So thanks to the neighbors' barking dogs, I was up well before the dawn this am. With the cooler weather, the windows are open for fresh air for sleeping, but, alas, the transplanted Brooklynites let out their big dogs at 11:30 p.m., which was ok, as the barking stopped, but then treated us to a nasty wake up at 4:30.
Hopefully my friendly email does the trick, and the cool nights are again quiet. Ah, neighbors. We live on acre lots here, so you'd think neighbor noises wouldn't be a problem. You'd be wrong -- especially as our windows are on the side of the house closest to the dogs' yard. It just reinforces my feeling that I NEVER want to live in a condo. A few barking dogs are one thing -- having folks above, below, and to both sides of your walls isn't my thing.
But, since the sun won't rise for another 1.5 hours or so, I did something I rarely do - -read the latest Florida Bar News. Typically I just peruse the Discipline and In Memoriam Sections, and must have missed the E issue that came out December 1.
The Discipline Part is usually the same thing -- lawyers thinking the Trust Accounts belong to them, and they just "borrow" until they can replenish things. That's the undoing of our late friend Alan, who lost his ticket decades ago. He'd settle a PI case, use funds from unpaid medical bills for his gambling and party lifestyle, and then replenish the funds when another case was settled. Finally, though, he told a client that the client needed to wait to get paid after word came from his doctor about a disputed fee. Problem was, the client was the doctor's friend. The client demanded his money, and when Alan couldn't pay, told the Bar. Alan's trial followed within a year.
All told, about $1M was missing. Paul and I are loyal friends, and Paul testified at Alan's disbarment hearing -- trying to convince tough ass Judge Amy Donner that Alan needed therapy instead of disbarment. The Judge asked Paul: "If I can't disbar a lawyer who stole $1M, who can I ever disbar?" It was a good question -- Alan became his former associate Dave's paralegal.
Ah -- that all happened at another place in time.
Turning to the "In Memoriam" section, I saw a name I hadn't recalled in years: Sybil Meloy. She was the head of a long gone Miami Company, Key Pharmaceuticals', legal Department. She hired me as a law clerk the Summer after my 1L year -- she liked that I was a Chemistry minor in college, and figured that would be useful.
It was. I got some of the scientific jargon in patent applications that may have stumped my fellow 1Ls -- at least I had a working knowledge of research and how it worked. She was a fine lady -- VERY smart, and kind. I learned a lot from her. I heard that after leaving Key, she moved up to Lauderdale and had a long career for a big firm -- there and in D.C., where all of the Patent Law gets done.
And that memory took me back to that seminal Summer of 1984 -- my first with Wifey. She was living with a friend, Stephanie, in North Miami, pretty close to where we now spend a lot of time fetching the grandson at preschool -- Biscayne and 135th Street. She had moved out of Kendall to get away from me after our second breakup on account of I wasn't ready to become, as the Ds find hilarious, "exclusive" with her. Well, we did commit, after a romantic trip to Cancun, back when it WAS Cancun, and a few months later, she moved back to Kendall to the same complex where we had met, and after my commitment to Eric ended , I moved in with her -- I guess that was the Summer of '85.
But the thing we recall most about '84 was our housesitting. My good friends Judy and Bob were off in England for nearly a month with their kids -- Bob teaching Neurology, and Judy researching Medieval Literature. Wifey and I moved into their way cool (to us) Gables house, and loved it. We'd swim at night, and ride our bikes into the Grove.
Wifey was making good money in flower sales, and I was getting paid decently as a clerk, and it seemed we had money for meals and bars in the Grove. We LOVED our time there together -- reading from the immense library that was really most of Judy and Bob's house.
Jeff and his then girlfriend Cheryl would visit, along with Mike and Loni, and there were Kahlua fueled Trivial Pursuit nights. I was 23 and Wifey was 27 -- much younger than the Ds are now.
At night, Wifey and I would sit and wonder -- would WE ever be able to afford a house like that? It turned out we would.
Bob died several years ago, and Judy's daughter Sarah moved into a newly constructed addition with her son -- who is now a high school junior. We attended Sarah's wedding to David at the house -- in a beautiful ceremony in the back yard. Tragically, David was stricken with Alzheimer's at a young age, and has been lingering for years. We last all met at Bob's shiva.
Sarah is a caterer, and we used her company for many events, but the past years, whenever Wifey calls, there are missed connections. A few years back, we saw her at a lovely event -- the engagement of Mike and Loni's son Chris to his intended Rachel. And now, in another leap of time, Rachel is pregnant. First comes love, then comes marriage...
But that Summer of '84 - which will be 4 decades past in half a year, was truly the beginning of our family. Wifey and I had a delightful time -- really getting to know each other, and, I guess, deciding that we would indeed build a life together.
Back then, her Survivor parents were sort of quaint to me -- a throwback to my own grandparents -- Eastern European Jews with funny Yiddish accents. My mother in law was a master of Jewish soul food -- she'd drop off Care Packages for us, since her daughter had zero interest in continuing the cooking tradition. It's funny -- that seems to skip a generation -- both of the Ds cook for their men. Hmm...
Anyway, over the years I would come to learn, first hand, all the damage the Holocaust did, and how it would rear its ugly keppi in strange and varied ways.
Rabbi Yossi would, and still does, invite me to adult versions of the "March of the Living," where American Jews visit the camps in Poland and Germany, before going to the happier Israel. I joke that I need not go -- I had entered into the "Marriage of the Living."
But none of that was an issue in the Summer of '84. It was about sharing the tales of our co -workers at the flower importer, and pharma company. July 4, 1984 was a big day, too -- we spent the night before at Wifey's friend Yvonne's apartment on not yet gentrified South Beach, and headed to a concert with another friend, Jeannette. Turns out, it was historic. The Beach Boys played to an enormous crowd on the Mall in D.C. and then flew to perform before hundreds of thousands of us gathered on the sand. I think it still stands as the most people who saw a band in a single day ever.
Jeannette was over a few weeks ago, and we reminisced about that event. She is a HUGE Beatles fan, and Ringo Starr was a special guest -- Jeannette darted for the stage, with her cousin Dennis trailing. I was too impaired to go. Somehow, we met up after the show.
That Fall, I would start my 2L year, and teach Freshman Composition to undergrads -- a pretty heavy schedule. I taught the Fall of my 3L year, too -- the income came in handy, and it let me get a taste of academia.
Wifey came to visit my class, and I announced to the kids that I had a confession: I was sleeping with one of the students in the room. I don't think you can make jokes like that anymore -- even when it IS a partner or spouse who visits.
So RIP Sybil. I saw in the Obit she had sons and grandkids -- she made it to 83. And I thank her notice for bringing me back, in my memory, to that special place in time.
