wake me at the crack of dawn, and we can make our usual trip to House of Bagels where the retired professor will be outside drinking his coffee and eating his bagel and reading his Sunday Times, and the sweet counter girl, who is VERY white and VERY American and speaks VERY inner city Black greets us and fills our order.

At some point, we will load Betsy and Little Man into the car and re-home both of them, so that D2 and Jonathan can return home later tomorrow evening to a very happy half Great Pyrenees and half Golden Retriever. They love that dog bigly.

I'm saving up my energy for later -- worked out yesterday AND walked my 3 miles -- this am it's just coffee and chilling. I have zero doubt the energy level will be rising here in a few hours.

Wifey and I blasted "Untamed" and enjoyed it. Sam Neill plays an older park ranger, the boss of the main character, played by Eric Bana, and there's a scene where he (Sam Neill) is playing with his granddaughter. He says "I love being a grandpa, but I am TOO damn old to be raising a kid anymore."

Amen. I totally relate to that. Parenting is for the young. Grandparenting -- caring for the kids in, to use our late friend Elizabeth's malaprop, works in small dosages. 

Our former neighbor was my age, and had a whole slew of new babies with his 30 year younger wife. He had plenty of money to pay for nannies, but I would still shudder when I saw myself in that role. Been there. Done that, Paid for college and grad school and took them around the world.

My time has passed. 

But today -- bring 'em on! Ready to run around, walk around with wagons and large dogs -- hell -- maybe even swim.

If only these arthritic joints hold out...

Saber Toothed Tigers

 The history of Humanity is fraught with tragedy. Thousands of years ago, children were snatched up and eaten routinely, by creatures like saber-toothed tigers. Turns out even in modern times, in more rural areas like in Africa and North Florida, kids still get taken and eaten.

These days, though, the reasons for tragedy are violence and carelessness, by other humans. And boy was last week filled with them.

Locally, a moronic barge and tug  captain somehow missed a sailboat in his path, despite perfect conditions, and ran over the camping boat. Two beautiful little girls killed, and according to my friend Joel, who knows one of the families, a third will be leaving us soon as well. Three gorgeous, full of life little girls whose parents just wanted them to be happy and live great lives, enhancing the childhoods by putting them in an old Miami camp that teaches them how to sail.

I can't even imagine the pain. Michelle, the friend close to the parents of the lingering child, must be beside herself. I'm just grateful that Dr. Barry no longer works in the PICU -- he'd have been there absorbing this abject misery. He directs said docs now, but better he keep that distance. As men age, we become more sentimental, and though a young doc's passion to save kids got him through, being closer to grandparenthood than fatherhood is unbearable, I would think.

In NYC a maniac who played high school football and no further decided his loser life was the fault of the NFL, since they "cover up" head injuries. So he strolled into a Midtown office building and shot and killed an off duty NYC cop -- a Bangladeshi immigrant living the American dream, a Haitian security guard, and 2 women business executives, both Ivy League grads -- the youngest just a few years out of Cornell.

Of course, D1 had a connection -- her rich NYC friend's cousin was friends with one of the victims, and reported that the funeral for the rising star was the saddest day of her life.

We invest SO much into our kids, and getting them educated at top colleges is an amazing milestone -- let alone the blessings of seeing them married and becoming parents. And then, in the proverbial NY minute, some loser from Vegas comes in and takes a ballpeen hammer to the beautiful stain glass life we create.

Indeed, life throws us a lot of wrinkles, as my CPA Mark malapropped -- and I guess you just have to accept that.

But again, it gives perspective. There's no "getting over" what happened to the Miami Beach or NYC families. I know -- in my career I repped more families who lost children than I care to recall. Typically the surviving parents would divorce -- unable to look at each other with that never ending grief.

And for those of us dealing with normal ups and downs -- shame on us for EVER feeling they are more than the hill of beans Bogart spoke about in Casablanca.

On a happy note, after a lovely afternoon in the Grove with my partner and brother Paul, where we ate and talked for hours, I came home to a call from Barry -- in the hood on his never ending search for a new car. Was I home? I was.

I ordered us some Carrot Express wraps, and poured ourselves the last of the Stoli Elit Mirta had given me for my birthday. And we and Wifey talked, and talked, and talked -- about how a simple act in one's life affects so many others.

In Barry's case, it was dipping on his commitment to live with Eric and me for the '83-'84 academic year -- his senior year of college and Eric and my first in grad school. That caused Eric and me to have to scramble to find alternate digs, which we did, and living upstairs was...Wifey. 

I made sure to thank Barry profusely for what he did and what that meant.

Nice to laugh on a Wednesday evening, heartily. Tough to think of all the tears.