Pictured here on this t-shirt found on Portland Street are two of my favorite loves: poetry and beer. Shipyard Brewing Company, a famous local microbrewery, has been tapping beers since 1994 and has a wide range of options. I especially enjoy their seasonals like Summer Ale, Pumpkinhead and Prelude. Their Longfellow Winter Ale, named after the city's most famous native son, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, is an English Porter that I've sampled from time to time. Funny story. Back in '04 when my Sox were making their first World Series run since 1918, I was a creature of habit and exhibited some superstitions that hereto had never shown themselves. I watched all the games alone in my den with only the glare of the TV lighting the room, and during the very first game against the St. Louis Cardinals, I popped open a Pumpkinhead in the fourth inning and again in the seventh. As I remember, in the seventh I asked Elenka to bring me the frosty from the fridge. They were thirst-quenching numbers that I savored, and the Sox won. Game Two, I repeated the pattern; same results. They won the Series 4-0. In 2007, they were back in October Classic against the Colorado Rockies, and I again repeated my 4th and 7th inning ritual. They swept again in four games. Was I on to something? Their record this morning is 80-56 and they are 3 1/2 games up in the American East. Might they be playing games in October this fall? Hope so. And if they make it, maybe against the Braves, Cardinals or Pirates, you can bet my Pumpkinheads will be close by.
With apologies to Icabod Crane... Long Live Pumpkinheads!
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
Sheding Light
Somewhere between my First Communion and my Confirmation I had to memorize the 10 Commandments found in My First Catechism. One of my many Sisters of Mercy thought it was the right thing to do, to instill these 10 items into my brain. Some of them were easy: "Thou shall not kill". Some not so much: "Thou shall not covet thy neighbor's wife" and, "Thou shall not commit adultery". I remember the boys and girls in that room all were looking around at each other with the looks of having been hit in the head by 2x4s. Bewilderment was the vocabulary word of that day. Pretty heavy stuff for a little guy who just wanted to go catch pollywogs after school.
Heck, even today a couple of them are still pretty scary!
Heck, even today a couple of them are still pretty scary!
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Timely Tie
I call it timely for a reason. It's one of my favorite ties. Yet, I've only donned it twice in my life. You might ask the question why at this point. Then again, you might not even care. I like tradition. I value poignant moments, so let me share. I usually go with a full Windsor, taught to me by my father, and I did that day April 19, 1975, the day Elenka took my hand in marriage. Dad always told me marrying her was the most important day in my life. He was seer on that point. My response to him that afternoon was, "I know, I know." But I really didn't. I was just mouthing the words for him. I know now! Later, the birth of a son even trumped this day. On that day in April, I wore an off-white suit, in maybe a bit of homage to John Lennon. I really don't know what I was thinking, really. Last February, I tied it on for only the second time, almost 38 years to the day. It's a great tie with scantily clad young ladies dancing to and fro. Don't hurt your eyes getting too close to the page. Lowell. They were strategically covered up for my day in the trenches.
I'll probably sport it again soon. It'll be a special day though. That's for sure.
I'll 'tie one on' with the Windsor family, just for Dad.
I'll probably sport it again soon. It'll be a special day though. That's for sure.
I'll 'tie one on' with the Windsor family, just for Dad.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
My Type
It must have been something to pound out news stories amid the din and smoke of those early newsrooms. If I close my eyes, I can see myself back in the Thirties lost in a newsroom. Well, I have to learn to type first. I rue the day that I was never talked into taking a typing course in high school. Back then, Mom typed all my papers. In my collegiate years, my best friend, Chuck, pounded out papers on Romantic Poetry and Twentieth Century Authors, and all he asked in return was a few cold beers. Thanks Chuck! These days my keyboarding skills are still pathetically, embarrassing but I get the jobs done somehow. Elenka just shakes her head and rolls her eyes.
Me? I just keep click, clacking away.
Me? I just keep click, clacking away.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Lazy River
At the waterpark-
These days, give me the lazy river! That's my speed. I can even handle the wave pool, especially when it is freakin' hot all over. I'm pretty patient too, especially when I'm waiting for something that has a good payback, either physically or emotionally. You won't find me waiting in line for overpriced food. Heck, they attempt to finagle $3.50 out of your pocket for a bottle for water. Same goes for those ungodly, staggering lines that meander up the big draw waterslides, in all designs and lengths. Don't look for me there either. I'll be splashing around in a tube on the lazy river and waving to these lifeguards every 20 minutes or so. After all, someone has to keep these boring jobs interesting.
It's a tough job, but I'm overly qualified.
Maybe they'd let me float around with one of those umbrella drinks.
These days, give me the lazy river! That's my speed. I can even handle the wave pool, especially when it is freakin' hot all over. I'm pretty patient too, especially when I'm waiting for something that has a good payback, either physically or emotionally. You won't find me waiting in line for overpriced food. Heck, they attempt to finagle $3.50 out of your pocket for a bottle for water. Same goes for those ungodly, staggering lines that meander up the big draw waterslides, in all designs and lengths. Don't look for me there either. I'll be splashing around in a tube on the lazy river and waving to these lifeguards every 20 minutes or so. After all, someone has to keep these boring jobs interesting.
It's a tough job, but I'm overly qualified.
Maybe they'd let me float around with one of those umbrella drinks.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Going Up
This country mouse was off to the big city last weekend. Here I am looking up at the base of the Bloomberg Building in NYC. We went to Le Cirque restaurant nearby and had a wonderful dinner with Elenka's sister Judy, brother-in-law Anthony, their daughter Daniella and her boyfriend, Chris. Later, we wandered the streets of Manhattan, caught some 'sights' in Times Square, and as the city was beginning to unfold for the night, we grabbed a bus back to Jersey. For this country mouse, I survived my very non- frightening visit to the big city. Elenka wasn't so lucky though. Her cellphone was lost somewhere among those towering granite edifices.
"I am currently unable to take your call, please leave your message after the beep"
"I am currently unable to take your call, please leave your message after the beep"
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Fantasy World
Living in a fantasy world ain't all that bad, at least for a couple hours. One of my joys of summer, besides living a life in Maine, is taking in the four shows of the Maine State Music Theater (MSMT). This summer the shows were Dreamgirls, Les Miserables, Gypsy and Mary Poppins. Usually 3 of the 4 shows are very good. However this year, Dreamgirls and Gypsy fell well below the mark for me. Dreamgirls? Weak musical score. Afterall, it is a musical. My foot should be tappin'. Now, if they had used the Supremes songbook? Winner! Gypsy? Strong storyline, a couple of memorable songs, but I left the theater talking to myself. What's the big deal with Gypsy? It almost put me to sleep. I was yawning! Les Mis? See this show before you die. It's that good. Maybe the best show I've seen here since 1998. Mary Poppins? Fine musical score. The 2+ hours whizzed by. J- laughed throughout the production. It was hilarious! I can't believe Julie Andrews was any better then this gal.
Many of my friends believe I live part of my existence in a fantasyland
Four times a summer, I do.
I have the Playbills to prove it.
* What's ahead for next summer-
Buddy, Chamberlain, 7 Brides for 7 Brothers, and Footloose. Can't wait.
Many of my friends believe I live part of my existence in a fantasyland
Four times a summer, I do.
I have the Playbills to prove it.
* What's ahead for next summer-
Buddy, Chamberlain, 7 Brides for 7 Brothers, and Footloose. Can't wait.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Thrill Ride
Did you read the article about the sports writer who drove up to a police parking lot, called 911, reported his own suicide and proceeded to put a bullet in his head? On his 60th birthday, he had decided that he had lived long enough, didn't like the way he was aging, wanted no part of any debilitating illness and wanted to exit on his terms. Which he did. Not married, no kids, minimal contact with a sister and a brother. He had no real support system to be there to catch him when he got to falling. For him, I guess, his interpretation was that he had found himself in dire straits at 60. The blogesphere was a piece of the puzzle too. He was an active participant and had been detailing in his blog set to publish a day after his death the who, what, when, where of the gradual process of his death spiral. Yahoo removed the site a few days later. Unfit for public consumption, I guess.
I found his story on the CNN website. It's worth a look. I was pulled in.
What makes us do what we do?
When we're aging, but in good health, what takes us so close to the precipice?
Life's a thrill ride for me, and I like to think the coaster ride is still on the way up!
I found his story on the CNN website. It's worth a look. I was pulled in.
What makes us do what we do?
When we're aging, but in good health, what takes us so close to the precipice?
Life's a thrill ride for me, and I like to think the coaster ride is still on the way up!
Friday, August 23, 2013
Lifeline
Throw me a lifeline, will ya? Everybody needs one from time to time. And I don't just mean those contestants on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire". There is warm feeling of satisfaction when a loved one or a colleague at work comes to your rescue and bails you out of a difficult situation. I seem to get myself into these predicaments often these days. I'm lucky, because I've built a pretty reliable support system nearby, ready to come to my aid. For one thing, technology can be a pretty frustrating venue in many of our lives. I, for one, seem to be able to travel just so far down that highway until you'll hear me utter these words, "Regis, I think I'll use a lifeline. I want to phone a friend."
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Interlude
This is called "Garden Interlude" by Carole Whelan, a stainless and galvanized wire cast installation, on the campus of the University of New England here in the city.
I might call it Wired. I've felt this way before. After three to four cups of black, regular coffee and I can be 'flying'. Wired, if you will. Sometimes, my tummy doesn't feel so well either. I love coffee, but not this discomfort.
This mother and child moment on a warm summer day made me smile, as I walked around the garden. It seemed many miles away from my three to four cups of java.
I might call it Wired. I've felt this way before. After three to four cups of black, regular coffee and I can be 'flying'. Wired, if you will. Sometimes, my tummy doesn't feel so well either. I love coffee, but not this discomfort.
This mother and child moment on a warm summer day made me smile, as I walked around the garden. It seemed many miles away from my three to four cups of java.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
OPW
I had a pretty good arm growing up. I would bet you today, if I was standing in the middle of the square at the center of Morrills Corner, I could grip a baseball in my hands and heave it six different times, and I'd land it near the pumps of the six filling stations at the corner. Six, count them Six! There was an Esso, an Amaco, a Shell, a Sunoco, a Flying A, and a Cheveron. They were all there within sight, within hitting distance of at least the pumps. How many do you think are left today of the six? Marchin, my brother, knows the answer. Now, if you guessed ZERO, you would be quite the guesser.
Heck, you might even venture down to Old Orchard Beach and take over the booth of Dave the Guesser.
The corner has changed quite a bit, from when it was my old stompin' ground. As a matter of fact, there are only two buildings that have kept their same use for over 50 years. Wanna try again?
I'll tell ya, if you said it was a bar and a restaurant, you'd be correct again. Back then, the bar was The Brass Rail. It's now the Morrills Corner Pub. I worked at Edna's Restaurant, which now goes by the name of Samuel's Bar and Grill. Wow! Over fifty years and just two establishments still standing as is. Amazing!
And by the way, growing up I pleaded and begged 'the powers that be' for a McDonald's nearby. No way. At the time, there was only one set of Golden Arches in town. Now? You are right again, Swami! A good size set of arches moved into the neighborhood and took over one of those gas stations many years ago.
Just my luck.
Thirty-five years too late for me!
* By the way, these two, colored caps were found on the cement lot of a once thriving full-service station in New Jersey.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Christening
Say hello to my grand niece.
Born May 24, 2013; christened August 18, 2013.
Tiny fingers, tiny toes, tiny smiles for all in the room.
What a gown!
Born May 24, 2013; christened August 18, 2013.
Tiny fingers, tiny toes, tiny smiles for all in the room.
What a gown!
Monday, August 19, 2013
Peeling Paint
I really don't mind putting paint to brush, but I must admit I hate to scrape peeling paint in any shape or form. Taking a quick short cut the other morning, I went behind this abandoned gas station. It's still standing but hasn't been pumping petrol for almost ten years now. I wonder about the feasibility of a prime piece of real estate like this going dark for such a long period of a time. I've got to believe that the cost of removing the below ground storage tanks has something to do with it not having some sort of rebirth. After all, almost everything should get a second chance, even ugly gas stations.
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Sundial
Time is a funny thing.
Growing up there was no such thing as time.
I think I remember my grandfather giving me one of his old watches once, and Santa dropped one off under the tree for me the year I became a big boy. I can't remember having a timepiece on my wrist through my high school years and even college for that matter. However, I don't think Mom would have sent me off into 'the wilderness' college life without one, but I just can't recall. She packed everything else for me, so I gotta believe a watch was in that trunk somewhere.
When we headed off on our adventures of the day, we mostly went watchless. Somewhere along the line, one of the guys showed the rest of us how to properly draw a sundial in the dirt and this served us well. Especially, if in our intensity of playing army, hitting golf balls across Gullivers or being stuck in the late innings of a tension-packed game of baseball, we didn't hear the 2:14 whistle at the mill sound that always signaled it was time to get ready to deliver papers at 3 PM.
Now that I think of it, time lurked everywhere in this kids growing years. I just didn't know it.
Time was like God; it was and is everywhere.
Tick, Tick, Tick.
Growing up there was no such thing as time.
I think I remember my grandfather giving me one of his old watches once, and Santa dropped one off under the tree for me the year I became a big boy. I can't remember having a timepiece on my wrist through my high school years and even college for that matter. However, I don't think Mom would have sent me off into 'the wilderness' college life without one, but I just can't recall. She packed everything else for me, so I gotta believe a watch was in that trunk somewhere.
When we headed off on our adventures of the day, we mostly went watchless. Somewhere along the line, one of the guys showed the rest of us how to properly draw a sundial in the dirt and this served us well. Especially, if in our intensity of playing army, hitting golf balls across Gullivers or being stuck in the late innings of a tension-packed game of baseball, we didn't hear the 2:14 whistle at the mill sound that always signaled it was time to get ready to deliver papers at 3 PM.
Now that I think of it, time lurked everywhere in this kids growing years. I just didn't know it.
Time was like God; it was and is everywhere.
Tick, Tick, Tick.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Corn and Clouds
When these fingers get to reaching for the sky, you know it's almost time to dig out the corn holders and ready the dinner plates for the evening meal of corn on the cob. We had the holders that looked like mini corn on the cob. With four 'krazy kids' yakking at the table all at once, Mom probably needed something to distract us while we were readying to chomp on the corn. I always knew the delicious yellow ears were on the way when the tell-tale signs of the yellow hairs were next to the kitchen sink. Although we never had a garden after Washington Avenue house and Dad's 'potato experiment', corn was a staple at the supper table when 4 kids were eating. I never waited around for the holders though. I just grabbed two napkins, folded them up, splashed on the butter and commenced my typewriter technique, side to side. I heard the other day that there are basically 3 ways to eat corn: the typewriter(side to side), round-about (eating in circles) or the haphazard plan (little typewriter, little circling, eating here and there, I guess). That last one has me baffled. Why? Why? Why? When eating corn on the cob, you really need a game plan. right?
Any other plans on how to destroy ears of summer corn?
If not, I think I'll just be 'summer happy' with my side to side rat-a tat tat... DING!
Any other plans on how to destroy ears of summer corn?
If not, I think I'll just be 'summer happy' with my side to side rat-a tat tat... DING!
Friday, August 16, 2013
Sophie
This is one of two red outbuildings in the backyard. It's our newest one two years old. We call it Sophie. It's named after the second of our two cats. To keep them straight, we just call the buildings Molly and Sophie. Molly houses the rototiller, handmower and assorted bottles dug up from the backyard and a few tires and leftover bean poles not in use this season. We also hang our deck chairs from the ceiling. Oh, and family of mice or two build homes in my stored birdhouses during the winter. Sophie's building is where I store our riding lawnmower and a bunch of garden equipment. Everything has its place. Each fall, I'm adding more crap to store in each.
I'm a bit disappointed on how this image ended up. The red oubuilding holds its own , but yesterday morning the wheelbarrow on its side and the yellow and white wildflowers just added so much to the total scene. Now, the blue barrow and flowers have gone the route of a total washout.
It is what it is.
I'm a bit disappointed on how this image ended up. The red oubuilding holds its own , but yesterday morning the wheelbarrow on its side and the yellow and white wildflowers just added so much to the total scene. Now, the blue barrow and flowers have gone the route of a total washout.
It is what it is.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Passing Parade
Well, it's not a priest, a minister and a rabbi walk into a bar, but it's funny enough... and supposedly true, especially if you value dry wit.
A cowboy walked into a drygoods store and strolls up to a man and says, "Excuse me sir, but are you Mark Twain?"
The whitehaired gentleman repled, "Yes, I believe, I Am."
The cowboy said, "Well, I reckon we're the best in our lines. I'm a big fan of your work. If it would be alright, I'd like to sit with you for a moment. You may have heard of me too. I'm Jessie James, the outlaw."
Twain repled, "Yes, I believe, you are."
Mark Twain was a great believer in the folly of the participants in the passing parade.
I'm still grinning at that dry Twain humor of his last line.
By the way, it is said that James used to hide out in Mark Twain Cave in Missouri.
A cowboy walked into a drygoods store and strolls up to a man and says, "Excuse me sir, but are you Mark Twain?"
The whitehaired gentleman repled, "Yes, I believe, I Am."
The cowboy said, "Well, I reckon we're the best in our lines. I'm a big fan of your work. If it would be alright, I'd like to sit with you for a moment. You may have heard of me too. I'm Jessie James, the outlaw."
Twain repled, "Yes, I believe, you are."
Mark Twain was a great believer in the folly of the participants in the passing parade.
I'm still grinning at that dry Twain humor of his last line.
By the way, it is said that James used to hide out in Mark Twain Cave in Missouri.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Purple Field
Zane Grey's western novel, Riders of the Purple Sage, came to mind as I was travelling on the New Portland Road yesterday afternoon. I think he would have smiled, and probably even lectured me on what is and isn't sage brush. Now, Elenka knows quite a bit about plants, and she said this beautiful purple growth is some sort of invasive plant (purple loosestrife). All I know is that on a cloudy, overcast day this field seemed full of life.
Chapter 1
"A sharp clip-clop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage." ZG
http://www.dnr.state.mn.us/invasives/aquaticplants/purpleloosestrife/index.html
Chapter 1
"A sharp clip-clop of iron-shod hoofs deadened and died away, and clouds of yellow dust drifted from under the cottonwoods out over the sage." ZG
http://www.dnr.state.mn.us/invasives/aquaticplants/purpleloosestrife/index.html
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Chances Are
I must say. I've backed myself into a corner a few times in my life but have never really been a chance taker. Spent parts of three days in Vegas, a few years back, and never put a coin in a slot. Growing up, we went to Funtown one day each summer and the games of chance were the farthest thing from my mind. I was too occupied with the Jack and Jill slide, bumper cars, small boats in water that went round and round with bells and cotton candy. Even when the winnings in lotteries stretch to 400 Million, I don't play. I don't buy lottery tickets. I don't play highstakes poker. Jumping in line with these four and trying to win a pile of tickets, stuffed animals or a cheap basketball just wasn't my thing. I guess I can trace it back to the family mantra instilled by my parents. Save. Save. Save. Work hard. Value what you've earned. Use it to make a better life.
Risk wasn't a part of my vocabulary. Still isn't.
Sometimes, I wonder if I'm normal.
Risk wasn't a part of my vocabulary. Still isn't.
Sometimes, I wonder if I'm normal.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Jersey Spin
Took a spin along the Jersey Shore last week and was amazed. The destructive path of Hurricane Sandy, last October, is still much in evidence. In Point Pleasant 15 foot walls of sand dunes, piles of rubble, that once were seaside cottage homes and million dollar mansions up on stilts still can be easily seen along the long stretch of crystal-blue ocean. Here in Seaside Heights, where we spent a drizzly afternoon walking along the 2 mile stretch of the amusement-orientated boardwalk, the wide expanse of walkway is back, but Casino Pier and Funtown Pier at either end still have major reconstruction ongoing. There was far more heavy equipment on display then bumper cars, tilt-a-whirls and ferris wheels. "The Place for Family Fun Since 1913" is on the upswing though and will return bigger and better.
Even mass destruction can have its silver lining.
And the wide slice of Seaside pizza was still delicious!
Even mass destruction can have its silver lining.
And the wide slice of Seaside pizza was still delicious!
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Sittin', Thinkin'
Sittin', thinkin', waitin', 'holdin'.
Well, gotta have the cell. Can't live without the cell. It's this world we live in today. We must be connected. We have to be continuously checking for something... anything. Someone must be out there ready to tell me what they had for breakfast, what they plan for their day or how really happy they are, at least for now. Some days, I truly wonder how I ever survived my teen and early adult lives without being attached, almost at the hip, to these rectangles that shout out color, videos and random music from favorite songs. We are being held hostage in a way. In someways, on some days I wish the SWAT teams might break through and rescue us. From ourselves. Last week, a good friend lost her phone and started an emotional breakdown. The tears just flowed and flowed. It was difficult to understand her at times. She was embarrassed too. Was she crying for loss of photos, numbers or messages? Quite frankly, no. She was stressed, because she could no longer hold it in her hand. It was a tactile thing, I guess.
Me? Lose my wallet, and then you'll see the tears flow and a few, well placed, curses to the sky!
Well, gotta have the cell. Can't live without the cell. It's this world we live in today. We must be connected. We have to be continuously checking for something... anything. Someone must be out there ready to tell me what they had for breakfast, what they plan for their day or how really happy they are, at least for now. Some days, I truly wonder how I ever survived my teen and early adult lives without being attached, almost at the hip, to these rectangles that shout out color, videos and random music from favorite songs. We are being held hostage in a way. In someways, on some days I wish the SWAT teams might break through and rescue us. From ourselves. Last week, a good friend lost her phone and started an emotional breakdown. The tears just flowed and flowed. It was difficult to understand her at times. She was embarrassed too. Was she crying for loss of photos, numbers or messages? Quite frankly, no. She was stressed, because she could no longer hold it in her hand. It was a tactile thing, I guess.
Me? Lose my wallet, and then you'll see the tears flow and a few, well placed, curses to the sky!
Saturday, August 10, 2013
Foul Pole
Took a little journey to Citizens Bank Park in Philly this past Tuesday evening. Don't be dismayed. This isn't what I was looking at for 9 innings. We had some great seats in a wonderful National League ballpark. I walked down a few steps to capture this unique piece of every stadium: the foul pole. This one is in right field. From here the wondrous green carpet and all the sights, smells and sounds could be taken in. Now, when your 'hometown team' spends its summer days toiling in a ballpark that was built in 1912, you become envious of fans that enjoy this beautiful diamond in Philadelphia, as well as fields in Baltimore and even Toronto. I've been in these three, and they all have accoutrements that that make me envy the fans that get to walk through their gates 81 times a season. Don't get me wrong, I truly love the old ballpark at Kenmore Square in Boston, but even for me 'The Green Monster', 'The Triangle' and 'Pesky's Pole' are no longer the drawing card that they once were. I say turn it into a museum; it's already a shrine. Then build one of these beauties right along side.
I can dream!
And that ain't foul!
I can dream!
And that ain't foul!
Friday, August 9, 2013
Bracelet
It's ambush photography seen here live. Well, sort of. When I see something I like, I've got to have it. Well, sort of. I guess the definition of ambush photography would be accosting someone in the street boldly and aggressively and firing away, regardless of potential harm to myself and amid protestations. But that's not me. Heck, I'm even nervous asking an unknown person on the street, if I I can take their picture. I'm pretty uncomfortable with that. Sometimes, I'm even a bit stressed asking a known entity for a shot. So here we have it today, an attractive bracelet amidst iron red chairs, a battered sidewalk and a pair of Sperries.
Oh ya, and a friend's startled wrist.
I told her, "Tish, it's blog-worthy."
I do enjoy a fine woman's wrist, entangled in bangles and such.
Oh ya, and a friend's startled wrist.
I told her, "Tish, it's blog-worthy."
I do enjoy a fine woman's wrist, entangled in bangles and such.
Thursday, August 8, 2013
Truck Passing
I like the color in this one. This street candid is filled with a little bit of this and a little bit of that. It's kind of symbolic of my life these days. I think we're all creatures of habit to some degree, but I do like to visit the buffet table and sample as much as I can. Variety makes me stronger; makes me a better person.
See, it's easy.
I can handle tofu, tabouli (or tabbouleh) and fried clams on the same plate.
Then this trash truck can clean up the place.
Bon Appetit!
See, it's easy.
I can handle tofu, tabouli (or tabbouleh) and fried clams on the same plate.
Then this trash truck can clean up the place.
Bon Appetit!
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
The Goal
Do you know where you were May 10, 1970?
I do.
Simply put, in Boston sports lore, it was the night of The Goal. May 10, 1970. It was the fourth game of the Stanley Cup Finals between the Boston Bruins and the St. Louis Blues 40 second into the first Overtime. Coming across the front of the net, Bobby Orr took a pass from Derek Sanderson, who was positioned behind the net area. As he streaked across the front of the net with the puck, he was tripped and went airborne. He let it fly. GOAL! The Bruins won the Cup with a 4-0 sweep of the Blues, and the classic photograph was etched in the minds of all Boston hockey fans forever. This statue, just outside the TD Bank Garden, notes the jubilation in Orr's face as the puck reached the net. Stocked with beers, Peter and I watched it all from the den of his mother's livingroom.
Jubilation for us too!
It was a night.
Goal!
I do.
Simply put, in Boston sports lore, it was the night of The Goal. May 10, 1970. It was the fourth game of the Stanley Cup Finals between the Boston Bruins and the St. Louis Blues 40 second into the first Overtime. Coming across the front of the net, Bobby Orr took a pass from Derek Sanderson, who was positioned behind the net area. As he streaked across the front of the net with the puck, he was tripped and went airborne. He let it fly. GOAL! The Bruins won the Cup with a 4-0 sweep of the Blues, and the classic photograph was etched in the minds of all Boston hockey fans forever. This statue, just outside the TD Bank Garden, notes the jubilation in Orr's face as the puck reached the net. Stocked with beers, Peter and I watched it all from the den of his mother's livingroom.
Jubilation for us too!
It was a night.
Goal!
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
X Spot
X marks the spot. Well, sort of. A favorite pastime other than sports growing up was 'playing army'. We'd dress up in all our military gear and head out on our clandestine maneuvers. We were always looking for twists to make it as realistic as we could. We were always on the search for 'ememy maps' that would reveal the location for our moves. I can't remember who actually did it but one of the gang pulled the bark off an old apple tree to reveal what looked to me some sort of a map, with the location of their troops marked out. It showed little pathways that lead us to a large rock in our backyard. Truth be told of course, the pathways noted were really made by bugs working under the bark, but that didn't bother us. This was a map showing the enemy's location. We actually went to the large rock, dug around its base and found some sort of small chain. What was that all about? We talked about that 'find' for weeks. Then, of course, it was back to the reality of 12 year olds. Baseball, baseball, and more baseball at Gullivers.
Summers were so long.
Summers were so long.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Sun Shield
Outdoor dining. Not in the rain today but shielding the sun away. These umbrellas caught my eye against the brick buildings. Since they are for patio dining, I'm sure when it rains hard these get folded up tight. A rainy day tends to discourage outside eating or even drinking for that matter. I plan to dine under one of these today and hit a wave pool or two.
Today, may you too find a shady spot to dine or do whatever pleases your fancy.
Today, may you too find a shady spot to dine or do whatever pleases your fancy.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
I Carry
Ever read the collected stories of Tim O'Brien, The Things They Carried? It is a group of stories about a platoon in the Vietnam War, and what they carried with them into war. Even thought the subject is about death and destruction in the everyday lives of these guys, I still found it an amazing read. Now, I'm packing for a short jaunt soon. Here's what I'm carrying in my backpack. Got copies of Mens' Health and Rolling Stone, an ipod, cell phone, a few meds, pens, a journal, notebook, my IU sweatshirt, an extra t-shirt, 2 small boxes of Mike and Ike candies, camera, headphones, a couple of bottles of water with iced tea mix to add, my sunglasses and two bananas. Yes, my laptop must be in there too and a pile of notes. I have some work that I need to take care of, hence the computer. It'll be a pretty hefty pack, but I'll unload stuff depending on the day and the itinerary. My money clip will ride in one of those side pockets.They'll probably be a couple of cigars hidden in there too. Shhh! Don't spread that around. Each one of these items is needed and has, as you might imagine, a little tale of its own. Of course, if it's in there it's important and has some measure of meaning. Honest. Which thing and story might you be interested in?
Saturday, August 3, 2013
Palette
What can't you do? The list is long for me and sadly getting a bit more lenghty by the day. Well, at least it feels that way to me.
I can't draw.
I can't paint.
I can't play the piano.
I can't fly a plane.
I can't repair my computer.
I can't build a house.
I can't captain a ship.
I can't hit a homerun at Fenway.
I can't fill my cavities.
I can't tune up my car.
I can't judge a case.
I can't walk on the moon.
I can't operate on a patient.
I can't design a skyscraper.
I can't survey my land.
I can't cure cancer.
Well, I guess you get get picture. There are lots of things I can't do in life, but in the 'plus column', I have friends and acquaintances that can do all of these things for me.
So what's the positive in all this. I realize that I can DO just about everything else on the planet. The list is long.
What do great minds say? It ain't braggin', if you can do it.
Oh, one last thing on my list.
I can't keep most things organized.
Desk tops.
Cluttered draws.
Bills.
Life.
What's on your palette this morning?
I can't draw.
I can't paint.
I can't play the piano.
I can't fly a plane.
I can't repair my computer.
I can't build a house.
I can't captain a ship.
I can't hit a homerun at Fenway.
I can't fill my cavities.
I can't tune up my car.
I can't judge a case.
I can't walk on the moon.
I can't operate on a patient.
I can't design a skyscraper.
I can't survey my land.
I can't cure cancer.
Well, I guess you get get picture. There are lots of things I can't do in life, but in the 'plus column', I have friends and acquaintances that can do all of these things for me.
So what's the positive in all this. I realize that I can DO just about everything else on the planet. The list is long.
What do great minds say? It ain't braggin', if you can do it.
Oh, one last thing on my list.
I can't keep most things organized.
Desk tops.
Cluttered draws.
Bills.
Life.
What's on your palette this morning?
Friday, August 2, 2013
Lichen
We had fun in Boston on Tuesday. Weather-wise, it was a perfect day with temperatures in the low 80's. Our plan was to walk along the Rose Kennedy Greenway to Faneuil Hall and do a couple of things we have talked about every trip to the city. We secured tickets for a cruise of Boston Harbor and then hopped on a City View trolley for an extended afternoon tour of the city. We could hop on and hop off at any of the nine stops. We stopped at the Boston Common for a leisurely stroll among the sun-laced sidewalks. Summer is such a fine time to stop at one of the many benches and eye the swanboats on the pond, and this we did. Later, this lichen-coated fence, surrounding the Boston Public Garden, pleaded for a photo, and I obliged.
Another summer adventure in the books for the Elenka and Birdman Show.
Another summer adventure in the books for the Elenka and Birdman Show.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Theme Day: Street Lamps
Today, August 1, 2013, is Theme Day across the CDPB community(citydailyphotoblog). This month's subject is the basic, reliable street light. I didn't vote for this topic at all. Too boring. When it comes to this assignment, this photograph says it all for me. However, I do have a couple of embarrassing stories surrounding me and street lamps. One involves my target shooting expertise, with my new BB gun, from my front bedroom window on Stevens Avenue. The other took place on Coyle Street and involved 'practicing' my basketball skills. Although the statue of limitations has well run out on both incidents, the fact that Mom and Day might be looking down at this computer screen prevents me from typing further information. Sorry! They probably still think of me as their angelic little boy, and I don't want to spoil their day in heaven.
Suffice to say, the devil made me do the deeds!
Suffice to say, the devil made me do the deeds!
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