Semi Aquatic Wife Day and a Blindside Block

The Water Park Gang

The wife took advantage of yet another perfect New England summer day yesterday by joining the next door Mafioso along with her daughter and grandchildren for a trip to a water park. I was a little surprised that my wife would avail herself of this opportunity because water temperatures native New Englanders consider balmy my favorite Panamanian claims must be straight from the Arctic. Predictably I received a call from her half way through the day reporting the water was way too cold to swim in. I asked her if the accompanying kids were of the same opinion. They had yet to leave the water since arriving and she was going to leave the gamboling to them. She was having a fantastic time though engaging in her favorite pastime – conversing. She and her fellow Panamanian spent the day watching the kids cavort and talking the day away.  

Pool Beauties - My Wife (l) and the Next Door Mafioso

The water park (which has THE most annoying TV commercials – a true mute button decision point) was perilously close to Portsmouth and my favorite son. Unfortunately he was working in Boston and unavailable even after work due to a volleyball came with the ABFA. She took this stiff arm with grace and squired the accompanying pack of neighbors to a restaurant in Portsmouth that is justifiably famous as the place the favorite son (who did provide parking advice) met the ABFA for the first time (so - hallowed ground).

How do You Not Partake?

Seriously!

Some great news yesterday from Panama as one of my wife’s favorite aunts, and incidentally one of the nicest people ever, tied the knot with her longtime boyfriend. They’d been together for more than a decade, both widowed, and perfect for each other. Heartfelt congratulations to the happy couple who deserve every happiness. Just another reason to celebrate, not that we needed another, on the next trip to Panama. 

The Newlyweds at Their Civil Ceremony

I have reported in the past the absolute awe in which I hold most authors. I’ve been an avid reader for as long as I can remember, a legacy from my late mother who grew up in a library. Since I’ve been scribbling my nonsensical ramblings here for the last few years I’ve acquired an even deeper respect for the masters of the craft. They seem to easily produce what I sometimes struggle at mightily. It was therefore with not a little bit of astonishment that Lawrence Block himself responded to one of my blog posts earlier this week where I reported my newfound fascination with his novels and flawed hero Matthew Scudder. I think it’s so cool that a seriously successful author took some time out to connect with one of his fans.  Lawrence Block August 6, 2015 at 9:33 AM “Good to hear—and there are enough of them to keep you going for a while!”

Mr. Block - Thanks Dude!

California Shifts

A nearly flawless New England summer day yesterday was further enhanced with a phone conversation with the Cali-Daughter. She reported the WingMan was back on station which improved her quality of life significantly. They had just returned from the latest pre-natal doctor visit. The news was all good! The baby has shifted around to a more proper position of head down in the womb. My daughter confirmed the shift with repeated internal kicks to her ribs she’d been experiencing of late. The first blog reader certainly has inherited the leg elevated kicking style of the dad – the WingMan. In more technical news the placenta also shifted to a better position – I’m still not sure what that means but I nodded knowingly when it was reported.

Baby Bump Progress as of Last Night

Second date night this week and we doubled up with the next door Mafioso couple which made it even more fun. We went to see the new Vacation movie which was every bit as gross and puerile as promised – and also very funny. My wife laughed almost continuously and as we were leaving said she didn’t like the movie. When I asked her why she was laughing so hard she said it was funny but “so stupid”. I said that’s the point. That’s an apt description of the entire series of Vacation movies – the humor is gross but undeniable. There were several nods to the earlier films – often with very funny sudden turns – such as the fate of the beautiful woman in the hot car.

This movie has the next generation of the Griswold clan taking to the road. Clark’s son Rusty (Ed Helms) is now the accident prone but loving dad with kids unappreciative of the majesty of the family vacation. Helms is funnier than Chevy Chase was in the original but the movie plays more like a series of skits. We follow the Griswold family across country in their Albanian rental car where they encounter a cesspool swim, a well-endowed brother in law, a cannibalistic steer, and maniacal truck driver. Leslie Mann is completely underused as the now grown sister but there’s an endless parade of cameos that contribute to the fun. It doesn’t help that both of the kids are more insufferable than needed. An overblown zeppelin is called upon to reprise the role of Clark Griswold, the billing said it was Chevy Chase but I’m not so sure. So, not a film to revel in thespian excellence but pretty damned funny.

No Way That's Chevy Chase!

I also finished off another Lawrence Block book featuring Matthew Scudder in Time to Murder and Create. Yes, I did blow through the book in most unseemly haste but that’s a true indication of how well written the book was. Scudder, as the flawed hero, takes on a case of a blackmailer who wants Scudder to pinpoint his murderer if one of his victims chooses to end him. Of course one of them does which sends Scudder out in search of justice. He does so by engaging with each of the victims to think he has taken up the reins of the blackmail and therefore a target for the murderer. Block does a fantastic job of blurring the lines of good and evil while the hero deals with his own ghosts and guilt. I’m now firmly on the hook for the rest of the Scudder novels, not a bad place to be. 

Blown Away Mission

Storm Coming in Outside my Office Yesterday

Some really ill winds were blowing yesterday with powerful thunderstorms rocketing through the region. My wife hosted a bunch of neighbors from our old house in Charlton who fortified her for the experience. Buddy seems to handle storms a little better here in the big, still not a hero though. I was watching outside my office as the storms rolled in incredibly fast. I’ve always been a fan of getting as close to the storm as possible – something that drives my wife to distraction. My sister was not as lucky down in Rhode Island where a fierce storm tumbled a neighbor’s tree into their yard on top of both their pool and beloved deck. No one was hurt but I can’t imagine my sister getting through the rest of the summer without her daily dips in the pool.

Sister's Pool Yesterday

The storms abided enough late in the day to permit date night where we saw the latest in the Mission Impossible series – Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation. This is the best in the series with a well-constructed, intelligent plot and subtle humor poking fun at some of the earlier installments that doesn’t take away from the story. The IMF force is under attack from Washington bureaucrats as well as a mysterious crime organization that always seems one step ahead.

The series is justifiably famous for daring stunt work but this film takes them to an entirely new level. Cruise starts the movie out riding on the outside of a cargo plane during takeoff and it’s obvious that he did the work and wasn’t CGI’d in. This is the first of many stunt sequences that shatter the jaw dropping barrier and even a jaded movie goer such as myself was left in awe. You go into one of these expecting to be dazzled but they go well beyond that. The real revelation though was the female lead, Rebecca Ferguson as Ilsa. She was every bit the match for Cruise’s Ethan Hunt and was the reason this movie is clearly the best of the entire series and one of the best I’ve seen all year.

A few weeks ago I remarked that watching the movie A Walk Among the Tombstones felt a lot like reading a detective story set in New York City, one of my favorite genres. Lawrence Block has written a whole series of novels featuring the Tombstone’s hero, Matthew Scudder, starting back in the 1970s. The master himself, Stephen King, heaped praise on Block’s work and I’m surprised I’ve never sampled him before. I started at the beginning and just finished the first in his Scudder novels, The Sins of the Fathers.

Scudder, a former policeman, working as an unofficial private eye seeks justice for customers while paying penance for a young girl accidentally shot in a shootout he was involved in while a still a policeman. In this first case a father comes to him trying to find out about his recently murdered daughter and this leads Scudder down a path learning about the lives of two dead young people. He learns in his very workmanlike manner of a dark truth and seeks justice in his own way. While the book, written in the 1970s, is obviously dated it remained a very good read and Scudder a very likable, flawed hero. I’ve already started with the second book.

Again! C’mon!!

I’m beginning to think Monday took personal exception to my recent diatribes as to its general putridity (aha! it is a word!). After a fantastic weekend I was at least not faced with another “event” with Buddy’s digestive system. This week I decided to do it to myself. There I was trying to be modern man and help out with the household chores. I’m thinking however that it is better to remove your wallet from your pants before you put them in the washing machine. At least it gave me a reason to perform that dreaded task of assessing what is actually needed in the wallet. The water made some of its own selections. It’s kind of amazing what ends up in a wallet and then forgotten about. My wife was more than ready to assist in the effort and even took the high road on my intelligence level for doing it in the first place.

I think this was due to her plans for me as soon as I came home from work. Since we used the entire weekend to have fun the planned project of installing curtain rods had been delayed. Monday struck again in full force as I spent three hours on this last evening. Another one of the great things about getting old is the body’s reaction to physical labor. Apparently there are muscles only used when you turn a screw driver. While I acknowledge I haven’t kept these muscles in top form, I take serious objection to have them to start barking at me before I finished the first window (with eight more to go). We needed the curtains though as working on my tan with the early summer sun was not something I treasure a couple hours before the alarm goes off.

My Blister Mediation Technique

I’m turning into a cream puff because half way through the project I opened up a blister on the palm of my hand, in addition to puncturing the tip of my index finger in a separate event (my son is laughing right now). My wife always says she can tell where I do work around the house – just follow the blood trail. She did raise her eyebrows at the method I used to continue working though – duct tape has so many uses.

Welcome Remy!!!!!

In entirely more pleasant news my failure to bring Buddy with us down to Rhode Island on Sunday must have kicked in my sister’s need for a Labrador fix. My namesake nephew proudly proclaimed the arrival of a yellow lab named Remy to the clan. If his pictures are any indication he’s going to be a lot of fun to have around. He must have done something right in a former life to end up under my sister’s roof or as Buddy refers to it – “The place where dreams come true and begging works every time”. Welcome to the fam Remy!

Namesake Nephew and Remy Last Night
I Think These Two Are Going to Get Along

South Run

I Did Not Want this Weekend to End (Do I ever?)

I will admit to awaking a little bleary eyed yesterday morning after a Saturday filled with good times with my longest serving friends. The amount of fun experienced Saturday more than made up for the price paid on Sunday morning. Alka Seltzter performed admirably and a full breakfast with Keene Friend at the neighborhood Friendly’s more than restored fighting form. Despite the extended shopping time on the previous day my wife decreed there were still some objectives eluding her. She set out for another two hours of shopping while Keene Friend and I conducted inner eyelid inspections while officially watching some old action movie.

My Wife's Baby Shower 

I was reluctant to leave Keene, once again, because of all the memory lanes walked on Saturday but reality and the impending work week imposed itself. Melancholy was defeated upon arrival in Worcester with a message from my sister who invited us down for a Sunday evening barbecue with her peerless in-laws. Buddy was of course invited but I was taking no chances with his gastro-intestinal system, especially given my sister’s inability to resist his state of the art begging capacity and the ensuing digestive crisis.

The Gathering

My brother in law roundly concurred with my decision not to deploy the Wonder Pooch. I believe his exact words were, “that would have been a monumentally bad idea!” given all the low hanging food available. He and I share the experience of recent cleanups. His younger brother and sister continued their life long argument as to who was the favorite child when the cosmos entered the fray and may have answered the question definitively. The younger brother picked up a bottle of diet coke to pour himself a beverage when he turn around the bottle to show his sister the word – “Favorite” clearly printed on the bottle. While we all considered this the final answer on the debate the younger sister was having none of it.

Definitive Proof From a Higher Power

It was a perfect summer evening out on my sister’s back deck and the company was every bit as stimulating as anticipated. These Sunday get togethers were a staple of my brother in law’s clan when his mother, the late, but infinitely great Miss Louise, was available to host them. Following her death the practice went out custom and this marked an attempt to resurrect. My wife and I are lucky enough to flit around the edges of this close knit group and enjoy the deep sense of family that pervades any of their gatherings.

The Most Excellent Chef - My Sister

The trip back was fraught with Rhode Island drivers but even they, in the infinite capacity to frustrate, were incapable of denting the calm sense of contentment of a weekend spent in the company of family and friends. Buddy gave it another shot when we got home, I’m guessing in protest of his exclusion, to no avail.

Epochs of Epic Friends

I bit the bullet yesterday and agreed to accompany my wife on a trip back to my hometown so she could do some baby shower shopping free of the constraints of Taxachusetts. Of course that meant I got to hang out with my friends at Keene’s many fine establishments offering adult beverages. I therefore didn’t consume any ammunition because going back to Keene is one of the most enjoyable activities currently on my dance card. My wife was anxious to get an early start and somehow I got in trouble for delaying our departure even though she was the last one to get ready. Keene Friend is falling back into old ways of working on Saturdays but thankfully only a half day. My initial plan, once my wife dropped me off, was to tie Buddy off in the shade behind Keene Friend’s house and then walk around the corner to the neighborhood bar to await his arrival. My wife said this could be damaging psychologically to Buddy and refused to leave until I agreed to wait for Keene Friend with Buddy. Since I’m not brave enough to stand between my wife and shopping and Buddy can’t afford any more psychological damage I waited the fifteen minutes for Keene Friend to arrive.

My Friend and I Across the Street From Where we Met in Kindergarten in 1960

Keene Friend and I started out at the neighborhood bar, Penuche’s, which had a full vat of popcorn on hand. I’d been corresponding with another old friend hoping to link up with him during the afternoon as well. He was my very best friend from kindergarten through 2d grade and I was now sending emails to him literally across the street from where we met in kindergarten. I’m not sure what it says about Keene’s urban planning model to have a bar with a lot of “atmosphere” across the street from a grade school. This may explain my fascination with pubs given my early exposure to same. We’d drifted apart after I moved out of the neighborhood after second grade but stayed in touch as we graduated high school in the same class. That was the last time I saw him until 2014 when we ran into each other during an earlier pub crawl. Its testimony to the enduring quality of friendship that we picked up the long neglected relationship as if the intervening 42 years hadn’t passed. Unfortunately that earlier meeting was all too short and I was hoping to fully catch up with him yesterday.

Keene Friend Was With Us As Well

We had moved to the sports bar, Scores, by the time he finished up his mowing duties and he joined us. We spent a lot of time volunteering where the four decades apart had been consumed and I got the full rundown on where his large family ended up. It was interesting that we both ended up with jobs in transportation. He’s led a fascinating life that took him a lot of places but eventually led him back home to Keene where he recently became a grandfather. I certainly envied him the return to Keene and it was so good he was available to join what I hope is my continuing tradition of hometown thunder runs. We did feel a little dated at Scores where the high school we all graduated from was hosting a 30th reunion for a class that was in kindergarten when we graduated. Time does have this annoying habit of passing ever more quickly.

Wife Eventually Showed Up

Scores emptied out late in the afternoon as they prepared to host something called Keene Idol – some local version of American Idol. Since we all shuddered at what that would entail and it didn’t look like Scores wanted us as part of the crowd we decamped back to Penuche’s. As soon as we entered we ran into yet another high school classmate. It was somehow appropriate that he was my closest friend from my earliest memories until kindergarten. We grew up three houses apart until ending up in separate classes. He’s had a rough run of late as his marriage fell apart and he was diagnosed with celiac disease which caused a dramatic weight loss.

Skinny Friend Joins us for Wheelock School Alumni Party

Although he was skinny and a little worse for the wear of his recent struggles he was still the same friend. He and my other friend were pool aficionados and were soon dominating the pool table while Keene Friend and I observed from afar. They both dragged me into a pool game even though I warned them I was worse that useless with a pool cue in my hands. Its testimony to just how much beer had been sacrificed at the altar of reuniting with old friends that I allowed this travesty to be perpetrated. I was teamed up with my skinny friend and thankfully he was a real whiz. My first shot I missed every ball on the table. By the time I my turn rolled around again my teammate had cleared the table of all the other balls except the eight ball.  The cue ball and the eight ball were perfectly lined up so that even someone with my abysmal talent level could handle it, or so I drunkenly thought. I confidently strode to the table and promptly sank both the cue ball and the eight ball, losing the game. It was humiliating enough but both my teammate and my other friend (on the other team) saw me lining up the shot and were rushing to intervene when I made the ill-fated shot. I retired in shame only buffered by my earlier protestations as to my lack of aptitude.

Ending the Day Outside at Margarita's With the Cantankerous One's Re-Emergence

As the sun was setting my wife rushed into the bar proclaiming she was very hungry since she had blown off lunch in her shopping efforts. She met my friends which completed the afternoon for me. We said goodbye to my friends and headed downtown for a Margarita’s dinner. My wife had just parked the car when Keene Friend made a rookie mistake and pointed out that a nearby kitchen store was having some sort of sale. My wife’s hunger magically disappeared as she made a bee line for the store. Keene Friend shook his head in shame realizing what he’d just done. She eventually made her way back down Main Street to join us for dinner outside on a perfect summer night as the ebb and flow of Keene walked by. Halfway through the meal none other than the Cantankerous Friend himself walked up to join us. He had been running around all day squiring his parents and had just broken free. He’s been incognito of late having spent the last month down in Alabama for some work related training. I’m sure some semi-permanent damage to our relations with the South was perpetrated during his Southern sojourn.

It was good to have him back in the fold though and he immediately reminded us what had been missing from our lives during his absence. Both Keene Friend and I had enough liquid fortification to withstand his withering assessments and truly enjoy his company.

It was a very good day as I reflected that I had reunited with my closest friends from my earliest age (skinny friend), early elementary school (the new grandfather), late elementary school (Cantankerous Friend), high school to present (Keene Friend). Looking back on these various friend from different eras I couldn’t help but reflect just how blessed I’ve been. I certainly was yesterday.

Once in A

My Wife and the Next Door Mafioso - Partners in Shopping Crimes

Yesterday’s blue moon did see something everyone I’ve worked with for the last ten years never thought to witness – my excellent boss and the political boss hobnobbing together at Brew City. They’ve been diametrically opposed to each other from almost the first moment they met. I was usually the guy caught betwixt them trying to keep some sort of peace. My excellent boss, as he is wont to do, became the bigger man and volunteered to host a going away social for the political boss as his days wind down. Of course we were going to gather at Brew City anyways to mark the First Friday of the Week but this provided an opportunity to bury a few hatchets.

Brew City Crew Last Night

Luckily none of the hatchets ended up in any of the totally exposed craniums.

I spent the entire day leading up to First Friday balancing a very focused wife creating invitations across my office while doing battle with them IT company once again. They’ve bumped me up a couple layers of authority and this guy wanted to take me to task for saying demeaning things about their product in a series of emails between us. I retorted that I wished he was as concerned about his non-functional product as he was about my salty language.

This meant I was more than ready for a serious amount of the elixir of the gods – otherwise known as Friday afternoon beer. I ran back to the house to pick up the wife who has started to warm up to the whole concept of First Friday – especially since there were more females from my work this time in which to conspire and cast aspersions against me. I think my intimidation factor takes a serious hit any time my wife is permitted to expound on the subject. Since I had my designated driver with me I more than partook of my usual amount of said elixir. I’m guessing the week weighed a lot heavier than I thought.

Political Boss and Excellent Boss in the Background

In a major shakeup of our Friday scenario my wife decided there would be no pizza and we would instead patronize the restaurant she had selected for the upcoming baby shower. I was left with 49% of the vote again since she had the car keys by this point (as if that was the only factor!). It ended up being a great idea. Val’s is a family restaurant in nearby Holden and reminded me a lot of Zorba’s; if Zorba’s underwent a serious upgrade in décor that is. The vibe was the same though as locals crowded the place and while they didn’t have pizza the rest of the fare more than made up for it. Val herself stopped by the table to converse with my wife about the shower.

Val's

Five minutes after leaving Val’s we were back home and I reinstituted another ancient Friday night tradition dating back to the 1980s with a more than slightly inebriated call to my sister in Rhode Island. Her sanity was preserved as I ended up talking with her answering machine. I’m trying to convince myself she wasn’t screening her calls, damn that caller ID! Festivities continue today with a thunder run up to Keene so my favorite Panamanian can do some more tax free baby shower shopping while I endeavor to kill some more brain cells.

My Fumbled Attempt at a Moon Shot Last Night

The moon made a dramatic sight last night. I got up for some middle aged maintenance in the middle of the night and found the entire neighborhood engulfed in semi-daylight. I can't remember seeing as bright a moon as last night's. Of course as soon as I fumbled my camera into operation the damned thing went behind a cloud and I was in mo mood to wait for it to emerge.