Elm City Libationary

I just returned from yet another thunder run up to my hometown and the most excellent company of the Keene Friend. This one wasn’t even my idea (honest!). My wife felt it had been too long since she enjoyed one of our quick visits up to Keene. I’m sure that the available tax free shopping had a little bit to do with it along with the company of Keene Friend.

The Two Keene Friends and the Best Bar Tender in Keene At Elm City Yesterday

Far be it from me to argue with whatever her motivation is/was because I can’t seem to spend enough time back “home”. I also had a gift certificate for the Elm City Brewery which had been burning a hole in my pocket ever since I received it for a birthday present from Keene Friend 2. That fine establishment and the best bar tender in Keene had been criminally neglected during our more recent adventures since the brewery isn’t the best place to include on a pub crawl itinerary.

Scores Later in the Day

Keene Friend and I were summarily dumped off at Elm City around 1:30 by my Favorite Panamanian as she made a bee line for shopping. It was a busy day at the brewery as Christmas shoppers swirled around. We lucked into seats at the bar ably administered to by the aforementioned bar tendress. She didn’t even need to ask what our order was and we settled down for an afternoon of football and beer. We made a net call out to Keene Friends to check on availability. The Cantankerous Find remained silent until late last night but Keene Friend 2 showed up to help spend his birthday present.

Wife and Checkout Girl

It was all too short an afternoon for everyone, except the bar tender probably, as it offered us the opportunity to solve the world’s problems with the assistance of Keene Kolsch. We finally looked at a clock only to learn it was nearing six pm and we had yet to hear from the mad shopper. She answered our call with an exasperated air until I pointed out the time. She squawked that she still had two stores left to pillage, including her favorite, TJ Maxx. In an effort to influence her thinking we told her we were pulling up stakes and moving downtown. The fresh air helped and our favorite sports bar was beckoned. We honored tradition and texted a photo of us from that field of honor to the Pittsburgh Friend.

Proof that She Left TJ Maxx

My wife always claims to be in the checkout line whenever we call for extraction and this declaration is always met with a certain amount of doubt by those of us waiting for her. Last night she texted selfies with both the checkout girl and from the parking lot to prove she did in fact leave and was enroute to our location. We eventually found her waiting for us across the street at Margarita’s.

At Margarita's With Soft Drinks

Margarita’s was uncharacteristically mobbed last night but emptied shortly after we walked in. I’m willing to opine that it had nothing to do with our arrival and more to do with the 8pm show starting at the Colonial Theater almost next door. At least that’s what I choose to believe. My wife was in for the shock of her life when we sat down and I ordered a soft drink instead of beer for our dinner. She took a picture to commemorate the momentous event. An afternoon of drinking the much more potent Elm City brews rather than my usual watered down light beer had everything to do with that decision.

So another thunder run is in the books and even Keene Friend’s college student neighbors were incapable of making enough noise to keep us awake after our respective efforts. Keene Friend was the perfect host as usual and it was so good spending yet another complete day in what will always be my home, surrounded by friends. I cannot close without a selection of today’s photos of the perfection currently working on her first moth out in too distant California. 

So Mom What's Going on in the Kitchen

This is More Fun

Already a Devastating Smile

Too Cute

   

Friday Pops

I threw a bit of a curve ball at Friday yesterday. Despite my absolute devotion to my usual Friday routine which has served me so well in the past I decided to change things up. Rumor has it that I missed my wife while she was on grandmother watch out in LaLa Land, just a rumor mind you. To welcome her home I made reservations for dinner in a downtown restaurant and then tickets to the Hanover Theater to see the Boston Pops holiday show. I think I may have underestimated how impressed she would be with the effort.

Wife With Chosen Attire

I did manage to sneak in a couple beers at Brew City for First Friday because, well, I didn’t have to abandon all of my Friday routines and that one always entails the most fun. . Cool thing I’m learning about the internet – you can make dinner reservations that way. (Okay – I know I’m hopelessly late to technology – stop snickering – I know who you are). I learned a valuable lesson in making dinner reservations in Worcester for Friday night – don’t wait until Friday morning. My wife has one restaurant she likes above all others but they only had tables available at 4pm and 9pm which wasn’t going to work. I emerged a hero from the effort when I received an email as I was departing Brew City that confirmed a dinner reservation at Leo’s Ristorante, which just happened to be a few door down from Brew City itself, although well-hidden back amongst some parochial school remnants.

At Leo's

I returned home to find my wife in full modeling mode as she tried on several dresses and sought out my opinion. I hadn’t had enough beer to fall into that trap. I will say that the dress she did end up with was stunning, of course that probably had more to do with the lady inside it.

Leo’s was a true delight. We hadn’t been there in several years but the food and service were excellent and the owner herself was wandering the floor insuring everybody stayed on their toes. There were the obligatory wandering Christmas carolers passing through soliciting donations for the needy, which was kind of cool.

Hanover Theater in Holiday Mode

Another valuable lesson I learned yesterday, do not take advantage of the offer of convenient parking when buying tickets to a show at the Hanover. It took me over twenty minutes to get from city hall to the parking structure, a distance I could easily throw a baseball. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who was duped into the parking tickets because the line stretched the entire length of Main Street. I eventually found a parking spot on the sixth floor of the structure and hurried down to the Hanover where I’d left my spectacularly attired Favorite Panamanian all the while dreading the eventual need to get out of the packed parking garage at show’s end.

As with anybody growing up in New England the Boston Pops enjoyed iconic status for me from the Arthur Fielder days through John Williams and eventually the current conductor Keith Lockhart. I’d never seen them in live concert but had seen dozens of their Christmas concerts on PBS, so this was a real treat for me. They didn’t disappoint.

View From Our Seats

There’s something special about a full orchestra seen live that can’t be replicated over the airwaves. All the little sounds in a song can be seen as the artists create them, it’s almost hypnotic to watch. The show immediately went for the heart strings and didn’t let go for more than two hours. All the familiar holiday songs were elevated by the Pops as well as the accompanying choir and standout soloist.

Lockhart at Work

We were a mixed crowd but the entire group was transported. A staid group of Worcesterites abandoned all hope of pretense and joined in singing Christmas carols together for the second half of the show. It wasn’t forced or even encouraged, it just happened. My favorite part of the show was the reading of Clement Clarke Moore’s classic poem, Twas the Night Before Christmas. The reading, done by none other than Mr. Fezziwig from an upcoming Christmas Carol play, was accompanied by the Pops in the background. I was sent back a number of years remembering the same poem being read by my grandfather, then my father, my mother and finally myself to my own children in a very drafty New Hampshire house on Christmas Eve.

I’m not the kind of guy who needs a lot of encouragement to get into the Christmas spirit but last night was Red Bull on steroids. I don’t think a single person left the theater without a smile on their face. Both my wife and I were wishing Merry Christmas to complete strangers even though I was dreading the garage exit.

Very Fun Date

That turned out to be no problem whatsoever as the higher floor occupants had the right of way exiting (I’m still never parking there again). A perfect ending to a perfect evening that only got better when we got home to the I-Pad summoning us to a FaceTime call with my granddaughter and her parents. (see pictures below to understand the depth of beauty we were exposed to) This was followed with a call to my sister, another well-known Christmas spirit junkie, where it was decided we would attend next year’s Boston Pops concert together. 

Grandpa's Taking me to that Concert Someday

I'll Just Hang out till Then

Mommy's a Great Pillow

Daddy Tries

Nighted

I felt the need to keep my daily movie streak intact so I snuck out from work a little early to catch a  late matinee of a movie I couldn’t drag my wife to kicking and screaming. I don’t think she fully appreciates the “subtle” humor of a Seth Rogen stoner comedy. The Night Before is a Christmas buddy movie where three friends gather each year on the night before Christmas. This year will be the last one as each ages away from the tradition. Rogen, along with Anthony Mackie and Joseph Gordon-Leavitt demonstrate some real chemistry as the three friends.

As with most of these type films not all the jokes land but enough of them do for the movie to be genuinely funny. There are the usual celebrity cameos including Rogen customary obsession with penis pictures and James Franco; so not the kind of holiday film you want to take the kids to. I think my wife actually may be on to something here. Gross out comedy but after a string of clear misses this one was a lot of fun; if for no other reason than to see the uber-Jew Rogen attending a midnight Christmas catholic mass.

The wife took time way from her busy pre-Christmas requirements to hang out with me last night. We watched another movie together, The Woman in Gold; yet another movie that establishes Helen Mirren as one of the great talents of this century. We were almost finished when my wife received the predictable phone call from one of her friends. With the movie paused I grew increasingly antsy as the conversation showed no sign of abating. After the call completed she was a little angry with me and said we would have paused if the call had been for me. I looked her straight in the eye and said “How long do you think I would be on the phone?”. That stopped her right in her tracks because she has no rival when it comes to telephonic verbosity. I think I may have actually won my first argument with her! It only took 33 years!

Proud Mom

Yesterday I was entirely remiss in not providing samples of the bevy of photos we received from California demonstrating the ongoing perfection that is my granddaughter.  I rectify that omission by providing two days’ worth of same today. Words are incapable of capturing the true essence and since each of the following is allegedly worth a thousand of those – I’ll let them do the talking.

High Five Dad! Great Sweater!

California, Secrets and Scudder Goodbye

When my daughter and Wingman moved out to California I thought I only had to worry about earthquakes, wildfires, mudslides, gang violence, and the whole state falling into the Pacific Ocean theory. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about mass shootings, call it naiveté. The San Bernardino massacre took place about sixty miles east of them but it still had me anxious when the news first broke. The motivations behind the attack are still murky but the shooters were Islamic and initial reports say the husband was born here while the wife came from Saudi Arabia, which is where they were married. I know the administration for strategic reasons will try to downplay the Saudi connection but how many more people have to die before we acknowledge them as the sun source of Sunni terrorism.  You can trace all of the recent attacks and ISIS itself back to the flawed edicts of Saudi religious leaders. It sounds the like this was a case of the American gun culture combined with radical Islam – talk about a worst case scenario.  

This time of year the cinema gets flooded with movies of both the blockbuster and Oscar trolling variety. My wife and I took in The Secret in their Eyes which is a re-make of an eminently superior Argentinian film which I had forgotten I’d seen until reminded by my daughter later. The plot doesn’t translate well to an American milieu. Julia Roberts is staggeringly good and definitely discards the glam for her role as the mother of a murdered daughter. Chiwetel Ejiofor is usually very good but he flails around a little too much here, clearly fighting above his weight with Roberts and achieving zero chemistry with Nicole Kidman. I lay the blame, as I usually do with former Mrs. Cruise, with Kidman. She was in her ice princess mode which robbed the film of the “denied love affair” between Ejiofor’s character and her which was so poignant in the Argentinian movie.

They make a serious mistake by making the murder victim the daughter of one of the law enforcement agents. The preposterous concept that other agents would protect the murderer just doesn’t work – totally unbelievable. They also minimize the importance of the title and what that meant to the investigator. I really looked forward to this movie but it falls flat which is a searing indictment of the filmmakers when they’re blessed with this quality in their cast.

Cuteness Personified!

Of course this wouldn’t be a Frail Deeds Dancing post if I didn’t pause to acknowledge the superb character and peerless beauty of my granddaughter who is now officially three weeks old. I forgot to download the daily batch of photos this morning so you’ll have to make do with this one which includes yet another outfit we bought during my wife’s shopping foray on my second day in LaLa Land.

Finally I’m saying goodbye a Mathew Scudder as I finished the last of the currently published novels by the incomparable Lawrence Block with A Drop of the Hard Stuff. I have a very real habit of thinking of my literary heroes as friends so when I finish the last works they appear in I feel I’ve lost a friend; at least for a while. Block still fairly prolific so I can hope Scudder will return at some point in the future but now I have to wait (not my strong suit) instead of having another one waiting for me. I’m weaning myself off the addiction by reading a collection of Scudder short stories collected into book. I also completed the list of locations I’m going to make a pilgrimage to at some point next year. Some are fictional while others do exist. New York City and the fringe of Hell’s Kitchen were vibrant characters in all Scudder novels and I feel a need to go there if for no other reason than to say I did. The locations include: Paris Green Restaurant, Armstrong’s, the Morning Star Diner, St Paul’s Church, the Flame Diner, Parc Vendome, the hotel across street, Grogan’s, Elaine’s shop, as well as a few others.

A Drop of the Hard Stuff is another flashback story, set in the first year of Scudder’s sobriety. A childhood friend who became a career criminal reconnects with Matt through AA and is killed shortly thereafter. Scudder’s sense of justice impels him along a path towards the killer who solves problems by removing the person causing the problem. When the killer becomes aware of Scudder he is classified as a problem therein leading to a typical Block concluding, grayish confrontation. I’m going to miss Matt, a lot, and I’ll leave you with some of his words from  A Drop of the Hard Stuff:

I was a problem for him. And I knew what solution he’d look for. When your only tool is hammer, they say, then every problem looks like a nail. I lay there in the darkness and wondered if I was afraid. I decided I was, but not of dying, not exactly. If I’d died a year ago, if I’d died drunk, that would have been as awful an ending as my life could have had. But I’d stayed sober for a year, and if I didn’t feel like celebrating, that didn’t mean I didn’t cherish the accomplishment. And if I died now, well, nobody could take that away from me. Cold comfort, I suppose, but better than no comfort at all. What I was afraid of, I realized, was that there was something I could do about this, and that I wouldn’t be able to figure it out.

A New Creed

Hollywood found a new way to make me feel old last night. I was in college when the first (and best) Rocky film came out. Last night we went to see the newest addition to the seemingly endless saga, Creed. If this is the last (not a safe bet) then the series started and ended with absolute gems. The aging part was seeing Rocky as a senior citizen weighed down by life and the loss of everyone close to him. Michael B. Jordan continues his streak of amazing performances and pulls off the cocky youngster without being annoying.

Stallone has become such a caricature of himself with his film roles that you can forget what a good actor he is capable of being. The best parts of the movie were the scenes between Jordan and Stallone, just permeated with realistic emotion. Jordan plays the illegitimate son of Rocky’s long dead friend/rival Apollo Creed. He seeks out Rocky to become a fighter while trying to dodge riding on his father’s coattails. It’s not easy being the son of a great man and the director shows a deft touch in not allowing that to become a distraction. He allows that the audience is intelligent enough to figure that out. The fight scenes were every bit as realistic and exciting as even the bad Rocky movies produced. I had to calm my wife down at one point reminding her it was just a movie and not to worry about the damage being inflicted. I’m not doing justice to this film – it soars, one of the best of the year. It was nice to see the lovable character of Rocky granted some peace in later life; especially handing off to such an exciting replacement in Jordan. Go see this flick.

We were lucky enough to have the next door mafiosos along with us on a double date night for the movie. They’re a lot of fun to hang out with and this allowed my counterpart and I to compare notes on the shopping depredations of our respective spouses. They are fellow enablers in that area. We shared a lot of laughs after the movie and he was saying he felt like getting into a gym and training on a speed bag. I think his wife was a little nervous with his declaration of field expedient training methods; too funny.

Yet another reason to lift spirits on a dreary cold December (Egad! – Already?!) day was the Red Sox turning up the heat in the hot stove league. They signed what they have needed ever since they let Jon Lester leave with a bona fide ace in David Price. I’ve always liked his makeup and this means at least five-six more wins since we won’t have to face him. He’s shown he can pitch in the toughest division in baseball and won’t be intimidated by the big stage or high expectations. I really like this team, but don’t I always, and it’s so much easier in December than the last couple of Octobers.

Cali-Daughter with Rarely Sleeping Progeny

Finally the very best reason to be elated as winter descends is a smallish bundle of joy out in California (you had to know this was coming). The First Blog Reader is experiencing a growth spurt which means more work for the new mom and dad along with decidedly less sleep. Each morning I come down to find some new pictures of my incredibly beautiful granddaughter waiting for me. It’s important to start your day off right and short of holding her myself these are close enough for the nonce. 

Wingman at his Post

Staring Contest with Mom

Grandpa - Let's Talk About Your Descriptions of Me

You're Right Though - I'm Pretty Cool

Season Encroaching and Backbone Re-Visited

The first day back to work after the substantial amount of fun I overindulged in over the Thanksgiving holiday was bound to be underwhelming. It was. I was buoyed by Christmas carols which I can no listen to without feeling guilty for having been drawn in too early. The Favorite Panamanian also helped with her Christmas decorating splurge continuing unabated at the house. We have way, way too many decorations for the much smaller house we’re now in. I’m not sure she considers that a good thinking. All the message signs in the kitchen have been replaced with their Christmas counterparts, some I’d never seen before, although I was assured that we’ve had them “for years”.

The Kitchen Sign Board in Holiday Mode

The biggest buoy though continues to be the existence of the First Blog Reader out in distant California. I’m more than a little saddened at having to miss her first Christmas but that only means her second will be something to remember for the ages. My Cali-Daughter continues to send a daily batch of photos of the littlest miracle and I would be entirely remiss if I didn’t continue to share some of them with you. You will undoubtedly recognize through this convincing photographic evidence that I may have even underestimated her quality. I am madly in love.

Yeah, I'm Cool!

Let's Talk Dad

Already Mastering the Front Leaning Rest Position

We received a quick update from the builders down in Panama yesterday as well. They reported the foundations have all been laid and the building is about to start rising. I’ll be down in Panama in February and will trek up the beach to check it out.

Aerial View of Foundations, Note Closeness of Pacific Coast Beach in Upper Left Corner

Ground Level View

Finally, I ran across the following words attributed to the latest Sergeant Major of the Army, Daniel Dailey. It reminded me of what I miss most about being in the Army, getting to hang around Non-Commissioned Officers. The Army NCOs are truly the backbone of the Army and what separates our military from most of the rest of the world in terms of competence. They are simply the best in the world. I considered it a privilege to learn from them every single day I was in the Army no matter what rank I held. SMA Dailey’s words are great examples of why and would be great advice for most middle managers in the civilian world as well. So yes, I do miss wearing a uniform every now and then. 

Dailey's top 10 to SGMs, in his own words:

No. 1. Yelling doesn’t make you skinny. PT does. If you’re not out there saluting the flag every morning at 6:30, you can automatically assume your soldiers are not. Soldiers don’t care if you’re in first place. They just want to see you out there. This is a team sport. PT might not be the most important thing you do daily but it is the most important thing you do every day in the United States Army. The bottom line is, wars are won between 6:30 and 9.

No. 2. Think about what you’re going to say before you say it.  I’ve never regretted taking the distinct opportunity to keep my mouth shut. You’re the sergeant major. People are going to listen to you. By all means, if you have something important or something informative to add to the discussion, then say it. But don’t just talk so people can hear you. For goodness sake, you’re embarrassing the rest of us. Sit down and listen. Sometimes you might just learn something.

No. 3. If you find yourself having to remind everyone all of the time that you’re the sergeant major and you’re in charge, you’re probably not. That one’s pretty self-explanatory.

No. 4.You have to work very hard at being more informed and less emotional. Sergeants major, I’ll put it in simple terms: Nobody likes a dumb loudmouth. They don’t. Take the time to do the research. Learn how to be brief. Listen to people, and give everyone the time of day. Everyone makes mistakes, even sergeants major, and you will make less of them if you have time to be more informed.

No. 5.If you can’t have fun every day, then you need to go home. You are the morale officer. You don’t have to be everyone’s friend, but you do have to be positive all the time. The sergeant major is the one everyone looks to when it’s cold, when it’s hot, when it’s raining, or things are just going south. Your job is to keep the unit together. That’s why you’re there. The first place they will look when things go bad is you, and they will watch your reaction.

No. 6. Don’t be the feared leader. It doesn’t work.  If soldiers run the other way when you show up, that’s absolutely not cool.  Most leaders who yell all the time, they’re in fact hiding behind their inability to effectively lead.  Soldiers and leaders should be seeking you, looking for your guidance, asking you to be their mentors on their Army career track, not posting jokes about you on the 'Dufflebag blog'. That’s not cool. Funny, but it’s not cool.

No. 7. Don’t do anything — and I mean anything — negative over email. You have to call them. Go see them in person. Email’s just a tool. It’s not a substitute for leadership. It’s also permanent. You’ve all heard it. Once you hit ‘send,’ it’s official, and you can never bring it back. Automatically assume that whatever you write on email will be on the cover of the Army Times and all over Facebook by the end of the week. Trust me, I know this personally.

No. 8. It’s OK to be nervous. All of us are. This happens to be my favorite. It came from my mother. My mom always used to tell me that if you’re not nervous on the first day of school, then you’re either not telling the truth, you either don’t care, or you’re just plain stupid. [Being nervous] makes you try harder. That’s what makes you care more. Once that feeling is gone, once you feel like you have everything figured out, it’s time to go home, because the care stops. Don’t do this alone. You need a battle buddy. You need someone you can call, a mentor you can confide in. Don’t make the same mistakes someone else has made. Those are the dumb mistakes. Don’t do this alone.

No. 9. If your own justification for being an expert in everything you do is your 28 years of military experience, then it’s time to fill out your 4187 [form requesting personnel action] and end your military experience. Not everything gets better with age, sergeants major. You have to work at it every day. Remember, you are the walking textbook. You are the information portal. Take the time to keep yourself relevant.

No. 10. Never forget that you're just a soldier. That’s all you are. No better than any other, but just one of them.  You may get paid a little more, but when the time comes, your job is to treat them all fair, take care of them as if they were your own children, and expect no more from them of that of which you expect from yourself.