This was a nice one. H. did not have to work @ a party, as he often does on the Saturday nights we are invited to go somewhere. So we got to go together to my friend Bruce's 50th birthday party, after Moey and I popped in on Dad for a hospital visit.
I was so happy to see my H. there, in his blue jeans and a nice cocoa-brown shirt--and to watch Bruce blow out the candles.
Bruce and I met at Rutgers--I was a reporter for The Daily Targum, and he was a sportswriter. It's so funny to me that we are both 50 now. We were only teenagers! How can this be?
We were at each other's parties [he and his roommate John once floated a Hawiian theme], and I remember Bruce and Alyssa's wedding fondly, the pretty flower-laden huppa. We've lunched many times in NYC, often in the sun at Madison Square Park when my office was one block away from his on Park Avenue South. And I freelanced for him in the office when he was an editor at Cigar Aficionado, during their busy shipping cycles.
Now Bruce is 50. He has two young daughters. His brother and sister-in-law threw a lovely party for him at their home, with delicious guacamole, pulled barbecue chicken, fresh rolls, coleslaw and salad. Two cakes: One homemade carrot with cream-cheese frosting, one white with mocha frosting and tons of pretty icing roses. Doug's wife Barbara made most of the food, and it was fabulous. The wine flowed, and it was really fun to talk to Bruce's parents, his aunt and uncle and Rich, also from our Targum days. There were broken marriages--Bruce's and his parents' included--but it felt good and right to see and chat with the people on both sides, who all came together quite graciously for a happy birthday night.
Happy Birthday, Bruce. May your 50 be the new 20---with roads ahead full of promise and all good things. You and I, we may have some gray in our hair these days, but deep down, we are still the strong, smart, determined dreamers who bravely found our way up the stairs to the Targum office.
The best is yet to come.
I was so happy to see my H. there, in his blue jeans and a nice cocoa-brown shirt--and to watch Bruce blow out the candles.
Bruce and I met at Rutgers--I was a reporter for The Daily Targum, and he was a sportswriter. It's so funny to me that we are both 50 now. We were only teenagers! How can this be?
We were at each other's parties [he and his roommate John once floated a Hawiian theme], and I remember Bruce and Alyssa's wedding fondly, the pretty flower-laden huppa. We've lunched many times in NYC, often in the sun at Madison Square Park when my office was one block away from his on Park Avenue South. And I freelanced for him in the office when he was an editor at Cigar Aficionado, during their busy shipping cycles.
Now Bruce is 50. He has two young daughters. His brother and sister-in-law threw a lovely party for him at their home, with delicious guacamole, pulled barbecue chicken, fresh rolls, coleslaw and salad. Two cakes: One homemade carrot with cream-cheese frosting, one white with mocha frosting and tons of pretty icing roses. Doug's wife Barbara made most of the food, and it was fabulous. The wine flowed, and it was really fun to talk to Bruce's parents, his aunt and uncle and Rich, also from our Targum days. There were broken marriages--Bruce's and his parents' included--but it felt good and right to see and chat with the people on both sides, who all came together quite graciously for a happy birthday night.
Happy Birthday, Bruce. May your 50 be the new 20---with roads ahead full of promise and all good things. You and I, we may have some gray in our hair these days, but deep down, we are still the strong, smart, determined dreamers who bravely found our way up the stairs to the Targum office.
The best is yet to come.
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