Ticket Stubs

I am a big sports fan and this week has been a treat.

The Celtics just finished a tremendous first round series with a ten point win last night. Every aspect of the series had a spectacular nature. Ben Gordon made shot after shot. Ray Allen, Paul Pierce, and Brian Scalabrine of all people, were clutch. A steal at the end of Game six by Joakim Noah and a block or two by Derrick Rose were among some of the finest plays I have ever seen made against the Celtics in a playoff series. It was edge of your seat stuff all the way through.

I have seen some historic games and been able to attend some memorable sports occasions. In September of 1978 I was at the last regular season game of the year for the Red Sox when Luis Tiant defeated the Blue Jays with a three hitter while the Indians defeated the Yankees in Cleveland. For the profound total of $42.00 I was able to run downstairs to get 5 tickets to the playoff game the next day - the Bucky Dent game. The idiotic baserunning of Rick Burleson late in that game infuriates me to this day; Pinella never saw the ball Remy hit and Burleson stopped at second anyway. We were in right field - right in line with the play - there was no way Pinella was ever going to catch it.

I was also able to go to Yastrezmski's induction to the Hall of Fame. The people of Cooperstown welcomed us and I get chills remembering the introduction of Ted Williams that day. I did not know that all the living members of the Hall are invited to each induction and that those who attend get introduced. We had arrived at the very last minute and were cut off in the crowd from the front of the podium. Nonetheless, when the introduction began, "From San Diego, California ..." I got this rush of adrenaline - I was within in 100 yards of the Greatest Hitter who ever lived. Later, my brother and I went to the Mother's day game when Ted Williams finally tipped his hat to the crowd in Boston.

Larry Bird Night was a last minute invitation for an astounding event. The AFC champtionship game against the Jaguars saw me coming out of a 24 hour flu that had cleaned my clock. James Taylor was just finishing the National Anthem when the Air Force flyover happened, seemingly 8 feet over our heads. Thrilling moment. A Celtics game against the Pistons that I get reminded of when I walk by the kiosk in the mall with the panoramic sports photos. A bird got into the Garden that day and the Celtics made this amazing comeback. There were all sorts of visitors in the crowd, Shaquille O'Neal was there right before he was drafted. In the panorama you can see my brother and I sitting over the runway that was used to take the Bruins to their locker room way back when. We are blurry but we were there.

Bo Jackson hitting a homerun off the despicable Wes Gardner at Fenway Park on Patriots Day. The wind was so fierce that no other ball made it past second base. I was viciously wind burned sitting behind home plate but he crushed it to deep right center. Bledsoe throwing 70 passes against the Vikings in that unlikely comeback. Kevin Turner in the corner of the endzone for the winning touchdown. The longer I sit here the more that come back to me.

The Celtics Bulls series had me thinking of these opportunities. All of them bring back a spirit of celebration after all this time - even those that at the time had worn me out. I was a long time getting over the Bucky Dent game but now I am glad to have the story, glad to have had the chance to be a part of something you might see on ESPN classic, glad to have those particular ticket stubs.

Cleaning up

Gardens and grime this week here on the Point.

Planting has begun on a small perenial garden that will wrap around two sides of the utility wing. Hosta, Seedum, Daisies, Hydrangea, and some mystery plants were put in place on Friday and Saturday past. A vegetable garden will be in place by this upcoming weekend in the bed outside the kitchen. A pathway of pavers was put in place across the backyard after a generous donation from my sister Lee. I like the idea that we are giving back here and making a mark.

We have also been cleaning up. A vacumn made the trip with me to the top of the tower and I am happy to announce the whole of the tower has been vacced and swept. I may have missed a few of the cob webs but it was a good faith effort. This morning the walkway got the same treatment.

This might sound crazy but I am having a blast with these chores. The Cottage has seemed like home nearly from the first but the Tower needed some attention before I could feel like I was truly its caretaker. You have to give a place some of your attention and time before you truly connect to it. There are still some windows to wash and maybe I will slosh around with some Murphy's Oil but I can look out at the Tower and know that I have gone on a first date now. We will be going steady for a while but I needed to buy the flowers and slick back my hair.

Colors

There are colors here. All sorts of colors.

This morning the line on the horizon reminded me of the hot coils of an old toaster. Last week the sun came out of the water like a giant honey dip donut, dripping melted sugar into the flattest, calmest blue - the blue of the perfect blue eye - I could ever remember.

The grays are grayer, the greens of a greater range of green than my imagination would have guessed. I was sitting at the table last weekend and on the harbor side there was a shimmer on the water like the reflection of a billion razor blades, while on the ocean side there were long breaking, turquoise and somehow red, waves wacking up against the shore and the big jetty.

There is a tint on the rocks at about 5:15 each night that makes you recall scenes from movies when the alien ship arrives and the light show is other worldly. At night there is the orange from the lights across the harbor - the clearer white light of the church steeple above a line of what could be candy Dots from the parking lots. There is black rain here - hitting the sand to darken and spill out into the cove so that the harbor become a piece of slate - the gulls look like lines of chalk against it.

The lighthouse itself is several colors of white as the light moves around it - think of a table cloth that has survived the childs' table at a holiday - the purest white to the murkiest white - it all depends on the clouds and the sun and the time of day.

I have barely scratched the surface of what we see each day and then there are all the sounds and smells to describe. Come on back soon for the follow up.

Mom

Since the last post from here on the Point my mom passed away.

She had struggled to get back to herself after a heart surgery last May and died during a hospital stay where the doctors were trying to come up with a reason for her prolonged weakness. We had a service for her yesterday and I hope that all those who were able to come left that service with a feel for her humor and how her example helped the family deal with her loss.

Friends and family joined us back in the Keeper's Cottage and what might be labeled an Old Fashioned Irish wake began. One tale led to another and another. There was a stretch where I thought I was the body, as my friends, Art, Dave, John and Mike, lit into my eccentricities and foibles. It was great!! This morning I made a note on the calendar we are using to track the weather and oil purchases and other miscellaneous events - April 4 - Funeral and Party - Go Figure.

My mom did get to visit here twice before her passing. She came the first time and managed to get upstairs with the help of my aunt Mona and her husband Richard. They knew she wanted to see the view. I couldn't believe she was able to do it, though I was not surprised she tried. We had very little furniture in place at that point but she got a feel for it and she got her peek at the view.

The second time she came she had a great deal less strength. She came with my Aunt Barbara and we had furniture in so they could settle in for a bit. We got talking about what might grow in the garden I have planned and how the painters had transformed the rooms from what she remembered years ago. Not a long visit but it will have to do.

She will of course be here in a million other ways as we go along. She was a regular on the beach out front for the past 10 years or so and no doubt I will hear her voice in my head when I need to be reminded of the virtues of patience with a pushy tourist. She was here yesterday in all the stories and in the reminders of her spirit and her fun loving manner. It was a party she would have loved.

Getting the Ink

I love the ink.  

Emily Sweeney of the Boston Globe had an article out on March 19th in the Globe South section of the paper about us moving in here and about the history of the Light.  She included a tremendous video of a quick tour I gave.  I was somewhat concerned about that until I saw it.  She managed to make this old guy look okay.  And it is not every day that I get to see the white spot on the back of my head that Haley calls the whale.

The feedback from the article has been fantastic.  My colleagues and my students have a glimpse into what we are into over here.  This home has so many stories; this neighborhood has even more. We are going to keep on telling them in every forum we can find.

Thank you Ms. Sweeney from the New Lightkeeper.

Day One and after

Monday February 16.

The morning was as gray as Bill Belichek's hoodie at 6:15 as I stood at the kitchen sink muttering that waking up in this cottage was nothing short of a miracle. The gray was then broken up by spokes of coral colored light, lightning flashes of sun breaking through the bar of clouds. Leaning forward was all I could do; I was pulled in by the sparkle on the water, by the suddeness of the whole thing.

Painters, electricians, cable set up, phone set up, marked the rest of the day (and the rest of the week.) Furniture was placed and boxes unpacked. Lots of questions emerged and there were even some answers discovered. The transformation over the week was fantastic to see. (Those pictures will be shared soon)

At the end of the day I needed to take down the flag in the Lighthouse Park lot. As I was unwinding the line and bringing the colors down, a young man in battle fatigues got out of his car and stood at attention, then saluted the flag. Noticing this over my shoulder I grew a coconut in my throat. I never anticipated that response in this new role. Finishing the job I thanked the young man who told me no thanks were neccessary. Day one was quite a day to start and quite a day to finish.

Remembering A Modern Shipwreck

Robinson Crusoe. The Swiss Family Robinson. Moby Dick. The Pilot Ship Columbia. The Etrusco. Not Fade Away. I bet your wondering what these have to do with each other.

50 years ago a plane crashed in an Iowa cornfield killing three popular musicians of the time. Captured in Don McLean's American Pie as "the day the music died" it remains a cultural milestone.

By the late fifties plane crashes had replaced shipwrecks as the news of the day but I can't help but thinking of the impact those long ago shipwrecks must have had in their time. Smaller, tighter, knit communities would be expecting the return of their crews from the sea only to wait at the wharves and piers without the least word. Children would grow up on the stories of the survivors and what luck carried them free and clear and home. Songs would be written and shared as a way of dealing with the loss. Artists would render the struggle of the ships and their masters. When the traffic on the water was as great in scope as it was, thoughts of shipwreck must have been a regular part of daily life.

That shipwrecks are part of our cultural inheritance is seen in those titles with which I began this list. The local impact is seen in the next two items in the list, local shipwrecks that have spurred countless debates and questions. My day began with Buddy Holly's Not Fade Away on the radio.

A modern shipwreck.