Written by Stanley Greenberg Friday, 23 March 2012 00:00
In the sagacious words of that great and wise Yankee catcher, Yogi Berra “It was déjà vu all over again” last Saturday night. Lorraine and I went on a double date with our fun neighbors and good friends, Chey and Bob.
Bob selected a nightclub at The Pub, at the Glen Cove Mansion, on Dosoris Lane. It was part of the Pratt mansion that was previously called The Harrison House. It meant an awful lot to Lorraine (my beautiful wife) and myself because 19 years ago, my daughter Cara married Eric Mitnick, on a glorious night in October.
At present, the happy couple is residing in San Diego, California, with their children, Rachel and Eli. The parents are both employed by law schools.
The Pub was on the second floor, up a carpeted staircase, that reminded me of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara’s ascension in Gone With the Wind. It was crowded to the walls with single patrons in their 50s, 60s and 70s. There was a smooth five-piece band, a dance floor (tiny), and a suave singer entertaining with the old tried and true tunes.
The waitress, Sandra, was Polish and has a 3.9 average at SUNY Old Westbury College. She is headed for a law career at N.Y.U. Law School. The bar was crowded and we sat at a far table in a corner of the room. It was fun.
I remember being the host at my daughter’s wedding. Cantor Kalmen Fliegelman and Rabbi Michael Katz of our synagogue, Temple Beth Torah of Westbury, handled the services. Our neighbors Monica and Ed Kranepool, former N.Y. Mets first baseman attended the wedding along with over 225 friends, neighbors and relatives.
There is a small bowling alley on the premises where one of Lorraine’s cousins cut his thumb and had to see a doctor. When you hire a wedding venue and spend a lot of money, it is only yours for five hours. After that, it reverts back to the owners.
As I walked my daughter down the aisle, my yarmulke slipped off my head and down my back. Because of my curly hair this has been happening to me since I was 10 years old. Deftly, I reached behind my back and snared the aberrant headgear with one stroke and replaced it on my dome. I received a round of applause.
Many memories were brought back of that glorious evening 19 years ago. Déjà vu all over again!