Well That Was Fun

At times I’m reminded, in no uncertain terms, just how deep my Keene, New Hampshire roots are. The past couple days are a perfect example of this phenomena. There’s just something that reaches back to the lizard part of my brain pumping out endorphins when I get to hang out in my hometown with a number of the people that made it my home for so many years.

Wife, I and Keene Friend at Margarita's

Driving into Keene on Sunday I was again reminded of the passing of time. Keene is justifiably famous for its Central Square park in front of an iconic white church. When I was young the signature elm trees of the “Elm City” lost their battle with Dutch elm disease. They were replaced by saplings which had the entire city bemoaning the departure of their behemoth predecessors. I remember my father telling me it would take decades for the trees to grow back to their earlier lofty height. As I topped the small hill on Main Street coming into Keene those saplings do just that now towering up to obscure most of the church.

Scores

The Keene Friend has a lot to do with that feeling of returning home. We passed a couple hours at Scores on Sunday while my wife made her obligatory shopping foray (something that’s been sadly neglected with the past two months’ worth of grandmothering). Scores was pretty deserted except for, strangely, French soccer fans. There was some sort of game going on they were intensely interested in and there wasn’t a single TV screen of the many present showing the Red Sox game. Of course this could have been in reaction to the Saturday night massacre at Fenway Park but we soon righted the world and a good third of the screens were switched to the Sox game by the waitress for us. I think she realized we were her last hope for a good tip (given the heavy French population).

Meanwhile the Granddaughter was Getting Aquatic in CA

I’ve got a touch of arthritis in my hands which seems to be progressing from the small fingers inwards. I hadn’t had my wedding wing off for years and I noticed a couple weeks ago, with all the physical exertions of the move that the ring finger had swelled to the point the ring couldn’t be taken off. I’d seen something online about using a string and told my concerned wife that was my plan. While conversing with Keene Friend about the state of the world we discovered that the liberal intake of Scores Lite beer either reduces the swelling or the acknowledgement of the pain associated with removing the ring. By the time my wife policed us up for dinner across the street the ring was off! Now, since there’s an noticeable mark, I’m going to be “that guy”, who’s obviously removed his wedding ring for some nefarious reason. I’m thinking the wife will get it re-sized quickly.

And Riggins Picked up Some Bad Buddy Habits

We had dinner across the street at the outdoor seating area for Margarita’s which allowed us unfettered views of downtown Keene as it ambled by on a technically perfect New England summer evening. There was a young couple, obviously dating, at a nearby table that drew our eye. They were both so engrossed with looking at their smart phones they were virtually ignoring each other. Keene Friend, wag that he is, opined that they were probably texting each other.

Wife and Keene Friend in Left Field at Alumni

We then set off for Alumni Field which was another event harkening back to my youth. For as long as I can remember my family always ended up watching the fireworks at Alumni Field. It’s a tradition I followed with my own family when the kids were young and we were close enough to New Hampshire to partake. We set up in deep left field after the baseball game ended, not far from the spot my daughter, not much older than her own daughter now, uttered the immortal phrase “PINK!” after her favorite color at the time every single time that color fireworks appeared. It’s something we always, to her great annoyance, remind her of whenever fireworks are viewed.

Just Before the Lights Went Out and Fireworks Started

Keene Friend and I were reminiscing about the fireworks displays of our youth which sometimes included battles between faux battleships who exchanged fireworked broadsides in center field. While those are a thing of the past (probably a good idea given the size of the crowds and the odd overshoot) it made an impression on us both. When we texted our location to our fellow native Keenite, the Pittsburgh Roommate, without prompting he asked which battleship was winning, there’s something to a shared history.

Wife and I at Otter Brook

We had some time to kill yesterday before Keene Friend 2’s birthday party so after breakfast we took the car for spin through the hills surrounding Keene. We stopped at Otter Brook Dam where we met a very grouchy, slow moving porcupine which terrified my wife. She didn’t want to leave the car within a ¼ mile of its location, fearing it would charge out of the woods to impale us. We were passing along a back road when we ran into a high school classmate out for a walk with his wife to buy eggs at a nearby farm stand. I told him he was being appropriately rustic.

And the Keene Friend

Back at Keene Friend’s house none other than the Cantankerous Friend made an appearance, complete with his own brand of attack humor. We’d tried to rope him into the prior day’s libations but he was at a family event without his phone. He was getting ready to take his dad out for an excursion but felt the need to stop be and remind us all of our shortcomings. It was a nice visit and good to see him.

Cantankerous One Arrives!

Late in the afternoon we finally made our way over to the other side of Keene for the highlight of the weekend – Keene Friend 2’s birthday. He was being ushered into the big 6 0 club, the last member of our group of friends to achieve that status. His fantastic girlfriend was throwing him a surprise party; the “surprise” however did not survive the planning stage. It was very nice gathering of friends, including several other high school classmates under yet another perfect summer evening.

Party Time

Everyone was asked to provide a memory of Keene Friend 2 and, while he did not attend, the Cantankerous Friend’s missive was one of the true hits. He remembered a probably fictitious basketball game from our youth at Franklin School, which court we all haunted mercilessly during high school. He said what made this particular game memorable was the fact that it was the only time in recorded history that anyone remembered the Pittsburgh Roommate ever passing the ball.

Keene Friend 2 and his Fantastic Girlfriend

It was memories like those and too many others to chronicle that made the day special. There was also the presence of a death by chocolate cake and some of the best frosted sugar cookies I’ve ever tasted contributing to the excellence. Just before we left for the trek home we connected with Pittsburgh Roommate so he could regale us with the exploits of the Stanley Cup champion Penguins. Keene Friend 2, a hardened Boston Bruins fan, took the jibe in good stride while my wife suggested he use the Penguins T-shirt he’d received as a birthday gift to clean toilets (I told she was dangerous!).

Meanwhile Out in Cali Some Others Were Heading Out to Party

So after a two month span where I couldn’t get up to Keene enough, the past couple days more than redeemed the absence. The immersion with friends and memories was exactly what a bone tired mind and body needed. While the trees in the center of town provide ample evidence time has passed nothing can dent the place this small town (and its people) have in my heart.