From the corner of my eye, I spy Jim and Cathy wander up, request an outside table and take a seat nearby.
Sarah and I have an abundance of subject material as Maddie, the 17 year old who knows everything ... if you need to know something, it doesn't matter what, and you don't know, just ask Maddie, she knows ... has a boyfriend she loves, has narrowed her college choice down from 110 to 13 and is pretty certain her major is going to be "Reckless spending."
Our vivacious social butterfly Laurel, the 14 year old, is so busy and popular she has a difficult time focusing working things like homework into her schedule. Laurel's always up to something and has already been banned from after school activities for the rest of the year unless accompanied by a parent.
Cassidy, the 12 year old, only comes out of her room to eat, by which I mean wreck the kitchen as she prepares food to take to her room where she will conduct science experiments in dirty empty glasses we'll find weeks later. The only time we dare go in Cassidy's room is to drag her out of bed to go to school ... that's when we find the plates and glasses.
Throughout their lives, all three believed they were only children ... until Che was born.
Now each claim they have one sister while acknowledging the existence of the others through an intense competition to determine who is Che's favorite.
"Who's your favorite sister?" each asks the baby in her own way.
Of course Che has three different answers depending on what she's up to but her most common reply is ... "Daddy."
Sarah's burger and my Flounder sandwich arrive so we dig in continuing our conversation.
Afterwards, we pay the tab and make our way out when Jim smiles broadly and says, "Micheal! We thought that was you."
It's been forever since we've seen one another so I introduce them to Sarah.
"We go way way back," I say and it's true 30 years ago our lives intersected often through work, kids, Church and life on the island that Tybee use to be.
"Let's see," I explain, "Jim's in real estate and ... let's see, what was it? ... Cathy just had surgery but's doing fine ... I just can't remember what she had done."
"Both knees were replaced," she tells Sarah pointing to her legs. "I'm fine now."
"How did you know that?" Jim wonders out loud.
"Facebook," I laugh.
"He keeps up," Sarah explains.
It's true.
"You know all our news," Cathy laughs.
"I know the important stuff," I smile putting my arm around my wife and strolling away.
Growing up we watched Walter Cronkite every night at 6:30 ... my Dad was suspicious of Huntley and Brinkley ... he never said they were gay but in hindsight I believe it's what he thought.
When President Kennedy was assassinated and Cronkite cried on television reporting the News, my Father ... the ex-Marine, twice Prisoner of war and survivor of being shot through the mouth while escaping ... cried right along with him.
After Walter retired and I moved away, I continued getting my news through television at 6:30 becoming a Tom Brokaw man.
Then I fell in love with Jane Pauley.
I was an avid reader of newspapers too and loved spending Sunday afternoons reading "The New York Times," "The Atlanta Journal-Constitution" and "The Savannah Morning News."
When on the road, I loved reading the local newspapers!
For most of my life, I was a news junkie.
Of course when the Internet happened, television news watered down to partisanship and newspapers dwindled into a relic only used by old people who can't adapt to instant everything.
These days we're overwhelmed with what passes for news.
A group of people who may, or may not, be making their way from Central America are a caravan of terrorist sponsored invading hordes ... the latest mass shooting keeping the unbroken string of white male shooters intact ... Democrats regained control of the House of Representatives but Republicans have checkmate retaining the Senate ... as of right now there are no Hurricanes forming.
Honestly, I no longer care about these things ... except the Hurricanes ... I keep up with those.
The rest of it is same as it ever was.
I'm fond of saying, "The news is the same every single day ... only the names, time and date change."
This is the news I care about and follow these days.
How's Chip doing managing his Mom's onset of Alzheimer's? ... what are Jim and Sam Sahr's test results? ... Is Clark doing okay since his Mom died after spending the last five years as her primary caregiver? ... Did Victor do okay with heart surgery? ... Where's John Iacovini going to end up? ... what's Benny going to do now that the Bar can open at 11:00 if he serves food?
What's going on in our girls lives?
Are my kids okay?
Is my wife happy?
That's the real news I'm looking for. the meaningful events that shape my world.
The stuff on television and Internet these days has a fakeness to it and none of it's as true as it's made out to be.
But ... how's my friend Chip? ... is Jim and Jam holding up okay? ... is Clark moving on? ... Is Victor recovering? ... is John ready for the changes? ... will Benny understand Bar Church will help business should he chose to open at 11 on Sunday mornings?
That's real news there!
It's the kind of News God cares about most.
