Adios, 2016

So we ended the year in ways both fun and dutiful.  Yesterday Wifey and the Ds met me at a Merrill Edge office in the Gables, where we did something we ought to have done years before: switch out of our accounts with a long time broker.

Years ago it became silly to pay full price for stock trades, but a long time relationship and inertia kept us as clients of Victoria.  A few years ago, she brought her son in to work with her -- a strapping, charming, and good looking young man, who tends to act without checking details.  When he told me a few years ago, that he would send me a check for a closed mutual account out of my retirement account -- I had to remind him that such a transaction would trigger a hefty IRS penalty.  Oh yeah, he responded.  But we kept on.

Early in the week, we had lunch with our long time brokers, and they announced that their firm was switching to an asset based fee structure -- you pay a percentage of your assets, in return for no commissions.  They told us is was to be 2.75%, which I knew was absurd, but could do it for 1%, still too high for me, as I rarely trade, and then, when I said I was leaving, said, ok, we can do it for .035%.  This made our feelings even more annoyed -- long time "friends" don't negotiate like that.  So we decided to leave, and met with a nice young fellow at B of A who helped us set up new accounts, which I will handle on my own.  Since I check things daily, anyway, this won't be too much of a change.

From there, the Ds and I went to D1's old office, and helped her clean it out -- she's moving after the new year to new digs half a block from her apartment.  We said goodbye to her landlord -- a concierge doc who is both brilliant and a little strange, and he wished her well.

From there, D2 and I went home, and then to buy supplies for a fire pit getty she planned.  On the way home, we stopped in to see her grandmother, newly home from rehab.  The old woman looked sharp and strong as ever -- I don't see her heading to a nursing home any time soon, though Wifey and I are in the process of getting her Medicaid qualified, in case that happens.

Then I came home and tuned in the Orange Bowl game, and D2's friends starting coming over: Elise and Brett, Amanda and Ben, and Carly.  D1 and Amanda have known each other their whole lives, and she met the others in Middle School.  They're all now either working (Ben's a teacher and Amanda works in LA for a talent agency --Carly works in LA, too) or finishing grad school (Elise at UF Law, and Brett getting a UF MBA).  They laughed and compared life stories, and I built them a roaring fire in the firepit outside, where they made s'mores.  The sight of these awesome young folks warmed me.

Later today, Wifey and D2 are going to some new hair salon, and they'll fetch Jonathan, and then D2 and Jonathan will come here, before heading out for a NYE party.  Wifey and I will go to Loni and Mike's -- also to ring in the year with old and dear friends.

2016 was a very good year.  So many FaceBook comments say otherwise -- due to Trump's election, and a bunch of celebrity deaths -- but to me, those events are interesting but not intimate.

As I always tell the Ds, life is unfair, but can often be beautiful and exquisite.  Big Man willing, there'll be much beauty and exquisiteness in 2017.  At the very least, we'll save money off our investment accounts...

It's Like The Fun Never Ends

So late December through early January is always a hectic time for us -- Wifey's birthday, New Year's Eve, and our wedding anniversary January 3.  This year it's even more packed than usual...

Tuesday I got a message from my old law school friend Cheryl.  She and Neal, her husband, and their two boys, were staying near MIA en route to a yacht charter from St. Thomas.  Could we meet for dinner?  We could.

I had them Uber to a little known Argentine/Italian place called Basilico, on 36th street, just north of the MIA runways.  We had a great meal, and learned about their boy Riley's new job -- computer engineer with Drop Box.  Case is in 8th grade and kind of just tolerated all of us.  Perfectly normal.

Neal has become THE record producer in LA, and is up for 4 Grammys this year.  He is so humble -- we had to really pull the details out of him.  Two of his acts are Sara Bareilles and 21 Pilots.

Cheryl has one of the sharpest wits I know, and she is still in fine form.  They're attending a Neal family wedding after their sailing trip, and she was hilarious about the coming party.  After dinner, we piled them into my little girlie Caddy for the short drive back to their hotel.  It was nice to see them.

After a great Wifey-mas, as D1 called it, I realized my beloved Canes were playing on Wednesday night -- last night.  So I invited my posse over (D2 rolls her eyes severely when I refer to my middle aged friends, all white, as "posse.").

During the day, I actually did go to the office and do a bit of work, while Wifey and the Ds, D1's future suegra and sister in law, and a few more friends, went on a quest.  This was a heroic journey -- a pilgrimage, in fact.  They went in search of D1's wedding dress.

Apparently, this is some kind of big deal to brides.  Turned out the posse of women had a great time -- lunch, and only 2 bridal shops -- one in the Design District, and one out on Bird Road that sells "lightly loved" dresses.  I'm told D1 said yes to a dress, and seems now ready for the Big Fat Colombian wedding in September...

Meanwhile, Dr. Barry and Scott arrived, Stella beer and gourmet donuts in hand.  We were going to watch the game up in our football room, but as the cocktails were poured, decided to stay downstairs and watch there.  Next Dr. Kenny came, bringing wings, and then Mike with his boy Chris, and surprise guests daughter Amanda and puppy Chewy.  I hadn't seen Amanda, long one of my favorites, in too long, and it was great to catch up with her and her life in the City of Lost Angels...

Chewy was happily welcomed by our strange infestation of dogs, although none of them were too interested in the Canes.  Next, Norman came, also with beer in tow.  I ordered 5 extra large pizzas from Big Cheese, the UM approved place, and the party was on.

It was delightful.  D2 had come home, and she and her first friend Amanda caught up, making much fun of their fathers, who met when they were three younger than the girls are now.  We talked of Canes from days of yore...

And the Canes won.  Big.  20 years ago, the Canes beat the same team, West Virginia, and it heralded a rebirth of the program, after mediocrity in the mid 90s.  We're hoping this win likewise is a springboard to greater things for our beloved orange and green...

The guests left, Wifey came home tired from a visit to her Mom in rehab, with news the old woman is being discharged Friday.  So now the real fun will begin -- live ins versus nursing home.  D2 left to see her friends Catherine and Tara -- in town from Atlanta and Tally, where they're both finishing law school.

And tonight there's more!  D2's boyfriend Jonathan's family is having us over for dinner...so we'll cruise up to Aventura for that.  I left my little girlie Caddy for service, and they gave me a loaner -- a Caddy SUV.  I like it much more than my regular car.  I'm in no rush to get my car back -- so we'll take the loaner on the never open road...

Saturday if, of course, NYE.  We're going to a neighborhood party at Loni and Mike's.  D1 and Joey have a party in Broward, and D2 and Jonathan are going to BarDot -- a great name bar that I visited years ago.

But wait! There's more!  This week has been like one of those TV ads...don't answer yet!!! Our anniversary is Tuesday, and D2 heads back to NYC.  And then we're meeting our British friends for dinner on the 6th.

And we have to now deal with Wifey's ancient mother -- nursing home versus live in?  So I guess the fun eventually DOES end...

The Quiet of the Cemetery

So yesterday was a continuation of the holiday -- Christmas -- since it fell on Sunday this year.  Wifey wanted to see a movie for her birthday, but somehow never got out of park until later in the day.  But we DID have a family obligation -- my father in law's "unveiling" -- the time when you view the grave marker for the first time.

It was a gorgeous December Miami winter day.  We piled into Wifey's SUV, and I drove -- and went the wrong way.  For some reason, my brain remembers the cemetery as located between Kendall and Sunset Drive -- it's not, it's between Sunset and Miller.  So after enduring the predicted taunts from my modern Ds ("Dad -- there's a thing called GPS -- even better, a thing called Waze") we made our way there, and parked.  Wifey and I went inside to ask for a map -- we hadn't been since last year, and weren't sure where the grave was.  The Ds walked around outside -- checking out the really big machers' walls -- seeing names of the lost grandparents and parents of many of their school friends.

We found our way -- a 5 minute walk.  The head stone was there -- newly polished, you could see -- the grass completely grown in around it where we last saw the filled in hole.  We each placed stones on it, per Jewish tradition, and then read aloud kaddish, the prayer for the dead.  You're really supposed to have a minyan -- 10 men -- when you do this, but, hey -- we figured it's the spirit of the thing that matters.

We took a very sad break, to walk across the small road, to see an enclave of stones of a family  I knew -- the Epsteins.  Murray was a PI lawyer -- a friend of my partner Paul -- a few years older.  We referred him a case or two.  His beloved son Alan, a Palmetto grad, like the Ds, was killed, along with two other UF freshman, in a rollover crash on the Turnpike, in December of 1998.  That haunted me the entire 9 years the Ds went back and forth to Gville.  Wifey made fun of me for often making the trip with them, and then flying home, but Alan's case hit too close to home.

Murray died a few years later -- young -- in his 50s.  His wife Cheryl followed a few years after that.  I think one son survives.

Anyway, we walked back to my father in law's grave, and Wifey asked us each to share a memory about her father.  Unlike some awkward ceremonies like this, where relatives couldn't think of anything to share (the classic joke "His brother was WORSE!" comes to mind), the Ds chimed right in.  For D2, it was being a little girl going fishing with her grandpa at Holiday Park.  Richard would hook a fish, and hand the fishing rod to D2, making her think she had caught one.

D1 recalled how her grandpa would drive her to and attend ALL of her performances -- dance, piano -- you name it, and watch her so proudly.  Wifey recalled being a teenager and walking along the beach on a trip to Tel Aviv -- noticing all of the women looking at her dashingly handsome father -- and feeling so proud of that.

For me, it was the joy and wonder he had about the Ds -- always a loving, very involved grandpa.  One of my grandfathers was already dead when I was born, and the other would die when I was only 4, so I never got to experience what the Ds did, with such a loving, wonderful presence in their lives...

We walked back to the car, and I thought about the words of my maternal grandmother, who would always answer complaints about the craziness of life with the same refrain: "You want quiet?  In the tomb it is quiet."

We stopped to pick up some food, and then headed for home.  D1 left -- she had dinner with friends in Wynwood.  She invited D2, but she opted out.  Instead, Wifey found a Pay Per View movie we agreed on: "Sully."  D1 had seen it and panned it.  We all enjoyed it very much -- causing us to question D1's future as a movie critic...

Wifey took a photo of the gravestone, to show her mother.  My suegra was supposed to go along, but she's in the rehab hospital for several more weeks.  I assume we'll take her back to see her husband's grave in several weeks.  She'll break down, I'm sure.  She loved my father in law completely.

In the mean time, the year draws near to a close.  We have lunch today, all of us, with Victoria, our Merrill Lynch representative.  This may be the final one -- I plan to switch our accounts to the do it yourself Merrill Lynch.  It really makes no sense to pay hundreds for a trade when the online platform charges $6 or less.  But I need to overcome the inertia that keeps me from making changes.

I guess I like most things quiet.  Just maybe not as quiet as the cemetery.

Wifey is the Reason for the Season

So Christmas morning arrived bright and clear, and the Ds, sharing a bed like they used to when they were little girls, emerged -- first D1, complaining about being awakened by her sister, and then D2 saying, essentially, too bad D1.  I so savor having them here together.

We all gave Wifey her birthday hugs, and good wishes, and then we dressed later in the afternoon and headed over to St. Ann's rehab to see my ancient suegra.  It was Christmas, and St. Ann's is a Catholic place, to the facility was PACKED with family members visiting their relatives, and exchanging gifts.  We waved at the icons of St. Ann, or Santa Ana as they call her there -- figuring it couldn't hurt the Suegra, and found her room.

She was strong, and bossy, and looked for all the world that, at 92, she ain't joining her husband in the Great Schtetl in the Sky for quite some time.  She loved seeing the Ds, and remarked, as usual, about their weights -- violating hilariously every rule we've ever learned about talking about young women's weights...  The Ds, both gorgeous, love hearing this from a morbidly obese woman.  So we had some nice laughs.

We left the center and swung back home to see an SUV waiting outside our gates -- it was Ashley, one of D2's BFFs, in from San Francisco and staying in Boca for the holidays.  She said her hellos to the dogs -- especially Bo, the Special Needs Spaniel who she grew to love during grad school in Gville, and then we piled into Wifey's SUV and headed for Tropical Chinese.

What a scene there.  It was packed, and the owner's Mom, a very tough Chinese lady, was barking orders. "Merry Christmas -- now move out of way!"  They did have our table for 12 waiting -- I rushed to claim it before it disappeared into the maw of hungry Jews...

And we all gathered -- our 5 (Wifey, me, the Ds, and Ashley), Deb and Norman, Barry, Donna, and Scott and Josh, and Vince.  Vince is a young lawyer and my protege in the office.  He's a great Irish Catholic guy from LA, and when I learned he was spending Christmas night alone, insisted he join us.  He did, and had a blast.  His parents, (Dad now deceased) are from LI, so he shares a NY sensibility even though he was born and raised in Encino.

Anyway, we sat and sat and sat -- no waiter. After awhile, I had Josh tap the passing Dragon Lady to ask about that, and she said, curtly "Be patient!"  We were, and soon enough, the waiter did come. (Great line from Norman: Usually a shortage of Chinese people is not a big problem in the world.  Tonight, here, it is).

He took our orders, and proceeded to bring a SLEW of gourmet Chinese delicacies.  They really do have the best Chinese food in Florida..  Everyone marveled at the dishes -- some usual, some unusual, and most of us enjoyed a few cocktails, too.  D1 said hello to several friends, and on the way out we saw a well known judge and his husband -- we greeted them, too.

Wifey beamed.  She had an awesome birthday, which number cannot be stated, even though she's now 4 years younger than the Beatles song from Sgt. Peppers where Paul McCartney wonders whether he'll still be needed and fed...

I also politically incorrectly singled out Vince -- made everyone wish him a Merry Christmas, and toasted Scott -- he turned 20 today, and we complimented him for causing, as far as we knew, no teen pregnancies...

We drove home, and D1 left for a friend's dessert party, and then back to her apartment.  She had an early client event on Miami Beach.  D2 and Ashley headed over to Carly's house -- she's in from LA, and Carly's Mom Abby made them delicious brownies.

I fell asleep, knowing I had accomplished the mission -- great birthday for Wifey, Ds and friends all well fed.  Yes -- I am one lucky, rocking Daddy in the USA...

And So This Is Christmas And Chanukah...Well What Have You Done?

Ah, the holidays...other than several years when we'd bring the Ds to visit my sister and brother in law, who put on a Christmas display to rival a decent sized store -- my family makes no big deal over them.  And that suits me just fine...

So much about Christmas seems to be about STUFF -- shopping, wrapping.  Other than my childhood, where I coveted stuff as much as the next kid, I never really went in for it.  I used to say I prized my books and records.  Now, most of my reading is done online, and with satellite radio and the UVerse music channels, it's rare I listen to a "record," if they even still call them that.  I truly care about, oh, 20 books -- a Robert Frost collection I was given when I won English student of the year in 1983 at UM, high school and college yearbooks, "Tuesdays with Morrie," which I figure I need to keep to re-read if the end grows nigh -- the rest of them can be given away and I wouldn't care.  And photos -- most of them are electronic now, too --I'll eventually get around to sending the many albums to the recycling bin.

Still, I realize I'm in the minority.  Yesterday our law firm had its holiday lunch, hosted by Stuart.  The receptionist Wendy asked if I was done with all my Christmas shopping.  I told her I was all set -- instead of being truthful and saying I don't do any.  10 of us walked across the street to a restaurant called Tamarina -- gorgeous space, ok food, absurd service.  Stuart, who paid for the whole thing, got his meal a good 25 minutes after we had all eaten.  When he spoke to the manager, she said she'd "make things right."  That included a round of sparkling wine no one really drank.  I think that'll be the last meal at that place.

In years past, when Paul and I ran our firm with staff, the holiday lunches were loud and raucous.  We were truly close with our staff, and they were all close friends outside of the office.  Yesterday's "celebration" was nice -- the staff appreciated the meal, and then left for their families -- most complaining that they still had "shopping" to do.

When I was in high school, I was close with a girl named Debbie.  Debbie's Dad was Italian, and her paternal grandparents were wonderful people.  They'd invite me over for Christmas Eve, and share a bountiful table of cold cuts and fish and pasta.  The family was so close, although after I moved to Miami, I learned that Debbie's parents had divorced -- like so many of my friends' parents who simply waited for the kids to finish high school before going their separate ways.  Still, those are lovely memories for me.

When the Ds were little, my in laws would come over, and Rachel would fry up delicious latkes.  We'd give them gifts, and light the menorah, and sing the songs they had learned at the JCC and Chabad Hebrew School.  One year, we went to a Chanukah party at our friend Mona's house -- her mother was a fellow Holocaust Survivor and card playing friend of my mother in law.  Genia made her latkes -- the most delicious I had ever tasted.  I went on and on about them, and my own mother in law heard.  The old woman always said she liked me a lot but never really did -- I have a feeling that my latkes betrayal had a role in that.

Today, D1's fiance is off to sky with his buddies, and D2 is due to arrive at MIA around 6.  D2's man is coming from NY in a few days, so this first night of Chanukah it'll be just the four of us -- like the nights of their childhood.  We'll light the menorah, and bring in some dinner, and sit around with our surfeit of dogs.  I can't wait.

Tomorrow, Wifey has a major birthday.  We have reservations at Tropical Chinese, at 5.  Dr. Barry and his family will join us, as will Norman and Deb.  Yesterday at lunch, our young associate Vince mentioned he was just staying in on Christmas night -- no plans.  His family is in LA and North Carolina, and he just visited for T Day.  He's Irish Catholic, and I told him it was Jewish tradition no NOT allow a Christian to be alone Christmas night -- so he may join us at Tropical, too.  I told him he'd run into many of the judges he knows -- a good portion of South Miami Dade Jewry goes to Tropical each Christmas, and since Vince lives in South Miami now, it'll be a short drive.  I hope he comes, too -- the more the merrier to celebrate Wifey's birthday.

So: shopping:  none done: check.  Decorating:  none done, except for putting the electric menorah in the window: check.

We're all ready for the holidays.  As for me and MY house, we celebrate Wifey...

In the Shadow of the Evening Trees

The glorious weather has returned with the second day of Winter today.  It's still a bit warm, but the humidity is fine, and the breezes blow in a lovely way off the ocean.

Our friends Sheryl and Mark are here from Boston, and asked us to play hookey with them the day before they leave on a 10 day cruise.  We agreed.

I had a meeting on Brickell, which could wait, and so our friends came over around 1, and we took Wifey's plush SUV down to Black Point Marina.  We ate fresh fish, and conch, and walked around the marina, watching the pelicans and cormorants swoop, and schools of mullet swim in the water off the dock.

We thought about heading to Knauss Berry Farm, but no one had room for milkshakes, and besides, Wifey likes to turn guests onto Chill-N, a local yogurt and ice cream shop that makes extra creamy desserts using liquid nitrogen as a cooling agent.  It works -- Sheryl and Mark said it was some of the best they tasted, and Boston, where they live, is a world class ice cream town.

We came back home, and talked for hours -- comparing dysfunction of our extended families.  Sheryl hasn't spoken to one of her brothers in years, and Mark has a sister he last talked to when his daughter was born -- 28 years ago.  Poor Wifey is an only child.  She had no tales to tell...

Our friends left, and I walked outside to open the front gates.  It was completely dark, at 6 pm.  The temperature was perfect.

The next door neighbor Alfredo was hanging lights on a new playground he had installed for his small kids.  I heard him lovingly speak to his 2 year old daughter, who watched him at his task.

Across the street, John and Monica were stringing Christmas lights on their newly trimmed palm and tab trees.  Christmas is just a few nights away.

I looked at the sky -- the stars were coming out, and easily seen during this new moon period.  I thanked the Big Man for all his manifold blessings.

Wifey and I still have a trip to make to see her ancient mom -- finishing week 1 in rehab.

When we return, I think the chaise lounge outside has my name on it...you can never get enough of lovely, warm Miami winter night air...

Dow 20,000 from Dow 2000

Money, money, money.  In college I studied Literature, and Business seemed so irrelevant.  Then  I went to law school, and realized pretty soon I didn't particularly like being a lawyer.  But, I reasoned, if I could make a good amount of money doing it, I could at least tolerate it.  And I turned out to be one lucky SOB in that arena.

Yesterday I was talking to Pat, one of 4!! financial planners Wifey and I use.  We're not that rich, but over the years we've opened accounts at different places, and somehow ended up with Pat, in a small brokerage, Victoria, from Merrill Lynch, Oui, from Morgan Stanley, and Natalia, from Chase.

Of the four, the only one whose advice I truly trust is Pat's.  The others, though nice enough, and once in awhile providing perks, seem to only be salespeople who follow whatever their large companies tell them to sell.  Pat, on the other hand, takes the time to really study and analyze investments.  He has performed much better, by far.

Of course, luck plays into it, too.  17 years ago, Pat urged me to invest about $20K in a company then on hard times, called Apple. That turned out pretty well...

Over time, when I overcome inertia, I'll phase out the others, and simply open accounts with discount brokers.  I have one with Merrill already, and it seems folly to pay thousands of dollars in commissions when we buy or sell stocks versus the $5 trades Merrill Edge provides.

So Pat called yesterday, to discuss the fact that the Dow was nearing 20,000.  He doesn't put much into so called market milestones like that, but it got us to do some investment reminiscing.  He asked me when I first invested in the market.  It took me back...

It was 1987.  Wifey and I owned our first house, thanks to a gift of $10K my mother made to each of us three kids.  We took $8650 of that money, and used it as the 10% down payment on our first place -- a 1500 square foot Kendall house on a 1/3 acre lot that looked enormous because of the tiny house size.  We loved that place -- it looked like it was in our beloved Coconut Grove, with an enormous banyan tree out front.  We lived there happily with our pre-kids -- dogs we treated like our children -- Midnight the Lab, and Alfred the Cocker Spaniel.

Wifey already had money saved -- about 6,000, and with my Mom's fist, I had $2000.  Wifey had a co worker named Kathy, and her husband Ronnie was a broker with Drexel Burnham.  He convinced us to open our first brokerage accounts, and we did -- IRAs, and a small non retirement account.  It was, I think, August of 1987.

I asked Pat what the Dow was then -- he said about 2000 -- a tenth of today's size.  In October, Wifey and I took a trip to D.C. to see her friend Dolly, and tour the capital.  On Monday, we visited Congress.  Congressmen were running around -- many leaving the floor to make calls.  Were we at war, I wondered.  No -- it was Black Monday -- the day the stock market crashed.

We returned from Miami, and got a call from Ronnie -- don't panic, he said, even though your statements will show you lost half your money!  Caramba!  Is this what happens -- you put in your life savings, and lose a big chunk of it?

We stayed the course, of course, and over not too long recouped our money.

Alas,  Drexel went out of business, and the marriage of Ronnie and Kathy likewise failed.  Wifey and I are still a going concern...

So I mark the time -- 30 years since we started investing, and our 30 year wedding anniversary is coming up soon, too.

I've tried repeatedly over the years to get Wifey to learn about investing -- taking her to seminars given by the bankers, showing her statements on the computer...but she has no real interest.  My Mom was exactly the same -- my Dad would tell her the money situation was fine, and that was all she needed to hear.  I guess many of us DO marry our mothers, after all...

So the Dow may hit 20,000 today, or maybe not.  If new president Trump and his completely GOP congress do what they say, the market may well continue to soar -- making us richer and richer, on paper...

Tonight I have a meeting with some very close friends, to discuss a private investment -- a biopharmacology company geared to hopefully find a cure for nasty sickness in children.  My first interest is to help in the research, but there's a component that the company might well make a lot of money.  That'd be grand, of course, though I'll probably keep driving the little girlie Caddy.  Nah -- if this thing hits really big -- maybe I'll move up to the slightly larger model.

All I know for sure is that time keeps flowing, like Alan Parsons Project tells us...a river, to the sea.  It'll be interesting to mark it with where the Dow is years from now...

I