Consolation Prize For Myself

 So as we get closer to the Big Natty Monday, I'm more and more happy with my decision to not spend close to my first year's salary as a lawyer for 2 good seats and a parking pass. Just this am Norman told me that if you park in Yellow, where most of my crew is, you have to pass security to get in, and then again to get to the Orange lot, and finally a third time to access Joe Robbie. I guess The Donald's decision to attend, along with Rubio, the Viceroy of Venezuela, have made already tight security even more onerous.

As I was surfing the web, I saw something that caught my eye from early teen years: Burton Cummungs had rejoined Randy Bachman for the first time in decades, and they were touring again as The Guess Who. I always dug those Canadians -- I think "These Eyes" is one of the most romantic ballads ever, and "She's Come Undun" one of the most poignant songs ever about a woman losing her stuff. I checked -- decent tickets at the OTHER Hard Rock are about $120 each, and so I asked Wifey.

She said "Nah." Not a big fan, she'll be 3 days just off her wild mah jong cruise, and the thought of driving that far as her back still rears its ugly head caused her to give a thumbs down. But, would she mind if I went with the ladies we took to Stevie Nicks? She would not: "Have a great time!"

So I shouted out to the girl band from Nicks, replacing Jacqui with Wifey (Jacqui was an original Stevie Nicks participant but when Nicks broke her shoulder and the concert re-set, Jacqui had a conflict). I bought 4 tix today, telling these "American Women" we were on ! And maybe this time I won't drunkenly drop $120 in cash onto the floor of the Uber. But no guarantees.

And the truth is, though this show is costing a fraction of Nicks, I am MUCH more excited. I mean, I loved watching the ladies love Stevie Nicks -- female empowerment and all that crap -- but Burton Cummings???!!! That's guy's voice on my Marantz stereo got me some traction back in the day...

And the show is only 6 weeks away, so hopefully the late 70s and early 80s guys make it to the date without breaking anything... Ha. As I type this, Bob Weir is singing on my Sonos. He ain't giving no more shows...

So the weekend draws nigh. I may Zoom with Eric and crew, and maybe after with Barry and Crew, and do some serious cool air walking tomorrow. Sunday we meet D1 and the boys in the Grove and take Little Man home. I just found out our new roof project begins Monday am -- they'll have conveyor belts parked out front to lift the supplies up high. Little Man will LOVE that -- D1 says there will be SO many questions, and Grandpa Dev is here to answer them.

At some point Monday we'll re-home him, hopefully avoiding any "Wheels Up, Guns Down" knuckleheads who have decided the way to honor MLK is to terrorize motorists on the highways on ATVs, and then make it back here to host Dr. Barry and family.

The arm of Stol Elit shall be ceremoniously opened, some mandarins mixed in, and we will toast the Canes. I happen to think we'll beat the Hoosiers like Tom Petty's "Last Dance for Mary Jane" beats anything Hoosier John Mellancamp wrote as far as girls from Indiana go, but if not -- well -- still a hell of a season.

And soon after, Wifey will be a pirate of the Caribbean again, and I will be an 8 day bachelor -- dinners at the bar at Captains Tavern, and Sea Siam. And after that, well, it'll be time to "Share the Land."

Game Plans Set --Fate Keeps Me Home

So at noon my friends and I all joined the virtual queue on the Canes site to await the chance to order Natty tix. Barry, for example, a Canes Club Member 30 years and Med School Faculty member for 34 got special preference. Norman and Mike, second generation Canes with TONS of tickets and seniority, also qualified. I've been a Canes Club member 35 years, and contributed well over $100K to UM, so I got priority.

Ha! None of the above happened! We ALL got shut out! I only heard of one person getting tix, and it was Alex's friend -- I think he had the savvy to join the queue at the earliest time. We all watched our devices for 30 minutes, a little stick figure man who moved very little. Finally the little man disappeared -- "Sold Out."

Honestly, I was relieved. Barry is the only fellow schlepper who didn't buy tickets in the earlier opportunity -- Eric, Norman, and Mike all had tix, but needed more. The thought of crappy seats, even for face value of $800 or so, coupled with the no real tailgating for me, made my sofa a VERY attractive option.

Also, I've been to 2 Nattys for the Canes -- '84 and '88, so this is hardly a "once in a lifetime" thing for me. Finally, Scott decided to fly down from D.C., since his CNN wife will be off in Davos, and so now I can host a proper watch party. I have a large arm of Stoli Elit which will be drunk, and I will order some mandarin oranges to mix in. Scott loves the politically incorrectly named Chinese place Takee Outee, and so we will likely order from there, and watch, and laugh, and drink -- heavily for me, at least. I already told my trainer no workout Tuesday am -- he said ALL of his clients, Canes fans all, have done the same.

So game plans are set. And on Sunday, we meet D1 and the boys in the Grove, and spend some time with them, and then take Little Man home with us. That means there'll be bagels at first light, before I re-home him Monday early afternoon -- then maybe a nap before Barry and family arrive.

Last night, Wifey hosted her mah jong friends. I poured Lili a few Negronis, which gave me my own license to have a few Belugas myself, and I was feeling fine. I applaud those who avoid or limit alcohol. I'm sure it's very healthy and wise. But for me -- well -- a couple of pops really makes me happy.

Anyway, I started feeling romantic -- must have been the fact that 5 mid 60 women were just down the hall. And I wanted a cookie, but no way was going to drive out to get one. So I went to my trusty UberEats app and saw a company called Crumbl -- cookies in 20 minutes!

I ordered a dozen, and in no time they came in a pink box. I brought them to the breakfast Knock, as my late suegra called the Nook, and made some women VERY happy. One said "Wow -- my husband is great, but not THIS great." Yep, I told her, it's how I roll in these parts...

So it was a lovely Tuesday.

Thus far, 2026 is starting out pretty, pretty, pretty good. Then again, I thought 2020 was going to be a banner year -- the one of "perfect vision." Instead we got the Plague. 2021 brought us Wifey's stroke and the death of our dear sister Elizabeth. Amazing these events are now half a decade in the past.

The lesson is you never know WHAT you're gonna get. The only thing certain is that however long I have left to live -- that number is DECREASED by one day, tomorrow. So I think I'll savor tomorrow, and all of the days.

I was reading some psychology about negative nancys -- the folks who put down everything and everyone. Turns out they have grave insecurities about themselves, and feel by demeaning others, they raise their own self esteem. 

I can't imagine anything more pathetic. I want others to soar -- especially my family and friends, so they can treat ME for a change.

All I know is, the upcoming days are those of excitement. And, as it turns out, minimal hassle of fighting crowds at Joe Robbie. So Go Canes! Go 2026. May they both be winners. 

The Tension Builds. Not Really

 So due to my laziness, I opted out of buying the playoff package for the Canes when they got in -- I could have actually made money selling tix to A and M, Cotton Bowl, and Fiesta Bowl, but I was soured by my recent foray into ticket selling with Stevie Nicks. I bought 4 tix to see her, and they moved the date. Sure, I could have sold for more than I bought, but after deducting the Ticketmaster fees, I would have netter half -- so we went and had a fine time.

So instead, today at noon I find out whether my loyalty as a Canes Club Member for decades scores me 2 fact value tix. Ha. I think it's random based on 2026 season ticket renewals and joining Canes Club -- I have heard IU fans joined and bought cheapest of seasons tickets to get on the same list as me! Good for them.

Truth is, if I don't get the tix -- that's ok. My son in law Jonathan wants to go, and it'd be great to take this relatively new Canes (actually ALL American football) convert to the Natty, but if I watch on my sofa, with some healthy martinis and take in Italian -- that's ok, too.

Most of my friends already scored their tix -- I think Barry is my only fellow schlepper awaiting the noon opening to buy tix -- he wants 2 for his boy Scott and himself -- Scott will fly back from D.C. to attend -- Josh loves the tailgates but can give or take the actual games.

Wifey already told me she didn't care to attend with another woman's legs! So we'll see.

I remember well when the Canes were soaring annually, and Ed Perse, my mentor in law and life, was a huge fan, with 50 yard line OB seats. One year, when Ed was, I guess 60, there was a Saturday night match against hated Notre Dame. He gave Jeff and me his tickets, saying "I got a gorgeous game room with my barber chair and a few friends coming by. Do I want to fight the traffic and mess of the OB?"

I was shocked. Would I ever get that old and more into comfort than our love of the orange and green? Turns out I would.

The cheapest tickets to get in to the game, after market, are $3500  -- and that's last row in the upper deck -- closer to the International Space Station than the field. Sure -- I could afford them, but no way. Just yesterday I opened some new college accounts for the grandsons -- THAT made me happy. Making a ticket broker richer doesn't.

But the best tale of tix came the other day. A former secretary who started a business texted -- she had a skybox with 12 seats for sale -- came with 4 parking passes and food and drink -- a mere $200K! Turns out her boys, who run the company, used Covid SBA money to lease the box, and have been doing well selling for a profit for big events -- like major games, Taylor Swift,etc... Good for them, though I'm guessing the future of the business is not one to invest in with those kinds of business decisions.

I wrote back that the box was too rich for me, but I've learned the joy of receiving, instead of giving, like I used to. She replied yes-- I was always a giver, but somehow my comic request for 2 FREE seats to the box wasn't answered. What are ya gonna do?

So I learn in a few hours what's what. If I get them, then Jonathan and I will have to bum rides, or maybe D2 can drop us off somewhere, and then fetch us at a convenient place, like Tootsie's Gentlemens' Club -- in Miami Gardens. Ha. A visit there with me would creep out even my coolest of son in laws forever...

I stay tuned, or at least near my computer. Either way -- Go Canes!

Garden Party

 So Wifey and I put on some dressy-ish duds and headed over to the Kampong yesterday -- David Fairchild's home, now a National Botanical historic place. We were invited by our neighbor Gloria's boys to attend a surprise birthday party for her -- and once I navigated the tough to find entrance off Old Cutler, we were in. The invite said "Cocktail attire," but when I arrived I saw NO guys in jackets, so I left my blue blazer in the SUV. I have to fetch it later today.

The Kampong is lovely, especially in more temperate weather. We saw Gloria -- not very surprised. Turns out her boys told her -- they needed her help to get the usually private venue booked up. She looked lovely -- all "dolled up" as Wifey's Canarsie-ese described her, and enjoying the moment. Several fellow neighbors were there, including Ellen, and older lady (her youngest grandkid is 30) who moved away a few years back, and is now living on Brickell in a rented penthouse, which she crowed about to Wifey's "Ya see?" delight. Yeah, no, as we say in the 305 -- not for me. 

Ellen is a lady I initially disliked -- a know it all type from NYC -- but came to like her a lot. Part of it was learning how great a mother in law and grandma she was -- to me, sort of the measure of a woman.

We caught up, and then were led into the old patio area -- there was nice food, and as it turned out for me, luckily more wine poured. I say luckily since there was a well intentioned but ultimately comically bad idea -- a lecture about local botany and gardening that went, pun intended, deep into the weeds.

I guess we expected 10 minutes of "Hey - welcome - this is who we are here and what we do -- maybe compost more and join us," but instead got probably an hour of details about the career of a very nice, nerdy young scientist -- we could barely hear him.

Our table HAD 2 of the master gardeners, and we kept talking and laughing -- getting shushed a few times. But the truth is, it was hard to hear anyway, and what there was to hear was the stuff that bored me in Bio class at UM in 1979. So we rudely soldiered on.

After the lectures mercifully ended, we went back to socializing out loud --neighbors we really like but rarely get to spend time with. David is a VERY successful class action guy -- Barry helped save one of his daughters when she was born, and David's late Dad was THE Peds surgeon at Jackson. He's a serious, pretty tightly wound guy, but I get good energy from him, even though he laughed off my suggestion he drink more wine at the event.

Yesterday was walking -- lots of it - and then hosting Joelle and Kenny and hearing tales of their adventure to SE Asia and them hearing tales of our less adventurous cruise, and then a short drive to Old Cutler Inn, which had comically slow service and mediocre food -- it'll be a one and done for us. Too many great restaurants in Miami these days to endure mediocrity -- but the main thing was the company, and it was grand.

Today off the the gym, and a deconstruction of the Fiesta Bowl with my trainer Jonathan, and then a call to the Mom about the GAL case I have.

Soon February will make me shiver, with every paper I deliver...Actually, BIG cold front coming later this week, which means firepit time -- my favorite time in Miami.

Kids Are For The Young

 Probably 8 years ago, our next door neighbors were a successful Cuban lawyer, about my age, and his former stripper, Mainline Philly Jewish, much younger wife. Really. Classic only in Miami neighbors. The lawyer, who I'll call Alfredo, since that's his name, had grown kids like mine -- one a lawyer and one a doctor. He adopted his daughter-aged wife's son, and then had 4 (maybe 5) more kids with her. They build an awesome tot lot on the side of their house.

When I saw it, I said "Wow -- I hope to have grandkids someday, and they can play on that." He replied "David -- grandkids??? You're MY age -- have some more kids of your own and let them play here!" I asked whether he realized my wife was WELL past fecundity, and he said "I know -- she's nice and all, but successful guys like us -- well -- you know..." I chuckled, and thought I didn't care to fish in that pond with HIS flyrod, so to speak. 

Sure enough, they moved, to a huge mansion they build on Old Cutler, and the young couple who moved in, with kids my grandkids age, often have our boys over to play on the lot. Yeah -- I prefer it this way.

Last night, Rabbi Moshe and his wife Chaya hosted a family shabbat, and D1, who had never seen the new Center, braved Friday traffic with her boys to attend -- she has Mom friends here in Pinecrest, though she is now a near Miami Shores Mom.

It was lovely -- probably 25 kids running around, playing, and taking part in the games Chaya and Moshe led. Yossi and Nechama were safely in their own house, hosting THEIR shabbat and babysitting Moshe's youngest.

We met some newly arrived from NY grandparents -- they followed D1's new Mom friend and her husband from NY -- Wifey bonded with the grandma, in a wheelchair with MS but happy to be away from icy sidewalks.

I got to hang with my boys, who I sort of favor, and then, at the end of the few hours, they were whisked home by D1. Ah... 

It struck me, that even though I'm in decent physical health for a creeping up on 65 year old guy -- kids are for young people. Even with nannies (who if I had them would look like Alfredo's wife), a guy like me to whom kids and grandkids are a source of love but also constant worry -- nah -- don't need no more of my own.

Wifey and I came home, and watched the first half of the Hoosier-Duck game to learn the Canes opponent in the upcoming Natty game 1/19. I go online Tuesday at noon to see if my decades of Cane Club membership scores me a few tickets. If not, as I told Wifey, barring an extra one from higher up Canes Club friends I can buy for face value, I will happily watch on TV.

I can afford an expensive ticket, but again, the laziness of age says...nah! We'll see next week.

This am, Wifey and I are headed to The Kampong -- a botanical historic garden where famed plant maven David Fairchild lived. I've been a few times before -- friends Lew and Maria used to belong to the Flowering Tree society, and so we got to go to events there. Today, there's a surprise luncheon and lecture for our neighbor and friend Gloria, hosted by her sons. It was nice to be invited, even though "cocktail attire" at 11 am on a Saturday is not my vibe, as the kids say. I thought about showing up in Canes shorts and t shirts saying THIS be my cocktail attire -- but I guess I can manage a blue blazer...

Then tomorrow we see Joelle and Kenny for the first time since last year. They stopped by before their 3 week adventure to SE Asia -- fortunately they survived the murder hornets of Laos and made it back. We have lots of catching up to do -- they'll come for a pre-game, and then we plan on checking out the newly reopened Old Cutler Inn -- a REAL old school place that had been shuttered a long while.

Then Monday I have some real lawyer work, albeit pro bono. I've been appointed a guardian ad litem to review a proposed settlement for a kid -- bullied at his middle school. I already reviewed the file and will speak to the boy and his Mom Monday -- they relocated upstate after the unfortunate incident.

Hopefully we see the boys this week -- I think next Sunday, Little Man is spending the night. At the shabbat last night, Baby Man, looked at me with his soulful eyes and said "GRanda Dave -- can I stay, too?" I told him when he is FULLY potty trained -- that's a carrot we're holding out for him. I expect that will be well before his next birthday in July...then I'll have TWO little boys up at first light for bagels and black and white cookies.

It's grand, all right, especially since I give them back a day or so later...and then go nap.

Canes Buzz

 When a team is having a great season, the entire city is abuzz -- and for me, when it's the Canes, that's especially true. We watched them upset Ohio State as 2025 ended for us in San Juan Harbor, causing the most memorable New Year's for me since '83-'84, one whose details, if revealed, would cause nausea for many...

Yesterday I took Wifey over to Baptist for an epidural injection, to try to help the back pain that has once again reared its ugly head. The check in guy, with the heavy Creole accent, saw my Canes shirt and threw up the U. At least half of those waiting were in Canes swag, and we all greeted each other with "Go Canes!"

When I took Wifey back to the pre-procedure room -- same thing with the nurses -- Go Canes, throwing up the U. I didn't bother the tall, handsome doc who was going to do the injection -- I had read he was a double Wolverine, anyway, but the hospitalist threw up the U. The anesthesiologist was a woman of some undetermined Eastern European background, with an accent I sword sounded just like Andy Kaufman's Latka Gravis. She wasn't part of the spirit, either, but did a fine job.

I went to get a coffee at the Baptist atrium, and before I had drained my cup, I got a call. Oh crap! Had they dropped Wifey off the gurney? Nope -- they were all done, and I saw her in recovery -- with a nice nurse with a clear Bridge and Tunnel accent and demeanor.

I chatted with Allison and asked about her background. Mercy in the Grove "when I first moved to Miami," and Baptist for 2 years. When she told me she lived in Bensonhurst and Staten Island, I said "Oh -- so you're Italian?" Of course -- nailed it. Wifey was unimpressed by by geographical and sociological grasp of my native state.

I drove Wifey home, and she napped. I avoided Miriam as much as possible -- it was her 72nd birthday and Wifey asked when she was finally retiring -- an event we long for -- but she said HER pain is better by moving -- she wanted to keep on. I suggested maybe Wifey do some more of that -- SHE clean the house instead of Miriam -- and Wifey smirked "I KNEW you'd say that!"

Miriam left, and Wifey discovered Miriam had popped a pair of expensive sneakers into the washing machine -- probably ruined them. I reminded Wifey you literally have to HIDE stuff from Miriam that you don't want her to wreck...

Anyway -- the buzz is in the air for tonight. Since we're superstitious, we plan to recreate the energy we created for the first upset playoff win. Barry is coming over after work. His boy Josh will watch the first part of the game with Norman and Benji, at Benji's apartment in Kendall, and then join us for the ending.

Hell -- it worked last time -- why not tonight?

I hope we win -- tonight we're favored over Ole Miss -- a game folks are calling Confederates versus Convicts. Ha -- so old. Canes haven't had convicts in years, and it's not like anyone flies Confederate flags anywhere anymore - right?

I invited Chris over, since his Dad has flown to Phoenix, and Chris has a wedding. He had to beg off because of said wedding's activities, but told me his wife is expecting baby number 2 this Summer. I was thrilled for my friends, and told them whatever Canes do -- he made my week.

Not really , Chris corrected me. We STILL need the Canes to win, and I get it. He's a third generation orange and green guy -- I'm only a new immigrant to the shores of Cane-hood, though I started there 47 years ago.

So Go Canes! Let's make it to the Natty -- right here in our home stadium. That'd be awesome.

Sailing Into 2026

 So I got the idea for a NYE cruise a few months back -- wanting to celebrate the new year bigly. Barry, Mike, Donna, and Loni were game, and we booked a San Juan back to Miami trip -- and then the Canes complicated things! Damn team is great this year, and there would be a playoff game on NYE! Worse --- since we'd be sailing back to San Juan harbor, we were an hour ahead -- would our grand trip be really a watch party? Well, it worked out -- the Canes won with minutes (before the ship's horn signaled the new year) and we celebrated in grand style.

Since I always think in song lyrics, Jimmy Buffet's applied here: "It's been a lovely cruise." On Sunday Wifey and I navigated the busiest  I had ever seen MIA (it was the Sunday post Xmas) and made our flight fine -- a bit over 2 hours to San Juan. We met at the Sonesta with our crew, who had flown in earlier, and I got an immediate feeling.

Whenever I visit a place for the first time, I either get a good vibe, neutral one, or negative one. And San Juan was the first -- I dug the place right away, even though we spent just a day there. For dinner, Donna picked a steakhouse in the Fairmont Hotel next door, and it turned out the place was historic -- rat pack era -- casino and banging nightclub in the lobby. After our first large meal (there were a couple -- 25 -- during the trip) we listened to Fania type salsa, which I love -- Tito Puente and Celia Cruz stuff.

The next am a van fetched us for the overpriced short trip to the ship. Wifey and I had taken an Explora before -- Barbados to Miami -- but Mike and Loni and Barry and Donna were rookies. We knew Mike and Loni would love it -- we feared a lot of eye rolling from Barry since the cost is easily 4 times his usual Royal or Celebrity.

Nope. He was hooked -- already wishing to go again -- maybe even a repositioning cruise! Mission accomplished -- a man who needed a great trip more than anyone of my dear friends got it and more.

The only negative, which ended up just being an unforgettable event, was the first excursion in Anguilla. It was a hike in a plantation to a cave, and the brochure said "uneven surfaces." Well -- Donna fell 5 times and Wifey twice. Barry got dragged down one time, and ended up with a badly skinned shin. The hike was truly meant for much more agile and young folks than we -- I lucked out because of my weekly balance and strength training -- I was able to support Wifey most of the trek -- except for twice, when she went down like a sack of potatoes.

But again -- no fractures -- and we decided to cancel the following day's  hike on St. John, and even though it was within the no cancel time, the ship happily refunded the money -- in cash! As the young agent counted off the bills to me, I told her I couldn't recall the last time a young attractive woman paid ME cash -- really any woman at all. She laughed -- I hope I managed to be only minimally creepy.

The rest of the week was a drink and food fest -- with a nice easy tour of Puerto Plata in a private van -- great beachside lunch on the way back to the ship.

After that, the only stop was Key West, and we just walked a bit and headed to Blue Heaven -- alas -- a 1.5 hour wait. I told the hostess our ship would be sailing by then -- we found a serviceable tiki bar type place and had some good fish sandwiches and buckets of vodka and grapefruit juice. Really.

We toasted our manifold blessings. A lot. Barry and I solved all the world's problems on the top deck, in lounge chairs, as the sun set beatifully. It was SO romantic -- until Wifey ruined it by showing up. Ha.

Last night was Sakura -- amazing sushi and pad thai. We said our farewells, and all agreed it was an a (pause) mazing trip.

Barry and Donna were to be fetched by Josh -- Mike. Loni, Wifey and I found Uber issues and so piled into a cab van -- we dropped Mike at his Downtown office -- marveling at the new "Signature bridge" being built. I used to say Miami was a new city every 10 years -- now it's every 5.

The driver then headed south, and dropped off Loni and Wifey and me at our house. For the final bit of hilarity, I noticed the driver, before leaving, walked across the street to our neighbor's wooded area -- and had himself a nice, long piss. I told Loni to turn around, and got the predicted "Oh Lord, Dave!" It seemed appropriate to end with a belly laugh -- as we ended 2025 with some, and began 2026 with others.