Red Sox Win World Series again..finally

By finally, I refer to watching baseball consistently for a month. It was like a second job, in a good way though...

The above picture was what I saw in front of me every night: a TV in front of me and a dog (Ginny) in the general vicinity. Darla (other dog) goes to bed promptly every night at 9:32 pm. Ginny, however, is the faithful Red Sox fan.

The picture below is a shadow caused by the sun shining through our kitchen window early Sunday morning. It reminds me of special effects in images before special effects existed. Just a neat photo..no big whoop.

Boston in the movies and real life

So I (Matt) know I’ve written about my cousin being in a movie that just came out (Gone Baby Gone), numerous times. We saw it on Saturday. It's good.

I am done selling the movie though I still have a personal interest it. Why? The takes place in the two neighborhoods where my mother grew up: South Boston and Dorchester. I now believe my interest has less to do with the fact that a cousin is an actor in the movie, and more to do with my own childhood experiences. I didn’t grow up in these neighborhoods, but they are the places I spent the majority of childhood, outside of the town where I grew up (until age 14). Before today, I hadn’t really thought of this movie (and other movies about South Boston) in terms of my own experience. After reading a review of the movie, it got me thinking. Mainly, the following excerpt did:

“It's what you don't choose in life that make you who you are." He goes on to give examples like family, or where you were born, while the camera sweeps across the hardened blue-collar streets of Dorchester, Mass., eventually landing smack in the middle of a community grieving the disappearance of a little girl who was kidnapped from her bed. Those of us on the outside looking in would describe these people as "white trash" -- the kind of folks that made Jerry Springer a household name -- but to Patrick, this is home. These are the people he grew up with, these are the people he'll grow old with, and these are the people he'll go out of his way to protect.”

I won’t debate movie inferences on how these to supposedly rough neighborhoods are portrayed. I can share my experiences as a young boy in the 1970's.

I remember these neighborhoods as a child, filled with extended family. There were family members everywhere, all the time... cousins, uncles, aunts, you name it…..stopping in saying hello and leaving. I remember men in brown leather jackets with polyester collars sticking out. I remember the smell of cigarettes in enormous Cadillacs with the first automatic windows I had ever seen. To this day, when I get into a car that smells of a certain brand of cigarette, I feel good for no reason.

I remember ancient uncles and aunts looking upon me as a young child and saying “He-ah’s a dollah Methew, go getcha self an ice cream.” If I had a dollar for every dollar I was given to go get an ice cream.

The homes contained furniture and a certain familiar smell of the past. They reminded me of what it must have been like to live in Boston in the 1940’s: older, ornate, wooden furniture and giant stair cases. Upon arriving, the first thing my grandmother would do would demand a hug. During the hug, she would say “ooooooh, that’s a gooood boy.” Then, she would make me eat. Even if I wasn’t’ hungry, refusing food was not an option.

I remember the same question over and over again: "Methew, ah you studying hahhd in school? Ah you doin yah homework?" My answers would of course be ‘yes’ and ‘yes’ while the truth was ‘no’ and ‘no.’ I didn’t study and do homework (much), but this doesn’t mean I wasn’t paying attention.

I remember smiles, hugs, pats on the back, good-natured interrogations, listening to advice, listening to everything…activity and chatter.

Outside of these places, Kid World was very different. Kid World (minus any family, nuclear or extended) in a small, quiet town was a very scary place, while in Extended Family World (the supposedly “rough” South Boston and Dorchester) I felt protected and safe.

There were first communions, confirmations, weddings and funerals. All of them at St. Brendan’s in Dorchester. During these occasions, whether in sadness or celebration, the sense of family was always there. When my grandmother died at 99 (in 2005), my Uncle Jimmy (who is a Firefighter in South Boston) said that it was an end of an era. He was right, but whatever intangible family thing that I cannot describe here, did not end.

From the memories mentioned above, jump almost 30 years later. During the most tragic event that my immediate family (Maryland) ever experienced, the South Boston and Dorchester people got up and left the places they never seem to leave.. and came here to Maryland for support. After a funeral, there was the same chatter that I remember as a child....the same questions..the same feeling. Next time, I am sure the reason for receiving these guests will be to celebrate something, rather than mourn.

The way you learn about family helps you learn abut relationships and friendships. I'm no wise old sage (better looking than this guy though), but I can give examples. I still speak with my oldest friend (since 8 years old) on a regular basis. I recently had lunch with the first friend I made when my family moved to Maryland ( in 1986). I will be starting a new job soon, thanks to the first friend I made in college (in 1990). So, I don't really care if a movie paints a broad brush in how it portrays two neighborhoods in Boston. I already know.

Smooth as a Baby's

There's no purposeful theme with this post from the most recent. My coworker sent me the link to this video. I watched it and was amused. The thirty-three second point is my favorite part.

I know this is an adverstisement, but it doesn't matter.

Fight For Kisses //// www.ffk-wilkinson.com
envoyé par killafather

This Made Me laugh

Most internet videos are boe-reeng.

This one is the first one in awhile that actually made me (Matt) laugh:

Life out Left

It's been 6 days and I can't seem to make my body behave. My superior body clock can neither be trained nor tricked. I usually wake up around 6:30 am when I'm at home, which is 3:30 am when I happen to be in CA (fortunately not very often).

After days of negotiations, we've split the difference and I have been awarded custody of one more hour of sleep and so I'm waking up about 4:45 am for the last week. When you're inside a small room with no windows for hours of endless training, unnatural light beaming down on you like it's from the mothership, the early mornings end up wearing on you.

Fortunately, I planned to treat myself to a Saturday in Napa Valley. I'd like to say I've earned it but I will never again make a week of instrument training prerequisite to a lovely weekend in Wine Country!

Here's how the Saturday went: on bike, 25 miles of Napa Valley in made-to-order weather!Looks a little familiar, right?

Miss you, husband!

Aimee's view from training in California

I bothered her about sending me a pic of where she is training (Hercules, CA near San Fran), since she said it was on the water.

Not bad, wife! Your dogs miss you...they told me this morning. Yes, I can speak to dogs.

Gone Baby Gone in the Movies next week.

(Matt)

The movies, you say? Yes, I say.

Why?

Because my cousin (2nd) wil be in a big whoozamahoo movie, by Ben Affleck. I posted about it before, but now the movie is actually coming into the Theatre.

I just googled him (my cousin, not Ben Affleck..that's awkward) and found the following reference. Remember, my mother's family is from the neighborhoods featured in the movie, just like The New Kids On The Block, Aimee's favorite (when she was 10 years old). Slaine is my cousin's 'Hollywood' name.

"Given novelist David Lehane's Dorchester roots and Affleck's' previous immersion in the tough streets of Southie in Good Will Hunting, a sense of place means much to this film's success. To the Europeans who have complained that the Dot Rat (Dorchesterite) accents are hard to understand, Affleck has replied, "This is Boston's revenge for [Guy Ritchie's Cockney and Gypsy-babbling] Snatch." Local rapper Dickie Skinz (whose Sik Pup label just released a Red Sox-themed single in time for the playoffs) is bested only by another local rapper, Slaine, in street authenticity."

Did you see that? Street Authenticity. That's just plain 'off thuh hook'. There's also a new trailer. Check it before you wreck it (like that one? authentic?):

The press is also getting into it:

MSNBC

USA Today

So make sure you see it. I am not sure how much of a role he has but he is still seen in the trailer above, so Good For You George, I mean Slaine!

Keepin It Real In the Burbs,

-EMRO-

Warm Fall Weekend Photos

ot much, in terms of excitement. We went to Taste of Bethesda . On Sunday, we celebrated my (Matt's) father's birthday.

I took pics with my cell phone. Yes, cell phone pics are not the best.

Giant Paella

Aimee catching flies, I mean ordering ice cream.

My (Matt's) Dad's birthday party at my brother Jhan's (pronounced John) house.

Meadow in front of Jhan's house.

Birthday Graveyard: A Memorial

Most people love their own birthday. I mean you are soooo special- it's your day, right. You and the 18 million other people that sing "Happy Birthday" each day. (It's true, I Wiki'd it)

I have a friend, you may know her, who is special everyday but who happens to loathe her birthday. I think it may have something to do with the psychology of aversion. See, since I've known her, Sandy has had the worst luck on her birthday. One year her purse was stolen while we were out celebrating (along with Julie's). One year there was a huge relationship disaster that was created by a jealous 'friend' all but destroying a loving friendship. One year a huge car crash shut down 95 and we weren't able to make our party destination (at least she had a better day than those folks!). . . and various other mishaps have caused her to come to rue the day that is set aside for celebration.

I have decided that this year we will note the memories of bad birthdays past and bury them forever. This will allow her to move on and again enjoy her birthday!

Happy Birthday, Sandy. Who loves ya, baby?!
~Aimee

Attention Citizens of France and Chile!

Do you know the saying "Don't work for your money. Make your money work for you?" It's kind of silly. But true. Well, I though about it. Why not make our blog work a little?

Now, you ask: What the heck does this have to do with the title of this post? Be patient friend, amigo, ami.

For French People:

Seine River

Before I ask your help: I know it may be a bit presumptious to assume that people from France actually read our blog, since...well.....not many people read our blog. I know of at least one: our friend Guillaume. So for example, if I have a question about France, maybe Guillaume can contact his friends Maurice, Remy, and Colette. One of them may be able to help. This, mon ami, is the power of the Internet. The above example is fictitious. I just chose some French first names. I don't know if Guillaume, who is a real person, has friends with the names above (fake people).

Le Rasion: My parents will celebrate their 45 wedding anniversary next year. On that exact day, they will board a River Cruise in Paris and travel the Seine to reach Le Havre.

Comment excitant, right?

So, maybe you are familiar with some of the stops on their itinerary (click to view). Maybe you, as a citizen of France, may see one of the places my parents will visit and say:

Mon dieu, my uncle Jean Luc lives in Rouen. He tells me often of a small store where they sell excellent fromage! The store is run by an angry old man named Benoit who will spit at you unless you look at him with one eye only. It is pure Magic!

Basically, what I am asking for, Dear Habitantes Du France, is advice that I can pass along to my parents. Vincent can vouch for my parents as they are good folk who hold no prejudices against your people! So, please post your comments. I am interested in your thoughts.

For People who live in CHILE or Chileans.

Frutillar Chile

Valle Del Elqui, Chile

My mother, sister and brother will all be travelling to Chile (again for my Mom) this December. My mother is having trouble to decide from two places to visit: La Serena or The Lake Region.

La Serena:

Pros: Close to Santiago, nice beach area, nicer weather, close to Valle Del Elqui where they make Pisco and the location of Gabriel Mistral's home/museum.

Cons: Maybe not as interesting as the Lake Region.

Lake Region:

Pros: Beautiful lakes, including Lago De Todo De Los Santos. Frutillar (small German-looking village). Valdivia, which is an aweseome city on a River. Puerto Montt -aweseome fishing city/village.

Cons: Weather not as nice. Far from Santiago. Colder.

I am leaning towards La Serena but would like to know your thoughts. Please feel free to comment.

Make the blog work, Citizens of Earth....!

Baseball Play Offs. GO Red Sox

I don't want to just limit this post to how I am a life long Red Sox fan, blah blah blah. Snore, yawn, stretch, pfffrrt. The "I am more of a fan than the other guy" got old in 1987.

Aimee also likes baseball. She is a big Houston Astros fan. Her Dad has season tickets and they text eachother while he's at the games (for updates). She knows all about the players and is the only one of either of us who actually WENT a the WORLD SERIES game. Nice!

The Astros are out and the Red Sox are in. Alas, Houston. Maybe next year. As for this year, I am hopeful. I don't wear my fandom on my sleeve, but I can say that have always been a one......and will always be.

I am lucky that my wife likes baseball. Because on the day we were married it was the first game of the Red Sox playing in the WORLD SERIES since 1986 and their first chance to win since 1918. She didn't mind so much that the GAME was on the TV DURING the reception! BTW, the Red Sox finally won..while we were on our Honeymoon. I watched the games.

That's me and my creepy older brother during the wedding reception with the Red Sox in the background.

Thanks Wife....

The most ridiculous Soap Opera scene you will ever see

What you are about to see, if you choose to do so, is a scene from an actual Soap Opera. It is not a parody. I saw this scene on the day it aired. I think it was a holiday, because there is no other reason why I would be home during the day, Monday through Friday.

When I saw Aimee after watching it, I failed in describing how ridiculous it was. It went somethign like this:

(Matt to Aimee) Just watched this Soap named Passions (laughing, trying to get out words)..There was some type of half man/half woman in a mask, speaking in an odd voice, trying to seduce the leading man. Then the whole scene goes into a dream sequence and they start ballroom dancing..

It went something like that. My favorite reference in the scene is the one by the 'thing' talking about "the Butterflies." The show is no longer on the NBC Network. Alas.

Aimee has never seen this scene, so she can see it here if she wants. At least she'll know what I was talking about. Then she'll say "What inspired you to put that on our blog? What is wrong with you?"

Every Day is A Gift: Listen to the Professor

I may be a Professor of 'keepin it Real' but the title of this post doesn't not refer to me (Matt).

Aimee and I were watching Good Morning America this morning and learned about a tragic but inspiring and touching story. The fella in the pic above is a professor at Carnegie Mellon. He has three kids, a loving wife, a great life...but he's got six months left to live. He gave a good-bye speech to his University, friends, and family. The speech was reported in the Wall Street Journal, then on GMA.

I won't analyze the story or give you my take. You can watch what we watched by clicking HERE. You may have to wait-out a commercial but it's worth it.

After Tony Soprano survived getting shot, he believed every day is a gift. The professor above basically said the same thing, among a lot of other things. I don't think the idea is lost on Aimee or me.

Not forgetting the importance of the Professor's message, how about a GIFT for YOU on this DAY? The professor referenced growing up and realizing one's dreams. The following video is not a unfulfilled dream of mine, but it sure seems that if it weren't actually real, a person could wake up one morning and say the following:

I just had the strangest dream. I dreamnt about some Rock group whos members all wore the same funny-looking wig, consisting of some type of over-blown 1950's Hair Do. The group was from Finland, but were playing American Southern Rock: a very unique version of Lynard Skynard's Sweet Home Alabama. The craziest thing about this dream is that the Rock group was being backed up by over a hundred members of the Former Soviet Union's Red Army Choir, incluing percussion instruments. I wish I could explain more. What a weird, but great dream...

Ohhhh, but was it? Lucky for you, reader, it is real. One thing I think I will do before I die is perfect the dance moves of the guy in the image below. You see a bit of the moves about half way through the video.

If you like the song (Sweet Home Alabama), you must watch. I think it's awesome. That's just me though. Anyway, enjoy your day...enjoy as many as you can.

Click on the image to see the video.

My parents Golden Child is a dog....really.

(by Matt)

It's great when a sibling achieves a milestone which makes your parent's proud. What happens when that sibling is a DOG?

Chico. Chico Chico Chico. Special little Chico.

My mother sent an email with the following text and a photo (above):

"Chico got his certification for Therapy dog and I thought I'd brag! He and I will probably be visiting a battered women's shelter and also a group of developmentally disabled young adults."

Is he going to cure Cancer as well? What will he be doing next week....teaching Calligraphy to homeless Veterans? Has Chico actually discovered the ability to walk on water?

One would think that Chico would be the sole focus of an empty-nested, quiet home. Au Contraire...my parents’ home is not a quiet bastion of peacefulness. ... Chico is one of THREE dogs in my parents’ house. Not only does Chico outshine his human siblings, he gets to rub his greatness in the face of two OTHER dogs.

I wouldn't be surprised if I heard a knock on our door from their other dogs, with a bottle of Scotch in hand and ready to share their tale of woe. What about the human children? They raised SEVEN.

I cannot say I am above any type of dog insanity because I implored Aimee to get a second dog..no, make that second puppy, at the same time...while living in a one bedroom apartment. So, I don't need therapy to explain my crazed affinity for dogs for obvious reasons.

Kidding aside, Chico actually IS a Golden Child. He looks at you like you are the only person that has ever mattered in the history of Earth and the remaining planets. He has that Bill Clinton-I care about you-you matter-btw, I am a rock star way of looking at you. So, here's to you Chico....

Separated at Birth? Doppelganger?

With reference to Matt's affinity for the Thank God I'm a Country Boy below. . .

Did John Denver moonlight as Cousin Oliver, aka "the kid who killed the Brady Bunch" ?

We went to a Chilean Festival on Sunday

So, Aimee and I met up with Dave and Julie and went to a Chilean Festival on Sunday in Bethesda. Yesterday (9/18) was Chilean Independence Day.

We had a great time and ate a lot of food, including Pastel De Choclo and Empanadas. Pastel De Choclo is a Chilean dish that is reaaaally goohhood. We actually brought some home and ate it last night for dinner. I told Aimee that if she learned how to make it that I would marry her. Har har har, whatever.

Later on, my parents and sister (Andrea) showed up with one of their dogs, Chico (named Chico, because his breed is Cuban). My mom, Andrea, and brother Jhan (pronounced John) are going back to Chile in December. This is my mom's second trip to Chile in a year. The first one was great and I hope they have as much fun as we did last year.

From Sunday:

Chilean folkloric singing group

The National Dance: La Cueca. They invited people from the crowd to join. What is the U.S. National Dance? Is is The Worm?

Food, good to eat.

Priests.

Aimee "cannot" find her camera

So, I asked Aimee to tell me where the digital camera is located, so that I may download photos from the event we went to yesterday. There were challenges involved in the search for the camera.

Since I don't have the photos, I thought I'd share a musical moment I experienced while watching TV on Saturday. I got caught up in a PBS special dedicated to the life of John Denver. John Denver was internationally known in the 1970's. Even though he looked like a Muppet, he could put his @$$ into a song.

Anyway, he did a duet with the Great Johnny Cash. I liked it so here it is for you. I leave you with a Misty taste of moonshine and a teardrop in my eye. Not really..that was just an excuse to steal some of the song's lyrics.

A scientific talk about happiness by a Smart Guy

(By Matt)

The following video managed to maintain my attention, which is a huge deal because I have problems paying attention to anything except the sensations of 'very hot/very cold' or 'Ouch, this physically hurts' or 'I am hungry' or 'I think I have to poop.'

The guy in the video is Retarded Smart: so smart that it's just Retarded to even conceive his level of intelligence. Luckily for me, I don't have his burden. What I do have is a video of him explaining the science of happiness.

He is a Harvard professor. I have a story about me at Harvard on a wintery weekend that involves ridiculousness, but since my parents read this blog and I may run for President one day, I'll have to remain silent on this. I'm already a Public Figure, so it wouldn't be a good idea anyway.


The minumum thing you can learn from this video is that if you win the lottery, you will be no more happier a year later than the person who, by accident, becomes a parapalegic (a year later). He didn't say anything about parapalegic lottery winners so don't ask.

What I gathered from the video: Balance is important and it's all relative.

In Remembrance: 9/11/01

(By Aimee)

9/11 Memorial on Staten Island
This is difficult. It is every year. Everyone has a story-some are more stinging and tragic than others. I'd like to think of mine as one of the best things that ever happened to me on one of the worst days of my life. It was 6 years ago but when I remember it, it's as if it was 6 minutes ago.

I'd prefer not to go into the details of the morning. It's the afternoon and the evening afterwards that the story really began for me.

After a morning of running from one of the falling towers, finding shelter in the Staten Island Ferry Station, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge with innumerable others, I made my way through Brooklyn- some times on foot and a bit by train- to a long line for an Express bus headed to Staten Island. I had no idea exactly where it was going or really even where Staten Island was. I just wanted to get on it and get away from the burning tip of Manhattan.

I was with my friend Christina in a line full of strangers but we were actually alone. We were able to make it on the bus-we had no idea if there would be another or even if the Verrazano Bridge would be allowing traffic. We stood in the aisle, holding on the backs of seats for balance, looking to each other for some sort of idea of what the setting sun was going to bring (we had nowhere to go).

The looks on people's faces were of confusion, profound sadness and weariness. As Christina and I were talking about what we were going to do, we were offered a ride by a man. We looked at each other with uncertainty and saw a similar look of skepticism from a woman ahead of us to her husband. Immediately she stepped in.

"Here, use my phone. You can call a hotel on Staten Island so you'll have a place to stay tonight." I don't know what it was but I instantly felt a sense of relief in her warm tone. We got off at the stop with the couple and they kindly offered to take us to the best hotel on Staten Island. After finding a 3 page waiting list at the hotel and going from one hotel to the next (remember the 'No-Tell Motel'?!), almost 3 hours later they said, 'you're coming home with us!!' Relieved and thankful, we accepted.

Let me introduce you to our saviours of the day: Tommy and Loretta O'Connor. That day they were strangers, today they are family. You see, not only did they take me in that day but once I moved to NYC they took me into their home- I lived with them for a month or so! They folded me into their social lives-their friends and family became my friends and family. Kathy and Peter, Mrs. Molfino, the O'Connors-everyone made such a poweful impact on me.

As we remember that day of such tragedy, I also remember it as a day of great hope and love. I say all this to say something to Tom and Loretta: THANK YOU. Thank you for opening your home and your lives to me. I had such a rich experience with you. You truely changed the course of my life!

As this day rolls around each year, there is a flood of mixed memories. But most of all what resonates with me is the kind, selflessness of a couple of strangers. I will always be thankful to you for this!!

Sonic Cheetahs of Death invade Poolesville Maryland

Allow me, Matt, to explain.

Poolesville: This past Saturday was Poolesville Day. Poolesville is a small secluded town that is located relatively near us in Montgomery County Maryland. Unlike where we live, Poolesville has retained it's Maryland 'country charm.' Each year, the town has Poolesville Day. The whole town shows up for this festival. They close off the streets, have a parade, sell food, listen to music, ride horses, throw pies in peoples faces and just plain celebrate.

Now, the reason for our visit to Poolesville Day:

The Sonice Cheetahs of Death: This is a band that includes one of my former housemates and current friends, Scott. Aimee and I are friends with Scott and his wife, Alex.

Anyway, back to the Sonic Cheetahs of Death. They were great. Aimee and I agreed to leave after we listened to a couple of songs since it was so darn hot outside.... but we enjoyed the music so much, we stayed through most of their set.

Poolesville Day and The Sonic Cheetahs of Death may not be a match made in heaven since one is a country town's day celebration and the other an Indie Rock band. Plus, the band was in the earliest slot of the day at 11 am, which doesn't exactly make the situation ripe for a big crowd. Though this is true, the few folks who did sit and enjoy the music didn't seem to care about that. And the band didn't seem to care about their time slot and the 'who' or how many people were watching. They just played their great music and the people listened and enjoyed. The way it should be.

Now, a few pics......

Alpacas. No, not llamas. Google it.

The center of Poolesville

Aimee in Poolesville

Matt in Poolesville


The Sonic Cheetahs and ten-year old girl soccer player fans.

Hot Rod.


Les Cheetahs

Scott Carpenter, a Groovin Cheetah

The Concert Venue