It was a few hours before Passover and we were on our way to the family Seder. One of our many traditions is to call relatives who we will not be seeing and wishing them a “Sweet Passover”.

I have commented on recent blogs about old friends.  There is smething unique though about friends from upstate or outside the area.  A different quality to the caliber of people.  As much as I enjoy being close to the center of the universe (NYC) there is absolutely a difference in the type of people who live outside of the metropolitan area.  I suppose you need to take the good with the bad.  Anyone else have the desire/courage to chime in?

There is something special about the friends that know you from back when. Last weekend, we had dinner with friends I have had since just after I started practicing law. (You know who you are!) For perspective, I am coming up on thirty years.

Torn between two menu items, the friendly server comes over and wants to know if we have any questions.  Yes, I say, what is better, the swordfish or the black cod?  Or the branzino and the vegetarian mousaka?  

An Ohio judge came up with a unique solution to punish a 62-year-old man who was found guilty of harassing his neighbors over the course of a 15-year feud.   As a punishment, Edmond Aviv will be forced to stand outside on Sunday for five hours with a sign that reads: "I AM A BULLY! I pick on children that are disabled, and I am intolerant of those that are different from myself. My actions do not reflect an appreciation for the diverse South Euclid community that I live in."  

I've been noticing lately that people seem to resent that I don't act my age. Having been born in 1942 I'm actually a pre-baby boomer (figure it out). Mostly, I don't feel old. Rather, I subscribe to Satchel Paige's axiom  "How old would you be if you didn't know how old you was?"  Plus, they say  70 is the new 50. As an example, in preparationfor our upcoming Karaoke night I sang the Big Bopper's "Chantilly Lace" at a meeting and when I intoned "Oh Baby you know what I like!" the woman sitting next to me blanched and blurted "Skeevy".

Fred keeps a diary and has for many, many years. I know this because Fred has shared some of his entries from years ago with me. Here is one that he shared and I must share.