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Philanthropy in 2013

To say Danny Lieberman was currently living a subtle life would be to flat out lie. At one point in time he was living his life with some degree of subtlety, though not by choice. There once was a time when Danny was staring down a mountain of college loans one hour and doctors and orderlies the next hour, as his mother was sick with cancer.  Things, no; life, wasn’t working out as Danny had ever hoped. But that was then, and this is now. A successful entry into the stock market at age twenty-two—paid for with saved Bar Mitzvah funds—had left Danny in sound financial shape, and not long after wanting to give something back.

The Thursday sun was just beginning to set behind the row of palm trees that bordered the Lieberman’s backyard in North Miami Beach, and already Danny was beginning to feel the benefits. Danny’s wife, Maura, had designed the 4,500 sq ft. backyard after the two became engaged. An interior designer by title, Maura had a significant deal of self-confidence, and wanted to go beyond the household and challenge herself to conceptualize a backyard. She did a rather stellar job as well, as the previously desolate yard was now transformed with a swimming pool, water features, and flush with palms and further tropical fauna; the only downside being that the backyard faced west, and at dusk the sun tended to feel as if it was burning a hole straight through you. He was more than willing to allow his wife to design the backyard and let her creativity flourish, but not simply because he believed his wife to be capable. 

The Lieberman’s were waiting for their friends to come over, Roger and Gail Lang, before the group was to head downtown for a Cirque du Soleil performance. Maura was closing the sliding glass door to come outside just as Danny was taking his last sip of wine. The now empty bottle stood on the outside table. Maura wrinkled her face in a subtle gesture of disapproval. It wasn’t subtle enough, and Danny was quick to catch on.

“What was that?”

“Excuse me?”

“That face that you just made. Did I do something wrong?”

“No…you didn’t do anything wrong, per se, I just was hoping to have a tad more wine before they got here, is all.”

“Oh, Maura! I’m just doing you a favor, keeping you safe since I know how much you like to drive.” Danny winked, knowing how Maura likes the feeling of driving her husband around, especially with other passengers. This ability to take control, to get behind such force and maneuver it effortlessly, gives Maura a subtle feeling of power, which on nights out on the town ends up in her feeling turned on for later, putting her in another form of drivers seat. 

“I just wanted to have a slight more taste of that wine; you bought it for me after my last kitchen overhaul, after all.”

“That’s right babe! I bought it for you, so if you’re driving and I’m the one that bought it, I don’t even think it should be a question who should drink the majority.” He smiled wide. He knew Maura wouldn’t take the topic any further as so to protect the night of pleasantries ahead. 

Danny typically has had a knack for looking for credit where credit was due, even if sometimes it was better for credit to be unstated. More often than not he had been quick to remind his wife that, although she had designed their miraculous backyard, he was the one who gave her the “thumbs up” to do it. Just last week the topic resurfaced. As opposed to a night out with her girlfriends, Maura ended up attending a gathering at their country club, a place she found intolerable to be in no small part due to the aged design.

The couple heard a car pull up, and decided to start making their way toward the front door. The doorbell rang as Maura was slipping her shawl on over her shoulders; Danny went to open it. 

“Hello, hello. You guy’s ready for a night out on the town?”

With a sigh of relief, Roger went on with how he hasn’t had the best of weeks and how he could use some quality entertainment, and how its been too long since he and his wife have gone to bed. Danny preferred not to get much deeper into the conversation. 

“Let’s get going, shall we?” 

The four walked past Danny’s Audi convertible and headed instead for the Porsche SUV, Maura’s car. Within minutes they were southbound on Interstate-95, setting out for the American Airlines Arena. Inside the car exchanges varied from types of hardwood floors, newly implemented dental procedures, and debate on how the Miami Dolphins season will end up. The downtown Miami skyline was approaching, with the buildings becoming increasingly illuminated in the growing darkness. The most noticeable building in the downtown was the Miami Tower, lit up in pink, and making its presence felt among the buildings like a bottle of Pepto-Bismol in a medicine cabinet. 

As the car approached the exit for I-395 Danny took control of the conversation. “You all see that pink tower, right? Well guess who made it pink!” And while saying pink he shifted in his seat to face the Lang’s in the backseat, in a manner that answered his rhetorical question. Roger made an attempt at humor while also trying to knock Danny down a notch or two, knowing how he can sometimes push boundaries. 

“You were the one that dyed it pink, huh Danny?”

“Ha! Yeah, right, that tower’s got a multimillion-dollar LED lighting system installed on the outside. And it’s pink now, because of my donation to breast cancer research. You know, I never thought of how much influence I’d hold from donating the first fifteen floors of the building. Someone in the management staff got word of this cancer donation, and the next thing you know the super and I are talking details on how long we’ll be promoting cancer awareness through the building’s LED system!” Maura hated when Danny would speak in this manner, and knew the game he was trying to play. Instead Gail went right after the bait.

“That’s so thoughtful of you to make that cancer donation, after what you went through with your mother and everything.”

“Thank you Gail, you know it’s a cause that really means a lot to me, so to be able to make a potentially huge difference in the lives of others really means the world to me. To think, that because of me, we may be one step closer to finding a cure, I can’t put into words.” That, however, was because what he had wanted to get across he already did. Looking to alter the direction of the dialogue, which at this point was going nowhere, Maura interjected. 

“So does anyone remember the name of the specific Cirque show we’re seeing?” Roger knew.

“It’s called Varekai, which apparently means ‘anywhere,’ at least that’s what I remember reading on the ticket.” In actuality it meant “wherever,” a fact Roger would learn when reading through the program. As they were driving around looking for parking they passed a street post, which had affixed to it yellow banner with red accents advertising the Cirque show, with ‘Varekai’ printed in black. No one noticed.