Welcome, Charlie!

Suzanne has a new granddaughter, Miss Charlie, born on the back of an oak leaf, up there in wine country a few weeks ago.

Always wanted to write, as Henry James did, in an old house in Sussex, overlooking the English Channel.

Settled for a nice spot in the L.A. suburbs, within ear shot of one of the finest freeways ever. Instead of ferry boats, I hear big rigs.

I mean, who doesn’t make the occasional compromise? You? Well, OK then. Congrats.

The rest of us aim high, shoot low, make peace with the results.

The other day, I was telling my pal Schwartzy that I had been brooding a bit over not having a few of the material things a man my age ought to have.

As my son Smartacus points out, life is a 12-layer dip. The layers: Beans, sour cream, disappointment, disgust, grief, longing, envy …

Then I thought to myself: I can read the same great books a billionaire can, I can listen to the same incredible music, appreciate the same harvest moon. Suddenly, my pockets felt fuller.

Sure, I’m a jackass … a glass-is-half-full lush. But it’s a big glass. And it’s still half full.

Cheers!

Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer…

Then there’s these grandkids, three if I’m counting correctly. They are a rebellious bunch, with freckled noses and sticky chins, two of them still in diapers.

Here’s what I worry about: Cakes, Puddles and Mookie glow like light bulbs every time I show up at their homes. Why are they so easily impressed?

Yet, I worship my grandchildren in that hokey way all grandparents do. Apologies. If you have grandchildren, maybe you’ll understand.

In a perfect world, you could skip children and go straight to grandkids. The price is better … the payoffs devine.

FYI, Suzanne has a new granddaughter, Miss Charlie, born on the back of an oak leaf, up there in wine country a few weeks ago.

Charlie is a popular name again, especially for baby girls. My pal Jeff also has a granddaughter named Charlie. In five years, all the kindergartens will be full of Charlies again, mostly little girls.

Isn’t life amazing? Surprise is such a wonderful sensation, as elemental as hydrogen, or phosphorus, or platters of grilled chicken.

Charlie was a bit of a surprise, and now it’s hard to imagine a world without her. She is suddenly this beacon drawing in family and friends from across California.

I hope to meet her soon, while she’s still a gumdrop, a bead of magic, a tincture.

When I do, this is what I’ll tell her:

—Don’t be foolish. The $7 wine at Trader Joe’s is just as good as the $100 vino down the block.

—A Ford is just as fine as a Ferrari, at least till you’re 50 or so, then maybe a Ferrari. Real life moves fast enough.

—Sometimes the world feels like a giant scam — don’t be disheartened.

—When it comes to men, never confuse bravado for confidence, they wear the same brand of jeans.

—When you get the chance, take your lovely grandmas to brunch (I’ll buy).

And never forget — are you listening, Charlie, are you writing all this down?

Family is everything, I mean everything. Friends too. They are your army, your strike-out pitch, the ace that fills a straight-flush with the whole room watching.

Never fret for family, Charlie, because you have a fine one…a gorgeous and loving mom (like sunshine) and a boyishly handsome dad (an ebullient Dodger fan!).

They will be your Ferrari.

Coming Saturday: Boomer Wisdom and the enormity of kids.

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Also coming soon: Happy Hour Hiking Club invites.