Uncle Slappy, who left New York for Boca a little more than a decade ago, is flying to New York this afternoon. He'll be house-sitting the weeks my wife and I are gone. The old man is comfortable in my place--we have a well-appointed guest room complete with a Sony flatscreen and a pull-out bed with an extra-comfortable mattress approved by the both of them.
Uncle Slappy and Aunt Sylvie love New York. They will enjoy our membership to the museums not far from our place, our health club and we even, as a surprise, bought them opera tickets for and evening with "Rigoletto." Truth be told, the two of them should never have left New York. But Florida rang and they answered.
Uncle Slappy called just now and he was laughing.
"I just gave the cleaning woman the seven-layer-cake we had leftover from Passover," he began. "I told her it was kosher."
"What did she say to that?" I asked.
"She said, 'I hope it has taste.'"
"That must have set you off," I said.
"I told her that our people haven't survived for 6,000 years by eating tasteless cake."
If you're in my neighborhood while I'm gone, take a few minutes and check in on Uncle Slappy. I'd appreciate it.