Series Title Celebration Weekend – Gringo Event

These Do Not Get Old!

The inaugural event of World Series Title Celebration Weekend chronicled yesterday mitigated to a certain extent our early morning options on the day following.  My wife and I (mostly the wife) had voiced opinions on going into Boston for the victory celebration but this would be something better done as a group instead of just the two of us.  Then again there was the price to be paid for our Friday night gyrations.  The dancing queen’s legs were not as spry as they once might have been after a night of dancing.  An early morning rise to reach Boston in time for the parade was certainly not something I wanted on my dance card either.


Best Moment - Trophy at the Finish Line

We opted to watch the parade at home accompanied by the wifely recriminations that we still should have gone.  It was extremely cool, bordering on emotional, to watch the bearded wonders mount the duck boats for what has become the traditional Boston celebration of a world title.  The best moment of the day was when two of the players stopped the parade and took the World Series trophy to place it on the finish line for the Boston Marathon, the site of the April bombings. They really do get it and the Valentine enabled breach between the region and the Sox was once again sealed.

The Parade Ended in the Charles River - So Boston

Buddy took serious exception to our extended stay on the couch.  He resorted to an attack from behind trying to coax us into action.  In the “be careful what you wish for” department my wife declared a dog bath was in the offing for the pungent pooch.  It was such a beautiful day outside that I retrieved the already stored for the winter hose from the garage and Buddy was soon shaking off shampoo in the driveway.

Buddy Attacks

We were joining my slightly ancient, much older sister and her in laws for the gringo celebration of the World Series title in Rhode Island.  While enjoying dinner with her and my brother in law she took vigorous exception to my referring to her as my “elder” sister in this blog despite her advanced age.  My brother in law shook his head sagely as he saw the gleam growing in my eyes at the presentation of so much fertile material.

I took the position that “elder” was a term of respect and given that she is all of 364 days older than I am is in fact an accurate description.  Since she’s one of the nicest people around I promise to never again refer to her as my “elder” sister. 

Following dinner we adjourned to our favorite Rhode Island Irish Bar – McShawn’s where my chronologically challenged sister’s fantastic in laws had gathered.  We occupied our traditional corner booth although the crowd has grown so much that we couldn’t all fit into the booth itself.  The ladies in deference to their beauty and my sister’s microscopically advanced age seized control of the booth while the guys took up station at the bar (sacrifices must be made). 

From the Left Wife, First Born Sister, Evil Prophetess

It was one of those typical nights with this gang which meant it was special.  The euphoria surrounding the past week’s events were meant to be shared and there is no better crowd to do that with.  We also insured that my brother in law’s mystically imbued sister never again waxes prophetic about any of the Boston sports teams.  We still blame her for the 2012 Red Sox. 

My wife “volunteered” to drive home at the end of this very fun evening.  That decision may have been influenced by the amount of Coors Lite I sent down range.  Yesterday was a day of celebration around the region and I was lucky enough to spend it with some people I hold very dear – especially the “first born” sister who is definitely not ancient in spirit.

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