Sweet Surprise

It took two weeks and nine modes of transportation to complete our recent trip.

Several months ago we received an Evite from our brother-in-law. He and the kids were planning a surprise 60th birthday party for Chuck’s sister. We couldn’t resist. But we decided to do something different. We decided to travel by train - - - to Seattle, Washington. Yes, four days and three nights on the train vs. five hours by plane. We looked on it as an “adventure”. Well, sometimes we saw it as an adventure; sometimes we saw it as a what-have-we-gotten-ourselves-into?

But at the surprise party, in the moment when Chuck’s sister ran into his arms, we knew it had all been worth it.

Mike Lowell

Mike “I only know how to hit doubles and home runs” Lowell is still going to retire at the end of this season. The Red Sox will be honoring him before the October 2nd home game. Lowell is one of my favorite players and I hate to see him go. This article by Ian Browne is a great read. It sums up Mike Lowell and his terrific career.

Update: Thankfully, it looks as if Mike was not seriously injured when he was hit in the right temple by the ball, during tonight’s game against the Evil Empire. A game which we won!

F-Stop

I know that there is sunshine and all manner of flora and fauna outside this summer. I know that United States and international politics have not evaporated. I know that the environment and the economy are both still struggling. And it’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that our world has shrunk. The lens we focus to view life through has sharpened and narrowed.

Here’s what we see through that lens:

: : Today marks six weeks post surgery for me - just two more to go.
: : Carrie is doing quite well. She and her husband Al are still working together beautifully as they care for each other and their new daughter.
: : Isabella is one tough little chick. She is sweet and mellow and feisty all rolled up together. She has completely captivated us all. In her thirteen days there has been only one substantial scare - one in thirteen days! Amazing, really, for a child born so soon; so small. (Yes I am knocking on wood.)
: : My sister Gail (Grandma or perhaps GG) heads back to Georgia tomorrow - not the direction she wishes to head right now.
: : My tooth broke and required a trip to our good dentist and (cha-ching) another crown.
: : iPhoto ‘09 and Photoshop CS5 and I are on very good and close terms. I take huge numbers of photos of Isabella and the family and spend hours (which feel like minutes) poring over them; trying to find the best ones.
: : The Boston Red Sox are 69 and 52 on the season - that’s 69 wins, 52 losses, which is incredibly good considering the dugout and bull pen look more like hospital wards.

Happily, most of what is listed above is now good and positive. Some of it has been stressful and challenging. But beyond normal daily routines, we have allowed little else in. I need to correct that last statement. We have not only allowed but welcomed your encouragement and good wishes for Isabella and her parents. Thank you!

To Remember & Honor

This New York Times article reports on the efforts of the Negro Leagues Grave Marker Project. Over the last six years, the group has provided nineteen headstones for Negro League players with unmarked graves.

________________________________________________

When my father died in 1988, he was buried in the same plot with his parents and two brothers, one of whom had died in infancy. Seeing the headstone was painful for me because it was inscribed simply with our family surname and my grandfather’s full name. It frustrated and even angered me that there were no other names and no dates at all, to acknowledge and remember who was buried there.

From a genealogical perspective, the lack of information on the stone was also hard to accept. Many times Chuck and I have gone to a cemetery and been able to add more information to the family tree and even detail to family stories. But it was through my genealogical research, my imagination and my poetry that I was finally able to make peace with my Dad’s headstone and his father’s decision, made nearly a century before.


In Rhode Island, 1910

He was a young man
younger than I am now
Married to a woman
who was not warm and funny
which in courtship
somehow suited him
and suited her
He knew her past
and she his
But back then
self help
was an odd grammatical construction
for what one did to live a life
not what one was told to do
to live it well

So when their first child
a son –
the special pride and blessing
of any man
to have his first born be a son –
when that child died
a babe in arms
a piece of him died too
A piece of her as well
But as the man
he had the job
of going to the bank
and riding to the churchyard
and picking out a plot
and then a stone

He was not a man of means
though he had hope
He chose a smooth flat marker
the color of lead
the weight of his heart
one to lie firmly in the ground
It was all he could afford
but it was sensible as well

And what to put upon the stone?
He stood there
looking at the slab of granite
polished high
with flowers swirling in the corners
in the center
the Sacred Heart strangled with thorns
thorns he felt in his heart
Saw the stone was bigger
than his son had been
thought about how the plot
was fit for four
and of his grieving bride at home
wondered if the next child -
for surely there would be another –
would survive
and said, no dates
just “SMITH - John L. Smith Family” *
and wondering too
how swiftly would the plot be filled
he headed home
to a house thick with mourners
and muffled tears


- LMR/Pink Granite

*Name edited

Question

How long after a musical is born does one have to wait for an Original Cast Recording to come out as a CD?

I would like an O.C.R. of “Johnny Baseball” A.S.A.P.!

I can see it in my mind. I can remember snatches of dialogue and lyrics. But I am unable to hum, whistle or sing any songs from the show.

This must be rectified!

Johnny Baseball

Yes, I am a fan of the Boston Red Sox, but you don’t need to be one in order to love “Johnny Baseball”. All you need is a heart.

Tonight, Chuck and I attended the fourth night of the world premiere of this musical at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge. It was terrific! It tells the tale of the Boston Red Sox from 1900 right up until they miraculously turned the corner in Game Four of the 2004 American League Championship Series.

The creative team of Robert Reale, Willie Reale and Richard Dresser (originally from Holden!), with the able direction of Diane Paulus, manage to compress a century of baseball, culture and racism into the story of two fictional characters: Johnny O’Brien, the outstanding Red Sox pitcher who, so humbly embodies the sport, he becomes known as Johnny Baseball and Daisy Wyatt the African American blues singer who captures his heart. Over the course of two fast paced hours we come to understand the real reason for the curse which kept the Red Sox from winning a World Series for 86 impossibly long years. And we face head on the bigotry which led to the Red Sox being the last baseball team to integrate with the hiring of Pumpsie Green in 1959 - twelve years after Jackie Robinson broke that barrier in 1947.

“Johnny Baseball” is creatively but lightly staged to perfection. Little more than a set of bleachers, the Fenway Park sign, the Green Monster and a few tables and chairs frame each scene. (The stagehands deserve kudos for their seamless and unobtrusive work.) The lighting, coupled with the thrust configuration of the Loeb Drama Center created focus and intimacy with the cast. Nearly all of the members of the ensemble play multiple roles. Happily, the cast is filled with powerful, lovely voices. Despite perhaps three brief microphone glitches, the sound was solid tonight, with the music and voices complementing each other; never competing. Costuming was detailed and evocative of each era represented and added to the ease of transitions as the storyline progresses through the decades, with repeated cuts back to the pivotal Game Four in 2004. Yes, there is a touch of “Field of Dreams” and “The Natural” in “Johnny Baseball”, but the show is unique. (Oh how I want to tell the entire story in detail, but I don’t wish to ruin any plot twists and surprises!)

From the moment you arrive and staff in Red Sox jerseys take your tickets, while another “hawks” the program; to the sausage cart on the patio at intermission, the A.R.T., under the blessedly accessible artistic direction of Diane Paulus, echoes the atmosphere and excitement of Fenway Park. After the opening number “86 Years” I found myself smiling and thinking: “The trip was worth it just for this number.” But “Johnny Baseball” held and even raised the bar through both acts. By the time the full company sang the final number “The Game of Baseball” I was in tears.

The entire cast is to be commended for their talent, clarity and passion:
Colin Donnell
Stepanie Umoh
Charl Brown
Burke Moses
Jeff Brooks
Robert McClure
Joe Cassidy
Alan H. Green
Carly Jibson
Kaitlyn Davidson
Kirsten Wyatt
Paula Leggett Chase
Charles Turner
Erik March

They deserved the standing ovation we gave them. They also deserved a full house!

“Johnny Baseball” is playing at the A.R.T. through June 27, 2010. Treat yourself and get tickets now!

P.S. Our beloved Boston and Southern New England accent is so often played too broadly or just plain mangled in television shows and movies, that Dialect Coach Nancy Houfek deserves three cheers for helping the performers get it right!

Red Robin

On our trips to Washington state we discovered the Red Robin restaurants. They began in Seattle during the 1940s. The food was always good; not terribly expensive. The restaurants were clean, bright, with interesting posters, photographs and artwork on the walls. And the staff was unfailingly cheerful. I’ve mentioned in previous posts that the helpfulness of many employees in Washington state initially took us by surprise. So it was easy to assume that the positive vibe we experienced at Red Robin was simply part of the cultural fabric of the Northwest. Then Red Robin opened a restaurant in Millbury and we gave it a whirl. With the exception of the southern New England accents, we could have been back in Greater Seattle!

Last night we stopped at Red Robin on our way home from Rhode Island. Friday night found them busy and bustling. The gal at the desk told us we would have about a twenty minute wait. It turned out to be closer to twenty-five, but that was close enough. While we waited, Chuck and I entertained ourselves by watching the Red Sox game on the television sets and listening to the names of diners being called when their tables were ready. When I was a kid, my Dad always gave our last name to the host. Nowadays, folks tend to give their first name, us included. (The exception would be when we call and make a reservation or use a service like Open Table.) As the names were called out, we began pretending famous people were in the house. We would hear “Taylor, party of two.” and one of us would exclaim “Taylor Swift is here!” We kept this up with rapid conversions from ordinary people to mostly young, hip celebrities including Matt Damon, Lindsay Lohan, Kenny Chesney, Josh Beckett and so on. The one that stumped us was “Julie, party of four.” We wracked our brains for a contemporary celebrity named Julie. Chuck finally offered Julie Harris and I volunteered Julie Andrews. At that point we felt really, really old! But the time sure had flown by!

When we were comfortably seated in a booth, Chuck noticed that the staff had something embroidered on the sleeve of their polo shirts. It read “Honor, Integrity, Continually Seeking Knowledge and Having Fun”. Turns out that’s what Red Robin describes as their core values. No wonder we like Red Robin!

New Beginnings

We are tired but happy. We shared a fun Easter dinner down in Rhode Island with the family this afternoon. Driving down Route 295 we could see the Warwick Mall, thankfully no longer under water, but with an uncertain date to reopen. The sandbags piled along the sides of roadways was unsettling and a clear reminder on a gorgeous, sunny day of how much destruction had been wrought less than a week ago.

Now we are back home, watching the Boston Red Sox play the New York Yankees on opening day night at Fenway Park. Yes, I want the Red Sox to win. But mostly I am just tickled pink both teams are putting on one heck of a good show! Baseball is back in full swing (puns be damned) and that is a very good thing!


: : Update: Final Score: Red Sox 9, Yankees 7

So good, so good, so good!

Check Mate

Here in the U.S. they run an awful lot of advertisements for dating services. They talk about the science, simplicity and safety of having their particular service match you with your true love. We have two reactions when we see these ads: 1. Thank God we’re not looking. And 2. They never would have matched us!

On paper there is very little Chuck and I have in common. He likes classical music; I tolerate it. He does crossword puzzles daily; I think them unnecessarily abstruse. He’s very social and outgoing; I believe good fences make good neighbors. He was raised Jewish; I was raised Catholic. When we met, Chuck enjoyed his role as an intellectual snob: while I liked to have my finger on the pulse of popular culture. He listened to NPR; I watched MTV (back when they aired videos!). He grew up in the midwest; I’m Rhode Island all the way. He is fifteen years my senior; umm - same in reverse. Then there was the whole taxes issue, which I’m not sure if dating services poll people on, but which took a couple of decades and Barack Obama to resolve for us.

Now, I suppose, if they dug deeply enough, any dating service (or more likely a human matchmaker, a shadchen) would figure out that we share a common set of values. They also would figure out that we both love to laugh. But would they have any idea that we laugh at a lot of the same things - Marx Brothers and Three Stooges excepted? How would they know that word play makes us ridiculously happy and to do it in multiple languages is a grand slam? Speaking of baseball, we were both just casual baseball fans, but, after meeting, became devoted Boston Red Sox fans together. Where are the boxes to tick for all that?

When we met, we knew. No, we didn’t know we would marry one day. But we did feel a connection; a sense of old friends reuniting; a spark. I don’t know how the dating services figure that out. I’m just happy we were lucky enough not to require outside assistance.

Thank You “Nomaah”!

By the time Nomar Garciaparra left the Boston Red Sox in 2004, I was reluctantly ready to have him leave. From the moment Nomar arrived in 1996 I thought he was the bees’ knees. He had it all in both offense and defense and he was unfailingly polite and cheerful. He had a quirky at bat routine which was all too easily imitated, but who cared? The guy delivered - sometimes amazingly so. Chuck’s Dad used to tease us that it was unfair of us to have two shortstops: Garcia and Parra! And the way Nomar played, you could be forgiven for thinking we had an extra player in the field. But prior to his departure in 2004 he seemed so darned miserable every day. There had been the ugly trade-that-never-was at the end of 2003 which seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth - not to mention having freaked out Red Sox Nation. Ironically, it was after Nomar left in 2004 that the long drought/curse came to an end and the Red Sox won their first World Series since 1918. But the players knew how important Nomar had been to their overall success and voted to include him as a recipient of a ring.

Today, Nomar signed a one day contract with the Boston Red Sox so that he could officially retire from major league baseball as a member of the organization. Watching the news conference I saw the Nomar we had all adored during his eight years in Boston. Gone was the pain of the trades and the injuries. What shone through was the kid who had played in the Cape Cod League, made it to the majors and got to live out a dream. Along the way he earned a permanent place in the heart of Red Sox Nation.

Never Miss A Moment

For several years, Chuck has created a calendar reflecting the schedule for the Boston Red Sox, using an Excel spreadsheet. This year, he discovered that the Red Sox have a downloadable iCal subscription!

Why aren’t you all jumping up and down with unbridled excitement?

It’s the Boston Red Sox.
It’s a downloadable calendar for Apple’s iCal.
And it’s a subscription - meaning if there’s a change, it will automatically update your calendar.

There you go, now I can feel you jumping up and down with unbridled excitement!
For just a second there, you had me a wee bit worried.

So good, so good, so good!

Less Than Two Weeks...

Olympics shlympics!
The very first spring training game for the Boston Red Sox will take place Wednesday, March 3, 2010!

Yes, I know the Olympics are happening in Vancouver, British Columbia. (I’m even aware of the oddly international family of skaters: The Reeds. There are interesting sports and less interesting sports; nifty outfits and zany outfits; and fabulously beautiful medals being awarded - and occasionally broadcast. Despite NBC’s endless hours of frenetic, scattershot coverage, they seem less interested in the events and more interested in their “packages” and interviews in front of the fake (Thank you Stephen Colbert!) fireplace.)

I know the official Republicans are embracing the wingers and the extremists. (While they seem to relish being the party of NO, they want their power back. To get it they need, as George Steinbrenner was known to say, “meat in the seats”. To get that, they need voters in the booths. The TeaPartyTypes we see on television are just the ones who made the scurrilous signs and hit the streets. There are more of them at home shouting at their TVs. The Republicans are pandering to and partnering with them to get their votes, so they can be the party in legitimate power once again. Not just wielding the kind of power toddlers do when they throw themselves down on the floor of the grocery store, in a full blown tantrum, demanding the candy bar.)

In the good news column, I know the Public Option appears to have taken a turn for the better. (Although I don’t know exactly how the patient was resuscitated nor who administered CPR, I suspect it was the progressives - both voters and members of Congress. It is also possible that the Democrats, in a collective epiphanous moment, decided to leave the screaming toddlers wailing on the floor and act in the best interests of the American people.)

All that said, I confess to news burnout. Good, bad or truly strange news - I don’t much care. I am crispy. I am ready for spring training. I’m ready for old friends to take the field and the new players to introduce themselves. I want to hear Don and Jerry and the Eeyoresque sound of the foghorn as Jerry declares the “fog of spring training”. I want it to be simpler. And yes, the complex minutiae of baseball statistics and rules will be a blessed, comforting, distracting relief from governmental politics and the politics of international sport.

Hallelujah!

Even as I type this, the Red Sox are loading the equipment truck for spring training.

Take a moment to let that sink in.

At noon today the truck will leave Fenway Park in Boston and begin the trip to Fort Myers, Florida.

Spring training is coming!
Spring training is coming!
Spring training is coming!

So good, so good, so good!

Blue About Red

The Boston Red Sox lost today. That means, as far as our Red Sox are concerned, the major league baseball season is over. We are not happy campers in this neck of the woods. The photo above is the cheeriest thing I could muster.

Odds & Ends

: : Maria Shriver’s eulogy for her mother Eunice Kennedy Shriver was brilliant. It was warm, funny, inspiring, revealing (“I don’t want to hear one more yip out of you.”) and full of love.

: : Any alcohol based hand sanitizer you purchase must contain at least 60% alcohol in order to be effective, this according to the CDC. Why do I know this? I dislike the strong fragrance in commercial hand sanitizer products. I began investigating making my own unscented version after I got sticker shock over the price of an unscented commercial version.

: : Chuck brought home a perfectly lovely and petite cauliflower from the Farmers’ Market. Despite the heat, I made up a cheese sauce for it and it was very tasty. Why do I crave autumnal dishes during the dog days of summer? Why do I give in to those cravings? And how do you pronounce cauliflower?

: : What’s up with the inconsistencies with our Sunday newspaper delivery? I know you can’t answer that question, it’s just on my mind, it being Sunday and all.

: : Can the Boston Red Sox rebound from this lousy position of being 7.5 games behind the New York Yankees in the American League East? In a similar vein: can anyone keep up with this season’s ever changing Red Sox roster?

Well Deserved

Jim Rice, 56, and Rickey Henderson, 50, were both inducted today into the National Baseball Hall of Fame at Cooperstown, New York. Both men were veterans of the Boston Red Sox, Rice having spent his entire career there. Both come across as good guys, were great players and are deserving of this honor. Congratulations to them both!

High Cheese

I really like Jerry Remy, the color commentator for the NESN television broadcasts of Boston Red Sox games. And I miss Jerry ever since he took a leave of absence to more fully recuperate from lung cancer surgery and some subsequent infections. Selfishly, I was worried about what the broadcasts would be like with a string of substitute co-hosts joining play-by-play guy Don Orsillo in the booth. But it has turned out great. Two former Red Sox players Dave Roberts and Dennis Eckersley, along with a few other broadcast veterans, have filled in for Jerry. Each one has his own style and has managed to be both informative and entertaining. Miraculously, none of them have been annoying; none of them have been cringe inducing or had that fingernails-on-a-blackboard quality about their on-air performance. (All of which puts the miserable baseball broadcasters over at ESPN and Fox Sports into sharp relief!)

My personal favorite has turned out to be Dennis Eckersley. “Eck” is a colorful guy. His grammar and syntax occasionally require a road map, but it’s his creative, inside-baseball lingo which leaves us charmed and chuckling. Eck was a pitcher and has innumerable ways to describe a pitch - my personal favorites: “high cheese” (an excellent fastball) and “salad” (bad pitching)*! He also speaks his mind giving frank opinions about players - both Red Sox and opposing players - but he is never mean spirited. Mind you, Eck doesn’t have much of a governor and has been caught swearing and stumbling through the occasional awkward malapropism. No matter, he’s a breath of fresh air. I wish Jerry Remy all the best, especially a swift and complete recovery. But he can rest assured, the Red Sox color commentary is in good and very interesting hands.

*Here’s a link to a good Eck Glossary.

To Clarify

Leaving the ballpark before the game has ended just to try to beat traffic is a sin. If your team, specifically the Boston Red Sox, is ahead and you get up to leave, it is a venial sin. However, if you get up to leave the park, for any reason other than a life threatening medical emergency, while the Red Sox are trailing, it is, in fact, a mortal sin.

So behave yourself.
Or plan your Hail Marys, Our Fathers and fiery afterlife accordingly.

Oh What A Night!

We were at Fenway Park in Boston last night! Our niece Kate gave us a call Monday afternoon inviting us to join her at last night’s game. She had come into three tickets through a friend of a friend and was kind enough to think of us. She did not have to ask us twice!

This was only my third trip to Fenway. Chuck and I went together for the first time in the summer of 2001. Let’s just say that while being at Fenway Park and seeing the Red Sox play in person had been fabulous, there were some extenuating familial circumstances which threw a big wet blanket over the whole experience. Shortly after that trip, we were at my Mom’s condo in Rhode Island regaling my family about the high highs and the low lows of the night. Kate, along with her sister Carrie, slipped away to Mom’s bedroom to make a call. The next thing we knew, they were asking if we were free on such-and-such a date near the end of September. Unbeknownst to us, the two girls had called to get us four seats at Fenway. They were determined to give us a totally satisfying night at the ballpark watching our beloved Red Sox together. That was how, just a couple of weeks after September 11, 2001, we all went to the park and had a great time from start to finish. The event was certainly overshadowed by the recent terrorist attacks, but somehow the joy was also heightened. There was a sense of collective determination, courage and patriotism palpable in the crowd that night.

Last night was our third trip to Fenway Park. The Red Sox were playing the Toronto Blue Jays. The weather was perfect: mild, clear and dry. The seats were amazing. (If you click on the photo above, you can more clearly see the panoramic view from where we were seated behind home plate.) The place smelled good - the special incense of grill smoke, sausages, hot dogs and popcorn (with only a faint whiff of spilled beer near the end!). It looked good - from the new seating, to the Green Monster, to the sea of red hats, tee shirts and jackets proclaiming our membership in Red Sox Nation. And it sounded good - laughter, cheers, boos, vendors hawking food and souvenirs and the crowd singing: the National Anthem, Take Me Out To The Ball Game and Sweet Caroline.

I have to admit that it is very distracting being at the ballpark. In many ways, it is much easier to watch and follow the game closely at home via television. At the park, there is a relentless three ring circus of sights and sounds competing for your attention. Sometimes the side action is so compelling that you need the scoreboard to catch up with the primary purpose of the event. But when David “Big Papi” Ortiz came up to bat all eyes were on him. The crowd rose to their feet to cheer him on; willing the Designated Hitter and fan favorite to break out of his home run drought. It didn’t happen last night, but Papi hit one high and hard out of center field tonight!

Was last night a great night? Absolutely! Not just because the Red Sox beat the Blue Jays 2 - 1, but because once again we were in the living, pounding heart of Red Sox Nation. For the third time in my 51 years I was able to viscerally feel what it’s like to be on baseball’s sacred ground. No, I didn’t genuflect, but I could have. Especially walking out of the underground concourse and up the ramp into the park. At first all you can see is blue sky above the heads of the throng of people in front of you. Then you emerge from the tunnel and the green of the field spreads out before you. It takes your breath away.

Yeah, it was a great night.

Thanks Kate!

Revisionism - On The Fly

You know it has been a very low, slow and exceptionally lazy Sunday when your “accomplishments” include: cooked (and ate) brunch, cooked (and ate) dinner, fed cats - twice, scooped kitty litter, showered and called Mom.

Can I blame it on the gray, drizzly day? I can sure as heck try!

Oh! I did Tweet on Twitter a couple of times and I watched the Red Sox lose to Tampa Bay - again. Actually, whenever the Red Sox lose a game, it is automatically followed by a period of angst and worrying. So that took up quite a big portion of the day. Which means my day was down right jam packed with activities!

I feel so much more virtuous now!