My first venture into Miami since moving here…and I got lost.

I finally worked out getting together with my son for the first time since July. On the drive down there I decided that we wouldn’t do the usual; go to lunch and a movie where we just stare at a screen for two hours and not really talk with each other. Recently, on the Travel Channel, Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations” did a show from Miami where he visited a very interesting looking Creole restaurant called Chef Creole.

When I arrived, after busting John’s chops about “how much he had grown since the last time I saw him”, I offered the idea and he agreed. We looked it up on the internet and printed out directions. It looked as if the restaurant wasn’t all too far from Jackie Gleason’s grave, which I have always wanted to visit since moving here, so we planned an afternoon’s mini-roadtrip.

Of course, it’s all in the details. A quick read of the directions pointed us towards the Florida Turnpike and, as we quickly read, towards exit 6. Confidant that I was familiar with where we were headed we drove off with appetites ready for a spicy lunch and an afternoon of male bonding. Turns out we got plenty of time for both as the restaurant was off exit 6 of Interstate 95 and not the Turnpike which meant we had gone almost 50 miles south of where we wanted to be. This was quite evident when we stopped for directions and this guy looked at me as if I were asking for direction to some place on the far side of the planet.

After turning ourselves around and snaking our way from one side of Miami to the other we found Chef Creole. A small, open air place which serves deli/fast food style but offers some fantastic tasting food. John had an amazing pork dish and I had stewed conch. My plate was loaded with humongous pieces of conch floating in a spice loaded bath.

Yummm-o!

Oops, wrong food show. Bourdain would kill me!

Of course, all of the extra driving time gave us a chance to catch up. In the car we talked about family issues, plans for after graduation, movies, comic books and every thing else…just another day between father and son.

One of the best things about our relationship is that he can make me laugh. Not just a chuckle and “Awwwww, ain’t he cute”, as when he was little. This is an outright, gut busting belly laugh. He has inherited the family sense of humor and irony. He also has my twisted way of looking at things. He knows that something he finds hilarious, but that will only make his friends and girlfriend only shake their heads, he knows he can share with me and we can laugh together like idiots.

Genetics is a wonderful thing!

As I have possibly mentioned before, the extended absence led to me obsessing over whether or not time had done damage to our relationship and that he was pulling away from me. From the moment we hugged at the door it was as if not even a moment had passed.

ME? Obsess??? Nooooooooooooooooooooo.