Ok, now that I'm a prisoner in my office (the wife is on the phone with some student parental unit who called about 45 minutes ago and continues to monopolize her), I figure now's a good a time as any to recap the ol' birthday weekend.
Over the past few years, with my brother Matt moving out into his own apartment, and with me being out in the big bad real world for years now, birthday and familial celebrations have somehow extended themselves into days and days and weeks and (occasionally) months of orgiastic celebration. Ok, so that's a bit of an exaggeration, but just to give you some idea, on Sunday we're going to a PawSox game in Rhode Island to finish off the celebration of a) my mother's birthday, b) Mother's Day, c) my birthday, and d) Father's Day, which it actually happens to be that day. I actually can't remember which of a) or b) apply to our excursion; that's how long it's been pending. I think we're also celebrating Columbus Day...no, not last year's, but the original Columbus Day back in 1492, with the landing and the discovery and the sailing of the ocean blue and all that.
So my celebration this year actually began a few days early, since by sheer coincidence, the movie Word Wars was showing at the Coolidge Corner Theatre, a very chic and retro movie house that tends to show smaller-run stuff, also known by its technical term, "artsy-fartsy". The movie is loosely based on Word Freak, the most excellent book about the Scrabble culture and one outsider's experience at getting sucked in. Word Wars focuses more on the four main characters of Word Freak and does so quite well. I sat there having the same reaction as I did while reading the book - that it's weird reading/watching something where you already know all the characters. I managed to spot my brother within the first few minutes of the movie, and then Viv and I popped up in the background of a few shots later on. Interesting to see these people's homes, and a little frightening to find out that Joe Edley studies flashcards on his way to work. In a car. While driving said car. I would also be remiss if I didn't mention the cool restaurant we hit beforehand, The Fireplace. I had made one request of my birthday dinner, and that be that it include duck. Since the place was mostly grilled food, the duck came out a bit smokier than I would have liked, but still quite tasty.
Saturday morning I got to sleep in (the luxury!) and then hit breakfast at our local diner. After walking back, I got inspired to do something outdoorsy, so I got out the pair of hedge clippers we'd bought...hmm...last summer...and attacked the bittersweet that was threatening to engulf the rhododendron out front. It was even snaking its tendrils up onto the power lines and starting to choke off a nearby tree and hedge. I spent a good 90 minutes climbing all over that rhododendron (including a few trips inside the thing - I had visions of jumping out of it and scaring the crap out of the joggers that passed by, but we live in a small town and word gets around when you start jumping from bushes). Ended up clipping some stuff thicker than my thumb at the root, and cut off what I couldn't reach. The power lines are now safe and the rhododendron/tree/hedge look much happier. Still a little bit to do at the end of the hedge, but perhaps another day. I've got the battle scars to prove it.
Next we headed off to get me some more battle scars - a trip to Golf Country for some mini-golfing followed by a large bucket of balls at the driving range (the actual source of the battle scars...not the putt-putt). Mini-golf was fun except for the inept and obnoxious foursome in front of us who constantly whacked the ball out of bounds and went trolling for extra balls in every water hazard they came across. I ended up winning, though the wife may have let me win. Then she left me with the bucket while she went for ice cream, and I gave myself a nice blister on my left hand while going through it (the bucket, not the ice cream). Gotta wear my gloves the next time... That was it for the rest of the day, other than watching the Sox (which isn't anything out of the ordinary).
Sunday breakfast was donuts (mmm...Entenmann's rich frosted donuts...) after another sluggishly late-rising morning, followed by some gift-giving. Very golf-themed - the wifely one gave me a hand-written certificate for a new set of irons (the ones I have now are so old, they have Al Geiberger's name on them. Geiberger is a great golfer and all (and the original Mr. 59, having shot an unbelievable 59 over 18 holes on one glorious round in 1977) but he's 66 and I'm, well, not. I got the clubs ten years ago for $75 at Play It Again Sports...let's just say it's time for a new set. And to accompany that new set of irons, a lesson with the PGA pro at the local course. I guess it's time to actually get out on the links, huh?
The rest of the morning was spent lounging about, reading the Sunday paper, and generally being useless as I could get away with, being royalty-for-a-day, until we trucked up to Exeter (aka the other evil empire) to meet my parents for lunch. The 'rentals were on their way back from a trip through the midwest, where they visited four ballparks - Wrigley and US Cellular in Chicago, the Metrodome (or as Jerry Remy affectionately refers to it, the "Humpty Dump") in Minneapolis and Miller Field in Milwaukee. Probably ~1000 miles of driving, but in honor of giving birth to someone as OLD as me, they thought they'd swing by and see me on the day of my birth. We ate and chatted up a storm at the Loaf & Ladle (good food) before going to our respective homes, and then it was off to a birthday baseball game at Fenway. Against the Dodgers, for their first visit there. With Pedro pitching. Two words: Boo. Yah. We'd even managed to score better than usual tickets (looking straight up the first base line) thanks to the father of one of the girls in our dorm - he had four tickets drop into his lap on Friday and his daughter called us on our way up to Exeter to see if we'd be interested. Hell, yes. Pedro threw a masterpiece and handcuffed the Dodgers, and the Sox whacked around former Bostonian Hideo Nomo to win 4-1, a far cry from the 15-4 drubbing of the night before. Got to see Nomah in his third game back (0-3 but he stole a base and scored a run) and Pokey Reese did his best Ozzie Smith impression in the field, turning in a few sparkling plays and even getting the job done with the bat.
Still waiting on some presents, to be presented presently (ok, to be presented on Sunday, but that doesn't sound as good). Then the 2004 berfday celebration will officially be over.
Leave a comment