Summer is here

And it's gonna be good.

Saturday was opening day at Brownstone Park, an old rock-quarry-turned-waterpark in Connecticut. 

Jo was invited, but she said I should spend the day with my boys. I think she was afraid of ziplining from the cliffs.

But we'll go with her story.

Sunday we all had brunch at the 79th Street Boat Basin. It was a bit cold for shorts and t-shirts, but we survived.

Last night we all went to see "Deadpool 2" in Lincoln Square. It was nice to spend an evening together. We ate too much buttered popcorn; I reminded them that it's good for you, because it prepares your body for heart disease.

Today we slept late, then got bagels from Orwasher's, brought them home and had brunch in our dining room. This afternoon I went for a 3-mile run in Central Park, then Samuel and I took Bailey to the pet store for treats.

It's 10:45 pm. I'm lying on the living room sofa congratulating myself on my great taste in Art Deco throw pillows. Samuel is two feet away from me playing a VR game. Ethan is at the dining room table doing homework. Bailey is asleep on the floor, exhausted from his pet store excitement.

The beginning of summer is like the beginning of life, with its promise of new possibilities. I have a nice life. I love my boys. I love Jo. I have been an optimist since the day I became a father, and I see no reason to change now.

Wouldn't it be nice?

A year ago I was posting Stevie Nicks break-up songs. Today I'm gonna go with something lighter.

Yale class reunion

We jumped in our hot, red, rented convertible and cruised up the Merritt to New Haven, arriving fashionably late for the picnic lunch.

We took our seats at a table of older people, and I introduced her to my classmates.

According to Jo, I'm the hottest guy in my class. FYI.

After lunch we roamed the halls of the business school, noting that every classroom, lounge, and hallway is named for a donor. I suggested that we make a donation in return for naming rights to a room. 

Jo suggested the Todd Tarpley Comfort Station (gift of Todd Tarpley, class of '93).

Here's Jo at the lectern.

"You. In the fifth row. What is the answer?"

"What is the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act."

"Correct. You don't need to phrase it in the form of a question."

We walked around the campus, bought a cap at the bookstore, then hopped in our convertible and headed back to NYC.

Okay, one more shot. Then and Now. Eerie sitting there feeling like I was just sitting in that same spot a few years ago, then pondering all that's happened over the past 25 years.